Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Hoseok met Kim Namjoon he was punched in the face.

And yeah, it was just an accident but that didn’t stop it hurting like hell. The fact that Yoongi was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, whilst there was blood running down his face didn’t help in the slightest. Sometimes he wondered if his best friend was actually a malicious gremlin that inhabited the human realm purely to take pleasure out of other people’s misfortunes. Then again, that might just be Taehyung’s conspiracy theories rubbing off on him.

Speaking of Taehyung. If Hoseok were looking for someone to blame other than the actual perpetrator – who for reasons we shall come to later he was indeed wholly unwilling to blame – his first port of call would definitely be Taehyung. Again, spurred on by the lack of sympathy the younger was exhibiting towards him.

His pain really wasn’t all that funny.

Hoseok had always hoped that he would meet the love of his life in a suitably romantic way; maybe sharing an umbrella in the rain, maybe waiting for the last bus late at night, maybe in a dance class. Sure, it would probably be something more mundane – a work colleague, a friend of a friend, even internet dating – but he liked to dream.

As it turned out – though of course he didn’t know it at the time – instead of the perfect meet-cute, as they say in fanfiction (not that he read that kind of thing… that often), he got a meet-ugly. Namely, being punched in the face.

It had all started, as these things often do, when Yoongi had dragged him to the café nearest to campus for his hourly shot of caffeine. Having placed their orders, they were milling about looking for a seat when they spotted Taehyung in one corner engaged in what looked like a heated debate with a tall student who had his back to them.

“Ah, Taehyung… What a delight on a Monday morning,” Yoongi said sarcastically when he noticed them.

“Who’s that with him?” Hoseok asked, wary of going to sit down with them despite that being the only free space. You never knew what you were getting in for with Taehyung.

“It’s Namjoon,” Yoongi answered with a resigned sigh, “The guy I was going to introduce you to, in fact.”

“Your music friend?” He asks.

“Hmm, yeah, guess that’s where we’re sitting then. Fair warning, if you think Taehyung is bad, Namjoon is… well you’ll see.”

This ominous warning in mind, Hoseok walked over to the table, careful not to spill any of his precious coffee on his way. Once he got within earshot, the subject of the debate became clear and he understood what the elder had meant.

“Look, the existence of alien life is a statistical certainty!” Taehyung argued, face set into the perfect picture of stubborn determination, “There are an infinite number of planets in the universe, so by definition there have to be ones capable of supporting sentient life! It’s purely a case of numbers!”

“I don’t think the infinite nature of the universe proves anything,” Namjoon refuted, “Your reasoning is flawed! There may be infinite planets but infinite does not mean that every possible outcome will occur – there could be an infinite number of earths, but there could just as easily be an infinite number of barren planets completely devoid of life, let alone sentient life!”

“What about the Drake equation? That calculates the number of alien species through a series of fractions: the average rate of star formations, the fraction of stars that have planets, the fraction of those planets that can support life, the fraction of those that produce intelligent life and so on. Since there are an infinite number of stars, even if that final fraction is infinitesimal it will result in an infinite number of possibly civilisations! And thus aliens! I rest my case.”

“No, no!” Namjoon shook his head fiercely, “Because you see, for a start the Drake equation is only a measure of estimating the number of active and communicative extra-terrestrial civilisations within our galaxy, where numbers are at billions rather than infinity! A measurement not a proof anyway! More importantly, it actually leads to the Fermi Paradox, which disproves the existence of aliens, since it shows that if aliens did exist within our galaxy then they should have visited earth by now! And since there are no signs of such a thing having happened, they don’t exist!”

“Well, it’s perfectly possible that aliens from civilisations more technologically advanced than ours have visited, leaving only signs that aren’t detectable by us and our technology!”

“Possible, I agree, but extremely unlikely!” Namjoon was getting more and more carried away, somehow managing to be deeply passionate about a topic that most sane people didn’t give much thought to either way, “After all, that would imply that they didn’t want to be noticed and thus didn’t reveal themselves – which could happen for some visits, true, but for all the visits theorised by the Drake Equation? Too unlikely!”

“Unless they’re part of a federation of some kind that restricts contact with civilisations before a certain level of advancement!”

“Now you’re just referencing Star Trek, which as a piece of science fiction created by humans is unlikely to mirror real life eventualities. Yes, all of these are theoretical possibilities, but there are so many conditional probabilities involved that it becomes extremely unlikely – and before you repeat your argument about the infinite number of planets, infinity times an infinitesimal does not necessarily result in infinity! Sometimes it results in a finite number, say one, and sometimes even in zero! So –”

It was at this point – so caught up in the argument that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings or taking any consideration for the cramped conditions of the café – that Namjoon managed to punch Hoseok, one flailing limb connecting with his face with an audible crunch.

For a moment, there was shocked silence, as Namjoon whipped round with a horrified expression and Hoseok clutched his nose and tried to come to terms with the sudden pain blossoming in his face. It seemed like the whole café had gone silent and was staring at them. And then both Yoongi and Taehyung exploded in fits of laughter, both unsympathetic cackles and full out, hysterical wheezing, and the spell was broken.

Namjoon immediately stood up and started bowing, launching into a barely coherent mess of apologies and panicked rambling, “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t realise you were behind me! I’m such an idiot, I wasn’t paying attention – are you ok? Of course you’re not, I just punched you, Christ – I really didn’t mean to do that, I’m just so clumsy, I break things all the time – but not usually people! I mean, I hope I haven’t broken anything… are you bleeding? Oh god you are, you’re bleeding, shit, ok, ok, let me – here!”

Namjoon grabbed a wad of napkins from the table, stockpiled in case of the disasters he was clearly expecting, and waved them in front of Hoseok, urgently pushing them closer until he accepted them. They were at least sufficient to halt the blood flow, which was threatening to drip off his chin onto his favourite jacket.

“Don’t tip your head back, that’s what they always do on TV but it’s not safe – you could choke on the blood. But I’m sure you’re not going to! Just hold these to your nose, you’ll be fine. Not to undermine what you’re going through! I’m sure it hurts a tonne – I’ve hurt myself enough times to know. Would you believe I’ve actually run into two lamp posts already this month? Ok that’s not relevant. Pain, right – do you need a painkiller? I think I have some aspirin in my bag, let me just look,” He dived to the floor to start rifling through his bag, coming up a few moments later with a handful of medication, “Ok, why don’t you sit down, here have my seat, and take these – I have Aspirin and Ibuprofen, oh and some Codine, but that’s pretty strong, you probably don’t want to take that – I mean you can of course if you want, but it can make you sleepy, so… how is it? Is it broken? Are you going to go to hospital? Should I –”

“Namjoon, stop panicking,” Yoongi interrupted, having finally overcome his laughing fit. What a great friend. “He’s fine,”

“Dat’s very well for ‘oo to say,” Hoseok snapped, voice distorted by the hand clamped over his nose.

“Oh, hyung I didn’t see you there!” Namjoon said, turning to him

“No of course you didn’t,” He sighed. “Classic Namjoon.”

“Are you ok?” Namjoon asked Hoseok, and the look of anguish on his face was sufficiently pained for him to forgive him instantly. It may have helped that he was also stunningly attractive; long legs, purple hair and the face of a god.

“’M fine,” He nodded, wincing as he jostled his nose, “S’not brok’n,”

“Oh thank god,” He let out a sigh of relief and slumped down in the chair next to him, “Look, I’m still really sorry though – it’s totally my fault. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Could I buy you some coffee?”

Hoseok raised the hand still gripping his cup of coffee – miraculously, none of it had spilt – to indicate that he already had some.

“Oh, ok, well um… I could pay you back for your coffee? Or – or I could buy you more coffee some other time? Or tea, if you’d prefer! Or like a meal…um.”

“Hyung, are you asking him out on a date before you even know his name?” Taehyung teased him, cutting through his awkward rambling with an obnoxious wink.

“Wha – oh of course! I'm sorry, I'm Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you!"

“Of course that’s the bit he picks up on,” Yoongi muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “And his name’s Jung Hoseok, since I’m sure his nose will mangle the words.”

“Fuck’ff” He slurred angrily at him.

“Wait, Hoseok?” Namjoon asked, eyes suddenly wide with excitement, “The Jung Hoseok?”

“I guess…” Hoseok answered, frowning. What did he mean the Jung Hoseok?

"You write for the student newspaper right?"

“Yeah, that’s Hoseok,” Yoongi nodded.

“Joon hyung is obsessed with your articles you know,” Taehyung smirked.

“Really?” Hoseok was taken aback. He had only joined the newspaper because as a literature student it was the obvious extracurricular choice (and he got extra credit for it…), though he was a lot more involved now that he had ever expected to be. He knew he was pretty good at it, as student journalists went, but he’d never have thought people actually liked his articles enough to read the byline.

“Your article about the President’s impeachment was brilliant,” Namjoon beamed, dimples appearing on his cheeks that were so perfect that Hoseok short-circuited for a moment, unable to take in his words.

 “Oh… thanks,” He managed to force out, feeling oddly touched by the sentiment.

 “I especially admired the section about the increasing importance of participation in politics! It was the first compelling argument I’ve read about how we have to get more involved in order to improve the system, rather than just becoming disillusioned and distancing ourselves from it. I thought that was very inspiring! And –”

“That’s enough Joon,” Yoongi poked him, “No need to bombard the guy.”

“Right, sorry,” He blushed with embarrassment, suddenly shy, “I just get carried away.”

There was something oddly endearing about the excited gleam in his eye, something appealing about the passion with which he argued his case – even when the subject was something as unconventional as extra-terrestrial life – that just sucked Hoseok in. He had this wonderfully earnest quality about him where you could tell he cared deeply about everything he talked about.

It was only when he was walking home to get an ice pack that he realised what had happened. He’d fallen in love.

~

The second time Hoseok met Namjoon it was at a rap battle. And whilst he didn’t get punched, it certainly felt like it.

The venue left a lot to be desired; a dingy, overcrowded club in a basement somewhere that smelt overwhelmingly of drunk people and sweat. When Yoongi told him they were going to an underground rap battle, he hadn’t expected it to be literally underground. But judging by the crowd, the seedy atmosphere hadn’t done much to put people off coming.

To be honest, Hoseok was pretty excited. He had heard his hyung rap before of course – he was one of the privileged few who got to listen to his tracks while they were still a work in progress – but he knew that seeing him perform would be an entirely different experience.

Also, Yoongi had casually mentioned that Namjoon would be there too, carefully waiting for his reaction in a way that suggested his immediate infatuation with the younger had not gone unnoticed. He thought he did a pretty good job of pretending mild interest, even going so far as to make a joke about hoping his nose made it through the night. (FYI, it still hurt). On the inside, however, he was secretly thrilled to be meeting the man again.

Hoseok had given quite a bit of thought to Namjoon over the past week… actually that was all he could think about. He could barely pay attention in lectures because he was so busy daydreaming about the man and his wonderful long legs. He pored over every minute of their interaction, every second, and could not find a single thing he did not love about the younger. Even the punch somehow gave him cause to smile, for it had only happened due to how deeply engrossed in the conversation he was, how truly excited to be explaining his ideas.

It was stupid, he knew, how fast he had fallen – they had talked for less than ten minutes for god’s sake – but he had always been that way. His crushes came and went like autumn squalls, brief but passionate, and more often than not they ended in friendship rather than anything else. Some of his closest friends had originally been people he had thought he loved (though he did love them, just in a different way) – Seokjin for example and even, though he shuddered to think of it now, Taehyung. Then again, everyone fell in love with Jin the first time they saw him, Taehyung too, though he tended to ruin it by opening his mouth.

Hoseok felt like there was something different about Namjoon, something more. (Though Yoongi would say he thought that about all his crushes.)

“Here, drink this,” Yoongi said, reappearing with two plastic cups of beer.

“That sounded like an order. Are you trying to get me drunk?” Hoseok teased.

“It doesn’t taste quite so fowl when you’re drunk,” He deadpanned, destroying what little faith he had left in the beverage.

“You know what, I’m good.”

“Whatever,” Yoongi shrugged, “You’re going to get enough of it spilled on you by the end of the evening.”

“Great,” Hoseok sighed. “Where are the others?”

“Taehyung is screaming somewhere,” Yoongi said. This was no doubt an accurate guess. “Jimin is with him and Jungkook is still trying to convince the barman slash Jin that he’s old enough to drink.”

“I imagine in a place like this he’d have better luck with the barman…” He snorted, “Actually scratch that, he’ll always have better luck with the barman. Jin would rather let him starve than let him drink!”

“Mind you this beer is so shit I wonder if it even has any alcohol content.”

“Why do you drink the stuff if you hate it so much?”

“Good question,” Yoongi smirked, “But here’s a better one. When are you going to ask me about Namjoon?”

“Namjoon?” Hoseok did his best to remain nonchalant.

“Yeah, aren’t you wondering where he is?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge. As usual, his hyung saw right through him.

“Oh right, you didn’t say,” He nodded, unwilling to concede any ground even though he’d technically already lost.

Yoongi fixed him with a calculating stare, waiting for him to show signs of cracking and then clearly decided it wasn’t worth his time, “He’s backstage.”

“Backstage?”

“Yeah he’s performing too.”

“Oh cool,” Hoseok paused, “Wait. He’s performing?”

But Yoongi had somehow disappeared into the crowd, leaving him with that bombshell to deal with. Determined to find out more, Hoseok bravely elbowed his way to the front, predictably getting beer splashed on him and bumping into at least one semi-undressed couple – he was doing his best not to look. When he finally made it, he was attacked in a pincer movement by a drunk Jimin on one side and an even drunker and louder Taehyung on the other. They came in a pair, those two, rarely one without the other.

“Hyung! You came!” Jimin slurred, clinging to Hoseok’s arm and smiling so brightly his eyes disappeared into little crescents.

“Of course he came, his new crush is here!” Taehyung snickered and the two of them descended into fits of giggles.

Hoseok didn’t bother rebuking the younger, he knew he could never win, and just waited for the high pitched noises to cease.

“How are you two already so drunk? This only started like half an hour ago,”

“Taehyungie and I pre-gamed a little,” Jimin explained.

“Of course you did,” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Did you know RM is performing tonight?” Taehyung said in a very loud stage whisper.

“RM?” Hoseok asked, already excited. If there was one sound-cloud he listened to more than Yoongi’s, it was RM’s hands down. He just couldn’t get enough of the man’s music, the way he could change from smooth, almost melodic rapping to a rapid fire growl with one breath, the beat perfectly supporting that powerful voice. The lyrics were amazing too, always clever and frequently inspiring, such that he could listen again and again and hear new things each time. It would be amazing to hear the songs live.

“Yeah, he’s just after Yoongi,” Jimin chimed in.

“Awesome,” Hoseok grinned.

“Shhhhh!” Taehyung hushed him in a much louder voice, trying to put a sticky hand over his mouth, “It’s about to start!”

There had been a couple of acts already, just newcomers to warm up the crowd, music to dance to rather than to stand and listen, but now the big names were coming out, and everyone began to rush forward to get closer to the stage. It was rather like being on a tightly packed tube in the rush hour, certainly just as sweaty.

Hoseok had only really gone to support Yoongi, now that his mixtape was finally finished and he was presenting a couple of the songs from it – but he would be perfectly willing to admit that he got drawn in from the first rapper to walk on stage. It was just too easy to get lost in the music, to dance along to the rhythm and scream and cheer with the rest of the crowd. Otherwise you were liable to be carried away in the current.

By the time his hyung’s act was due to begin, Hoseok’s voice was hoarse and he was dripping in sweat, his jacket tied around his waist and hair pushed back off his forehead. A few tracks back Seokjin and Jungkook had joined the three of them and were now jumping up and down and whooping with just as much enthusiasm.

He was almost distracted enough to not think about Namjoon. Almost being the keyword here, since he was constantly wondering when he would perform and what it would be like. With every new performer, he felt a flash of disappointment that it wasn’t him. But then backing track began and he had no choice – literally no choice, his hyung was that captivating – but to focus on Yoongi.

His performance was just as thrilling an experience as Hoseok had suspected: killer lyrics spat out to a beat that seemed to vibrate through his very bones. The songs sounded completely different to when he’d heard them in the elder’s studio on campus; they came to life so much more. He barely moved from the lone microphone stand in the middle, but his stage presence was overwhelming.

Yoongi finished with a mic drop that Hoseok strongly suspected wasn’t sanctioned, since it couldn’t do much for the machine, but no one was about to complain. The crowd was going wild, producing more noise than for the past few acts put together – or so it seemed. His ear drums felt like they were about to pop.

And then RM walked on stage, backwards cap pushing the hair back of his gorgeous face and exuding confidence with a dimpled smile that did things to Hoseok’s guts and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, and all the sounds of the crowd faded away, like a spotlight had been shone on the man and that was the only thing in the whole world he could focus on. Because it was Kim Namjoon. Kim frigging Namjoon.

Hoseok was dimly aware of Taehyung snickering beside him and he realised that the little shit had possessed this vital information all along and had neglected to divulge it to him. If his heart wasn’t quite so buoyed by the excitement, he was sure it would be sinking at the prospect of being brutally mocked later on.

The opening beats of ‘Do You’ began to blast out of the speakers and Hoseok was gone. He couldn’t tell you much about what happened in the fifteen or so minutes of Namjoon’s set, couldn’t possibly find the words to express quite how he felt about it. Life-changing experience, revelation and spiritual awakening all came close, but somehow still seemed lacking.

All he knew was that he was even more in love than before.

Hoseok barely focussed on the last couple of acts of the night, just stood there with his mouth agape as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened. He just couldn’t believe that this was RM. This mess of a human who seemed about as threatening – intentionally anyway – as a puppy that hadn’t grown into its limbs yet. Of course, he couldn’t doubt it after seeing that powerful performance, a different side of the younger he never would have expected from their first meeting, but still, he was blown away.

“Earth to Hoseok,” Yoongi drawled, suddenly at his side and pressing a cup into his hands. Without thinking he took a sip and then almost choked.

“Oh god, you’re right that’s foul,” He grimaced, “Why would you inflict that on me?”

“To get your attention,” Yoongi shrugged, uncaring as ever. “So… enjoy the show?”

“Yeah, you were amazing hyung!” He congratulated him, smiling widely. “Everyone loved you.”

“And RM?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, failing to suppress his amusement.

“You snake!” He hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought it would be funny,” Yoongi smirked, “And I was totally right. You should have seen the look on your face!”

“I thought he was gonna get hard right there and then,” Taehyung chimed in like the helpful little brat that he was, popping out of the crowd just to deliver this, the latest example of his blatant disrespect for his elders, before disappearing again.

“Seconded,” Yoongi agreed.

“Hyung!” Hoseok protested, face going red. To be honest, he had thought the same, but he wasn’t going to let either of them know.

“Oh here he comes,” He said, completely unfazed by the younger’s embarrassment. “Hey Namjoon!”

“What? Wait! I’m not –” ready was what he was going to say, but then Namjoon was standing right in front of him all sweaty and beautiful and his train of thought crashed into a tree and burst into flames.

“Hey guys,” He smiled. And god, those dimples had to be illegal. “What did you think?”

“Amazing,” Hoseok exclaimed at the same time that Yoongi offered a casual, “Nice job, Joon.”

“Oh thanks,” Namjoon blushed, ducking his head at the compliments like he somehow didn’t realise how iconic he was??

“Can I get an interview?” He blurted out before he could stop himself, “Uh you know, for the newspaper?”

“Really! Sure I’d love to,” He grinned excitedly, “Why don’t we go for coffee sometime? I still owe you right?”

From anyone else, this would have been super smooth, but from Namjoon it was simply super earnest. Even when they were exchanging numbers – “So that we can find a good time!” – he was sure that the younger hadn’t the slightest idea of his actual motivations.

“Why don’t you offer to suck his dick while you’re at it?” Taehyung sniggered in his ear, blessedly out of ear shot of Namjoon.

“Fuck right off!” Hoseok snarled, ears ringing with the sound of his obnoxious laughter.

What was it with that little shit and his ability to appear when he was least wanted? Usually with a few unwelcome pieces of advice and a smug grin. He could kill him.

Just joking he was actually quite fond of him (…when under duress.)

~

The third time Hoseok met Kim Namjoon it was at what he liked to think of as their first date.

They’d managed to find a spare hour or two in their busy schedules for a late afternoon tea complete with too much cake. This was ostensibly for an interview, one he should really take seriously since he had deadlines to meet, but honestly Hoseok was just using that as an excuse to spend time with Namjoon and stare lovingly at his face for a while.

And damn, he wasn’t making it easy for him.

His outfit today was the complete opposite of what he had worn for the performance – the thought of which may or may not have been keeping him company on a few lonely nights… – gone was the denim jacket, a mess of punk-rock and anti-establishment patches, gone the skin tight leather trousers, gone the loose tank top, displaying miles of tanned skin, gone the snapback and the chains and the coloured contacts and the fingerless leather gloves.

In their place was a long, flowing cardigan, simple slacks, a crisp white shirt with just the top button undone, big square-framed glasses and messy hair looking like he’d lost the battle with the comb that morning. And instead of a cocky smile so confident that Hoseok would happily have let him step on him, his expression was shy and awkward, only brightening when their gazes met and he graced him with a perfect, dimpled smile.

In short, this Namjoon was a completely different person to the one of a few nights before, but somehow Hoseok knew he was equally as infatuated with both. How could one man do two such completely different personas so well? Better question: how could he get this man who could do both?

“– and that was also where I met Yoongi,” Namjoon finished his ten minute long ‘short summary’ of his musical inspirations on a complete tangent and Hoseok realised that it was his turn to say something.

He glanced down at the pad of paper he was supposed to be taking notes on and realised to his dismay that he had not written down a single useful word – unless scrawling Kim Hoseok several different times to see how it looked counted as useful. It was so dumb; they couldn’t even get married… which was definitely the main issue there.

Luckily the pad was angled away from Namjoon so that the younger wouldn’t be able to see the evidence of his mortifying behaviour, and at least his inane scribbles looked like he was paying attention to the job at hand. The good news was that he had his phone out to record the whole thing – and yeah that was for the interview, thank you very much.

He had been listening to Namjoon, the problem was actually that he had been listening too closely. He was so intensely focussed on the younger, so deeply engrossed in what he was telling him, hanging on to every word like it was a blessing and delighting in every random turn their conversation took – even if it was completely outside the remit of the interview – that he hadn’t been able to tear his attention away for even a single second to write down something meaningful.

Remembering that he was indeed meant to be speaking and not staring, Hoseok cleared his throat awkwardly, “So why RM?”

“Oh… do I really have to answer that?” Namjoon blushed, rubbing the back of his neck with a pained grimace, “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Don’t you think your fans will want to know?” He teased him.

“Ok… don’t laugh though? Promise me you won’t laugh.”

“I promise,” Hoseok said solemnly, putting a hand over his heart.

“It was originally Rap Monster…” Namjoon admitted, pausing to wait for his reaction. He was genuinely proud that he managed to limit himself to an amused snort… and then full out hysterical laughter.

“Come on Seok! You said you wouldn’t laugh,” He pouted at him, which only increased the volume of his laughter because dear god he had to react to that cute face somehow and this was the only way he could without losing all the rest of his dignity.

“I’m sorry,” He wheezed, “I just – what were you thinking?”

“In my defence, nobody told me not to,” He sighed despondently.

“I mean… your friends are definitely to blame for not stopping you but – and I’m gonna be brutally honest here – you came up with it in the first place!”

“Alright, no need to rub it in,” He muttered. “I’m doing my best to forget about it.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry,” Hoseok held up his hands in a placating manner, “Well I promise to leave it out of the article – and this time I mean it.”

“Thanks,” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now why don’t you tell me about your plans for the future?” E.g. do you plan on getting a boyfriend because I know a very cute dancer who is definitely interested.

And for the next hour and a half Hoseok sat there, not even pretending to write anymore and resting his chin on his hands, while Namjoon talked earnestly about subjects as far ranging as aliens – hey he wanted to understand why he had been punched – to the fate of democracy to the likelihood of cloning becoming widespread in medicine, from both a practical and ethical point of view. He didn’t offer much in the way of responses, just made noises of acknowledgment and occasionally asked prompting questions.

It was half way through the week, and though their classes for the day had all finished, Hoseok was painfully aware of a few pressing deadlines he was supposed to be working on. But in that moment it didn’t matter, he could have had a life or death appointment and he wouldn’t have gone because he couldn’t bear to tear himself away. The true fact was that Namjoon was utterly mesmerising; he spoke with such authority and interest, it seemed like he knew everything there was to know, had a well-informed opinion on every matter.

Hoseok could listen to Namjoon rambling for hours, days even, and never get bored of the sound of his voice – and what a beautiful sound it was too, deep and mellow and oh so soothing and – in short, he was ridiculously, obsessively in love with a man he had only known for a week and had spoken to only three times.

In the end it took his phone beeping to let him know it was running out of space to break him out of his trance.

“Oh, god it’s six already!” Namjoon groaned, “I’m so sorry! I just get carried away sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hoseok said hurriedly, disliking the guilty look on the younger’s face, “I wasn’t paying attention to the time either!”

“Ah well, I’m sure you have better things to be doing than listening to my rambling…” He frowned, suddenly shy and awkward again, not able to meet Hoseok’s gaze.

“No, nothing better,” He answered honestly despite the mountain of work awaiting him. “You make everything sound so interesting and you explain things so well – this has been fun!”

“Really?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, “Most people find me boring, they tell me to shut up – you probably should have interrupted me.”

“I would never,” Hoseok said firmly, and then before he could stop himself, added, “I could listen to you talk for hours.”

As soon as he registered the words that had just come out of his mouth, Hoseok blushed deeply. Namjoon had just looked so genuinely surprised that someone would enjoy listening to him that he couldn’t help himself, just had to let him know exactly how he felt. God, why was he so embarrassing?

Clearly, luck was on his side because he received a blush and a mumbled thanks instead of the scathing judgement he had been expecting. This was a good indication that he’d been spending too much time hanging around Yoongi, since he no longer expected people to react in a positive way to anything.

“I should probably go… but I’ll talk to you later?” Hoseok asked hopefully. If he could just get Namjoon to start texting him regularly he would have it in the bag. He was a master at text flirting – mostly because he could use the internet to help him.

“Yeah, sure, I’d uh… I’d like that,” Namjoon smiled happily at him and if he had to rate his urge to kiss him on a scale of one to ten he would give it a solid thirty five because honestly look at him! It was taking a whole lot of effort to hold himself back.

“Text me!” He ordered in a tone that was both friendly and brooked no disagreement. As soon as he had got a nod of confirmation he was gone, because otherwise he would have followed the younger home and that probably – ok fine. Definitely – counted as creepy.

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t a date, seeing as one half of the equation was completely unaware of that fact. But that wasn’t going to stop Hoseok thinking of it as one.

~

The next few dozen times that Hoseok met Kim Namjoon were just as wonderful as the first three, and, though he didn’t think it possible, he managed to fall a little further in love each and every time.

There were a few social events: dinner at Jin’s flat, a play Taehyung was in, another party thrown by Jimin, celebratory drinks for Yoongi getting an audition with a production company or for Jungkook acing his latest exam or for Taehyung doing well in his play or getting a good part or not failing his mandatory classes or frankly any excuse the he could come up with. (And of course consolatory drinks for when things didn’t go quite so well).

In the course of these, Hoseok learnt that not only was he the last in his friendship group to meet Namjoon, but that they had in fact all known him for a period of some months at least. He felt somewhat betrayed by this revelation even though there was no obvious reason to do so. After all, it’s not like they’d never talked about him before, and there had been occasions when they could have met but for whatever reason they hadn’t. Someone was ill or very late or had forgotten they had another commitment… and that someone was always Namjoon.

He couldn’t believe he had missed out on so much extra time of knowing (and loving) him.

There were also all the chance meetings on campus that would turn into coffee dates even when Hoseok had a lecture or trips to the library even though he didn’t need to go or grocery shopping even though he literally had three pints of milk already that were about to go off and he didn’t need more.

And then there were the less chance meetings… yeah, ok, so he might just be stalking him. But it’s not like he had gotten Jungkook to hack into his student account to discover his timetable or to trace his phone signal to find out where he lived. He had done that for a crush last year and whilst Jungkook had been perfectly willing to help him, the information had then spread through their friendship group like wildfire and the next thing he knew he had Jin breathing down his neck and Taehyung pulling out receipts every time he tried to flirt with the guy.

It won’t surprise you to hear that it didn’t work out.

No this time, Hoseok had stuck to more traditional methods. Namely, stealing Namjoon’s carefully printed out timetable from his bag – he still forgot when he was supposed to be doing what and had the directional ability of an Ikea store layout designer – and photocopying it for his own uses before returning it without the younger noticing. Also he just asked because that was a much more normal and sane thing to do.

At first he tried to be low-key in his flirting – just the occasional pick-up line here, the occasional lingering touch there – and did his best not to come on too strong. He knew he could scare people off with how quickly he became attached and the copious amounts of affection he lavished on friends and crushes alike. He wanted to give him time to get to know him, to develop feelings for him – though of course Hoseok knew that he wanted to be with Namjoon forever within the first five minutes of meeting him.

But Namjoon was just so oblivious.

It was like there was nothing he could do that had any effect! Even when he abandoned all attempts at restraint and went full-on flirt, showering him with compliments and initiating skin contact at every opportunity, the Namjoon just didn’t seem to notice. Without fail he interpreted each and every one of his actions as merely friendly overtures, waving them off or, even worse, getting the wrong end of the stick entirely and take them as criticisms or assume Hoseok was being overly nice.

He just didn’t seem to get how truly gorgeous and perfect he was. Once Namjoon caught him staring, a habit Hoseok had given up on trying to break himself out of, and asked, “Do I have something on my face?”

Hoseok kept trying to ask him on dates, but he wouldn’t get the message:

 15:05

Hoseok:

hey

u free for supper this evening?

Namjoon:

Sure Seok!

It’s much quieter in your apartment than the library

Perfect for studying together!

11:26

          Hoseok:

I found this lovely new restaurant a few blokcs from campus

*blocks

come with?

Namjoon:

Oh, you’re doing a review for the newspaper?

Good idea!

I’m happy to come!

20:56

Hoseok:

 Joon

fancy a meet up on sun?

weather’s good

let’s go to the park

Namjoon:

Yeah, cool!

I’ll put it on the group chat!

The rest of the group was always being invited along, and the fuckers would traitorously agree every time because they enjoyed seeing him suffer.

Part of the problem was that Namjoon was far too considerate by half. When there weren’t enough seats and Hoseok was fully prepared to sit on his lap, Namjoon would immediately stand up and offer his own before he could. When he took off layers to show off a little more skin – he wasn’t above that, he was actually quite far below it – he would assume he was hot and turn down the heating. When he suggested they share food in a brazen attempt to be romantically handfed and vice versa, Namjoon would move a generous portion of his meal onto Hoseok’s plate.

It was infuriating.

Despite a couple months of failure, Hoseok was not ready to give up. Most of the time he would have moved on by now, accepted that Namjoon wasn’t into him and probably come to see him as just a very good friend, but not this time. He just couldn’t let it go.

Namjoon was gorgeous and just his type in every feasible way, and that wasn’t even the main attraction. He had always been the type of person to fall in love with people’s characters before their looks: the barista with the beautiful smile who laughed all the time, the girl in his dance class who threw herself into it with a passion that surpassed anyone else, the guy who always brought a bag full of sweets to lectures and passed them round, the guy who could never stop talking about Overwatch in an extremely excitable and earnest way.

(Ok, so that last one was Jungkook, but in his defence, he fell out of love pretty quickly once he realised how much of a fetus he was)

And Namjoon. Well he was irresistible, with his unlimited enthusiasm and great interest in anything and everything and the way he could get so easily engrossed in whatever he was talking about and the eagerness with which he would tell you things, like he was just so excited for you to know. Hoseok fell in love with his passion and his intelligence, he fell in love with the way he would lose track of the time, of his surroundings, of wherever a conversation was supposed to be going, because he just wanted to tell you about things, just wanted to share the things he cared about. Hoseok fell in love with all of him.

Now if only he would pay more attention to him.

So Hoseok came up with a new grand plan, that he was sure would work – hopefully better than his first grand plan, which was a complete disaster.

(In short, he had got Namjoon to meet him at the dance studio – he had decided to minor in the arts so as to give his brain a break – and had purposefully given him an early time so that he would have to wait for him to finish. And watch him dance.

Hoseok, unlike his crush, was very aware of how people felt about him, and if he knew one thing it was that no one could resist his dancing. Not to sound cocky, but he was sex on legs when he danced. He knew Namjoon would fall for it.

He had completed his routine with extra body rolls just for the hell of it, had walked up to him, all sweaty and glowing, had flashed his best flirtatious grin at him, and then –

And then Namjoon starting talking about the music he was dancing to, instead of the actual dancing. He had been sure he had seen something, from the few glimpses he had caught of Namjoon’s reflection in the mirror whilst he was glancing, he had thought the younger was staring at him, thought the enraptured look on his face looked promising, and yet… maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to.)

Anyway, this second, much improved plan was fail-proof because it was so simple: go to a party and get drunk.

Now, that might not sound like a good idea, but the thing about alcohol was that it removed all inhibitions, like the massive amount of awkward that prevented Namjoon from responding to his flirting. The second bonus was that drinking always led to drinking games, and those inevitably involved a) excessive skin-contact or b) blurting out your feelings.

Spin the bottle, truth or dare, body shots – all excellent opportunities to flirt, and Hoseok was something of an expert when it came to drinking games, just a simple flick of the wrist and Namjoon would be his, and no one could deny that he had the abs for body shots (Thank you, dancing).

It was going to work.

~

When Hoseok met Kim Namjoon at the party the music was so deafeningly loud that they couldn’t understand one another, even when yelling at the tops of their voices.

After a few unsuccessful attempts to make himself understood, Hoseok took hold of Namjoon’s arm and steered him into the kitchen away from the speakers. It wasn’t exactly quiet and peaceful in there, but at least he could hear himself talk.

“Have you been here long?” He asked, searching for a clean cup amongst the wreckage of half-finished bottles of cheap vodka and cocktail mixes, abandoned cups, and various other bits of rubbish.

“About ten minutes,” Namjoon answered, carefully edging his way around a suspicious puddle, side-eying the couple making out on the table with mild embarrassment, “Not really my thing.”

“Oh?” Hoseok started to mix them some drinks, mostly vodka with a bit of something orange that looked promising.

“I don’t usually come to parties, but Tae dragged me here.”

For once in his life, Hoseok found himself feeling grateful for the brat’s existence. He passed Namjoon one of the cups, taking a sip from his one to check the consistency. It was a little stronger than he’d intended, but oh well, he was going to get drunk no matter what happened. This was a house party after all.

He watched Namjoon take a tentative sip and immediately wrinkle up his face in disgust. It was strangely endearing – like basically everything he did, and honestly he had no idea why he was still surprised by it every time – and Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh a little, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Hey, let’s go outside,” He said, “It’s too early for people to be smoking so we’ll have it to ourselves.”

They end up perched on a low wall in the back garden, sipping their drinks and chatting. Hoseok was already feeling pleasantly buzzed as the alcohol started to have an effect. It’d be at least an hour before the drinking games started in earnest, but he was already feeling more confident and sufficiently relaxed to sling an arm around Namjoon’s shoulders.

Honestly, he could have stayed out there all night.

Except that half an hour in it became clear that all of Hoseok’s best laid plans were fated to end in spectacular failure. For, as it turned out, Namjoon couldn’t hold his alcohol very well… in fact he couldn’t hold it at all. He also seemed to have no awareness of his non-existent tolerance levels and so made no attempt to ration himself, finishing off his cup fairly quickly despite his earlier reluctance.

He was one drink in and already completely intoxicated, swaying back and forth alarmingly on the low wall and talking a mile a minute, making approximately zero sense:

“– so you see it’s a possibility that we’re all living in the Matrix! Well not actually the Matrix because – oh but that would be clever! It could be counted as a glitch in the system that we figured it out and put it into a film. Glitches prove that you’re living in a simulation… but! This is important! You see, not having glitches doesn’t prove that you’re not living in a simulation because – get this, Neil deGrasse Tyson came up with this, so that proves it’s mainstream science, well actually no that’s flawed but – but anyway, if the simulation is sufficiently complex it could rewind and cover up errors and – oh I got it wrong, Tyson didn’t come up with it, Nick Bostrom did… Bostrom? Or was is Borstom? Anyway… what was I talking about?”

“Um…” Hoseok hesitated, unsure if he actually wanted to remind him, “Simulations?”

“Yeah! Yeah of course so… we could all be created by a fifteen year old in a garage! Ha! That’s an interesting point that could solve the inconsistent triad, because he… or she of course – or in fact they! Um… yeah so they might make earthquakes happen for the hell of it, like when you set your house on fire in Sims because you want to see the Grim Reaper and –”

For the first time in their friendship, Hoseok stopped listening. There was only so much questioning of existence that he could take in one evening, especially when he wasn’t exactly clear-headed himself. However, he had no choice but to pay attention to the younger for Namjoon, it seemed, was a very clingy drunk.

He had leant almost all his weight on him, having wrapped both arms around him, and buried his face into Hoseok’s neck. Then, his voice rather muffled, he began to whine, “Seok! S’ cold…”

“Oh…uh-ok then, yuh-yeah ok, why don’t we uh go inside? Um, that would make sense, right?” He was blushing so brightly that he was sure his face could be used as a traffic light.

“Mmmm, you’re warm Seok!”

“Thanks?” He swallowed thickly, “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

Hoseok just about managed to half drag, half carry Namjoon inside. The younger was still perfectly capable of walking, he just seemed reluctant to use his feet, preferring to hang on his shoulders like a rag doll.

“Hey hyungs!” Taehyung yelled, somehow finding them immediately and pushing fresh drinks into their hands.

“I don’t think that’s –” Hoseok began to protest, but Namjoon had already grabbed his eagerly and started chucking it back, “Ok, never mind then.”

“Having a nice time?” Taehyung asked, waggling his eyebrows meaningfully at them. Hoseok flashed him the bird when Namjoon wasn’t looking, distracted as he was by Jin on his other side.

“Hyung! Have I ever… have I ever told you that your face is mathematically perfect?” He asked, beaming happily.

“You have, Joon,” Jin replied patiently, “Every time you get drunk actually.”

“Really? Because it’s true you know – like Fibonacci and his numbers and the golden ratio, it all matches up… very pleasing to the eye like scientifically.”

“Thank you, Joon,” Jin patted him on the shoulder. “Tae can I talk to you for one sec?”

Judging by the menacing look on the elder’s face, Taehyung was in for a scolding. Hoseok would feel more vindicated if he wasn’t so busy being morose. Why wouldn’t Namjoon compliment him like that? Was his face not mathematically perfect? Was that what Namjoon wanted? Was that why he didn’t react to all his advances?

“Seok! Hey – hey Seok… Hoseok! Seok!” Namjoon poked him several times to get his attention.

“What is it?”

“Dance with me!” He grinned, already tugging him towards the ‘dance floor’ – A.K.A the middle of the room.

“Are you sure –”

“Come on, hyung,” Namjoon whined. Oh. He never called him hyung – they were too close in age, “You’re such a good dancer, I like watching you dance. I want – I wanna dance with you! We should dance!”

It was at this point that Hoseok abandoned all resistance and followed him eagerly. Namjoon thought he was a good dancer. Namjoon liked watching him dance. Namjoon wanted to dance with him. Maybe his plan was working after all.

Dancing turned out to be more of Namjoon clinging to him and awkwardly moving about with little recognition of the beat or in fact any rhythm at all. The younger was all limb, usually moving around erratically and without much control. He kept tripping up – on the carpet, on other people, on his own feet – and a couple of times even kicked him in the shins by accident. Even so, Hoseok couldn’t be happier.

Until Namjoon suddenly pulled back with a distressed look on his face and mumbled, “I don’t feel so great,” before running off.

After that, Hoseok took it upon himself to take care of Namjoon and get him home safe. He even forked out for a taxi to take them back to the campus accommodation where the younger lived. The buses were still running, but he figured it would be quicker and easier this way. He didn’t fancy trying to wrangle drunk Namjoon onto public transport.

Namjoon was pretty quiet throughout the taxi ride, just muttering something about a capitalist conspiracy and groaning every now and again. He was slumped over with his head leaning on Hoseok’s shoulder, pushing against the hand that was gently stroking his hair like a cat.

He was doing his very best not to read too much into it, to not let it affect him. Namjoon was just drunk, he didn’t know what he was doing and would probably remember little of it in the morning. But god, it was so hard! Namjoon was just too adorable, pouting at every little discomfort, clinging to him stubbornly and whining whenever he tried to move him, unable to walk in something even remotely resembling a straight line and stumbling over thin air.

“Have you – have you ever heard of the drunkard’s walk? It’s this theory about randomness, like Brownian motion – you know the thing with how particles move randomly when in a liquid without ext…external force? It’s to do with the movement of the particles of liquid and random collisions and stuff but like,” Namjoon paused for a moment as he tried to figure out which foot to put in front of the other, “It’s really cool how randomness rules our lives. We try to find patterns but we’re just making them up and really everything is up to chance. I read this book – it’s a really good book, have I told you about it before? I feel like I have. But actually truly random sequences have repetition so that’s relevant anyway… yeah so I’m representing that theory right now!”

Getting into Namjoon’s room involved a fair bit of groping since he refused to fetch his keys himself and kept guessing the pocket wrong. Hoseok was concentrating on the younger’s ramblings on probability in an attempt to distract himself but wasn’t doing a very good job. Normally, this kind of thing would have delighted him, but he didn’t want to take advantage of him when he was in such a state – obviously, it would be a shitty thing to do.

Eventually he managed to get inside and then wrestle Namjoon into bed, busying himself in the bathroom searching for some aspirin and fetching a glass of water whilst the younger struggled into his pajamas. The result was far from perfect – no single button was done up in the right way and his trousers were inside out – but it would have to do.

“Here, drink this,” Hoseok instructed, pressing the glass into his hands, “And take these – it’ll help with the hangover.”

“Thanks Seok,” Namjoon smiled, “You’re so nice – have I ever told you how nice you are? Taking care of me and stuff… and you always listen! Must be a saint to keep listening to me. You’re really nice. I really… I really like you.”

“OK, into bed, come on,” He said hurriedly, trying not to squeak in panic. “Time to sleep.”

He ran out to fill up the glass again, trying to even out his breathing, trying to remind himself that Namjoon was drunk, that it didn’t mean anything.

When he returned, Namjoon was already fast asleep, sprawled out on his back like a star fish. Hoseok wrestled with the covers until he was satisfied that the younger was sufficiently tucked in and then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

It was an indulgence, he knew, but Namjoon was dead to the world.

He wouldn’t remember this.

~

“Ugh,” Hoseok groaned, throwing himself down on Yoongi’s bed with a frustrated sigh.

“That’s my bed,” Yoongi said absentmindedly. He was concentrating on the music he was working on, sitting at his desk bent over his laptop with his headphones covering one ear. Every now and again he would hum a few notes, or tap out a beat on the table top. “Move.”

“You’re not on it,” He protested.

“I don’t care. It’s my bed. Get off.”

“I hate you,” Hoseok muttered without much feeling, sliding onto the floor. He leant against the side of the bed in a move of defiance.

“Why are you so moody?” Yoongi asked after a few minutes of ignoring him.

“Do you actually care?”

He paused for a moment to think and then shrugged, “No, you’re right I don’t. But your melodramatic sighing is bothering me so speak up or find somewhere else to lurk under that black cloud of yours.”

“You'll make fun of me,” He pointed out.

“Yeah, obviously,”

“Ok fine,” Hoseok sighed, “It's Namjoon.”

“Again, obviously.”

“What do you mean obviously? There are plenty of things I could be unhappy about!”

“Well, judging by the piles of soppy romance novels cluttering up the place, clearly that’s the main thing on your mind right now,” Yoongi snarked, “Come on, I always know when you’ve got a crush on someone. You stare into space a lot, sigh every five seconds and act miserable. It’s tiresome.”

“This isn't just a crush!” Hoseok protested, not bothering to contest the other stuff. He’d learnt long ago that Yoongi didn’t bother to sugar-coat things, “He's the One! I know it!”

“You said that about the last twelve,” He muttered, no doubt rolling his eyes.

“Hyung! He’s just so oblivious! Like I am being as clear as I can, and he never gets it! I don’t know what to do!”

“Ok Seok,” Yoongi turned his chair round to face him. Oh, this was serious, here it comes: genuine advice. “Here's the thing: Joon is the smartest person I know, he’s got an IQ of one four eight – a certified genius, ok? But he’s also a complete idiot with the emotional intelligence of a spoon. You need to spell it out in great big letters. Seriously. You could write him a love song and he'd assume you were giving it to him for critique. Hell, you could French him and he'd assume it was some kind of scientific experiment and read no more into it!”

“So...”

“So,” He huffed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You go up to him, tell him that you love him, that you’re getting married and you want to have his babies and voila!”

“Right…” Hoseok said uncertainly. “Yeah, ok, thanks hyung.”

“Glad to help,” Yoongi spun back round to his computer, “Now sod off. I’ve got work to do.”

~

The next time Hoseok met Kim Namjoon was at the dance studio.

He had sent a vague text asking him to come to the studio to meet him there after his rehearsal, hoping that dancing would give him the confidence he needed to finally get his shit together and declare his undying love and all that jazz. It would also have the added bonus of being far away from all his interfering friends, who would no doubt sabotage him whether intentionally or by accident.

So far, it wasn’t going very well. He had spent the whole rehearsal making stupid mistakes and failing to land even the most basic of moves. His ankle hurt from where he had stumbled and landed heavily on it, and his pride was bruised even worse. He was so nervous that he felt sick and was copiously – much more than one might expect after rigorous exertion.

He was supposed to be stretching, in front of the mirror with one foot up on the bar that was used for ballet classes. In reality he had been standing there for ten minutes trying to say motivational things to his reflection and regretting all of his life choices. Maybe this was the wrong time to ask Namjoon out, after all, it hadn’t gone down well the last time he’d come to the studio… What if he smelled bad? Oh god. Maybe that was why he wanted to leave? Maybe –

“Seok,” Namjoon greeted him, walking through the door with some difficulty due to the large pile of books he was struggling to carry. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Hoseok replied in a slightly strangled voice. He turned around to face him but forgot to take his foot off the bar and so stumbled and ended up on the floor in an ungraceful heap. Wow, way to play it cool.

“Are you ok?” He asked, sounding concerned, as well he might given that wonderful display of idiocy. He might as well have tried to lean on a wall and fallen through a door instead.

“Yep, all good, meant to do that… I mean obviously I didn’t, why would I do that on purpose? That would be ridiculous,” He laughed awkwardly, “I just lost my balance… yeah.”

“Let me help you up,” Namjoon offered, trying to shift all of the heavy books onto one arm so that he would have a free hand and inevitably dropping them all, “Oh damn!”

“I’ve got it!” Hoseok said hurriedly, scrambling forward on his knees to grab the books at the same time that Namjoon crouched down to get them.

By this point he thought he’d have to give up on declaring his love and affection and postpone the whole deal for another day when he wasn’t such an awkward mess. Maybe he would invite him out to dinner again, a romantic one with candles – actually wait, that was a terrible idea, Namjoon would set fire to his sleeves.

But clearly Fate had other plans, for their hands met as they both reached for the same book in the ultimate rom com cliché that Hoseok had watched happen a hundred times but had never expected in real life. And they both looked up, hands still touching, and their eyes met. For a moment neither of them moved, staring at one another in silence and then…

“Will you go out with me?” Namjoon blurted out, immediately flushing a deep red and ducking his head. “I mean –”

“What?” Hoseok asked, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Will you go out with me?” He repeated hesitantly, “Like on a date, a – a romantic date uh… because I like you? And I really want to date you so will you gooutonadatewithme?”

He struggled to answer immediately, still in shock and mind full of buzzing static, but he had understood the younger perfectly despite his rushed words.

“I’m sorry – shit. I didn’t – you don’t have to… that is please just forget about this,” Namjoon backtracked, panicking, “I promise I’ll never –“

“Yes,” Hoseok interrupted him.

“And we don’t – wait… what? Yes? You’re… you’re saying yes?” He asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes! Namjoon, I’m saying yes. Of course I am! I’ve liked you since the moment I met you,” He told him, raking a hand through his hair in frustration, “Dear god, I can’t believe – I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out for months! Hell, I’ve actually asked like five times and you never noticed!”

“You… seriously? How can you – all this time?”

“Yeah, all this time,” Hoseok sighed, “I literally could not have been more obvious about it! I even wore a goddamn tank top in February! February!”

“Oh,” Namjoon said, “Oh! I thought – all this time I – weren’t you just being friendly? And like… Oh.”

“Yeah, you great dummy,” He smiled, happiness finally winning out over annoyance. “So much for an IQ of 148.”

“Hey!” He protested, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly, “Come on. You know I’m bad at reading social situations.”

“Do I ever,” He laughed, rolling his eyes, and then lurched forward to grab Namjoon’s other hand. “So… Dinner at mine? Tonight? I’ll kick out Yoongi and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Sounds good!” Namjoon nodded enthusiastically, and then more shyly, “I’d uh… I’d like that Seok.”

“Looking forward to it already,” Hoseok grinned, so happy he wanted to kiss the younger all over his face. But for now, he would hold himself back, there was no sense in rushing things; they’d get the chance soon enough, he was sure.

And indeed the next time Hoseok met Kim Namjoon they had their first kiss.