i dream in the shape of your mouth (1/2)
I Dream in the Shape of Your Mouth
namjoon/seokjin
17,000 words; pg-13
no applicable warnings
hello guys! I'M BACK! and (hopefully) better than ever. idy why fandom still uses livejournal when ao3 is god's gift to any fandom ever, but here is the lj mirror. (this fic was originally posted to ao3, and i've provided a mirror link) but yes, i hope you all enjoy! the world needs more namjin.
AO3 MIRROR
Fuck Hoseok. Fuck this Econ test tomorrow, and fuck the fact that Hoseok decided to fucking ditch him so he could drive down to his hometown this weekend and visit his damn girlfriend.
There might just be a place in hell for him, a place called "I'm-not-an-econ-major-so-I'm-not-going-to-study-the-day-before-this-huge-exam".
More than that, he hates the fact that Hoseok probably doesn't even have to study. Seokjin wants to be born with the ability to fall asleep in class and still get A's on all his tests like Hoseok.
Someone taps his shoulder. "Excuse me?"
Seokjin looks up from his textbook, something about oligopolies and demand supplies, to see a guy with bright platinum blond hair with the sides shaved, staring down at him. He's got these giant bright blue headphones that could probably double as a blue strobelight. What the hell.
"Sorry," he says, and points to the seat to his right, "do you mind if I sit here? All the other tables are taken."
He knows its a busy day, midterm week and all, but wow, now that he actually looks up from his books, every single table at the library has some student or three sitting at them. "Yeah," he says, scooting his chair over a bit. "Of course."
Blondie With Shaved Sides gives him a grateful smile and he slides into the seat. "Thanks," he says, and that's that. He pulls his headphones over his ears and dumps a giant linguistics textbook onto the desk.
Midterms week can go get the flu or something. Day three of being cooped up in the library and Seokjin just wants all his midterm to end. Two more, he tells himself. Just two more, and he's free. These two place over the course of one and a half weeks, but that also means that Seokjin doesn't have to pull an allnighter two days in a row, so score there.
Apparently everyone else is on the same schedule as him, because the library hasn't looked like a single student has left it. If anything, it seems more crowded than before, or maybe Seokjin's just gotten too familiar with this vandalized wooden table he's been sitting at. He picks at the heart filled 'KM + JS' scratched on the table, just to make it a little different.
"Hey," someone says, followed by a tap to his shoulder. "Can I sit here?"
He looks up, and oh, there he is again, Blondie With Shaved Sides, blue headphones switched out this time for simple white earbuds. He looks a little more normal, even with his crazy hair.
"Oh," Blondie says. "It's you. Hi."
"Hey," Seokjin mumbles, thumbing over his International Economy textbook. "And yeah, sure, go ahead."
He doesn't scoot over this time, figures Blondie has plenty of space, and goes back to his books. Blondie does the same.
Third time's the charm, Seokjin supposes.
Or maybe it's just become routine now. A three day long routine. Blondie asks to sit next to him again, except this time he just greets him with a "Hey! Do you mind, again?" and Seokjin shakes his head, and moves his stuff so there's space for Blondie. Except this time there's talk.
"You're definitely a Business major, aren't you?" Blondie asks with a raised eyebrow.
Seokjin looks up from his Political Econ book. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Economics. Exam Thursday. You?"
"Rough, man. Linguistics, with a focus in English and Japanese."
"Cool," Seokjin says, and lets the silence fill in between them like cement.
Blondie doesn't seem fazed. He reaches out his hand, actually. "I should probably introduce myself. I'm Kim Namjoon, the guy who's been stealing all your study space."
"Kim Seokjin. I don't mind as much as you think."
"Awesome," Namjoon says. "I'll leave you to your things, then."
Seokjin's grateful for that much. If there's anything Seokjin's bad at, it's introductions. He's only ever made friends by being introduced to people by other people, and then only joins in conversations after he's watched them for a bit. The silence between them is comfortable though, and Seokjin uncaps his highlighter again to get back to business.
"Are you always in the library?" Namjoon asks. This time, he just flops onto the seat across from Seokjin without asking and pulls out his laptop.
Seokjin thinks about it. "Not always," he mumbles, and figures that's probably only half a lie. "But usually. I like quiet, and I can't do anything productive in my room."
Mainly because his room always smells like weed, thanks to his roommate Yoongi, who is not that bad of a person, but just really sucks at getting the smell of late night parties out of his clothes.
It doesn't help that all of his friends are underclassmen, minus like, Hyosang, who sends more time with his girlfriend, Sunyoung, in one day combined than with Seokjin the whole week. Seokjin's already awkward enough by himself as it is, he doesn't need to also third wheel.
"Makes sense," Namjoon says, and then pauses. "How'd your exam go, by the way?"
"Huh?"
"Exam," he repeats. "You said you had an Econ exam on Thursday."
"Oh!" Seokjin wonders how the hell he even remembered that. He's pretty sure Namjoon has more important things to remember than his exam schedule, like which bright colored headphones he's gonna wear today. Speaking off, he can see the skinny lime green headphones peeking out of his backpack. "It... went okay, I guess. Can never be too sure; gotta wait for my grade."
"The worst part," Namjoon says, sighing. "Hang in there, I'm sure you did great. I've never seen anyone as concentrated in their work as you."
Well, Seokjin thinks, blinking, that was unexpected. "Thanks?" he asks, and laughs when Namjoon scratches the back of his head nervously. "What about you?" he asks, just because this poor kid has been asking him questions the whole time. "Are you here to just do homework?"
"Oh, I wish," Namjoon sighs, but his eyes brighten, like he's been waiting for Seokjin to ask him something about himself this whole time. "I've got an English exam on Wednesday. English grammar is so confusing. But I actually usually do homework here, I'm just usually on the third floor."
"I wish you luck," Seokjin replies, "I'm usually right here, really. This table might just have an invisible 'Reserved for Kim Seokjin' nameplate on it."
Namjoon grins at him. "I wish I had that. I have to fight for my spot every day." He presses something on his laptop and hums. "I guess maybe that's why I end up here each time."
Seokjin smiles pleasantly at him, trying to think of a decent reply, but his mind fizzles out and maybe he even blushes. Crap, no. He can't think of that, not when he's got a Research Ethics paper due tomorrow.
"Okay, I'm going to tune you out now to work," Namjoon says, and Seokjin nearly collapses onto the floor in relief.
"Cool," he mumbles, and fishes his iPod out of his bag.
Monday.
Seokjin's got one more exam tomorrow at 8AM, and he's got at least five cups of coffee spiraling through his veins right now and holy crap there are four e's in this word, that's so weird. Four e's.
Thank god he's got a laptop open because he doesn't think he could hold a pencil and write legibly because his hands are shaking so much. Coffee dehydrates you, right? He wonders if you can get coffee hangovers. Coffee hangovers, that sounds awful.
Another thank God that the library is practically empty. Most of the midterms were last week and the week before, so the only people inside right now are late stragglers like Seokjin, or people who usually spend their time in the library, which is also like Seokjin.
"You're still here?"
He doesn't even need to look up to know who it is now. He looks anyway, because Namjoon's face doesn't have any words on them that have to deal with the statistics of the economic growth of Seoul after World War II. "Yup," he says, "unfortunately. One more exam tomorrow, and oh god, I'm going to fail? Also hi."
Namjoon peers closely at him, and Seokjin would feel self conscious if he could concentrate on one spot, but he can't hahahah, wow look at that, Namjoon's got nice looking eyes actually, they're more cute than anything. It doesn't match his hairstyle, or his headphones. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Seokjin says, way too quickly. "Why?"
Namjoon's still staring at him weirdly. "You're shaking. Are you okay? Are you on drugs or someth-"
His voice cuts off and when Seokjin follows his gaze, it ends up landing on the coffee cup.
"You... how many cups of coffee have you drank?"
"Um," Seokjin pauses, and for a second it almost seems like the world has paused too, except Namjoon takes a step back and the answer swings into his head. "Five!" he says, proud of himself for remembering.
"Stay here," Namjoon says, and then he's gone, and Seokjin's staring at the white pillar behind him and what just happened?
Namjoon's left his bag here, so he probably hasn't run away forever, unless he's planning to donate his laptop to Seokjin, which he wouldn't mind all that much, but doubts that's actually what happened.
"Here," he hears Namjoon's voice ring, followed by an ice cold sensation pressed against his cheek that makes him jolt in his chair.
"What the hell--" But then Namjoon places the water bottle on his desk, condensation creeping onto the wood, and takes his place next to Seokjin.
"You're going to crash," Namjoon says. "Why'd you drink so much coffee?"
"Exam tomorrow," Seokjin says. "At 8AM. I know nothing at all -- I spent so much time studying for the other two exams that now I'm fucked for this one tomorrow and oh god, I'm going to fail--"
Oddly enough, Namjoon doesn't stop him. Seokjin can feel the gazes of other students on him for being so loud, but Namjoon still lets him prattle on.
"Oh god," he finally finishes. He catches the eye of a girl sitting at the next next to them and she gives him a sympathetic glance before turning back to her work. Behind her, Namjoon is looking at him, and Seokjin looks back, expectant, even though he doesn't know what he's expectant of.
"You good now?" Namjoon asks, and Seokjin nods stupidly. "Good. Now drink water and take a nap. I have a paper to write so I'll be here for a while."
His fingertips freeze where they touch the bottle, and the feeling of ice water stuns his body for a moment, caught between shaking from caffeine and shaking from cold. He gets stuck in the middle, frigid in his seat, and when he makes eye contact with Namjoon again, he bursts into laughter.
"What?" Seokjin asks.
Namjoon shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. "Just -- your face was funny."
Seokjin stares at him, unsure or whether that's an insult or not, but forgoes it in favor for water.
"Really," he hears Namjoon say in the background. "Just, relax. You'll do better this way, trust me. I'll wake you up in twenty minutes."
Seokjin groans, fishing around for his phone. It's 7:30, which is just enough time to put on a shirt and run to his exam. Somewhere under his sheets, his phone is blaring one of A-Pink’s newest songs, and it takes all of his concentration to find it. When he does, it comes along with a text message from an unknown number. Good luck on your exam! You can do it! :-)
Seokjin should probably worry about who that is, but he's got an exam in twenty minutes and he still hasn't brushed his teeth yet, or put on a shirt. At least, thanks to all the coffee he drank the day before, he crashed by the time he went to sleep, and he's not as groggy waking up as he usually is, so that's a score, maybe. Either way, he'll take all the luck he can get.
"I'm gonna cry," Hoseok says when he walks out the classroom. "What the hell was that question about the difference between social-market economy and corporate capitalism?”
“I didn’t get that question,” Seokjin mumbles, pulling out his phone, and Hoseok groans even louder.
"How do you think you did?" Hoseok asks as Seokjin stares at his screen.
“I don't know what day it is," he replies, and Hoseok pats him on the back sympathetically.
"I feel that," he says. "Where are you heading after this? I wanna eat and play Mario Kart for the rest of the day. Wanna join?"
Seokjin thinks it over. Technically, he's already done his homework, and he doesn't have any more exams to study for, so he doesn't have to go to the library, but at the same time he kind of really wants to. Something to do with obnoxious bleached hair and wide, gummy smile. Maybe. "Nah, I gotta look over some things I forgot for another class. I'll see you later?"
Hoseok grins at him with a glint in his eye, and Seokjin gulps. "Yeah," he says. "Alright. See you then!"
"Didn't you just have an exam?" Namjoon asks, eyebrow raised as he pulls out his bright orange earbuds. How many earphones does he even have?
"Y...eah..." Seojkin mumbles, looking around for an excuse. Maybe he should have thought this through before. "I wanted to see how I did on the exam?"
Namjoon snorts and closes his textbook. "That's just gonna screw with your mind. Here, I don't actually have to do this now, so do you wanna do something?"
"Do something?" Seokjin asks, and watches the edges of Namjoon's lips curl up.
That's how Seokjin ends up back in Hoseok's apartment, rubbing his shoes together and staring at the ground.
"Seokjin hyung!" Hoseok greets, bright smile and all, "You decided to come after all. And you know Namjoonie?"
"You know Namjoon?" Seokjin asks, even though it makes more sense that they know each other. They're both loud and vibrant people, unlike Seokjin who seems to dullen everyday and fade into the background.
"We went to high school together," Hoseok explains. Seokjin tries his best not to feel like an outsider, especially when they high five each other and hug. Namjoon slaps him on the back until Hoseok is hacking, and Seokjin rolls his eyes. Hoseok laughs. "Aw, don't do that hyung. You know you love our manliness."
"You both smell like douche," Seokjin retorts.
Namjoon raises his hands in mock offense. "Wow, okay. I was gonna go easy on you in Mario Kart, but now I can't."
Hoseok wins. He wins because he's a dirty cheater, but he's too lame to admit that.
"You're awful," Seokjin accuses. "Cheater."
Hoseok doesn't deny it. "You just need to concentrate more on the game," he says, grinning.
"I want a rematch," Namjoon says, and Hoseok throws a chip at him.
"Wanna lose again?"
"I'll win even with your cheating. I'll make up for me and Seokjin hyung.”
That's kind of sweet, Seokjin thinks. In a weird, not really heroic but kind of heroic way. He needs to stop thinking. What time is it?
"Oh Jesus, it's nine. I may have accidentally skipped a class."
"Oh, so have we," Namjoon says. "Except not so accidentally."
"Stop negatively influencing me. This isn't good for my academic career."
"Hyung," Namjoon replies slowly, "you're a junior. You don't have much of an academic career lef-"
Seokjin puts a finger to his lips and shushes him loudly. "I don't know what you're talking about." He also tries not to think about how soft Namjoon's lips feel against his finger. God that's so creepy. Seokjin, be less creepy.
"Let him wallow in his old age later," Hoseok says. "Don't even mention the j-o-b word to him."
Seokjin glares at him. "Wow, look at the time. I suddenly have a thing to do back at my dorm that always smells like weed and alcohol. Guess I'll see you guys later."
"Yoongi hyung isn't that bad."
Seokjin glares at him again. Yoongi is a great roommate, which is why they've been living together for the past two years, but his room still always smells like weed and alcohol. He never fails to tell Yoongi this every day, and Yoongi never fails to not give a shit. Thank the lord for fruity body sprays, honestly. "But really," Seokjin says. "I have an 8AM class tomorrow, so I really should get back. I have homework for it and everything."
"Oh," Namjoon and Hoseok both say. Namjoon continues speaking. "In that case, should I bounce too? Hoseok's no fun by himself."
Hoseok grins and kicks him in the shin. "I'm plenty of fun by myself, just ask my dick."
"Dude," Seokjin groans. "Dude. This is why you're single."
"Yeah, that's our cue to leave," Namjoon says quickly. "I'll walk with you and talk about all of Hoseok's dirty secrets."
"I don't have secrets," Hoseok replies as Namjoon slides his flip flops on. Seokjin rolls his eyes, because Namjoon would be that douchebag that wears socks and sandals in March. Namjoon opens the door as Hoseok continues, "But whatever you can say, I can assure you that it will be dirty."
"Leave, leave, leave," Seokjin hisses, backpack already slung across his back. "See you later Hobi."
He hears what is probably a goodbye, but in actuality sounds the a satanic ritual. Makes sense.
Right, so now it's just Namjoon and Seokjin. Outside the library. It's cool, everything's cool. Seokjin is a cool person, he's chill. Kind of.
"So where do you live?" Namjoon asks, looking ahead of them both as they walk away from Hoseok's dorm. He wonders how his roommate, Jimin, deals with him. Then he remembers exactly who Jimin is and pretends he never asked himself such a thing.
"Off campus," Seokjin sighs. "Well, it's on campus, but it's off campus housing. It's a little down the road from the library. What about you?"
"I live right next to the library!" Namjoon says cheerfully. Seokjin tries not to think about how there are stars in Namjoon's eyes, that reflect and burst in Seokjin's heart, and wow, fuck. Fuck no. Seokjin's not that in deep, not yet. "Great, we can walk back together."
Seokjin's not much of a talker, so it's a good thing that Namjoon is, because he keeps the conversation going without Seokjin needing to worry about keeping up with exaggerated hand gestures and old high school stories of how Namjoon and Hoseok met, or that one time where Hoseok was trying to tell his crush a joke and laughed so hard at his own pun that orange juice came out of his nose. Seokjin interjects when he feels his comment is worth saying, says how in his freshman year, his friend's roommate may have been a murderer, because when they first met his greeting words were, "These walls are really soundproof. You could kill a man in here and no one would hear him scream." Namjoon gets a kick out of that one.
"There was one time where this guy I used to like gave me his number and I found out way too late that my friends fucked with my keyboard shortcuts, so 'hey' turned into 'come touch my dick'. He doesn't talk to me anymore."
Seokjin feels really bad for laughing, but before he knows it, he's leaning against a streetlamp and trying to relearn how to breathe all over again. "Come touch my dick," he wheezes. "You have some great friends."
"I do," Namjoon says, sounding much more proud than Seokjin expected. "I have you and Hoseok, my friends are awesome."
Friends. Seokjin hadn't actually considered them friends before. They were some sort of weird friend-acquaintance library buddy thing. "I don't even have your phone number, friend."
Namjoon stops in his tracks, eyebrow raised. "Yes you do?"
Seokjin frowns. "I don't?"
Namjoon laughs and holds his hand out, and Seokjin places it into his hand. "Who do you think texted you good luck on your exam? I'll type in my name, since you didn't get it."
It's when Namjoon's punched half his name that it hits Seokjin. "Wait, Namjoon, are you gay?"
"Yeah." Namjoon, unfazed, doesn't look up from his phone, "there's an LGBT pin on my backpack. You never noticed?"
Seokjin leans over and finds out that there is, indeed, a giant rainbow colored pin on his backpack, among all of the other bright trinkets and pins. "I didn't," he says. "I just... You're the first other gay guy I've met on campus?"
Namjoon has his eyebrows scrunched together when he hands Seokjin's phone back. "We have a gay frat, y'know? I was gonna rush for them when I was a freshman, but decided against it last minute since I hadn't come out at the time."
"Wow," Seokjin breathes. Namjoon hands his phone back to him, and they continue to walk. "So much has changed since I first came here. They just created a Gay-Straight Alliance club in my high school last year. My friend asked me to come, but I'm not the most attention seeking person, so I didn't go."
"I don't think that has anything to do with being attention seeking," Namjoon points out, but Seokjin just shrugs. They both know what he means. "But, you know, if you ever need like... support or something, you got me. That's someone at least. It sucks being alone."
Seokjin stares at the ground as he walks, one foot in front of the other. "Thanks," he mumbles, not quite sure if Namjoon's heard it until he hears a little scoff and then a finger digs into his back. Seokjin yelps, and Namjoon starts to laugh in earnest.
"What are you thanking me for? I’m just doing what any good friend should do, you know?"
"Yeah," Seokjin says. "Yeah."
They arrive in front of Seokjin's apartment, and Namjoon gives him a little wave. "I'll see you later then? Are you gonna be at our library date tomorrow?"
Seokjin laughs. "Of course. Two o'clock, don't be late."
"I won't. Good night!"
"Good night."
Seokjin doesn't even mind when Yoongi's passed out on the beanbag chair, bottle of vodka sitting dangerously close to the edge of the little coffee table they have. He caps the bottle and puts it in the fridge, staring down at his roommate and wondering what the hell he should do with him. It's a Tuesday night, so he knows Yoongi isn't being too irresponsible since he doesn't have class until five tomorrow, but still. He should probably get this lump off of the couch.
"How was Hoseok's place?" Yoongi groans, and Seokjin nearly drops the shot glass.
"You're awake?"
Yoongi grins up at him, bringing the pillow to his chest. "I only had two shots, Seokjin. Who do I look like to you?"
"Borderline alcoholic," Seokjin grumbles under his breath. "It's a Tuesday, and you're drinking alone."
"I couldn't sleep."
"That's the worst reason to drink alcohol for," Seokjin scolds, and fishes a water bottle from the fridge. "Now drink this and go to bed. This is as much as I'm cleaning up for you."
"Yes, wife," Yoongi groans. "And I'm sure there's worse you can drink for. You still haven't answered about Hoseok's place."
Seokjin tosses the bottle to him and sits on his bed. "It was fun. We played video games, nothing big. Namjoon was there, too. I don't think you know Namjoon."
"Nah, I know him," Yoongi says, uncapping the bottle. "I've heard of him, at least. Chill guy. Hell of a partier, but he's chill. Hyosang knows him."
"Hyosang?" Seokjin blinks down at Yoongi, who ignores him in favor of chugging the water bottle. "Hyosang's known him this whole time and hasn't told me?"
"Is he supposed to?" Yoongi asks.
Seokjin scoffs. "It's Hyosang, obviously. Especially when it's someone like Namjoon."
Yoongi rolls his eyes and drains the rest of the bottle. "You mean especially if it's someone you like. Seokjin, you're so readable. Do you even know if he's into guys?"
"Why do you always crush my dreams? And yes, he told me he's gay today."
"Oh," Yoongi breathes, then gets off the couch, shooting the water bottle into the trash can next to Seokjin. "In that case, proceed. He probably likes you back."
"What makes you say that?"
Yoongi shrugs. "Intuition. Also I'm used to you hiding your sexuality from most of the world."
Seokjin groans. He hates this talk. He doesn't want to have this talk at all. Best to stop it in it's tracks before it grows. "Yoongi, you know why I don't--"
"I know," Yoongi sighs. "Parents, jobs, life, all that crazy stuff. You have your reasons, that's cool. I'm just saying, I'd look into it."
"He has an LGBT pin on his backpack," Seokjin grumbles.
"Isn't he an English workshop mentor? I thought they have to have those pins," Yoongi points out. "To show that they're allies and all, ‘all students are welcome’, even if they’re not. It's a really cheap tactic, it's why I don't do tutoring anymore."
"Oh," Seokjin mumbles. "So what are you trying to say?"
Yoongi shrugs. "I'm not trying to say anything. But I'm glad you came out to him. He's a good dude, I've heard. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do homework and pass out again."
Seokjin watches as Yoongi drags himself up off the beanbag, grabs his books, and stumbles out the door into the lounge. The door slams shortly after and Seokjin sighs, rubbing his temples absentmindedly. "I expect the room to be clean by tomorrow!" Seokjin yells, just because he can.
2PM, second floor of the library, Seokjin's got a different table in the back corner, for a second, he almost wonders if Namjoon will find him this time, since he usually sits on the opposite side of the room, but a tired looking bleached hair boy with pink earbuds trudges in ten minutes later and plops down next to Seokjin. "Why are you so tired?" he asks.
Namjoon mumbles something into the wood, and Seokjin pretends he understands.
"Okay," he replies, "so why are you here?"
"Still have work," Namjoon sighs. "Got more work. I don't have much exams, but all these papers."
Seokjin considers patting him on the back, but decides against it. "How many left?"
"Three. Well, two. I'm just about to finish this one." Namjoon slowly, and very begrudgingly, gets out his laptop and starts it up, blinking at the screen like it personally offends him. Seokjin watches with uninhibited curiosity as Namjoon yawns, taps his password, then groans when it's wrong and face plants onto the table. "Good night," he says.
"O...okay," Seokjin mumbles. "Good night, I guess." He turns back to his Econ textbook.
Two hours later, the body next to him stirs, and Seokjin, again, watches Namjoon blink the sleep out of his eyes and lean back in his chair, turning his head to face Seokjin. "What time is it?" he groans.
"Four thirty," Seokjin answers robotically.
“F-Four thirty?” Namjoon jumps up in his seat, trying to frantically rub the sleep out of his eyes. “You should’ve woken me up earlier, hyung.”
Seokjin scoffs. “Your hyung aegyo isn’t going to work on me. And I let you rest. Stay here, and I’ll be back, okay?”
Namjoon mumbles something under his breath as Seokjin stands up. Truthfully, a sleeping Namjoon was a rather nice Namjoon to have next to him. Well, an awake Namjoon isn't too bad either. They're both nice, Seokjin thinks as he walks to the vending machine downstairs and gets two coffees. Namjoon in general is really nice, which is something Seokjin probably would have never guessed from looking at his bleached hair and weirdly colored earbuds (how many does he have?).
They don't seem like the type of people who would get along, but they kind of go together, like milk and coffee! Seokjin laughs as he pours the creamer into Namjoon's cup. He remembers Namjoon bringing in cups of white chocolate mochas and caramel brulee lattes during exam week. A freshman standing next to him takes a step away from Seokjin and grabs her cup as quickly as she can and runs.
He guesses that's what happen you just click with someone. Clicking over things like exams and papers and that same wood table in the back of the group study lounge on the second floor. That doesn't make sense, does it?
Seokjin places the coffee cup next to a dozing Namjoon, fingers sliding over the keyboard sloppily. "Hurry up and finish your essay. You have two more to write."
"Hyung, why?"
Seokjin smiles and pets Namjoon on the head, who gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, as he lets out all his complaints about his professors and his classes and No one really talks like this in America, and Seokjin listens carefully, pulling out his own highlighters to start studying.
They spend the day working alongside each other quietly except for the occasional nudge of encouragement, and when Seokjin finally leaves for his evening class, he thinks he could get used to this. Is used to this. Doesn't want to ever end.
They could be like Bonnie and Clyde. Well, sort of. Minus all the conning and theft. And almost everything else. Seokjin needs to get a new definition of romance.
It's just that he really likes Namjoon and that's kind of scary.
The problem with Seokjin is that he's too damn shy. He'll be the most awkward and quiet person at a group gathering, even if he knows everyone there. When he doesn't, then, well, it's a trainwreck for Seokjin. Something about initiating conversation. It's anxiety-inducing.
Namjoon seems to be the exception to this rule. He may have been hard to be around in the beginning, what with the stress of midterms and having to share a table with a stranger, but the feeling fled nearly as quickly as it came. Now, it almost feels empty, and lonely, when Namjoon isn't here.
His phone beeps at that moment, taking him out of his thoughts. Have fun in class! Namjoon says, and Seokjin looks at the ground, smiles, and walks along to class.
"You should go out more," Namjoon says one day, while Seokjin is reading the new article his professor emailed the class. "Do you ever party?"
Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "Yoongi parties enough for the both of us, I already get a headache trying to clean up after him."
Namjoon pouts. "You should come out one day. Come to my party! I'm throwing down on Saturday. Be there."
"Is this how you invite people?" Seokjin asks, looking up from his laptop. "It's not very charming, you should find a new method." Namjoon purses his lips, but he still has this hopeful glint in his eye, and Seokjin really doesn't want to let him down. Truthfully, Seokjin does kind of want to go. Not for the party, he's never been into that scene, but at least to see Namjoon. Seeing Namjoon outside of the library would be pretty cool. Seeing him and actually meaning to see him outside the library.
"You haven't answered," Namjoon says. "You know you want to come. I've never seen you party before. Do you drink, hyung?"
"Not often," Seokjin sighs. "I'll go, but only for a little bit. You clearly haven't seen me dance, because once you do, you're gonna tell me to leave."
"I'm pretty sure I've seen much worse," Namjoon says. "And plus, I don't really dance. I just stay upstairs with a few friends and chill. Sometimes I come down, but not for long."
"Ooh," Seokjin teases, "am I going to be a part of the cool kid's club? I get to hang upstairs with all the important people."
Namjoon laughs. "The only important person is you, don't think there's any cool people. The coolest person is me. Hoseok will try to say he is, but Hoseok is always wrong."
Seokjin blinks at him. "What did you say?"
"What?"
"You said something," Seokjin says. "What did you say?"
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, but Seokjin sees his face start to flush. "Hoseok is wrong?"
"Before that."
Namjoon bites his lip, and Seokjin laughs, which then earns him a glare. "Hoseok is going to try to say he's cool, but he's not."
Seokjin grins. "Alright, I'll take it. But we both know what you said."
"Hyung!" Namjoon calls out. "I didn't think you'd really come! And what's that?"
Seokjin holds up a bottle of whiskey. Fireball, to be exact. Yoongi gave it to him, as a present, or something. He's not sure what that means exactly, but he did say that Namjoon liked whiskey. "I stole it from Yoongi," he lies. "Don't tell anyone."
Namjoon laughs and pulls Seokjin inside, closing the door behind him. "You're rebellious stage came pretty late in life, didn't it?"
Seokjin grins. "I tried my best. I'm definitely a cool kid now, aren't I?" He can feel the bass thumping from underneath his feet, and the chattering of people from the other rooms.
"Oh, yeah, definitely. And like we don't already have enough alcohol. You sure you're not going to get in trouble with Yoongi? He's scary when mad."
Seokjin shrugs. "After all the times I've cleaned up after his lazy ass, I deserve something. He has no right to complain."
Namjoon laughs, and it's then that Seokjin notices the colorful earbuds switched out for a simple black stud, hair also gelled back. Seokjin almost feels self conscious in his simple jeans and tshirt, but Namjoon doesn't look like he cares at all. He looks like the epitome of frat boy, after all, in his tight black muscle shirt and faded dark blue jeans, accompanied by the ever-so douche chain hanging around his neck.
Seokjin had maybe sprayed two extra pumps of his cologne. "Well," he says, looking in the direction of what he thinks is the kitchen, "Are you gonna show me around or are we gonna stand at the door the whole time?"
"Oh, right," Namjoon says, flustered, "yes, come in! I'll give you a mini tour of the house. As much of a tour I can give you with drunk people everywhere. So, directly on the right is the kitchen, as you can see."
Seokjin follows his way through clusters of people, gradually pushing himself closer and closer to Namjoon until they're touching at the shoulders, and groans every time someone yells something drunkenly at Namjoon. He gets it, it's his party, he knows everyone, so Seokjin just has to stand it for now.
"Sorry," Namjoon wheezes after being pulled into a hug by one of the girls by the kitchen table. "That was Sojin, she's awesome. Also kind of magical."
Seokjin laughs as Namjoon leads them away. "Magical?"
"Magical. The only way you could describe someone who's doing mechanical engineering and has a 4.0 GPA, and parties every weekend. Sometimes during the week, too." They walk back where they came from and across the foir to the living room. There, Seokjin finds the kid from his Political Econ class making out with a girl on the couch, hand already down her pants. Namjoon coughs. "I'll go tell Youngjae to tell them off or something. Let's just go upstairs." He motions to Seokjin to walk by himself, and turns to yell something into the kitchen, and Seokjin barely manages to see a boy with blonde hair yell something back and walk towards the living room. "Sorry about that," Namjoon sighs. "House rules, we decided in the beginning of the year. Sexy times only in your rooms, and only people who live in the house can have sex in the house. In their rooms."
Seokjin doesn't see the need to know this rule -- party or not, a stranger shoving their hand down another stranger's pants in front of you is never exciting to look at. Or well, he guesses they're not really strangers, since they're at Namjoon's place.
"Alright, so, we have four people living in the house. We all have our own rooms, praise the lord. That one on the far left is Youngjae's, the one next to it is Taemin's, then is Jiho, and finally, on the right is my room. You can actually bring that to my room," Namjoon says, nodding his head towards the bottle in Seokjin's hand. "My room is usually where my friends sit and just chill."
Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "I thought you were the dancing kind of guy."
"See?" Namjoon says to himself, exasperated, "Everyone thinks that! I actually don't dance at all, I'm awful. I hate dancing anyway. Everyone assumes I like to dance." He opens the door to his room, which, surprisingly, turns out to be empty. "Do I really look like I dance?"
Seokjin shrugs. He just assumed that from his general pseudo-fratboy vibes. "You have a dancer body?" he tries.
"What's a dancer body?" Namjoon asks, grabbing the bottle of Fireball and placing it on the counter.
"I dunno," Seokjin admits. "Lean?"
Namjoon pouts. "And here I thought I was getting jacked from going to the gym so much. Gotta work harder. And hey, have a seat. You can just sit on my bed, or I can steal a chair from Taemin's room."
"Nah, it's fine," Seokjin says as Namjoon pulls out his phone to look at a text. "Your room is interesting."
Namjoon's room is much more plain than Seokjin expected it to be. It's got a desk, a drawer cabinet, and a bed. The wall has a few posters, a picture of Kendrick Lamar, a Star Trek poster, and a fake motivational poster that says, 'Simplicity: The simple solutions are often the cleverest. They're also probably wrong.' The picture in the poster is a right triangle asking to find x. It's circled, and next to it is written "here it is." Seokjin laughs at it, loud enough for Namjoon to look up from his phone in questioning until he sees where Seokjin's looking.
"Oh, that," he laughs. "Hoseok gave it to me in our freshman year. I actually did that on one of my exams. Got detention for it in high school."
"Detention?" Seokjin asks. "For circling an x?"
Namjoon grins. "Let's just say it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was a smartass in high school."
"You're still a smartass," Seokjin retorts.
"Wow," Namjoon says, holding his hands to his chest in mock hurt. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words cause psychological wounds that never heal."
Someone laughs from the door, and Seokjin and Namjoon look to see Hoseok and Hunchul standing at the doorway. "Jeez, overdramatic much. Don't worry Seokjin," Hunchul says. "Namjoon just has no chill."
"Compared to you?" Namjoon scoffs. "Get out of here."
"I brought shot glasses!" Hoseok says. "You can't kick me out. Also, Taehyung and Jimin just came, so we came to avoid the hot mess that is going to happen."
"Oh god," Namjoon groans, then turns to Seokjin. "Nothing good happens when Jimin's here. Do you know him?"
"Isn’t he your roommate?” Seokjin asks Hoseok. “I’ve heard some horror stories, but that’s it. Who is he exactly?"
"A menace," Hoseok says as he puts the shot glasses on Namjoon's desk. "That's who. That's when the party transitions from casual dancing and chatting to body shots and sex on the deck."
"Uh," Seokjin stares at Namjoon, who grins back at him. "Oh no?"
"I dunno," Namjoon casually says, "I'm feelin' a little wild tonight. Ready for shots?"
Seokjin didn't really know what he was expecting to see when he came to Namjoon's place, and he's still not really sure if he's surprised or not, but a new sense of nervousness bubbles up in his stomach and Hoseok pours out four shots and hands the small cup to Seokjin.
It's not that Seokjin hasn't drank before. He's 21, he's done his share fair of drinking. Maybe not as often as most people, but enough. It also helps that he's a natural born tank, so alcohol doesn't do much to him, except for that one time he drank two whole bottles of wine because his favorite character in one of the books he was reading died. But that's a different story.
The reason why his hand shakes (only a bit, he swears) as he gets ready to tip the glass back is because Namjoon is grinning at him expectantly, eyes twinkling as he counts, "three, two, one!", and they all drain their glasses.
The liquid burns as it usually does when it goes down Seokjin's throat, but it's not the worst thing in the world. The cinnamon makes it slightly more bearable, but next to him, Hunchul coughs and Hoseok blinks his eyes furiously.
"So much for sitting around and talking," Namjoon says wistfully, but Seokjin catches something not quite honest in his tone. Something short of playful, short of mischievous. "Another?"
Half an hour later, they're five drinks in, Seokjin's pouring himself a sixth because he just barely feels a slight fuzzy feeling in his head, but not enough. Namjoon is sitting on his bed and laughing at something Hoseok's just said, laughs hard enough to flop over onto his pillow clumsily.
"Seokjin," Hunchul says, "not that we've been the best example, but now's probably the time to slow down on the alcohol. I'm thinking of heading downstairs in a bit."
He shrugs. "This much is close to nothing to me, to be honest. I'll let you know when it gets there, though. You can stop me at eleven, if I really go all out."
"Eleven?" Hoseok asks incredulously. Namjoon stares at him from the bed, mouth agape. "How drunk are you trying to get?"
"Drunk?" Seokjin asks. "I'm not trying to get drunk. I'm alright with getting tipsy though."
"I see why Yoongi is your roommate now," Hunchul slurs, sitting up again. "The two tanks would live together."
Namjoon groans. "That's not fun. Come downstairs with me, I can grab some vodka in the freezer. I'll steal Youngjae's powerade, he owes me anyway."
Seokjin shrugs. He doesn't have anything else to do, and Hunchul and Hoseok wave them off with being tired and not wanting to deal with Jimin's madness. He's actually rather curious to see who this Jimin is and what impact he has. He has noticed a sudden increase in music volume, but figured that was just due to the alcohol, and thumping bass isn't exactly rare at house parties.
Namjoon stumbles when he gets on his feet, bumping lightly into Seokjin, and Seokjin grabs his arm to steady him. His skin is hot to the touch, compared to Seokjin's own, and Namjoon hisses at the contact. "Why are your hands so cold?" he asks. Seokjin shrugs.
They make their way to Youngjae's room, and Namjoon grabs two bottles of Powerade and then they make their way downstairs, and that's when Seokjin sees all the difference.
There's twice as many people as there was when he first came, all stuck together in a giant, sweaty human mess. Namjoon grabs onto Seokjin's wrist as he pulls him through the crowd, and Seokjin nearly screams when he sees someone lying down on the kitchen island, a few girls around.
"God dammit, Jimin," Namjoon yells, "get off the fucking table."
Oh. So this is Jimin. This Jimin person leans up, little drops of liquid running down his body, and Namjoon looks at Seokjin, and glowers at his widening eyes and open mouth, because he pushes Seokjin behind him and crosses his arms.
Jimin pretty much looks like he's what would happen if you took a Greek god and a fratboy and shoved them in a blender and then spit them out in Korea. His arms might be bigger than his head, and his abs definitely have more definition than any part of Seokjin at all. His jaw is probably as sharp as a blade, except his smile is blinding as he laughs.
"Namjoon! I was wondering when you'd come down. Who's that behind you?"
"Oh, this is Seokjin, the one I was talking to you about the other day. Seokjin, this is the infamous Jimin."
"You were right about the body shots," Seokjin laughs, stepping forward and taking Jimin's hand and shaking it.
Jimin shrugs. "I did it once, and then I was just suddenly known for it. Gotta stick with the image, you know?"
Seokjin nods, even though he definitely doesn't know.
"Anyway!" Jimin suddenly says, grinning at Namjoon and Seokjin, and Seokjin has a very bad feeling, "I know you both would love to drink beer off my body Namjoon, but I'm more about the girl life, so let's just grab the good stuff in the freezer I know you have."
As he walks off, Namjoon sighs. "Jimin's also aggressively heterosexual," he says. "Not that it affects me, but he's the one that wears basketball shorts in the snow."
Seokjin wrinkles his nose, and Namjoon laughs as Jimin comes back and he puts the bottles of Powerade on the table. The bottles opened and more glasses are poured, and soon Seokjin's got himself a nice mix of Powerade and three? four? shots of vodka. Namjoon's shaking his own concoction as they watch Jimin drain the rest of the Powerade bottle mixed with god who knows how much alcohol. "How much does he normally drink?"
"No idea," Namjoon says, "but he's a serial blackout-er. We usually end up having to tell him what happened and how many he went home with."
"That's uh... that's nice," Seokjin mumbles. Namjoon laughs, walking away from the kitchen.
"Let's leave that one to his own devices. I'll show you the basement where everyone's dancing."
"I'm not a dancer," Seokjin warns and they make their way down the stairs. Namjoon snorts and gives him a look in reply, and that's really all he needs, considering Namjoon.
Now the music is blaring in his ear, and Seokjin is reminded why he never goes out to parties. Namjoon says something to him, but he can't hear it over the bass of some indie rap song. "What?" he yells.
"It was a lot nicer before," Namjoon screams back. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
Seokjin watches as he takes a very, very long swig of his alcohol concoction thing. Seokjin wonders if he should too, and figures why not, he's just tipsy.
Namjoon's eyes are diluted, and he's not sure if it's because he's drunk or because it's pretty dark in the basement, but both are pretty good guesses. "Go dance," Seokjin says, as they move to the side, away from the speakers. "Since you're so good at it."
"Well, I mean, you said you were so much better, so why don't you show me how it's done?" Namjoon slurs, and Seokjin casually -- or as casually as he can -- takes the bottle from Namjoon.
"I said no such thing." He knows how this game is played. There have been other instances of people trying to get Seokjin to dance with them the same way. He wonders how bad Namjoon's beer goggles are.
Seokjin really just wants to maybe go back upstairs and chat meaninglessly for an hour or two. Or three.
It turns out that he doesn't have to stall any longer because Hoseok and Jimin come hollering down the stairs, barreling into Namjoon and knocking the wind out of him. Seokjin takes the chance to make sure the coast is clear and then toss the plastic bottle over his shoulder. They'll find it tomorrow.
"I think this is my cue to leave," he says to himself, after Namjoon gets carried away in the wave. The last thing he wants to do is dance, so he makes his way back up the stairs and into the kitchen, then back out again, because Jimin has at least four girls around him and that's pretty weird.
Upstairs it is. Namjoon's room was the one all the way on the right, he tells himself, and walks in, collapsing on the bed.
NEXT
namjoon/seokjin
17,000 words; pg-13
no applicable warnings
hello guys! I'M BACK! and (hopefully) better than ever. idy why fandom still uses livejournal when ao3 is god's gift to any fandom ever, but here is the lj mirror. (this fic was originally posted to ao3, and i've provided a mirror link) but yes, i hope you all enjoy! the world needs more namjin.
AO3 MIRROR
Fuck Hoseok. Fuck this Econ test tomorrow, and fuck the fact that Hoseok decided to fucking ditch him so he could drive down to his hometown this weekend and visit his damn girlfriend.
There might just be a place in hell for him, a place called "I'm-not-an-econ-major-so-I'm-not-going-to-study-the-day-before-this-huge-exam".
More than that, he hates the fact that Hoseok probably doesn't even have to study. Seokjin wants to be born with the ability to fall asleep in class and still get A's on all his tests like Hoseok.
Someone taps his shoulder. "Excuse me?"
Seokjin looks up from his textbook, something about oligopolies and demand supplies, to see a guy with bright platinum blond hair with the sides shaved, staring down at him. He's got these giant bright blue headphones that could probably double as a blue strobelight. What the hell.
"Sorry," he says, and points to the seat to his right, "do you mind if I sit here? All the other tables are taken."
He knows its a busy day, midterm week and all, but wow, now that he actually looks up from his books, every single table at the library has some student or three sitting at them. "Yeah," he says, scooting his chair over a bit. "Of course."
Blondie With Shaved Sides gives him a grateful smile and he slides into the seat. "Thanks," he says, and that's that. He pulls his headphones over his ears and dumps a giant linguistics textbook onto the desk.
Midterms week can go get the flu or something. Day three of being cooped up in the library and Seokjin just wants all his midterm to end. Two more, he tells himself. Just two more, and he's free. These two place over the course of one and a half weeks, but that also means that Seokjin doesn't have to pull an allnighter two days in a row, so score there.
Apparently everyone else is on the same schedule as him, because the library hasn't looked like a single student has left it. If anything, it seems more crowded than before, or maybe Seokjin's just gotten too familiar with this vandalized wooden table he's been sitting at. He picks at the heart filled 'KM + JS' scratched on the table, just to make it a little different.
"Hey," someone says, followed by a tap to his shoulder. "Can I sit here?"
He looks up, and oh, there he is again, Blondie With Shaved Sides, blue headphones switched out this time for simple white earbuds. He looks a little more normal, even with his crazy hair.
"Oh," Blondie says. "It's you. Hi."
"Hey," Seokjin mumbles, thumbing over his International Economy textbook. "And yeah, sure, go ahead."
He doesn't scoot over this time, figures Blondie has plenty of space, and goes back to his books. Blondie does the same.
Third time's the charm, Seokjin supposes.
Or maybe it's just become routine now. A three day long routine. Blondie asks to sit next to him again, except this time he just greets him with a "Hey! Do you mind, again?" and Seokjin shakes his head, and moves his stuff so there's space for Blondie. Except this time there's talk.
"You're definitely a Business major, aren't you?" Blondie asks with a raised eyebrow.
Seokjin looks up from his Political Econ book. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Economics. Exam Thursday. You?"
"Rough, man. Linguistics, with a focus in English and Japanese."
"Cool," Seokjin says, and lets the silence fill in between them like cement.
Blondie doesn't seem fazed. He reaches out his hand, actually. "I should probably introduce myself. I'm Kim Namjoon, the guy who's been stealing all your study space."
"Kim Seokjin. I don't mind as much as you think."
"Awesome," Namjoon says. "I'll leave you to your things, then."
Seokjin's grateful for that much. If there's anything Seokjin's bad at, it's introductions. He's only ever made friends by being introduced to people by other people, and then only joins in conversations after he's watched them for a bit. The silence between them is comfortable though, and Seokjin uncaps his highlighter again to get back to business.
"Are you always in the library?" Namjoon asks. This time, he just flops onto the seat across from Seokjin without asking and pulls out his laptop.
Seokjin thinks about it. "Not always," he mumbles, and figures that's probably only half a lie. "But usually. I like quiet, and I can't do anything productive in my room."
Mainly because his room always smells like weed, thanks to his roommate Yoongi, who is not that bad of a person, but just really sucks at getting the smell of late night parties out of his clothes.
It doesn't help that all of his friends are underclassmen, minus like, Hyosang, who sends more time with his girlfriend, Sunyoung, in one day combined than with Seokjin the whole week. Seokjin's already awkward enough by himself as it is, he doesn't need to also third wheel.
"Makes sense," Namjoon says, and then pauses. "How'd your exam go, by the way?"
"Huh?"
"Exam," he repeats. "You said you had an Econ exam on Thursday."
"Oh!" Seokjin wonders how the hell he even remembered that. He's pretty sure Namjoon has more important things to remember than his exam schedule, like which bright colored headphones he's gonna wear today. Speaking off, he can see the skinny lime green headphones peeking out of his backpack. "It... went okay, I guess. Can never be too sure; gotta wait for my grade."
"The worst part," Namjoon says, sighing. "Hang in there, I'm sure you did great. I've never seen anyone as concentrated in their work as you."
Well, Seokjin thinks, blinking, that was unexpected. "Thanks?" he asks, and laughs when Namjoon scratches the back of his head nervously. "What about you?" he asks, just because this poor kid has been asking him questions the whole time. "Are you here to just do homework?"
"Oh, I wish," Namjoon sighs, but his eyes brighten, like he's been waiting for Seokjin to ask him something about himself this whole time. "I've got an English exam on Wednesday. English grammar is so confusing. But I actually usually do homework here, I'm just usually on the third floor."
"I wish you luck," Seokjin replies, "I'm usually right here, really. This table might just have an invisible 'Reserved for Kim Seokjin' nameplate on it."
Namjoon grins at him. "I wish I had that. I have to fight for my spot every day." He presses something on his laptop and hums. "I guess maybe that's why I end up here each time."
Seokjin smiles pleasantly at him, trying to think of a decent reply, but his mind fizzles out and maybe he even blushes. Crap, no. He can't think of that, not when he's got a Research Ethics paper due tomorrow.
"Okay, I'm going to tune you out now to work," Namjoon says, and Seokjin nearly collapses onto the floor in relief.
"Cool," he mumbles, and fishes his iPod out of his bag.
Monday.
Seokjin's got one more exam tomorrow at 8AM, and he's got at least five cups of coffee spiraling through his veins right now and holy crap there are four e's in this word, that's so weird. Four e's.
Thank god he's got a laptop open because he doesn't think he could hold a pencil and write legibly because his hands are shaking so much. Coffee dehydrates you, right? He wonders if you can get coffee hangovers. Coffee hangovers, that sounds awful.
Another thank God that the library is practically empty. Most of the midterms were last week and the week before, so the only people inside right now are late stragglers like Seokjin, or people who usually spend their time in the library, which is also like Seokjin.
"You're still here?"
He doesn't even need to look up to know who it is now. He looks anyway, because Namjoon's face doesn't have any words on them that have to deal with the statistics of the economic growth of Seoul after World War II. "Yup," he says, "unfortunately. One more exam tomorrow, and oh god, I'm going to fail? Also hi."
Namjoon peers closely at him, and Seokjin would feel self conscious if he could concentrate on one spot, but he can't hahahah, wow look at that, Namjoon's got nice looking eyes actually, they're more cute than anything. It doesn't match his hairstyle, or his headphones. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Seokjin says, way too quickly. "Why?"
Namjoon's still staring at him weirdly. "You're shaking. Are you okay? Are you on drugs or someth-"
His voice cuts off and when Seokjin follows his gaze, it ends up landing on the coffee cup.
"You... how many cups of coffee have you drank?"
"Um," Seokjin pauses, and for a second it almost seems like the world has paused too, except Namjoon takes a step back and the answer swings into his head. "Five!" he says, proud of himself for remembering.
"Stay here," Namjoon says, and then he's gone, and Seokjin's staring at the white pillar behind him and what just happened?
Namjoon's left his bag here, so he probably hasn't run away forever, unless he's planning to donate his laptop to Seokjin, which he wouldn't mind all that much, but doubts that's actually what happened.
"Here," he hears Namjoon's voice ring, followed by an ice cold sensation pressed against his cheek that makes him jolt in his chair.
"What the hell--" But then Namjoon places the water bottle on his desk, condensation creeping onto the wood, and takes his place next to Seokjin.
"You're going to crash," Namjoon says. "Why'd you drink so much coffee?"
"Exam tomorrow," Seokjin says. "At 8AM. I know nothing at all -- I spent so much time studying for the other two exams that now I'm fucked for this one tomorrow and oh god, I'm going to fail--"
Oddly enough, Namjoon doesn't stop him. Seokjin can feel the gazes of other students on him for being so loud, but Namjoon still lets him prattle on.
"Oh god," he finally finishes. He catches the eye of a girl sitting at the next next to them and she gives him a sympathetic glance before turning back to her work. Behind her, Namjoon is looking at him, and Seokjin looks back, expectant, even though he doesn't know what he's expectant of.
"You good now?" Namjoon asks, and Seokjin nods stupidly. "Good. Now drink water and take a nap. I have a paper to write so I'll be here for a while."
His fingertips freeze where they touch the bottle, and the feeling of ice water stuns his body for a moment, caught between shaking from caffeine and shaking from cold. He gets stuck in the middle, frigid in his seat, and when he makes eye contact with Namjoon again, he bursts into laughter.
"What?" Seokjin asks.
Namjoon shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. "Just -- your face was funny."
Seokjin stares at him, unsure or whether that's an insult or not, but forgoes it in favor for water.
"Really," he hears Namjoon say in the background. "Just, relax. You'll do better this way, trust me. I'll wake you up in twenty minutes."
Seokjin groans, fishing around for his phone. It's 7:30, which is just enough time to put on a shirt and run to his exam. Somewhere under his sheets, his phone is blaring one of A-Pink’s newest songs, and it takes all of his concentration to find it. When he does, it comes along with a text message from an unknown number. Good luck on your exam! You can do it! :-)
Seokjin should probably worry about who that is, but he's got an exam in twenty minutes and he still hasn't brushed his teeth yet, or put on a shirt. At least, thanks to all the coffee he drank the day before, he crashed by the time he went to sleep, and he's not as groggy waking up as he usually is, so that's a score, maybe. Either way, he'll take all the luck he can get.
"I'm gonna cry," Hoseok says when he walks out the classroom. "What the hell was that question about the difference between social-market economy and corporate capitalism?”
“I didn’t get that question,” Seokjin mumbles, pulling out his phone, and Hoseok groans even louder.
"How do you think you did?" Hoseok asks as Seokjin stares at his screen.
“I don't know what day it is," he replies, and Hoseok pats him on the back sympathetically.
"I feel that," he says. "Where are you heading after this? I wanna eat and play Mario Kart for the rest of the day. Wanna join?"
Seokjin thinks it over. Technically, he's already done his homework, and he doesn't have any more exams to study for, so he doesn't have to go to the library, but at the same time he kind of really wants to. Something to do with obnoxious bleached hair and wide, gummy smile. Maybe. "Nah, I gotta look over some things I forgot for another class. I'll see you later?"
Hoseok grins at him with a glint in his eye, and Seokjin gulps. "Yeah," he says. "Alright. See you then!"
"Didn't you just have an exam?" Namjoon asks, eyebrow raised as he pulls out his bright orange earbuds. How many earphones does he even have?
"Y...eah..." Seojkin mumbles, looking around for an excuse. Maybe he should have thought this through before. "I wanted to see how I did on the exam?"
Namjoon snorts and closes his textbook. "That's just gonna screw with your mind. Here, I don't actually have to do this now, so do you wanna do something?"
"Do something?" Seokjin asks, and watches the edges of Namjoon's lips curl up.
That's how Seokjin ends up back in Hoseok's apartment, rubbing his shoes together and staring at the ground.
"Seokjin hyung!" Hoseok greets, bright smile and all, "You decided to come after all. And you know Namjoonie?"
"You know Namjoon?" Seokjin asks, even though it makes more sense that they know each other. They're both loud and vibrant people, unlike Seokjin who seems to dullen everyday and fade into the background.
"We went to high school together," Hoseok explains. Seokjin tries his best not to feel like an outsider, especially when they high five each other and hug. Namjoon slaps him on the back until Hoseok is hacking, and Seokjin rolls his eyes. Hoseok laughs. "Aw, don't do that hyung. You know you love our manliness."
"You both smell like douche," Seokjin retorts.
Namjoon raises his hands in mock offense. "Wow, okay. I was gonna go easy on you in Mario Kart, but now I can't."
Hoseok wins. He wins because he's a dirty cheater, but he's too lame to admit that.
"You're awful," Seokjin accuses. "Cheater."
Hoseok doesn't deny it. "You just need to concentrate more on the game," he says, grinning.
"I want a rematch," Namjoon says, and Hoseok throws a chip at him.
"Wanna lose again?"
"I'll win even with your cheating. I'll make up for me and Seokjin hyung.”
That's kind of sweet, Seokjin thinks. In a weird, not really heroic but kind of heroic way. He needs to stop thinking. What time is it?
"Oh Jesus, it's nine. I may have accidentally skipped a class."
"Oh, so have we," Namjoon says. "Except not so accidentally."
"Stop negatively influencing me. This isn't good for my academic career."
"Hyung," Namjoon replies slowly, "you're a junior. You don't have much of an academic career lef-"
Seokjin puts a finger to his lips and shushes him loudly. "I don't know what you're talking about." He also tries not to think about how soft Namjoon's lips feel against his finger. God that's so creepy. Seokjin, be less creepy.
"Let him wallow in his old age later," Hoseok says. "Don't even mention the j-o-b word to him."
Seokjin glares at him. "Wow, look at the time. I suddenly have a thing to do back at my dorm that always smells like weed and alcohol. Guess I'll see you guys later."
"Yoongi hyung isn't that bad."
Seokjin glares at him again. Yoongi is a great roommate, which is why they've been living together for the past two years, but his room still always smells like weed and alcohol. He never fails to tell Yoongi this every day, and Yoongi never fails to not give a shit. Thank the lord for fruity body sprays, honestly. "But really," Seokjin says. "I have an 8AM class tomorrow, so I really should get back. I have homework for it and everything."
"Oh," Namjoon and Hoseok both say. Namjoon continues speaking. "In that case, should I bounce too? Hoseok's no fun by himself."
Hoseok grins and kicks him in the shin. "I'm plenty of fun by myself, just ask my dick."
"Dude," Seokjin groans. "Dude. This is why you're single."
"Yeah, that's our cue to leave," Namjoon says quickly. "I'll walk with you and talk about all of Hoseok's dirty secrets."
"I don't have secrets," Hoseok replies as Namjoon slides his flip flops on. Seokjin rolls his eyes, because Namjoon would be that douchebag that wears socks and sandals in March. Namjoon opens the door as Hoseok continues, "But whatever you can say, I can assure you that it will be dirty."
"Leave, leave, leave," Seokjin hisses, backpack already slung across his back. "See you later Hobi."
He hears what is probably a goodbye, but in actuality sounds the a satanic ritual. Makes sense.
Right, so now it's just Namjoon and Seokjin. Outside the library. It's cool, everything's cool. Seokjin is a cool person, he's chill. Kind of.
"So where do you live?" Namjoon asks, looking ahead of them both as they walk away from Hoseok's dorm. He wonders how his roommate, Jimin, deals with him. Then he remembers exactly who Jimin is and pretends he never asked himself such a thing.
"Off campus," Seokjin sighs. "Well, it's on campus, but it's off campus housing. It's a little down the road from the library. What about you?"
"I live right next to the library!" Namjoon says cheerfully. Seokjin tries not to think about how there are stars in Namjoon's eyes, that reflect and burst in Seokjin's heart, and wow, fuck. Fuck no. Seokjin's not that in deep, not yet. "Great, we can walk back together."
Seokjin's not much of a talker, so it's a good thing that Namjoon is, because he keeps the conversation going without Seokjin needing to worry about keeping up with exaggerated hand gestures and old high school stories of how Namjoon and Hoseok met, or that one time where Hoseok was trying to tell his crush a joke and laughed so hard at his own pun that orange juice came out of his nose. Seokjin interjects when he feels his comment is worth saying, says how in his freshman year, his friend's roommate may have been a murderer, because when they first met his greeting words were, "These walls are really soundproof. You could kill a man in here and no one would hear him scream." Namjoon gets a kick out of that one.
"There was one time where this guy I used to like gave me his number and I found out way too late that my friends fucked with my keyboard shortcuts, so 'hey' turned into 'come touch my dick'. He doesn't talk to me anymore."
Seokjin feels really bad for laughing, but before he knows it, he's leaning against a streetlamp and trying to relearn how to breathe all over again. "Come touch my dick," he wheezes. "You have some great friends."
"I do," Namjoon says, sounding much more proud than Seokjin expected. "I have you and Hoseok, my friends are awesome."
Friends. Seokjin hadn't actually considered them friends before. They were some sort of weird friend-acquaintance library buddy thing. "I don't even have your phone number, friend."
Namjoon stops in his tracks, eyebrow raised. "Yes you do?"
Seokjin frowns. "I don't?"
Namjoon laughs and holds his hand out, and Seokjin places it into his hand. "Who do you think texted you good luck on your exam? I'll type in my name, since you didn't get it."
It's when Namjoon's punched half his name that it hits Seokjin. "Wait, Namjoon, are you gay?"
"Yeah." Namjoon, unfazed, doesn't look up from his phone, "there's an LGBT pin on my backpack. You never noticed?"
Seokjin leans over and finds out that there is, indeed, a giant rainbow colored pin on his backpack, among all of the other bright trinkets and pins. "I didn't," he says. "I just... You're the first other gay guy I've met on campus?"
Namjoon has his eyebrows scrunched together when he hands Seokjin's phone back. "We have a gay frat, y'know? I was gonna rush for them when I was a freshman, but decided against it last minute since I hadn't come out at the time."
"Wow," Seokjin breathes. Namjoon hands his phone back to him, and they continue to walk. "So much has changed since I first came here. They just created a Gay-Straight Alliance club in my high school last year. My friend asked me to come, but I'm not the most attention seeking person, so I didn't go."
"I don't think that has anything to do with being attention seeking," Namjoon points out, but Seokjin just shrugs. They both know what he means. "But, you know, if you ever need like... support or something, you got me. That's someone at least. It sucks being alone."
Seokjin stares at the ground as he walks, one foot in front of the other. "Thanks," he mumbles, not quite sure if Namjoon's heard it until he hears a little scoff and then a finger digs into his back. Seokjin yelps, and Namjoon starts to laugh in earnest.
"What are you thanking me for? I’m just doing what any good friend should do, you know?"
"Yeah," Seokjin says. "Yeah."
They arrive in front of Seokjin's apartment, and Namjoon gives him a little wave. "I'll see you later then? Are you gonna be at our library date tomorrow?"
Seokjin laughs. "Of course. Two o'clock, don't be late."
"I won't. Good night!"
"Good night."
Seokjin doesn't even mind when Yoongi's passed out on the beanbag chair, bottle of vodka sitting dangerously close to the edge of the little coffee table they have. He caps the bottle and puts it in the fridge, staring down at his roommate and wondering what the hell he should do with him. It's a Tuesday night, so he knows Yoongi isn't being too irresponsible since he doesn't have class until five tomorrow, but still. He should probably get this lump off of the couch.
"How was Hoseok's place?" Yoongi groans, and Seokjin nearly drops the shot glass.
"You're awake?"
Yoongi grins up at him, bringing the pillow to his chest. "I only had two shots, Seokjin. Who do I look like to you?"
"Borderline alcoholic," Seokjin grumbles under his breath. "It's a Tuesday, and you're drinking alone."
"I couldn't sleep."
"That's the worst reason to drink alcohol for," Seokjin scolds, and fishes a water bottle from the fridge. "Now drink this and go to bed. This is as much as I'm cleaning up for you."
"Yes, wife," Yoongi groans. "And I'm sure there's worse you can drink for. You still haven't answered about Hoseok's place."
Seokjin tosses the bottle to him and sits on his bed. "It was fun. We played video games, nothing big. Namjoon was there, too. I don't think you know Namjoon."
"Nah, I know him," Yoongi says, uncapping the bottle. "I've heard of him, at least. Chill guy. Hell of a partier, but he's chill. Hyosang knows him."
"Hyosang?" Seokjin blinks down at Yoongi, who ignores him in favor of chugging the water bottle. "Hyosang's known him this whole time and hasn't told me?"
"Is he supposed to?" Yoongi asks.
Seokjin scoffs. "It's Hyosang, obviously. Especially when it's someone like Namjoon."
Yoongi rolls his eyes and drains the rest of the bottle. "You mean especially if it's someone you like. Seokjin, you're so readable. Do you even know if he's into guys?"
"Why do you always crush my dreams? And yes, he told me he's gay today."
"Oh," Yoongi breathes, then gets off the couch, shooting the water bottle into the trash can next to Seokjin. "In that case, proceed. He probably likes you back."
"What makes you say that?"
Yoongi shrugs. "Intuition. Also I'm used to you hiding your sexuality from most of the world."
Seokjin groans. He hates this talk. He doesn't want to have this talk at all. Best to stop it in it's tracks before it grows. "Yoongi, you know why I don't--"
"I know," Yoongi sighs. "Parents, jobs, life, all that crazy stuff. You have your reasons, that's cool. I'm just saying, I'd look into it."
"He has an LGBT pin on his backpack," Seokjin grumbles.
"Isn't he an English workshop mentor? I thought they have to have those pins," Yoongi points out. "To show that they're allies and all, ‘all students are welcome’, even if they’re not. It's a really cheap tactic, it's why I don't do tutoring anymore."
"Oh," Seokjin mumbles. "So what are you trying to say?"
Yoongi shrugs. "I'm not trying to say anything. But I'm glad you came out to him. He's a good dude, I've heard. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do homework and pass out again."
Seokjin watches as Yoongi drags himself up off the beanbag, grabs his books, and stumbles out the door into the lounge. The door slams shortly after and Seokjin sighs, rubbing his temples absentmindedly. "I expect the room to be clean by tomorrow!" Seokjin yells, just because he can.
2PM, second floor of the library, Seokjin's got a different table in the back corner, for a second, he almost wonders if Namjoon will find him this time, since he usually sits on the opposite side of the room, but a tired looking bleached hair boy with pink earbuds trudges in ten minutes later and plops down next to Seokjin. "Why are you so tired?" he asks.
Namjoon mumbles something into the wood, and Seokjin pretends he understands.
"Okay," he replies, "so why are you here?"
"Still have work," Namjoon sighs. "Got more work. I don't have much exams, but all these papers."
Seokjin considers patting him on the back, but decides against it. "How many left?"
"Three. Well, two. I'm just about to finish this one." Namjoon slowly, and very begrudgingly, gets out his laptop and starts it up, blinking at the screen like it personally offends him. Seokjin watches with uninhibited curiosity as Namjoon yawns, taps his password, then groans when it's wrong and face plants onto the table. "Good night," he says.
"O...okay," Seokjin mumbles. "Good night, I guess." He turns back to his Econ textbook.
Two hours later, the body next to him stirs, and Seokjin, again, watches Namjoon blink the sleep out of his eyes and lean back in his chair, turning his head to face Seokjin. "What time is it?" he groans.
"Four thirty," Seokjin answers robotically.
“F-Four thirty?” Namjoon jumps up in his seat, trying to frantically rub the sleep out of his eyes. “You should’ve woken me up earlier, hyung.”
Seokjin scoffs. “Your hyung aegyo isn’t going to work on me. And I let you rest. Stay here, and I’ll be back, okay?”
Namjoon mumbles something under his breath as Seokjin stands up. Truthfully, a sleeping Namjoon was a rather nice Namjoon to have next to him. Well, an awake Namjoon isn't too bad either. They're both nice, Seokjin thinks as he walks to the vending machine downstairs and gets two coffees. Namjoon in general is really nice, which is something Seokjin probably would have never guessed from looking at his bleached hair and weirdly colored earbuds (how many does he have?).
They don't seem like the type of people who would get along, but they kind of go together, like milk and coffee! Seokjin laughs as he pours the creamer into Namjoon's cup. He remembers Namjoon bringing in cups of white chocolate mochas and caramel brulee lattes during exam week. A freshman standing next to him takes a step away from Seokjin and grabs her cup as quickly as she can and runs.
He guesses that's what happen you just click with someone. Clicking over things like exams and papers and that same wood table in the back of the group study lounge on the second floor. That doesn't make sense, does it?
Seokjin places the coffee cup next to a dozing Namjoon, fingers sliding over the keyboard sloppily. "Hurry up and finish your essay. You have two more to write."
"Hyung, why?"
Seokjin smiles and pets Namjoon on the head, who gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, as he lets out all his complaints about his professors and his classes and No one really talks like this in America, and Seokjin listens carefully, pulling out his own highlighters to start studying.
They spend the day working alongside each other quietly except for the occasional nudge of encouragement, and when Seokjin finally leaves for his evening class, he thinks he could get used to this. Is used to this. Doesn't want to ever end.
They could be like Bonnie and Clyde. Well, sort of. Minus all the conning and theft. And almost everything else. Seokjin needs to get a new definition of romance.
It's just that he really likes Namjoon and that's kind of scary.
The problem with Seokjin is that he's too damn shy. He'll be the most awkward and quiet person at a group gathering, even if he knows everyone there. When he doesn't, then, well, it's a trainwreck for Seokjin. Something about initiating conversation. It's anxiety-inducing.
Namjoon seems to be the exception to this rule. He may have been hard to be around in the beginning, what with the stress of midterms and having to share a table with a stranger, but the feeling fled nearly as quickly as it came. Now, it almost feels empty, and lonely, when Namjoon isn't here.
His phone beeps at that moment, taking him out of his thoughts. Have fun in class! Namjoon says, and Seokjin looks at the ground, smiles, and walks along to class.
"You should go out more," Namjoon says one day, while Seokjin is reading the new article his professor emailed the class. "Do you ever party?"
Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "Yoongi parties enough for the both of us, I already get a headache trying to clean up after him."
Namjoon pouts. "You should come out one day. Come to my party! I'm throwing down on Saturday. Be there."
"Is this how you invite people?" Seokjin asks, looking up from his laptop. "It's not very charming, you should find a new method." Namjoon purses his lips, but he still has this hopeful glint in his eye, and Seokjin really doesn't want to let him down. Truthfully, Seokjin does kind of want to go. Not for the party, he's never been into that scene, but at least to see Namjoon. Seeing Namjoon outside of the library would be pretty cool. Seeing him and actually meaning to see him outside the library.
"You haven't answered," Namjoon says. "You know you want to come. I've never seen you party before. Do you drink, hyung?"
"Not often," Seokjin sighs. "I'll go, but only for a little bit. You clearly haven't seen me dance, because once you do, you're gonna tell me to leave."
"I'm pretty sure I've seen much worse," Namjoon says. "And plus, I don't really dance. I just stay upstairs with a few friends and chill. Sometimes I come down, but not for long."
"Ooh," Seokjin teases, "am I going to be a part of the cool kid's club? I get to hang upstairs with all the important people."
Namjoon laughs. "The only important person is you, don't think there's any cool people. The coolest person is me. Hoseok will try to say he is, but Hoseok is always wrong."
Seokjin blinks at him. "What did you say?"
"What?"
"You said something," Seokjin says. "What did you say?"
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, but Seokjin sees his face start to flush. "Hoseok is wrong?"
"Before that."
Namjoon bites his lip, and Seokjin laughs, which then earns him a glare. "Hoseok is going to try to say he's cool, but he's not."
Seokjin grins. "Alright, I'll take it. But we both know what you said."
"Hyung!" Namjoon calls out. "I didn't think you'd really come! And what's that?"
Seokjin holds up a bottle of whiskey. Fireball, to be exact. Yoongi gave it to him, as a present, or something. He's not sure what that means exactly, but he did say that Namjoon liked whiskey. "I stole it from Yoongi," he lies. "Don't tell anyone."
Namjoon laughs and pulls Seokjin inside, closing the door behind him. "You're rebellious stage came pretty late in life, didn't it?"
Seokjin grins. "I tried my best. I'm definitely a cool kid now, aren't I?" He can feel the bass thumping from underneath his feet, and the chattering of people from the other rooms.
"Oh, yeah, definitely. And like we don't already have enough alcohol. You sure you're not going to get in trouble with Yoongi? He's scary when mad."
Seokjin shrugs. "After all the times I've cleaned up after his lazy ass, I deserve something. He has no right to complain."
Namjoon laughs, and it's then that Seokjin notices the colorful earbuds switched out for a simple black stud, hair also gelled back. Seokjin almost feels self conscious in his simple jeans and tshirt, but Namjoon doesn't look like he cares at all. He looks like the epitome of frat boy, after all, in his tight black muscle shirt and faded dark blue jeans, accompanied by the ever-so douche chain hanging around his neck.
Seokjin had maybe sprayed two extra pumps of his cologne. "Well," he says, looking in the direction of what he thinks is the kitchen, "Are you gonna show me around or are we gonna stand at the door the whole time?"
"Oh, right," Namjoon says, flustered, "yes, come in! I'll give you a mini tour of the house. As much of a tour I can give you with drunk people everywhere. So, directly on the right is the kitchen, as you can see."
Seokjin follows his way through clusters of people, gradually pushing himself closer and closer to Namjoon until they're touching at the shoulders, and groans every time someone yells something drunkenly at Namjoon. He gets it, it's his party, he knows everyone, so Seokjin just has to stand it for now.
"Sorry," Namjoon wheezes after being pulled into a hug by one of the girls by the kitchen table. "That was Sojin, she's awesome. Also kind of magical."
Seokjin laughs as Namjoon leads them away. "Magical?"
"Magical. The only way you could describe someone who's doing mechanical engineering and has a 4.0 GPA, and parties every weekend. Sometimes during the week, too." They walk back where they came from and across the foir to the living room. There, Seokjin finds the kid from his Political Econ class making out with a girl on the couch, hand already down her pants. Namjoon coughs. "I'll go tell Youngjae to tell them off or something. Let's just go upstairs." He motions to Seokjin to walk by himself, and turns to yell something into the kitchen, and Seokjin barely manages to see a boy with blonde hair yell something back and walk towards the living room. "Sorry about that," Namjoon sighs. "House rules, we decided in the beginning of the year. Sexy times only in your rooms, and only people who live in the house can have sex in the house. In their rooms."
Seokjin doesn't see the need to know this rule -- party or not, a stranger shoving their hand down another stranger's pants in front of you is never exciting to look at. Or well, he guesses they're not really strangers, since they're at Namjoon's place.
"Alright, so, we have four people living in the house. We all have our own rooms, praise the lord. That one on the far left is Youngjae's, the one next to it is Taemin's, then is Jiho, and finally, on the right is my room. You can actually bring that to my room," Namjoon says, nodding his head towards the bottle in Seokjin's hand. "My room is usually where my friends sit and just chill."
Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "I thought you were the dancing kind of guy."
"See?" Namjoon says to himself, exasperated, "Everyone thinks that! I actually don't dance at all, I'm awful. I hate dancing anyway. Everyone assumes I like to dance." He opens the door to his room, which, surprisingly, turns out to be empty. "Do I really look like I dance?"
Seokjin shrugs. He just assumed that from his general pseudo-fratboy vibes. "You have a dancer body?" he tries.
"What's a dancer body?" Namjoon asks, grabbing the bottle of Fireball and placing it on the counter.
"I dunno," Seokjin admits. "Lean?"
Namjoon pouts. "And here I thought I was getting jacked from going to the gym so much. Gotta work harder. And hey, have a seat. You can just sit on my bed, or I can steal a chair from Taemin's room."
"Nah, it's fine," Seokjin says as Namjoon pulls out his phone to look at a text. "Your room is interesting."
Namjoon's room is much more plain than Seokjin expected it to be. It's got a desk, a drawer cabinet, and a bed. The wall has a few posters, a picture of Kendrick Lamar, a Star Trek poster, and a fake motivational poster that says, 'Simplicity: The simple solutions are often the cleverest. They're also probably wrong.' The picture in the poster is a right triangle asking to find x. It's circled, and next to it is written "here it is." Seokjin laughs at it, loud enough for Namjoon to look up from his phone in questioning until he sees where Seokjin's looking.
"Oh, that," he laughs. "Hoseok gave it to me in our freshman year. I actually did that on one of my exams. Got detention for it in high school."
"Detention?" Seokjin asks. "For circling an x?"
Namjoon grins. "Let's just say it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was a smartass in high school."
"You're still a smartass," Seokjin retorts.
"Wow," Namjoon says, holding his hands to his chest in mock hurt. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words cause psychological wounds that never heal."
Someone laughs from the door, and Seokjin and Namjoon look to see Hoseok and Hunchul standing at the doorway. "Jeez, overdramatic much. Don't worry Seokjin," Hunchul says. "Namjoon just has no chill."
"Compared to you?" Namjoon scoffs. "Get out of here."
"I brought shot glasses!" Hoseok says. "You can't kick me out. Also, Taehyung and Jimin just came, so we came to avoid the hot mess that is going to happen."
"Oh god," Namjoon groans, then turns to Seokjin. "Nothing good happens when Jimin's here. Do you know him?"
"Isn’t he your roommate?” Seokjin asks Hoseok. “I’ve heard some horror stories, but that’s it. Who is he exactly?"
"A menace," Hoseok says as he puts the shot glasses on Namjoon's desk. "That's who. That's when the party transitions from casual dancing and chatting to body shots and sex on the deck."
"Uh," Seokjin stares at Namjoon, who grins back at him. "Oh no?"
"I dunno," Namjoon casually says, "I'm feelin' a little wild tonight. Ready for shots?"
Seokjin didn't really know what he was expecting to see when he came to Namjoon's place, and he's still not really sure if he's surprised or not, but a new sense of nervousness bubbles up in his stomach and Hoseok pours out four shots and hands the small cup to Seokjin.
It's not that Seokjin hasn't drank before. He's 21, he's done his share fair of drinking. Maybe not as often as most people, but enough. It also helps that he's a natural born tank, so alcohol doesn't do much to him, except for that one time he drank two whole bottles of wine because his favorite character in one of the books he was reading died. But that's a different story.
The reason why his hand shakes (only a bit, he swears) as he gets ready to tip the glass back is because Namjoon is grinning at him expectantly, eyes twinkling as he counts, "three, two, one!", and they all drain their glasses.
The liquid burns as it usually does when it goes down Seokjin's throat, but it's not the worst thing in the world. The cinnamon makes it slightly more bearable, but next to him, Hunchul coughs and Hoseok blinks his eyes furiously.
"So much for sitting around and talking," Namjoon says wistfully, but Seokjin catches something not quite honest in his tone. Something short of playful, short of mischievous. "Another?"
Half an hour later, they're five drinks in, Seokjin's pouring himself a sixth because he just barely feels a slight fuzzy feeling in his head, but not enough. Namjoon is sitting on his bed and laughing at something Hoseok's just said, laughs hard enough to flop over onto his pillow clumsily.
"Seokjin," Hunchul says, "not that we've been the best example, but now's probably the time to slow down on the alcohol. I'm thinking of heading downstairs in a bit."
He shrugs. "This much is close to nothing to me, to be honest. I'll let you know when it gets there, though. You can stop me at eleven, if I really go all out."
"Eleven?" Hoseok asks incredulously. Namjoon stares at him from the bed, mouth agape. "How drunk are you trying to get?"
"Drunk?" Seokjin asks. "I'm not trying to get drunk. I'm alright with getting tipsy though."
"I see why Yoongi is your roommate now," Hunchul slurs, sitting up again. "The two tanks would live together."
Namjoon groans. "That's not fun. Come downstairs with me, I can grab some vodka in the freezer. I'll steal Youngjae's powerade, he owes me anyway."
Seokjin shrugs. He doesn't have anything else to do, and Hunchul and Hoseok wave them off with being tired and not wanting to deal with Jimin's madness. He's actually rather curious to see who this Jimin is and what impact he has. He has noticed a sudden increase in music volume, but figured that was just due to the alcohol, and thumping bass isn't exactly rare at house parties.
Namjoon stumbles when he gets on his feet, bumping lightly into Seokjin, and Seokjin grabs his arm to steady him. His skin is hot to the touch, compared to Seokjin's own, and Namjoon hisses at the contact. "Why are your hands so cold?" he asks. Seokjin shrugs.
They make their way to Youngjae's room, and Namjoon grabs two bottles of Powerade and then they make their way downstairs, and that's when Seokjin sees all the difference.
There's twice as many people as there was when he first came, all stuck together in a giant, sweaty human mess. Namjoon grabs onto Seokjin's wrist as he pulls him through the crowd, and Seokjin nearly screams when he sees someone lying down on the kitchen island, a few girls around.
"God dammit, Jimin," Namjoon yells, "get off the fucking table."
Oh. So this is Jimin. This Jimin person leans up, little drops of liquid running down his body, and Namjoon looks at Seokjin, and glowers at his widening eyes and open mouth, because he pushes Seokjin behind him and crosses his arms.
Jimin pretty much looks like he's what would happen if you took a Greek god and a fratboy and shoved them in a blender and then spit them out in Korea. His arms might be bigger than his head, and his abs definitely have more definition than any part of Seokjin at all. His jaw is probably as sharp as a blade, except his smile is blinding as he laughs.
"Namjoon! I was wondering when you'd come down. Who's that behind you?"
"Oh, this is Seokjin, the one I was talking to you about the other day. Seokjin, this is the infamous Jimin."
"You were right about the body shots," Seokjin laughs, stepping forward and taking Jimin's hand and shaking it.
Jimin shrugs. "I did it once, and then I was just suddenly known for it. Gotta stick with the image, you know?"
Seokjin nods, even though he definitely doesn't know.
"Anyway!" Jimin suddenly says, grinning at Namjoon and Seokjin, and Seokjin has a very bad feeling, "I know you both would love to drink beer off my body Namjoon, but I'm more about the girl life, so let's just grab the good stuff in the freezer I know you have."
As he walks off, Namjoon sighs. "Jimin's also aggressively heterosexual," he says. "Not that it affects me, but he's the one that wears basketball shorts in the snow."
Seokjin wrinkles his nose, and Namjoon laughs as Jimin comes back and he puts the bottles of Powerade on the table. The bottles opened and more glasses are poured, and soon Seokjin's got himself a nice mix of Powerade and three? four? shots of vodka. Namjoon's shaking his own concoction as they watch Jimin drain the rest of the Powerade bottle mixed with god who knows how much alcohol. "How much does he normally drink?"
"No idea," Namjoon says, "but he's a serial blackout-er. We usually end up having to tell him what happened and how many he went home with."
"That's uh... that's nice," Seokjin mumbles. Namjoon laughs, walking away from the kitchen.
"Let's leave that one to his own devices. I'll show you the basement where everyone's dancing."
"I'm not a dancer," Seokjin warns and they make their way down the stairs. Namjoon snorts and gives him a look in reply, and that's really all he needs, considering Namjoon.
Now the music is blaring in his ear, and Seokjin is reminded why he never goes out to parties. Namjoon says something to him, but he can't hear it over the bass of some indie rap song. "What?" he yells.
"It was a lot nicer before," Namjoon screams back. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
Seokjin watches as he takes a very, very long swig of his alcohol concoction thing. Seokjin wonders if he should too, and figures why not, he's just tipsy.
Namjoon's eyes are diluted, and he's not sure if it's because he's drunk or because it's pretty dark in the basement, but both are pretty good guesses. "Go dance," Seokjin says, as they move to the side, away from the speakers. "Since you're so good at it."
"Well, I mean, you said you were so much better, so why don't you show me how it's done?" Namjoon slurs, and Seokjin casually -- or as casually as he can -- takes the bottle from Namjoon.
"I said no such thing." He knows how this game is played. There have been other instances of people trying to get Seokjin to dance with them the same way. He wonders how bad Namjoon's beer goggles are.
Seokjin really just wants to maybe go back upstairs and chat meaninglessly for an hour or two. Or three.
It turns out that he doesn't have to stall any longer because Hoseok and Jimin come hollering down the stairs, barreling into Namjoon and knocking the wind out of him. Seokjin takes the chance to make sure the coast is clear and then toss the plastic bottle over his shoulder. They'll find it tomorrow.
"I think this is my cue to leave," he says to himself, after Namjoon gets carried away in the wave. The last thing he wants to do is dance, so he makes his way back up the stairs and into the kitchen, then back out again, because Jimin has at least four girls around him and that's pretty weird.
Upstairs it is. Namjoon's room was the one all the way on the right, he tells himself, and walks in, collapsing on the bed.
NEXT