Chapter Text
“Oh, Yoongi just texted me. They’ll be here soon.”
Jimin stifles an embarrassing lovesick smile, staring at the message on his phone screen like it’s the gospel. Jeongguk nudges him with a smirk, seated next to him at the cafe. The cloudless morning sky promises a beautiful day ahead, and basking in the weather and the presence of friends, Taehyung and Seokjin sit with muted amusement and watch as Jimin and Jeongguk bicker.
“You guys are texting buddies now, huh?” Jeongguk keeps shoving a blushing Jimin with his shoulder.
“Whatever, it’s nothing, it’s whatever, whatever!” Jimin shoves Jeongguk back, hard. “Stop it!”
“Woah, I was just teasing you…”
Seokjin and Taehyung, seated across them, decide it’s time to play Switzerland and come between them before it escalates any further. Thankfully, the two children are distracted by the arrival of Namjoon and his posse, overdressed in full suits despite it being a mere coffee date. Jimin stands up a little awkwardly, extremely uncharacteristic for such a natural flirt, and smiles silently at Yoongi, who glides to the chair next to Jimin’s.
“Hey baby,” Namjoon goes over to Seokjin and kisses the top of his head before plopping into the seat. “So this is the cafe that lives in infamy?”
“Oh yeah. Welcome to the headquarters of the Seoul Twink Club. Headed by yours truly.”
Hoseok surveys the area quietly. “Yeah, it’s definitely a gay cafe,” he says eventually. “It’s a gay cafe for sure.”
“We can't stay for very long, we have to head to work soon,” Namjoon explains, noticing Seokjin's amusement at their outfits. All three members of Namjoon's gang stand out, decked out in head-to-toe three-piece suits, versus the four others in breezy summery clothes. Even Seokjin, who was heading to teach later, was in a thin button up and bermudas. “Thanks for the invite.”
“I thought it might be fun,” Seokjin says, but there's a seed of regret gestating in his heart now as he overhears Jeongguk and Yoongi engaged in a conversation of questionable intent.
“I'm pretty sure Seokjin tops Namjoon sometimes,” Yoongi is saying, while Jeongguk shakes his head frantically, seemingly in passionate disagreement.
“Nope, it is a truth universally acknowledged that Seokjin needs it up the ass.”
Yeah, there's definitely some regret.
Seokjin waves over the waiter, who has already prepared the usuals of the four who had first arrived, and subsequently takes the order of the newcomers. As he walks off, Hoseok raises a brow at the group. “Is it just me, or was that sweet boy totally checking me out?”
“Hoseok, you think everyone is checking you out.”
Taehyung pipes up, “Everyone probably is. He's very handsome.” Jeongguk shoots him a pouty look of jealousy, but Hoseok’s ego has already been inflated now, it's too late.
“Aw, sweetheart, you'll make me blush!” He reaches across the table and pinches Tae's cheeks, and Jeongguk's right eye starts twitching.
The gestating seed of regret is blooming nicely into a flower of regret.
As the conversation flows along, and stories of their weeks are being shared, Seokjin looks over at Namjoon fondly. His dimples are on full display, his skin tanned and just begging to be kissed, glowing under the morning sun. “Pretty,” he says simply, doing just that and pecking Namjoon’s cheek.
Flustered, he only looks at Seokjin with creased eyes, smiling. It's absolute mayhem at the table, but they might as well be the only two people in the whole world right now.
“You guys are sickening.”
Yoongi's voice breaks their reverie.
“Truly, it's a wonder how you two are, like, Seoul's Hottest Couple or whatever,” Jeongguk says, sticking a finger into his mouth, invoking the picturesque tableau of a barf. “More like Seoul’s Grossest Couple.”
“Oh, you guys should've seen them at last weekend's launch party. It was a riot.” Hoseok sips his espresso, reminiscing. “Ah, man.”
“Is it time for another fun story!” Taehyung clap, his deep voice contradicting the childlike excitement in his tone. “I love Seokjin-hyung’s stories.”
“Me too,” Namjoon concedes. “Tell the story, Jin.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, swallowing his mouthful of muffin. He suppresses a giggle at the sight of the six boys staring at him, waiting open-mouthed.
“Ok, so basically— Everything was going peachy up until Namjoon's father arrived.”
-
Mr Kim burst into the room flanked by what seemed like a dozen staff members and security personnel.
Along with Mr Kim, burst into Seokjin's consciousness the stark reality of that precise moment in time, the exact enormity of this moment's significance in his life. In that precise moment of time in Seokjin's life, he became painfully aware of who he was. He looked around at the unfamiliar faces, at the way everyone was standing at attention as if Namjoon’s father was Jesus himself who descended for the rapture, and he began to feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t belong there. He didn’t belong in this world. He didn’t belong in this 3 million won gown, in this fancy ballroom… with this perfect specimen of a man.
But then Namjoon took his hand, and he remembered what they had promised each other earlier that night at Namjoon’s house.
I'm saying it because I want you to know that no matter what happens in there tonight, I love you. I'm in love with you. It doesn’t matter what they say.
Their eyes met. Namjoon’s were unexpectedly calm. They weren’t resigned, he hadn’t given up— they were alight with love, with reverence. With an epiphany of some sort. He mouthed, with those plump lips blessed upon him by some God from above, “It doesn’t matter what he says.” He took Seokjin’s hand and kissed it, and they started towards Namjoon’s father with confident strides, in lockstep. Mr Kim stood overlooking the party, which had slowly started to wind back into motion after the brief pause at his arrival.
“Dad,” Namjoon said monotonously, considering that greeting enough. Seokjin wished he could’ve said that Namjoon got his height from his mother, but upon assessment, he could tell that Namjoon’s father was about Namjoon’s height, so their staring content of intimidation gave neither of them a peculiar advantage.
“Son,” he responded just as briskly, eyes flickering over to Seokjin. “Ah, yes, I heard you brought your little boyfriend. Or can I even call you that? Boy?” His voice was nasally and harsh, like furniture dragging against hardwood floor. It made Seokjin’s skin crawl. His skin appeared to be artificially tightened, like he’d gotten nips and tucks. Seokjin had to bite back a look of disgust that threatened to appear on his face.
Wow, he really doesn’t beat around the bush. “Yep, boy is fine, sir. Or, you know, ‘man’.” Seokjin consciously reminded himself to keep his chin up, not let his eye contact waver from Mr Kim’s.
“He’s a feisty one,” he condescended to a scowling Namjoon, who rolled his eyes.
After a deep breath, he wrapped an arm around Jin’s waist. “This feisty one is Kim Seokjin. Jin, dad; Dad, Jin.”
Seokjin bowed politely. Mr Kim did not return the favour. He didn’t even offer a handshake. Instead, he issued an expected but still-scathing remark. “Don’t take him to company events next time, Namjoon. It’s not a good look for our brand.”
Namjoon just directed his attention at his feet and gave a dangerously dark chuckle. “Shit, dad. You’re unbelievable.”
The thick tension is sliced by Hoseok, who placed a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder as he greeted Mr Kim. “Boss! How was the flight?”
“Long.”
“Cool, cool.”
The four of them looked at each other expectantly, waiting for someone to break the silence, waiting to Hoseok to explain the reason for his (welcome) disruption.
“...Anyway, didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to show you that the paparazzi got us trending on Twitter.” Hoseok held out his phone so the three of them could see it, and there it was, a photo of Seokjin at the red carpet leading into the ballroom. He was smiling widely, looking hilariously unbothered considering the tsunami of anxiety that he had been experiencing at the captured moment, and the slit of his dress was doing its job satisfactorily, showing off his toned thigh. “Apparently, Kim Seokjin is the new hashtag King of Hyundai.”
Seokjin's mouth fell open in full-bodied laughter as he doubled over, clutching his stomach as he guffawed. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed between cackles, “I’m a car gay! A heretofore undiscovered type of gay!”
Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh along, relishing the wide eyes of shock of his father. “A bad look for the brand, huh, Dad? Gay people buy cars too, did you know that?” Namjoon said with bitter amusement, taking Seokjin’s hand.
Namjoon’s father’s face softened suddenly, and he held a hand out towards Seokjin, reaching for a handshake. Seokjin could almost envision that caricatural dollar signs appearing in place of his pupils as he says, “Guess you could be useful for the brand after all.”
The dam broke. “God, you’re slimy. Is that really all you fucking care about? Not the happiness of your own goddamn son?”
Right after the words exited Seokjin’s mouth, he clasped a hand over it, as if he couldn’t believe he had said that.
“Sir,” he tacts on.
It was Namjoon’s turn to laugh now, and he did, snickering with sadistic pleasure at the look of anger that surfaces on his dad’s face.
“Enjoy the party, dad,” Namjoon managed finally, pulling Seokjin towards the door. “I’m glad you like Seokjin. I really, really do, but we’re leaving now. We’ve done what we came to do.”
“Real nice to meet you, Mr Kim!” Seokjin added, and they were both laughing so hard, and nobody understood why but it didn’t matter, and everybody was staring but it didn’t matter, and Namjoon’s dad was gazing dumbfounded after them, but it didn’t matter.
And he’d met Namjoon's father, but it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter, because Namjoon loved him, and he fucking loved Kim Namjoon.
-
They rode the high of their moral victory over Namjoon’s dad for the whole car ride home, Seokjin kissing the living shit out of Namjoon, continuing to tease him through his pants. It was all tongue and spit and sweet-smelling lipgloss smeared all over Namjoon’s mouth, Namjoon’s voice telling him in explicit detail exactly how he was going to fuck Seokjin over his desk when they got home, and the poor limo driver— he must’ve heard Seokjin’s moan at that, even with the partition up.
Once in the flat, they both headed to his office silently, in a rush, despite having all the time in the world. Seokjin watched, his aching erection throbbing in his flimsy panties as Namjoon did that thing that every warm-blooded human fantasises about— he swept all the papers off his desk and onto the floor, before turning and picking Seokjin up, tossing him carelessly onto it and connecting their lips again.
“Spread your legs,” Namjoon demanded, pulling the hem of Seokjin’s excessively expensive dress up and pushing his thighs apart, grabbing Seokjin’s ass and aligning their pelvises. “Open.”
“Ah, so this is one of those nights, then,” Seokjin murmured breathily as Namjoon’s tongue lapped at his ear, rendering Seokjin a shivery mess.
“One of what nights, baby?”
“Those nights— the nights when you’re in charge. When you’re a bossy asshole.”
Namjoon pulled away then, to look at his masterpiece. Seokjin was red in the face, lips wet and pink. “Language, baby,” he ordered, walking to the other side of the desk, behind Seokjin. “Though I’m glad you know what you’re in for. Looking so fucking delectable like that.”
Seokjin didn’t dare turn around, only shuddering when Namjoon’s lips found the back of his neck. His hands wrapped around his waist, as if giving him an innocent backhug, but then one of his hands travels down towards his bulge, massaging it through his dress, and the other travels up to lightly tracing Seokjin’s throat. “My baby’s so hard already,” growled Namjoon and fuck, Seokjin just wanted to disappear into the depths of his voice. He whimpered meekly, so turned on that he was starting to ache, getting lost in Namjoon’s web of desire.
From behind him, Namjoon examined his blissed out face as his hands trailed under his hem, pulling it up to expose his red panties. “Look at you…” he murmurs, palming him. “You’re so pretty, baby.” The reduced number of layers between Namjoon’s skin and his was welcome, but decidedly not enough. He bucked upwards into Namjoon’s hand, desperate for more. It might just be the hottest thing Namjoon had ever seen, Seokjin grinding himself against Namjoon’s hand.
The hand that wasn’t teasing him through his panties was tangled in Seokjin’s hair, pulling it back to force Seokjin’s face to be visible to Namjoon, who watched his expressions of pleasure, entranced. Once in a while, if Namjoon thumbled the head of his cock just right, Seokjin’s eyes would flutter open to reveal his eyes which were rolling back into his head, and when he reached underneath his lace, his lips trembled and were bitten to mask a moan. It was utterly hypnotic, painfully erotic to watch.
“Namjoonie…” he choked out, “Can you look at me while you fuck me?” He sounded so broken and desperate and Namjoon was proud of him for communicating what he desired— and frankly, who was he to deny Kim Seokjin what he desired?
“Of course, my love.”
He traversed the perimeter of the desk, and on the other side, took Seokjin’s face in his hands and kissed him tenderly. “You were so amazing tonight, baby. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
Seokjin’s ears began to redden— Namjoon knew now that Seokkjin’s ears didn’t go red when they were having sex, but they did turn red at flattery. He didn’t yet fully comprehend the complexity of Seokjin’s ears and their rules. He was thrilled at the prospect that one day, he would.
“Babe, stop being sweet and insert your fat cock into me, please.”
“Jesus.”
“I’m needy.”
Namjoon got on his knees so that his face was aligned with the top of the desk. He hooked his fingers into Seokjin’s panties and tugged them past his feet. Seokjin in that dress with nothing underneath was an image that Namjoon wouldn’t mind nailed to the back of his coffin. “Hold your knees for me?”
Seokjin did just that, exposing his entrance to Namjoon who opened the desk drawer to retrieve a small bottle of lube. Pushing aside the latent curiosity as to why Namjoon would keep lube in his office, he let his eyes fall shut as two of Namjoon’s slick fingers traveled past his sensitive ring of muscle. He hummed in quiet pleasure, as his ever-attentive lover kissed his warm inner thighs.
While Namjoon fucked him, he held their foreheads together, one on the back of Seokjin’s head and one guiding his ass towards him, looking into each other’s eyes, catching each other’s moans into their own mouths like it was fuel. Seokjin didn’t know how in the world Namjoon’s knees weren’t wobbling, because his felt like jelly and he wasn’t even standing up. But all Namjoon could think about was making Seokjin feel good, making him feel like the magical, mystical angel he was, using his ass as leverage to fuck deeper into him, hit the right spot with every single thrust.
“You like that?” Namjoon grunted, finally picking up the pace from the leisurely, languid thrusts he’d previously been doing.
“Harder,” Seokjin cried out, holding Namjoon’s shoulders and meeting him halfway, lifting his hips up. “Faster, deeper, more—”
And who was Namjoon to deny Kim Seokjin?
He drove his cock into Seokjin’s tightness, eliciting a high-pitched cry with every plunge of his hips, and every time Seokjin’s eyes squeezed shut, he commanded him to reopen them because he wanted to see— wanted to watch as Kim Seokjin came apart in his arms. “Come inside me,” Seokjin shrieks, “Fuck, Namjoon—”
“I love you,” Namjoon moaned, lips crashing into Seokjin’s messily. “Seokjin, I love you—”
And in that moment, as they came together, shuddering their professions of love to each other, they truly believed that no two people had ever felt closer.
-
Of course, while retelling the story at the cafe, he omits all the raunchy sex bits. Though, it certainly doesn’t hurt to reminisce.
“So, yeah. I made Hyundai gay again and I cemented Namjoon’s dad’s hatred for me for, oh, the rest of measurable time. That’s basically the story.”
“Yeah, but I bet you guys had the most insane sex that night,” Jimin sighs dreamily, and Yoongi almost chokes on his iced Americano.
“No comment,” Namjoon tilts his head upon reconsideration. “Actually, yes comment. We did.”
Hoseok whoops, while Taehyung looks over at Jeongguk excitedly, smiling a boxy smile. “You guys want to hear about that? I'm a pretty good smutty storyteller too,” jests Jin to a mixed audience— a half-half split of frantic nodding and equally frantic head shaking.
They laugh. It's a beautiful cloudless summer morning spent with very unlikely friends and Seokjin’s hand is enclosed in Namjoon's, and really it's too hot to be holding hands, but he doesn't want it any other way.
-
The rather rag-tag bunch has scattered in different directions, promising to meet up for drinks soon, and Seokjin and Namjoon’s pinkies are interlocked as they stroll idly towards the bus stop where Seokjin would set off for work. “Lives intertwining. Crazy,” Namjoon thinks aloud.
“A little,” Seokjin chuckles. “Surreal more than crazy.”
“Guess I never thought I’d find someone I'd actually want to share my life with.”
They reach the bus stop, and Seokjin takes Namjoon's other hand, intertwining their fingers as their arms hang slack between them. “You're gross sometimes.”
“At some point you're going to have to stop calling me gross when I’m trying to be sweet.” Namjoon leans in, lips a millimetre from Seokjin's. Seokjin is alight with anticipation, and the tips of their noses touch gently.
“Never,” he promises, a whisper, knowing he'll break it one day.
“Well then, I’ll never get used to you in the daylight,” murmurs Namjoon mindlessly.
Guess he's going to break it now. “I love you, baby,” Seokjin says in place of a thank you, looking down at where their hands are connected. He wishes the bus would never come, that they could stay like this forever. “Remember when we first met? I thought you weren't real."
"Maybe I'm not."
"No, you're real. You're the most real thing there is."
He holds Namjoon's hands up to his lips and kisses the tip of each of his fingers, his eyes shut. When he opens them, Namjoon has that look in his eyes, that previously unreadable look, but Seokjin knows exactly what it means now. He can't believe he never saw it before. I love you too.
His bus approaches, and an impassioned Namjoon kisses Seokjin with force, fervid and hot on his lips.
"I had a lovely twenty minutes with you, Namjoon," Seokjin murmurs against his mouth, "Have a nice day, baby."