Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seokjin stares down at the latest edition of their magazine he has sitting on his desk, and sighs. He isn’t happy with it, to put things nicely. The lighting in the photograph on the cover is wrong, and one of the fonts do not match any of the others. 

Have to do all of this myself, he thinks, clicking around on his computer until he pulls up a blank email document. He adds almost every single one of his employees to the recipient box, and then moves the magazine out of his way so that he can start typing a short greeting that he hopes conveys his irritation. He attaches a few documents of what the magazine should look like to the bottom, and then demands that the changes be made by the end of the work day so that they can still meet their deadline.

He doesn’t CC Yoongi. Figures that if it becomes an issue, he can just talk to him about it later. 

He starts getting replies back only minutes after the email has been sent. A bunch of yes sir s, and on it, sir s, and thank you for your feedback, sir s. Things that he likes to hear, good ego-boosts. Pleased with himself, he exits out of the email server and moves on to his next task for the day. 

He has a meeting with a representative from South Korea later on in the afternoon, and he needs to prepare for it. It’s nothing too major; they’re just discussing a sponsorship, but he always likes to be prepared. Rumor has it that this particular representative is a hardass, and often doesn’t like to involve himself or his company in American affairs.

Valid, Seokjin thinks, but they can’t afford to lose this specific sponsor. Not when the last one backed out because of aesthetic choices.  

He and Yoongi had spent all of last night preparing presentation slides for the meeting, which he now begins perfecting, triple checking all of their numbers and stats to make sure they’re all correct.

He’s halfway through slide number twenty seven when a knock sounds on the door, and before Seokjin can even react it’s opening and someone is stepping into his office. 

When he looks up, he finds Yoongi. He smiles. “Hey. Did anyone say anything to you about the email I just sent out? Because we may need to talk about some things, it wasn’t looking all that great.” 

Yoongi is the COO of the American branch of their company, but Seokjin had been the COO of the Korean branch and helps Yoongi out a lot now that he’s here, so he sort of has just as much leverage and power in the office. Or at least Seokjin likes to pretend he does. Yoongi humors him because he’s Yoongi and really couldn’t care either way, and also because Seokjin thinks he doesn’t like being in charge all that much. 

“Mm, no,” Yoongi hums, and then shuts the door behind him. Which is odd, for Yoongi at least, because usually he just steps in, grunts something at Seokjin, and then leaves. “Listen, Seokjin-hyung. We need to talk.” 

Ah. That’s why the door has been shut. Seokjin sighs and leans back against his chair, folding his hands across his lap.

“What happened?” 

“Remember when I told you that you couldn’t go to Japan last month, because your Visa hadn’t been approved yet?” Yoongi begins. Seokjin nods because he does remember being told to trash his plane ticket and stay at home. They were going to send Chaeyoung instead, but they never would’ve made the deal if she had gone in his place.

So, he ignored Yoongi, and went. 

“Yes,” Seokjin says, confused. “And what about it?” 

Yoongi looks unimpressed. He groans and runs a hand down his face. “Your immigration lawyer just called me, hyung. He said he’s been trying to get ahold of you for the past two hours.” 

Seokjin glances down at his phone. There have been ten missed phone calls from an unknown number. He didn’t even think of answering a single one of them, because who answers phone calls from unknown numbers anymore?

“He isn’t on the list.” 

“Well maybe you should put him on the list,” Yoongi suggests, clearly agitated, “-so that I don’t have to talk to him and then deliver the news that you’re being deported.” 

“I- what?!” Seokjin says, sitting up fast enough it has his head spinning. Is Yoongi being serious? “What are you talking about? Deported?”  

“Yes,” Yoongi nods. He doesn’t look nearly as unhappy and confused as Seokjin feels, just bored and maybe even a little bit annoyed. “They’re giving you 48 hours to pack up your shit and then they’re shipping you back to South Korea.” 

South Korea. Seokjin gulps. He can’t fucking go back to South Korea.  

“Yoongi,” Seokjin pleads, “-no, come on. You told them no, right?” 

“You can’t just tell the fucking government no, hyung,” Yoongi tells him. “They will quite literally drag you out of the country if you don’t voluntarily leave.” 

“This must be a mistake,” Seokjin mumbles. They can’t do that, can they? He was out of the country for less than 72 hours! Most of his time was spent on an American airline anyway!

He won’t dare run his hands through his gelled hair, but he comes close to it. “Who will go to-” 

“California? I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” Yoongi still looks unimpressed, like he really couldn’t care less about what happens with Seokjin, but Seokjin knows he’s secretly freaking out on the inside, too. He hates dealing with the important stuff by himself.

“Well, there has to be some way we can appeal this,” Seokjin offers. He starts racking his brain, trying to come up with any kind of solution that will get him out of this mess, but he only comes up empty. 

“Hyung, you can’t appeal this,” Yoongi says. “The guy said you can come back in a year, reapply for your Visa, but you have to go back to South Korea for now.” 

Seokjin sighs. He’s only been here for six months, he has no clue how the American government works or what its laws on immigration are past what his lawyer has told him, but he knows that what Yoongi is saying is the truth. There’s no getting out of this, unless he wants to do something entirely illegal. 

He’s not above breaking the law; he just doesn’t know how.  

“Fine,” he finally concedes, nodding. “Fine, whatever. I can just work from Korea-”

“You can’t. We’re an American company. You’re going to have to go back to the Korean branch for the time being.” 

Seokjin’s blood runs cold. He can’t do that. He doesn’t want to go back to South Korea at all, but he especially doesn’t want to go back to the Korean branch of the company. Not after what happened.  

“I’ll figure something out.” He stands up from his chair and begins pacing, his mind running a million miles a minute. “Listen, I can’t go to California this weekend. They won’t let me get on the plane, I think.” 

Seokjin glances down at Yoongi and finds him staring up at him, almost as if asking why are you still talking about this? Seokjin doesn’t know. Fuck, this is a nightmare. 

“So someone else has to go. But you can’t, because you have to stay here,” Seokjin pauses, “-Namjoon! Namjoon will go.” 

“Oh, hyung, he can’t, we’ve got-” 

“He’s your best friend, he listens to everything you say. You can just tell him exactly what I say and it’ll be like I’m there! Oh, see? We’re figuring things out, it’ll be fine.” 

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. “He can’t-” 

Seokjin ignores him. “And I- I’ll work something out! It’ll be fine, okay? Don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” Yoongi tells him. “You’re going back to South Korea, and I’ll see you in a year.” 

Seokjin ignores him, again. He picks up his phone from his desk and stuffs it into his back pocket. “I’m going to go tell Namjoon about this weekend.” 

“He really can’t-” 

Seokjin shuts his own door on Yoongi. 

He finds Namjoon in his cubicle, approximately five yards away from his own office. The younger man is leaning back in his chair, his headphones on, and he’s listening to what Seokjin hopes is a musical piece for their magazine.  

He and Namjoon have never gotten along. Namjoon is Yoongi’s best friend, but the way the office is split, Seokjin is technically his primary boss. Namjoon doesn’t take to criticism very well. Neither does Seokjin, and because they’re both incredibly stubborn, they often butt heads. 

Still, Seokjin can’t think of anyone else more qualified to go to California this weekend. He taps on the side of Namjoon’s cubicle. 

“Wha-” Namjoon starts, throwing his headphones off and onto his desk. He leans forward and then glances at Seokjin, before glaring up at him. “Yes?” 

“I’m about to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime, Kim Namjoon.” Namjoon squints at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Seokjin crosses his arms and leans against the unstable cubicle wall. He watches as Namjoon’s glare morphs into what he can only assume is an expression of panic. Seokjin hasn’t got the slightest clue as to why. 

“Yes?” Namjoon repeats, folding his hands on top of his desk. Seokjin glances around the tiny area; it’s messy, but more of an organized mess than anything else. Nothing like Seokjin’s clean, pristine office.

“You’re going to California this weekend,” Seokjin tells him, “-to meet with that producer.” 

Namjoon stares at him. Seokjin decides to elaborate. 

“To talk about interviewing different people in his company? For the Inside-Look portion of our next issue? I distinctly remember CC’ing you on the email.” 

Namjoon shakes his head. “You did not. You never CC me on any emails.” 

This may be true, Seokjin thinks. Come to think of it, he can’t remember CC’ing Namjoon on any emails lately. If he has something to say to the man, he usually just has his assistant run it over on a sticky note. 

“Well,” Seokjin begins, “-you’re going to L.A. anyway. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Namjoon is up and out of his seat in less than a second. “You said you had an offer. Which means that I get a choice.”  

Seokjin hums. But really, when does anyone is this office get a choice? “You’re the only option.”

Namjoon is not all that much taller than him, but he looms over him anyways. Seokjin doesn’t think he’s trying to be intimidating, but he still shrinks backwards, cowering against the wall. 

“I can’t go.” 

“And why is that?” Seokjin is not used to people telling him no. Especially not when they’re given the chance to go on a business trip, for free, to further their career. Usually Namjoon jumps on everything. He and Seokjin may not always get along, but Seokjin can’t deny he’s a decent employee. He still thinks Yoongi gives him way too much leeway, and it sucks because they’re best friends, but Seokjin doesn’t think Namjoon’s awful.  

“I have to go to a wedding.” 

Seokjin scoffs. A wedding. Maybe if someone was dying, but a wedding? No, there’s no way Namjoon’s skipping out on this important trip for a wedding.  

Perhaps he is awful for even suggesting it.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to send them a fruit basket, or something,” Seokjin doesn’t really know what you send newlyweds, if he’s being honest, “-because you’re not going.” 

“But Yoongi is going too!” 

“Then he can FaceTime you during the ceremony!” 

“Our best friends are getting married-” 

Seokjin pauses, and it’s like a light bulb goes off in his head.

Marriage? Marriage. Marriage-

Marriage. Oh god, it’s brilliant.  

“Namjoon,” Seokjin says, very quietly. The taller man stops talking and peers down at him, eyebrow quirked. “You’re gay, right?” 

“Bisexual, but-” 

Seokjin waves him off. “Right. But you’d date a man?”

Namjoon sighs. “Yes, that is what bisexual means.” 

“Perfect.” 

Seokjin grins. Perfect indeed.

“Come with me,” he says, grabbing Namjoon’s wrist. “We’re going to see Yoongi.” 

“Why?” Namjoon asks. He resists, digging his heels into the ground and shaking free of Seokjin’s grip. Seokjin turns around to find him crossing his arms, almost like he’s a toddler throwing a tantrum. He isn’t impressed, that’s for sure. 

“Just come with me.” 

“Tell me why, first.” 

Seokjin groans. He looks across the cubicles; everyone is staring at them. He lowers his voice so that just Namjoon can hear him. “You won’t have to go to California anymore if you come with me.” 

Namjoon pauses. “Fine.” 

Seokjin grabs his wrist again and begins pulling him down the hallway. Yoongi’s left his office by now, evident by how his door is standing wide open, so he drags Namjoon all the way down to Yoongi’s side of the floor. When he gets to the other’s office he throws the door open and shoves Namjoon in, before shutting the door quietly behind himself and taking a deep breath. He runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out in an attempt to compose himself, and then looks up. 

Yoongi is staring at him. Namjoon is seething at the floor. Seokjin puts on his brightest, most in-your-face smile. 

“Hyung,” Yoongi says hesitantly, almost as if he’s afraid he’s going to disturb Seokjin; like he’s a feral animal, or something equally as offensive, “-I told you he couldn’t go.” 

“Well, he’s not. I’ll get someone else to go,” Seokjin explains. “Maybe that nice girl who runs copies for us a lot?” 

“The one that you said we should fire, like, last week?”

“Yes.” 

Yoongi snorts. “Sure, I’ll send her an email.” He turns towards his computer and starts clicking around on it. “Shouldn’t you head home and start packing up?” 

“Fuck you,” Seokjin drawls out. He glances at Namjoon, who’s still glaring at the ugly carpet they have installed in their offices. “Anyway, the joke's on you, because now I won’t have to.” 

“Hm? And why’s that?” 

“Because,” Seokjin bites his lip. Here goes nothing. “Namjoon and I are getting married.” 

Something crashes to the ground. Seokjin looks over at Namjoon and finds that he’s knocked a vase over in his attempt to push off of the shelf he was leaning on. Dramatic, he thinks, totally not necessary.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Namjoon!” Yoongi exclaims, throwing his hands up. “That was from South Africa!” 

“We’re getting what?” Namjoon asks, completely ignoring the fact that his big ass body has just knocked a very expensive vase onto the floor. 

“Married,” Seokjin says again, like it’s nothing. Because it isn’t. “We’ll have a quick shotgun wedding, and get divorced in like a year.” 

“And why would I do that?” Namjoon looks confused more than anything else, and Seokjin realizes he’s forgotten to explain the situation to him. He turns to Yoongi, finding him just as perplexed. 

“He’s getting deported,” Yoongi says, the same time Seokjin mutters- “I’m getting deported.”

Namjoon looks between them, before shaking his head frantically. “No. No. That’s illegal.”  

“He’s right, hyung,” Yoongi says. “He’ll go to jail and I’m pretty sure you’ll never be allowed back in the country.”

Yes, Seokjin knows this. It’s kind of common sense. It’s true for most countries and their immigration laws. And yet-

“Then I guess we’ll just have to be really convincing, honey,” he glares at Namjoon, “-we’re getting married.” 

“The fuck we are!” Namjoon throws his hands up, and Seokjin thinks, again, dramatic. “We’re not getting married. Sorry, guess you’ll just have to go back to Korea.” 

Seokjin knows that he can’t hold the wedding over Namjoon’s head. He probably already got the time off approved, and even if he hasn’t yet, Yoongi would never let him miss it just because Seokjin said so.

No, Seokjin needs something else. Another source of motivation, something to dangle in front of Namjoon so that he agrees to this. Something he’s been wanting for awhile. 

“I’ll promote you to Executive Manager of the office.” 

Namjoon freezes halfway to the door. He turns around slowly, glaring at Seokjin. “That’s Richard’s job.” 

“I fucking hate Richard,” Seokjin admits. “I’ve been wanting to fire him for a couple of months now anyway.” 

“Well, Yoongi would need to sign off on it too.” 

“You think he wouldn’t? You two are attached at the hip,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. He turns to Yoongi, gestures at him lazily, and watches as the younger shrugs. “See? He doesn’t mind.” 

“No, I mind,” Yoongi cuts in. “I still think this is a bad idea.” 

“Well, no one asked you anyway.” 

Yoongi glares at him. Seokjin glares right back. He will get his way. 

“I’ll promote you and in a year when all of this is sorted out we can get a divorce. It’s a win-win situation for everyone.” 

“Except I have to marry you,” Namjoon growls. He looks like he’s at least considering it, though. 

“And why is that a bad thing? I don’t see anyone else lined up to date you!” 

Yoongi snorts. Namjoon picks up a pen from Yoongi’s desk and flips it at Seokjin, though it lands threateningly two feet away. Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“Do you know what the office calls you?” 

Seokjin sighs. He can only imagine. “No, I don’t.” 

“The evil stepmother.” 

“That makes no sense!” Seokjin protests. “Numbers have been flourishing since I joined-” 

“Because you’re a hardass! You’re mean! You don’t let anyone take a break!” 

“I have a good work ethic-”  

“One of the secretaries has a voodoo doll of you!” 

Seokjin pauses. “Now that’s just hurtful,” he says. “Tell me who, I’ll have her fired-” 

“We’ve all used it.” 

Seokjin groans. Truly, he doesn’t understand why Namjoon is so bothered by this. He thinks he’s certainly getting the short end of the stick; Namjoon is insufferable most of the time . “In any other circumstances this would make me want to give the ring back, but I don’t care what you say, Kim Namjoon. We’re getting married.” 

“I’m allergic to weddings.” 

“You’re going to one this weekend.”  

“I’ll be wearing a mask.” 

Seokjin turns to Yoongi, pleading with his eyes. Yoongi shrugs. 

“I’m telling you, this is a bad idea.” 

“It’s not,” Seokjin argues. “It’s a fantastic idea.” 

“Well, I don’t care,” Namjoon says. He starts walking towards the door again. “I don’t care what job you offer me, or how much of a pay increase you promise. I’m not doing it.” 

Seokjin screams, but only in his head. He’s desperate. This is his only chance. He starts thinking about other things that Namjoon might want, or if there’s anyone else in the office that would be willing to do this for him; although he’s pretty sure everyone else in the office is either straight, or a girl. He could pretend to be straight, but that kind of disgusts him a little. There’s Yoongi-

Wait.  

“I’ll get you contacts.” 

“What?” Namjoon says. “I already have contacts-” 

“No, dumbass. Contacts. You want to produce music, right? I have contacts.” 

Namjoon whips around, and instead of looking elated like Seokjin had been expecting, he looks pissed. 

“Don’t joke about that,” Namjoon tells him. 

“No, I’m being serious,” Seokjin says. “Swear on my life. You’re always talking about making music, or whatever. So if you help me with this, I’ll get you those contacts, and do whatever I need to do to get you on a label.” 

Despite popular belief, Seokjin listens to his employees. He’s walked in on many conversations between Yoongi and Namjoon, where the latter had been talking about a song he’d produced on his computer, or something of the sort. He knows that Namjoon doesn’t want to work at the company for the rest of his life. He wants to make music.

And Seokjin can make that happen for him. If Namjoon marries him. 

Namjoon bites his lip. He glances at Yoongi, and Yoongi shrugs, because that’s apparently all he’s good for. Though Seokjin knows that Yoongi is well aware of how much power he holds in the music industry. 

He may be tainted in South Korea, but his name alone will get him just about anything in the west.

“You’re not lying?” 

“I wouldn’t lie about that,” Seokjin reassures Namjoon. “Look, it’s simple. You just have to stay married to me for however long it takes to get my citizenship. I don’t think it’ll take long, I came over here on good terms.” 

“Until you left the country,” Yoongi pipes up, unhelpfully. 

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Seokjin mutters. He redirects his attention back to Namjoon. “And then we can get divorced, say it didn’t work out, and go on with our lives. And I’ll help you get your dream job, or whatever.” 

Namjoon sighs. He’s crumbling, Seokjin can see it. He grins; he always gets his way. 

“And I can still go to the wedding this weekend?” 

“Of course,” Seokjin says, like he’s doing him a great service by allowing him to go. “I’ll even pay for the flight.” 

“We already have the tickets.” 

“Well, that’s a shame. I could’ve used the miles.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Fine.” 

“Namjoon-” 

“Yoongi, shut up,” Seokjin says, holding a hand out to stop the other from speaking. He does not need Namjoon to change his mind right now. “No takesies backsies.”

“I cannot believe you just said that,” Yoongi says. “Oh my god, both of you, get out of my office.” 

“We should probably get going anyway,” Seokjin shoos Namjoon towards the door. “We have places to be.”

“What? Why? Where are we going?” 

“Immigration Services.” 

“Can’t it fucking wait?” Namjoon asks. He leaves Yoongi’s office, Seokjin trailing right behind him. “Like, until after this weekend?” 

“By the time you get back, I’ll already be on a plane back to South Korea,” Seokjin explains. He shoves Namjoon towards his cubicle. “Grab your things.” 

Namjoon glares at him. Seokjin goes to get his jacket. 

Immigration Services is a lot more packed than Seokjin had imagined it to be, especially for a Wednesday afternoon. The line is wrapped around the inside of the building when they walk in, backed all the way up to the door. 

But they don’t have time for that. Seokjin grabs Namjoon’s wrist and tugs him forward, weaving them around the clumps of people until he gets to the front of the line. A woman is about to step up, but before she can Seokjin throws an apologetic smile her way and cuts in front. 

“Hello,” he says to the person behind the counter. “I’d like to file a fiance form.” 

“Right,” the man drawls out. He picks up the folder Seokjin sets down on the counter and flips through it. “There’s a line, you know.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not really...with them, you know?” 

“Oh my god,” Namjoon mutters, from where he’s standing behind him. Seokjin ignores him. 

“I see,” the man says. He looks annoyed, and like he’s out to get Seokjin, which would just be the icing on the metaphorical cake that is this disaster day because everyone seems to be out to get Seokjin right now. Especially the people clearly glaring at him and whispering behind his back, whom Namjoon keeps trying to apologize to. Seokjin wishes he’d just shut up. “Follow me.” 

Seokjin flashes him a grin and then begins walking towards the door that leads to the back. The man opens it and both he and Namjoon walk through, before being led back to an office positioned down the hall a bit. The man knocks on the door, and when he gets a response he twists the doorknob open and waves them in. 

“This couple,” he says, in a way that makes Seokjin’s skin crawl, “-would like to file a fiance form.” 

“Oh!” the woman behind the desk says, sounding enthusiastic about it. She takes the folder from the man’s hands and then gestures for Seokjin and Namjoon to take a seat. “Please, have a seat.” 

The man closes the door once both Seokjin and Namjoon are sitting. The woman flips through Seokjin’s folder, the office plunged into silence for a few awkward moments. Even when she’s done reading through the folder the lady still doesn’t speak, instead turning to her computer and typing something out on it. All Seokjin can do is sit and wait in quiet anticipation, staring at the ugly wall decor hanging above her desk. 

“Well,” the woman says after what feels like an eternity. She shuffles the forms from the folder together and then sets them down, before folding her hands together and resting them on top. “You do realize this is illegal, correct?” 

“I’m sorry?” Seokjin says immediately, eyebrows shooting up to what he thinks is probably his hairline. Christ, he didn’t think they were that transparent. 

“Mr. Kim, you’re being deported,” the woman says, “-so it seems a bit suspicious to me that you’ve decided to file this form now.” 

Seokjin laughs, nervously. “Oh my, I wasn’t even aware! Is that what all of those missed calls were about this morning?” 

The lady doesn’t look convinced. Seokjin doesn’t blame her but again, he’s desperate.  

“What a coincidence! Ma'am, I truly do apologize, but that’s not what this is.” 

“Hm,” the woman hums. Her name tag reads Joan Hilford. “Well in that case, congratulations.” 

Seokjin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. So, he reaches across the chair and grabs Namjoon’s. Perhaps it will make them seem a bit more convincing.  

“But you do realize this is not a normal engagement, correct? We’ll have to be involved.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Seokjin says, like he knows anything about what she’s talking about. “That’s why we’re here! To make it official.” 

“I’m sure,” Ms. Hilford mutters. 

Namjoon’s hand twitches in Seokjin’s hold. Seokjin pinches his pinky with his nails, gritting out a smile. 

“So tell me, Mr. Kim and, well, Mr. Kim,” Ms. Hilford begins, “-how did this relationship start? Give me the details.” 

“Well,” Seokjin says, clearing his throat. Acting has always been a passion of his. “We met through our job.”

“And what’s that?” 

“We work for a magazine company,” Seokjin grins. “When I arrived earlier this year, Namjoon was the first person that caught my eye. I thought he was beautiful.” 

Namjoon’s hand twitches again. Seokjin squeezes it, and not gently either.

“Romantic,” Ms. Hilford says, voice void of any kind of emotion. “When did you begin dating?” 

“Around three months ago, give or take a few days,” Seokjin tells her. Her eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised, and Seokjin nervously chuckles. “I know, I know. It seems a bit quick for an engagement, but sometimes you just know, you know? Namjoon’s the one.” 

Namjoon clears his throat, and Ms. Hilford turns to him. 

“Anything you’d like to add, Mr. Kim?” 

“I’m the only person that can get through to Seokjin,” he says, and Seokjin scowls. True, but not worth mentioning, he thinks. 

Namjoon’s the only person in the office that has ever gotten Seokjin to do something he said he’d never do, aside from Yoongi, and that’s only because Yoongi is technically in charge. It had to do with an interview, and Seokjin tends to block it from his memory. It’s not something he wants other people knowing, either. 

“I see.” Ms. Hilford notes it down on a pad of paper. 

“Beneath all of that...tough facade, he’s really just a sweetheart,” Namjoon grins, but Seokjin can tell that it isn’t genuine. He tries his best to hide his frown. “He sings in his office when he thinks no one is around to hear him. And he’s constantly stealing cookies from the break room.” 

“I do not-” 

“Interesting,” Ms. Hilford cuts him off. Seokjin leans back in his chair, pouting. “And what about your home life? Do you live together?” 

“No,” they both say at the same time, rushing out the reply. Seokjin thinks they may have been too quick with their answer, so he bites his lip and tries to come up with some kind of an explanation; Namjoon beats him to it. 

“Seokjin is stuck in his ways. He has the soul of an 80-year-old woman. He didn’t want to move in with me until we were engaged. I suppose that’s why I proposed so fast. It was getting annoying having to travel to his place, thirty minutes across town, just for sex.” 

“Oh my god,” Seokjin mumbles. He can feel his face burning. Ms. Hilford doesn’t even look fazed. 

“So you plan to move in together soon?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Namjoon says. “Seokjin lives in a penthouse apartment. It’s huge, I’m almost as excited to move in as I am to marry him.” 

Seokjin doesn’t know why Namjoon knows about his apartment, but he supposes it has something to do with Yoongi. Curse him, he thinks. Fucking small little terrible gremlin.  

Ms. Hilford nods. She stares at them for a few seconds, not moving, until she claps her hands together and begins typing on her computer again. 

“I’m going to need statements from your family and friends. They’re going to need to come in for a personal interview. If their statements do not match up with yours, Seokjin, you’ll be deported, and Namjoon, you’ll be jailed. Understood?” 

“Oh, well,” Seokjin begins, “-that won’t work. My parents are in South Korea, and we don’t talk, and I’m an only child.” 

“Friends?” 

“Well seeing as how I just moved here-” 

Ms. Hilford turns towards Namjoon. “And you?” 

“I- yes? Yes, I have family and friends.” 

“Perfect. I need them here tomorrow, by noon.” 

Tomorrow?! Noon?! Fucking noon?! There’s no way, there’s absolutely no way-

“They live in-” Namjoon starts. Seokjin cuts him off. 

“We can’t-” 

“Are you telling me you can’t, Mr. Kims?” Ms. Hilford whips around in her horribly annoying spinning chair again. “So shall I just send for security now?” 

“No! No, we can, I was just saying that-” 

Think, Seokjin, think!

“We can’t, because we won’t actually be here tomorrow,” he glances at Namjoon. “Namjoon’s best friend is getting married this weekend, and we’ll be in attendance.” 

“I see,” Ms. Hilford looks even more skeptical now. 

“And my only friend that lives here will be there too. So really, it won’t work, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon says. 

“And where is this wedding taking place?” 

Seokjin clamps his mouth together shut. Fuck, he never even thought to ask.  

“Hawaii.” 

“Ha-” Seokjin sits up and glares at Namjoon. “Hawaii?!” 

Namjoon ignores him. “It’s where my family is from, Ms. Hilford. We’ll be there until Sunday.” 

“Monday, then,” Ms. Hilford turns to her computer again. “I don’t care, they can all come back on the plane with you, but I need them here by noon on Monday for me to file your legal forms.” 

Seokjin sobers up quickly. “Yes, of course. We’ll make it happen.” 

“And I’ll remind you again that if you’re lying, I have every right to throw you, Namjoon, in prison, and to ship you back to South Korea forever, Seokjin.” 

Seokjin gulps. He nods, trying to seem nonchalant about it. “No reason to do that. We’re very much in love.” 

Namjoon gags a little, and Seokjin kicks his ankle. 

“I’m sure you are,” Ms. Hilford says, voice monotone again. “I’ll clear you to fly, Mr. Kim. And I will see you both on Monday.” 

Seokjin nods. He waits for other instructions, perhaps they need to sign something, but nothing comes. Ms. Hilford tears her eyes away from her desktop and glares at them. 

“You may leave my office now.” 

“Right, right,” Seokjin says. He drops Namjoon’s hand as he stands from the chair, brushing himself off. “Thank you again.” 

“Mhm.” 

He and Namjoon walk out of the building in silence. Once they’ve gotten down the steps, and are headed to catch a cab, Namjoon’s punches Seokjin on the shoulder. 

“Ow!” Seokjin hollers, gripping his bicep. “What the fuck was that for?” 

“Beautiful? Really?”  

“Oh, you’re mad about that?” Seokjin yells. “You said I was an 80-year-old woman!” 

People are staring at them. Seokjin ignores them. 

“You are!” Namjoon tells him. “And really? You had to mention the wedding?”  

“Well, did you have any other ideas?!” Seokjin hisses. He knows that Namjoon didn’t, because if he did, he would’ve said something. Namjoon fumbles over his words, and Seokjin smirks. “See! I saved us in there!” 

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.” 

“At least you’re not getting dragged to some stranger’s wedding in Hawaii,” Seokjin says, “-since when did you live in Hawaii?!” 

“Since I was little!” Namjoon yells. “You’re the one that suggested it anyways! Now I have to drag you along and pretend we’re in love in front of my family and friends!” 

“Well, they’re the only people that are gonna be able to save our asses, so you better smile and play along, sweetheart!”  

Namjoon groans. He waves a cab over, and when it pulls up, passive aggressively opens the door for Seokjin. “You are literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Good!” 

Namjoon groans again. Seokjin scoots all the way over to the other side once he’s in the cab. 

“I don’t know why you’re so mad about this,” Seokjin says, “-you’re getting the better deal anyway. You get to go to the wedding, you get a promotion, I’m helping you start your music career.”  

“With a possible jail sentence looming over my head, yes, it’s perfect! Thank you, Kim Seokjin, however will I repay you?” 

Seokjin smacks him on his chest. 

The cab driver glances at them through his rear view mirror. He asks them where they’re headed, hesitantly. 

“The Chords building” they both yell at the same time. The driver doesn’t ask them anymore questions after that. Seokjin slumps down in his seat and sighs, crossing his arms so that he can pout. 

Should’ve seeked asylum in Canada, he thinks. 

-

Seokjin knows that Yoongi does not like mornings. He’s never grumpy, really, but he’s always very quiet until he can drown himself in enough coffee to keep him awake for the day. 

He’s had, at least to Seokjin’s knowledge, three grande cold brews from Starbucks. It should be enough to keep him up for weeks, so Seokjin doesn’t really know why he’s being glared at so passionately. 

“What?” he finally snaps. He, on the other hand, is grumpy. It’s six thirty in the morning, and there are too many people milling about for him to feel even remotely comfortable. 

He’s always hated airports. Today especially, it seems. 

“Why are you here?” Yoongi finally grumbles, his voice low and raspy. He sips at his drink, and then glares at Namjoon, but the younger has his headphones on and is dutifully ignoring the both of them. 

“Because,” Seokjin huffs out. “The USCIS lady said that our friends and family needed to come in and testify today, or whatever, so we told her we would be out of town at the wedding all weekend.” 

Yoongi pops off the straw, and then sighs. “You didn’t have to come.” 

And Seokjin thought about it. He thought about staying at home, and then dealing with it all when Namjoon got back. Thought about creating a storyline and sending it to Namjoon through email so that his people back home could learn their scripts and be prepared come Monday afternoon. Thought about it a lot, actually, because Hawaii and weddings sound nothing short of a nightmare to him.

But in the end, he decided that this would just be easier. He has more control over the situation if he’s present, anyway. And plus, the government’s probably got his entire apartment complex bugged by now. 

“Well, I’m here now,” he says, ignoring the irritated look on Yoongi’s face. They’re supposed to be friends. “So just play along, please.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares at Seokjin, as if he’s assessing the situation. Then, very slowly, he says, “-so you expect me to lie to everyone too?” 

“Yes,” Seokjin nods, because it isn’t even a question. If Yoongi isn’t on board, then no one can be on board. “Yes, Yoongi, you have too.” 

“Hm,” Yoongi muses. He finishes off the rest of his drink, before tossing the cup in a trashcan a few feet away. “How do you suspect you’re going to pull this off, hyung?” 

“We’ll come up with a story,” Seokjin says, because he’s been thinking about it all night and is nothing if not creative. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. We can just tell everyone that we decided not to say anything because I’m Namjoon’s boss.” 

“That’s such a cliche,” Yoongi snorts. “No one is going to believe that.” He stands up from his chair and takes his wallet out of his backpack. “I’m going to get another coffee. Want anything?” 

Seokjin scowls. “No,” and then- “I hope you shit yourself from excess caffeine intake.” 

“Whatever, hyung,” Yoongi grunts, and then he’s walking off, and Seokjin’s left to stew by himself in his uncomfortable airport chair. 

They end up being squished into a row smack dab in the middle of the plane, in line with the emergency exit doors so that Namjoon can have more leg room. Seokjin hasn’t flown economy in years; he grumbles the entire time they’re boarding the flight, and then even more so when he’s thrown down into the middle seat. 

Yoongi takes the window seat. He puts on his headphones before any of them even have their seatbelts on. 

The flight from JFK to Honolulu is eleven hours long. Seokjin assumes that Namjoon’s family lives on the island, but when he asks, Namjoon says-

“No, my dad is picking us up and then flying us to Kauai.” 

-and he blanches. 

“What?” he spits out, eyes wild. “Your dad?”  

“Well, my step dad, but yes,” Namjoon tells him, his eyebrows drawn in. He kicks his legs out and then fastens his seatbelt across his torso. 

“Your dad can fly planes?” Seokjin asks, bewildered. He, admittedly, knows very little about Namjoon’s home life. These next eleven hours are going to be very important. 

Namjoon nods. A flight attendant walks by to see if they’re settled in okay, and he gives her a thumbs up. 

“He’s an aerial archaeologist,” he says, “-and he has his pilot's license.” 

“And they just let him fly in and out of an international airport whenever he feels like it?” Seokjin buckles his own seat belt together, and then bends down to pick up his neck pillow. He’s not planning on sleeping much, but he doesn’t want his neck to get stiff while he sits and does, essentially, nothing for half a day. 

“He works for the University of Hawaii, so they let him use their airstrip whenever he wants,” Namjoon explains to him. He pulls something out of his backpack and sets it on his lap. Seokjin is about to ask him more about his dad, but then he sees that the thing on Namjoon’s lap is actually a binder and-

“What the hell is that?” 

“Questions,” Namjoon says. He pulls out a pen and then flips the binder open. Seokjin scans down the front page, reading words like favorite color and allergies. He looks back up at Namjoon, horrified, and glares. 

“Are we playing twenty one questions or something?” 

“Look,” Namjoon begins. He turns to Seokjin and sighs. “My life is on the line here, too. I don’t really want to go to jail. So yeah, we’re going to play a really long game of twenty one questions, and hopefully by the end of the flight we’ll be able to convince my entire family that we’re in love.” 

Seokjin gags at the word love. It’s what he wanted, sure, but hearing the word said out loud in this context is cringe-worthy. 

“So you had to bring a binder?” 

“I came up with all of these questions last night, and didn’t want to forget them,” Namjoon says. He rolls his eyes and then begins scanning down the list of questions. He stops on one, before he starts writing something down. “Question number thirteen: how are we in the mornings? Me: normal, fine. Seokjin-ssi: grumpy, a general nuisance.” 

“No,” Seokjin spits out. He bats Namjoon’s pen away. “Don’t call me Seokjin-ssi. That’s a dead giveaway. Just call me hyung.”  

“That makes me want to vomit,” Namjoon admits, but he crosses out Seokjin-ssi and writes down hyung instead. “Hyung.” 

“Don’t wear it out,” Seokjin groans. He immediately regrets it when Namjoon gives him the fakest smile he’s ever seen. 

“Okay, sweetums.” 

“Absolutely not.” Seokjin would rather die than have to endure pet names for an entire weekend. “Call me that again and I’ll throw you off the plane.” 

“Geez, fine,” Namjoon says, but he’s laughing. “Question number twenty four: pet names? Me: anything. Hyung: demon, but only in bed.” 

“I fucking hate you,” Seokjin mumbles. Namjoon’s laugh drowns him out. He assumes it’s going to be a very long flight. 

They don’t actually start asking each other questions until a couple of hours into the flight. Yoongi has been asleep for at least an hour when Namjoon finally looks up from writing in his binder, and the only reason Seokjin hasn’t interrupted him is because he figured that if the younger needed him, he’d say something. 

“So,” Namjoon slips his pen behind his ear and Seokjin hates it, “-what do you think are the most important things to know?” 

“Who’s freaking wedding I’m going to, for one,” Seokjin tells him, because he still doesn’t know. He tried to look on Namjoon’s social media accounts last night, when he couldn’t sleep because of his anxiety, but nothing came up because Namjoon is a hermit and never posts anything. “And probably about your family. It’s going to be obvious if I don’t know what I’m walking into.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Namjoon closes his binder and crosses one leg over the other. Seokjin is glad they got the emergency exit aisle, because otherwise Namjoon would be kicking the people in front of them. “The friends getting married are Taehyung and Jimin. They’ve been together since they were fourteen.”

“Jesus christ,” Seokjin mutters. He can’t imagine staying with someone for that long, the thought actually kind of terrifies him. “How old are they now?” 

“They’re both twenty three,” Namjoon tells him. “Jimin is, ironically, a wedding planner, and Taehyung is a volcanologist.” 

“I don’t know what that word means,” Seokjin says, but he doesn’t give Namjoon a chance to explain before he’s saying- “how did you all end up in Hawaii, anyway?” 

“My mom and I moved here when I was ten. She’s an environmental archaeologist, and met my step dad on a dig. They got married when I was fifteen.” Seokjin wants to ask about Namjoon’s actual dad, but figures it’s probably not his place, even though it’s something a significant other should know. “I have a step brother. His name is Jungkook, he’s twenty three.” 

“So how did this Jimin and Taehyung meet?” Seokjin asks. He thinks he’s got Namjoon’s family down; mom, dad, little step brother. Easy enough to remember. 

“Oh, uh,” Namjoon snorts a little, “-online, actually. They’ve been playing video games together since they were little. Them and uh, Jungkook. Taehyung moved here from Korea after he graduated college because, you know, volcanology.” 

“I still don’t know what that means,” Seokjin. Namjoon opens his mouth to explain again, probably, but Seokjin waves him off once more. “So you’ve always known Jimin? Is he your friend?” 

“I mean, yeah. We’re all friends. His dad is my step dad’s colleague, so we’ve known him since then. He and Jungkook have always lived in Kauai.” 

Seokjin nods. Okay, so, they’re all friends. Jungkook and Jimin are probably best friends, Taehyung and Jimin met the nerdy way. “Anyone else I should know about?” 

“Hobi-hyung!” Namjoon exclaims. “Or, uh, Hoseok, but he’s not your hyung. He came with Taehyung, from South Korea, when Taehyung visited when he was, like, eighteen, and then he just never left.” 

Hm. Seokjin wrinkles his nose. “Is he, like, weird?”

“No,” Namjoon glares at him, “-he’s my best friend.” 

“Well that would’ve been nice to know,” Seokjin scoffs. “What does he do? What is he like? He’s going to hate me, isn’t he?” 

“Probably,” Namjoon laughs. “He surfs, sometimes he teaches lessons. He just kind of does whatever. He lived with my parents for at least a year after I left.” 

Seokjin has never had a friend like that. He looks at Namjoon, hesitantly. “Is that it?” 

Namjoon shrugs. “I guess so. Everyone else you’ll meet once we’re there, it’s not really a big deal.” 

“And what about Yoongi?” He nudges the sleeping form on his left. “How does he fit into all of this?” 

“Last summer Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, and Hobi-hyung all came up to visit me for a few weeks. I don’t know, Yoongi-hyung just clicked with everyone. He and Jungkook are really close.” 

So it’s just a large group of really close friends, and a tight-knit family support system. Great. Seokjin doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to pull this off. He’s generally pretty good with the whole meeting-the-parents thing, but this is a unique situation, and they’re totally blindsiding everyone with this. 

“So, that’s about it,” Namjoon finishes. It’s a lot of information, and Seokjin starts mentally mapping it out to commit it to memory. “What about your family and friends?” 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, not wanting to think about it, “-you don’t need to worry about that.” 

“Um, I just told you practically my entire life’s story,” Namjoon counters. He folds his arms across his chest. “It goes both ways.” 

“It doesn’t,” Seokjin argues. He glares at Namjoon, and he knows he’s being unfair, kind of, but Namjoon really doesn't need to know. “I don’t talk to anyone back home, and I haven’t met a lot of people since I moved here. That’s all you, or your family, need to know.”

There’s a sense of finality to his voice that he thinks Namjoon picks up on. The younger huffs, but doesn’t ask anymore questions, and instead pulls his binder back into his lap. 

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. “Question one: what are your thoughts on having children?” 

What feels like an eternity of answering mindless questions later, they finally touch down in Honolulu. Seokjin is exhausted, and his entire body is stiff, but because of the time difference, they have an entire day ahead of them. 

He realizes this as he’s walking off of the plane and finds that it’s not actually getting dark out through the windows like he thought it would be. He checks his phone, once he’s taken it off of airplane mode, and sees that it’s only one in the afternoon.

He groans, and looks at Namjoon. 

“Where are we supposed to get on our next plane?” 

“My dad should be waiting for us at the gate,” he says. He’s walking through the tunnel a little quicker than he normally moves, and Seokjin would be annoyed with how fast he’s going if he didn’t find it almost endearing.  

Even Yoongi is smiling. Seokjin wonders what he’s gotten himself into. 

The airport isn’t as crowded as Seokjin expected it to be when he walks out of the tunnel and into the gate. There aren’t that many people walking around, or waiting, so he suspects that it’ll be easy to find Namjoon’s dad. 

He’s proven right when, before his feet have been on solid ground for more than thirty seconds, someone is calling their names. 

Or, Namjoon and Yoongi’s names. And then-

“Who do we have here?” 

“Appa!” Namjoon says, ignoring the question. He embraces his father, and then pulls away so that Yoongi can hug him, too. “It’s good to see you.” 

“We missed you,” the older man tells his son. He pats at Yoongi’s head, however, and Seokjin watches, bemused, as Yoongi’s face pinches together. “Who’s your friend?” 

“You know Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s father glares at him. “I meant your plus one. I didn’t know either of you were bringing one.” 

“Oh, no, Abeoji,” Yoongi says and Seokjin nearly screams at the word abeoji because oh my god these people are actually close, “-he’s not mine.” 

“Ah,” the man turns to Namjoon, his eyebrow raised, “-well?” 

“Ah, uh,” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair. He turns and looks at Seokjin, and Seokjin jerks his head like say something, you idiot. “This is Seokjin.”

Namjoon’s father rounds on him, and Seokjin suddenly panics because he never even asked for names, what is he supposed to do? “Nice to meet you, Seokjin.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, um, Ajeossi,” Seokjin says. He hates how his voice shakes. Do better, you’re not this weak, he tells himself. 

“Oh, please,” Namjoon’s father laughs, waving his hand, “-call me Sanghoon.” 

“Okay,” Seokjin mumbles. He wants to say no, absolutely not, that’s so impolite but, well. He smiles weakly. 

“Are you a friend, or…” Sanghoon asks then. He looks back and forth between Namjoon and Seokjin, almost like he’s confused. Seokjin freezes, and comes to the horrifying realization that oh god Namjoon hasn’t come out to his family yet fuck what are we supposed to do now I thought they knew do they not know oh my god-

“He’smyfiance.” 

Seokjin just barely understands what Namjoon says. He keeps his eyes trained on a particularly interesting stain in the dingy airport carpet, refusing to look up. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, he thinks, or maybe it was, he doesn’t know what he expected but suddenly this is entirely awkward and he wants to go home.  

“Say that again?” Sanghoon doesn’t sound angry, at least, but he definitely heard what Namjoon said. “Your who?”  

“My, uh,” there’s a hand on Seokjin’s waist and when he looks up he just barely holds back a glare because Namjoon is not supposed to do that, “-fiance? Seokjin-hyung is my, uh, my fiance.” Namjoon laughs a little, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard to Seokjin’s ears. “Surprise?” 

“Your…” Seokjin chances a look at Namjoon’s dad, finds him already staring at him, quizzically even, “-fiance. Since when?” 

“Since not that long ago,” Namjoon’s voice is shaking, “-um, last weekend. And I wanted to tell you in person! So, um, yeah. That’s why I didn’t say anything.” 

“Right.” His dad doesn’t sound convinced. Seokjin supposes he wouldn’t be either. “We didn’t even know you were dating, though.” 

He looks disappointed, and Seokjin doesn’t really know what to do about that. He hopes it’s just because his son has kept something so significant from him, and not because Seokjin is a man. Namjoon hadn’t said anything about his family and their views on his sexual orientation, and he thinks that if it was going to be a problem, the younger would’ve told him. Or at least, he had hoped. 

“It was, um, complicated,” Namjoon mumbles. He drops his hand from Seokjin’s waist. “Can we talk about it at home? You know, with mom and everyone.” 

Everyone. Seokjin tenses. 

“Yes, yes, of course.” Sanghoon claps Namjoon on the shoulder and the smile he gives him is a little bit reassuring. He then turns it on Seokjin, says, “-nonetheless, welcome to Hawaii, Seokjin. We’re happy to have you.” 

“Thank you,” Seokjin squeaks. He hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels, knows that it most likely is, and swallows all of his pride. 

Forty minutes of hell on a tiny, compact plane later, and Seokjin finds himself climbing down a set of rickety stairs to the ground of Kauai. 

He feels like a baby giraffe. A baby giraffe, with broken legs, and backwards knees. His entire body hurts. He just feels lucky to be alive. 

He knew that they wouldn’t be on a normal plane on the ride over from Honolulu, but he hadn’t expected the near death experience he’s just endured. He felt like they were one second away from dropping out of the air the entire trip. He will be swimming across the ocean back to Honolulu, if that’s what it takes. Namjoon’s father is very kind, but Seokjin will not be getting back in a plane with him ever again. 

Namjoon must pick up on this, because after they’ve retrieved their bags from beneath the plane, he takes one look at Seokjin’s face and busts out into laughter. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Seokjin hisses. He hoists one of his bags over his shoulder, dragging the other behind him angrily. Sanghoon is walking ahead of them, talking with Yoongi, so he doesn’t try to hide his irritation. “I almost died, and you’re making fun of me?” 

“That was one of the smoother rides I’ve been on with him,” Namjoon snorts. He takes pity on Seokjin and grabs the bag he’s dragging behind him, swinging it easily over his free shoulder. Seokjin tries not to read into it. “You need to get out more, hyung.” 

Seokjin grimaces. “Can we drive back next time?” 

“What, on the seafloor?” 

“Is there not a bridge?” 

“No, there’s not a bridge,” Namjoon laughs. He shakes his head, and then nods towards his dad and Yoongi, who are approaching a pick up truck. “Come on, or they’ll leave us.” 

“Maybe I want them to,” Seokjin grumbles, though he follows along anyway, begrudgingly. 

Turns out, Kauai is not as big as Seokjin had originally imagined. He had expected it to take hours to get from the airport to wherever Namjoon lives. Instead, they spend a few minutes throwing their bags into the back of the truck and finding seats (Yoongi takes the front, which means that Namjoon and Seokjin have to squish into the back bench despite the fact that they’re both big and Yoongi is, well, not), before heading north, traveling less than an hour until they arrive at a long gravel driveway.

Seokjin also didn’t expect Namjoon’s childhood home to look like it was from a spread out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. He knew Hawaii was a beautiful place; he’s never been before, but the photos he’s seen indicate that it really is picturesque. He just never expected Namjoon to live on some kind of resort.  

Seokjin’s been surprised by a lot of things so far. He hopes it stops at this. 

After waiting until both Sanghoon and Yoongi have exited the vehicle, Seokjin slaps Namjoon hard on the arm. “You never told me you lived in a beachfront mansion.” 

“Ow!” Namjoon exclaims. He rubs his arm, glaring at Seokjin. “I don’t. My parents do.” 

“Don’t be an ass,” Seokjin mutters, “-first your dad is a pilot, now you’re rich? Is your mom famous or something, too?” 

“No,” Namjoon scoffs. He moves to open the door and get out, but Seokjin reaches over and stops his hand. 

“Seriously, Namjoon. I feel like an idiot. Is there anything else-” 

He doesn’t get to finish. He was going to say ‘is there anything else I’m going to be blindsided by’, because really, he’s pretty sure his face is giving everything away right now, but instead Namjoon’s door is thrown open and suddenly someone is screaming in their faces. 

“YOUR DAD JUST SAID THAT YOU BROUGHT HOME A FIANCE? SINCE WHEN THE FUCK WERE YOU EVEN DATING ANYONE?” 

Seokjin looks up and is met with the face of a man that looks around their age. He’s got a long face, and shaggy, dark brown hair. Seokjin thinks I hope all of Namjoon’s friends aren’t handsome like this and then- 

Namjoon groans. He pushes the man out of the doorway and hops down from the truck, but the minute his feet hit the ground he wraps the other in a hug and smiles. 

“Nice to see you too, Hobi-hyung.” 

Oh, fuck. The best friend. Seokjin gulps and gets out on his own side. 

He walks around to the back of the truck, where Yoongi and Sanghoon are unloading all of their bags. Seokjin picks his up, and then after thinking about it, decides that a loving fiance would carry their partner’s bags if they were busy. Except Namjoon has apparently packed bricks, and that’s how the younger finds Seokjin a few moments later: struggling to lift the bag amongst his own, looking, genuinely, like a nightmare of a human being. 

“Oh, wow. He looks like a dream, Joon-ah.” 

Seokjin drops the offending bag to look up and glare at Namjoon’s Hobi-hyung. The other laughs and holds his hands up in defense, before stepping forward and holding one out in greeting. 

“I’m kidding. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Hoseok.” 

Seokjin sighs. He stands, straightening his back, and then takes the outstretched hand. “Hi. I’m Seokjin.” 

They shake hands, and then Hoseok pulls back and looks up at Namjoon. “His hands are soft, at least,” he says, and Namjoon snorts before shaking his head fondly and bending down to pick up his bag. Seokjin wonders what was said between them back at the truck, but neither of them address him again so he doesn’t push it. He’s about to start following behind Yoongi and Sanghoon, who are walking towards the house now, still immersed in conversation, but then Namjoon reaches down and tangles their fingers together and he falters. 

“Play along,” Namjoon mumbles against his ear, suddenly very close, and then he kisses Seokjin’s cheek. Seokjin wills his blush to go away, this should be normal you guys are engaged you kiss all the time pretend pretend pretend but he can’t help it, he’s flustered. But he goes along with it, lets Namjoon pull him towards his home for show, and doesn’t let go, not even when a woman steps out of the house and bounds down the front steps towards them. 

“Namjoon!” she calls, and Seokjin thinks that this is probably the mother. Most likely, because she looks almost entirely like Namjoon, dimples and all. And then, “-who is that?” 

Seokjin can’t imagine his own family ever being this blunt about anything. Then again, he would never put himself in a situation like this around them, so who knows. Everyone here is just very straightforward, and Seokjin doesn’t know whether he likes it or not.

“Eomma,” Namjoon mumbles once they’re close enough, dropping Seokjin’s hand so that he can hug his mother. Seokjin stands behind them politely, a little uncomfortable, feeling like a total outsider. He is, but he’s not used to it; people usually gravitate towards him, and even if he doesn’t have many friends here yet, he always has someone to talk to, someone to make the situation a little less awkward. He folds his hands in front of him and tries not to stare as Namjoon buries his face in his mother’s neck and holds on tight. It pulls a little at Seokjin’s heart-strings; he tries to tamper down on that quickly. 

“Hi, my love,” she says, and then pulls away from the hug before turning her attention on Seokjin. “Hello.” 

“Oh, um,” Seokjin stands up a little straighter, “-hi. I’m Kim Seokjin, it’s nice to finally meet you. Namjoon-ah talks about you a lot.” He throws on his best smile, and hopes it look convincing.

“Well I would hope so,” his mother says, and then she breaks out into a wide grin. “Kim Seokjin. I can’t say I’ve heard that name before.” 

Well, Seokjin thinks, at least Namjoon isn’t talking bad about me to his family. He’s not sure how he would’ve handled that. 

“Are you a friend of my son?” 

“Eomma,” Namjoon says, and both his mom and Seokjin turn their attention on him. “Um, I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but, well.” Namjoon takes a deep breath. Seokjin honestly does feel a little bad for him. This is the third time now he’s had to do this, and he’ll likely have to do it half a dozen more times after this. “Seokjin-hyung is, uh, my fiance. We’re engaged.” 

“You’re-” Namjoon’s mom pauses. She looks between her son and Seokjin, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in question, and then says, “I do not believe that for one second.” 

Both of them are rendered speechless. Seokjin looks up at Namjoon, panics, and then Namjoon runs a hand down his face and groans. 

“Eomma, please,” he mutters. He grabs Seokjin’s hand again and Seokjin thinks that’s a little bit overkill but he doesn’t pull it away. “It’s...complicated. Seokjin-hyung is my boss, and we both could’ve gotten in trouble if HR found out, so we kept it a secret from everyone. Not even Yoongi-hyung knew until we showed up at the airport together.” 

“I just can’t believe my baby didn’t tell me about his fiance,” Namjoon’s mother almost whines, and Seokjin realizes the situation is not as serious as he had thought. He almost sighs in relief, but stops himself, instead forcing the smile back on his face. “Will you not get in trouble now?” 

“Well, no, as I’m getting promoted-”

“You’re what?!” Namjoon’s mother nearly screeches. She turns around and yells at her husband, who’s standing on the front porch, still talking with Yoongi. “Sanghoon! He got a promotion!” 

“A promotion?!” Sanghoon calls back. The absolute delight that spreads across his face has Seokjin’s forced smile turning into a real one very quickly. He decides he likes Namjoon’s family, despite the initial awkwardness and discomfort at arrival. They seem like sweet, genuine people, and that’s not something Seokjin is used to. 

He squeezes Namjoon’s hand. Namjoon looks down at him and smiles, and it’s not horrible. 

“Don’t tell me anymore,” Namjoon’s mom says, pulling their attention back to her. She waves her hands, frantic, like she doesn’t know what to do with them. “Call my kids, tell them to come over for a late lunch slash early dinner. We’re going to have a proper discussion about this, and you two are going to tell me everything.”

Namjoon laughs. He nods, as he follows behind his mother heading back up to the house, tugging Seokjin behind him. Seokjin nudges him when they’re out of earshot and when the younger leans down he asks, “-she has more kids?” 

“No,” Namjoon snorts, “she’s talking about Jimin and Taehyung.” 

“Oh.” Seokjin swallows down his protests at meeting more people; he feels as if he’s met his socialization quota for the day, but he’s not going to complain. 

“It’ll be fine,” Namjoon reassures him. He pulls him up the stairs at the front of his house. “They’re nice.” 

Namjoon is wrong. Jimin and Taehyung are not nice. 

The minute they entered the house, Namjoon’s mother had drug them up the stairs of the grand motherfucking foyer Seokjin has never seen anything like it, and then showed them their room for the weekend. It had been Namjoon’s room as a child, but was transformed into a tasteful guest bedroom when he moved away. Seokjin’s not sure why he ever thought they’d be given separate rooms, but he thinks he does a good job masking his surprise when he sees the single bed in the middle of the room. Namjoon’s mother thinks nothing of it; the minute she leaves the room, however, Namjoon claims the left side and says that if Seokjin touches him in his sleep he’ll kick him to the ground. 

So much for the kind Namjoon Seokjin was slowly getting accustomed to, he thinks. 

Anyway, now he’s sitting on a small couch, across from this Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin can genuinely say that he’s never encountered so much judgement before in his entire life. Not even the USCIS lady had been this bad, and she was downright terrifying. 

“So,” the one Seokjin has come to know as Jimin says, “-you’re hyung’s fiance?”

“Um, yes,” Seokjin gulps. He should not be intimidated by these people. Jimin has bright pink hair, and Taehyung’s is blue, and they’re both very handsome and Taehyung is very tall and Jimin is not, but he should not be intimidated by them. “I am. Yes.” 

“You sound in pain,” Jimin points out. I am, Seokjin wants to say, but he just sighs. “This is almost as bad as someone proposing at our reception. I feel cheated out of my own wedding.” 

“Oh,” Seokjin says, and he never considered it like that. Now he feels bad. “I’m so sorry, that was never our intention, Namjoon just wanted to tell you all in person and-” 

“I’m not mad,” Jimin cuts him off. He has a wicked grin on his face and Seokjin quickly shuts up. “I find this all very amusing. I think we all just assumed Namjoon was going to marry some nice girl and get a dog and have a few kids, you know, the whole American Dream thing.”

“Right.” Seokjin bites down on his cheek. Do they know the same Namjoon? He never would’ve pictured the younger as an American Dad type of guy. “Well still, I apologize. It’s not an ideal situation, I know.” 

“I think what Jimin is trying to say,” Taehyung pipes up, looking at Jimin out of the corner of his eye, “-is just that no one expected this. It’s not a bad thing, we’re happy you’re here. You didn’t ruin our wedding, don’t worry.” 

Seokjin smiles, if only a little. He likes Taehyung better, he decides. And the blue is cooler anyway. Jimin is a brat. 

He’s rescued a few minutes later when Namjoon walks back into the living room with two beers in his grip. He hands one to Seokjin and then sits down next to him, their thighs squishing together on the tiny couch. Seokjin wasn’t planning on drinking, doesn’t really want to anyway, but thinks he needs it if he’s going to get through the rest of this night. 

“Are you being mean to him, Jimin-ah?” Namjoon asks, taking a sip of his own beer. He adjusts himself on the couch, and then throws an arm on the back of it, effectively caging Seokjin in. Seokjin doesn’t think he’s aware that he’s doing it, but Seokjin is, and he blushes. 

He hates how easy he fucking blushes. 

“No,” Jimin scoffs. “Just saying how I think it’s convenient how you brought home a fiance on our wedding weekend.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and apparently he doesn’t feel as bad about it as Seokjin does. 

“Makes up for the time my mom and dad caught you sucking Tae’s dick during my graduation dinner.” 

Seokjin splutters, choking on the drink he’s just taken. Namjoon pats him on the back a few times and okay, maybe he is aware of the arm placement. Seokjin regroups and clears his throat and looks up at both Jimin and Taehyung, expecting them to look at least a little embarrassed, but they’re both just smirking like they’re proud.  

“I suppose it does,” Jimin says, matter of fact. “Please don’t let us catch you in any sexual acts during the wedding, though. My mom’s not as cool as yours.” 

Namjoon laughs, like it’s nothing. Seokjin doesn’t think it’s nothing. He’s uncomfortable, but he figures he’s just going to have to suck it up. This is what normal couples do. They joke about their sex lives. They laugh along with their friends. 

He’s beginning to think that he signed up for way more than he ever expected. 

Namjoon’s mother must have been cooking all day already, because before long they’re all being called into the dining room, dinner ready and spread out on their large table. It’s an array of traditional Korean foods and Seokjin nearly cries at the sight of it; he hasn’t had home cooked Korean food in so long. 

He takes a seat at one end of the table, between Namjoon and Yoongi, across from Jimin. He notices that one chair is left unoccupied, and suddenly remembers the brother. 

Yoongi must notice it too, because once they’re all seated and have started passing dishes around, he asks, “-where’s Jungkook?” 

Namjoon’s mother perks up at the mention of her other son as she passes a bowl of gaji bokkeum to Taehyung. “He should be home any minute. He’s been at work all week long, getting his classroom ready.” 

Yoongi freezes, his hand stilling midway to his mouth with rice falling from the chopsticks. “He- he got the job?” 

“Yes! He didn’t tell you? He found out last week, and started meetings this past Monday.” 

“No, he didn’t tell me,” Yoongi says quietly, and then he doesn’t say anything else, and Seokjin wonders what that’s all about.

He doesn’t have to wonder for long, though, because while he’s spooning out jjajangmyeon onto his plate, someone walks into the dining room and the table lights up. 

“Namjoon-ah!” the voice of the newcomer calls, and Seokjin barely has any time to register what’s happening before someone is throwing themselves into Namjoon, nearly knocking their plates and water glasses over. 

“Hi, Kook-ah,” Namjoon laughs, engulfing his brother in a tight hug. When they pull apart, Seokjin sees a young face with wide, round doe eyes and probably the cutest button nose ever and he suddenly understands why Namjoon facetimes the kid about three times a day. He’s adorable. 

“Hyung, you’ll never believe-” Jungkook stops when he notices Seokjin. “Um. Hello?” 

“Hi,” Seokjin squeaks. His chopsticks are still frozen mid-air. He glances at Namjoon, eyes probably panicky, and Namjoon takes pity on him by placing his hand on his knee and turning towards his brother. 

“Jungkook-ah, why don’t you sit down?” 

Seokjin doesn’t know why he had to announce it like that. It makes it seem like he’s about to announce a death, or something. He grimaces and turns back to the noodles. 

“O-kay,” Jungkook drawls out. The only seat left is next to Yoongi, so Jungkook makes his way there, running his hands through the older’s hair and muttering a small hey, hyung before sitting down. Yoongi’s face turns bright red, almost embarrassingly so, and no one else seems to notice, or maybe they’re just used to it, but Seokjin sure isn’t and he’s fucking ecstatic.  

He smirks at Yoongi, and Yoongi catches his eye. He makes a face and Seokjin thinks everyone probably hasn’t picked up on it, judging by the reaction, which just makes it all the more hilarious. He’s suddenly very glad he came on this trip, if only to witness this masterpiece unfolding before his eyes. 

Seokjin knows absolutely nothing about Jungkook but he can’t wait to ask Yoongi about him. 

“So, what’s going on?” Jungkook asks then. He immediately digs into the food, stacking piles upon piles onto his plate while everyone else digs into their own. Namjoon lets him get settled before he says anything, keeping his hand on Seokjin’s knee like it’s some kind of comfort for him. That, or he’s just trying to be convincing. Seokjin’s okay with either. He’s doing just fine at acting so far. 

“Your brother is getting married,” Namjoon’s mother announces for them, and Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at her like, really mom? Jungkook falters, his chopsticks slipping in his hands, but he doesn’t say anything. Just stares at Namjoon, waiting for more. 

“Well,” Namjoon sighs. “Yeah, I guess. This is Seokjin-hyung, he and I are engaged.” 

“You never told me about any of this,” Jungkook says. He looks like he doesn’t believe him, says, “-I don’t believe you.” 

Their mother reaches over and holds out a hand, and Jungkook hi-fives it. Seokjin has never seen a family dynamic like this, he doesn’t know what to do. 

“That’s what I said.” 

“You would’ve told me,” Jungkook scrunches his nose up, then looks over at Yoongi. They seem to have some kind of silent conversation, eyebrows moving, until Jungkook turns back to Namjoon and frowns. 

“Like I told mom, it’s complicated,” Namjoon rushes to say. He takes his hand off of Seokjin’s knee and grabs his chopsticks again. “He’s my boss, and, you know, it could get us in trouble.” 

“So you kept it from your family that lives thousands of miles away?” 

Seokjin cringes. It’s really dumb, their excuse is not believable in the slightest bit, they should’ve worked something else out, why the hell did they spend the entire plane ride talking about favorite foods and dogs and not this-

“It just, it’s new and-” 

“If it’s new then why are you already engaged?” Jungkook grills him. He almost looks mad, like he’s been betrayed by his brother, and Seokjin doesn’t have a brother so he has no idea what something like this would feel like, but he can imagine. He glances at Namjoon and finds him with his face pinched up, calculating. 

“We,” -Seokjin’s about to jump in and help, because he’s always been fairly good at storytelling- “look, guys. I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you earlier. I didn’t say anything because it was new and I didn’t want to jinx it, and also because we had to keep it a secret at work so I thought it would be easier to just keep it a secret from everyone.

“And then suddenly it wasn’t new, and I realized I loved him, and one thing led to another and then I realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and it was a spontaneous thing, I asked him during dinner last weekend, see, we don’t even have rings yet,” he points to his hand, then gestures towards Seokjin’s, “-and I just decided that it wasn’t anyone else’s business, it was just something for us, but I want you guys to love him too, now, and I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m not.” 

Namjoon takes a deep breath, and then he’s done. Seokjin hasn’t lifted his gaze from his very interesting plate of food but when he hears a sniffle he does, and finds that Namjoon’s mother is crying, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not but Namjoon mumbles a small “oh, eomma”, and then he’s out of his chair and walking to the other side of the table in order to hug her and it’s all just very overwhelming. 

Seokjin looks to his right. Yoongi doesn’t look fazed, because he’s in on it, of course, but Jungkook’s mouth is dropped wide open, and his eyes are a little red-rimmed. Seokjin hopes he won’t cry because why the fuck would he. Their mother tearing up is bad enough. 

“I’m happy for you, Joon-ah,” she says, drawing Seokjin’s attention back to that side of the table. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I was just surprised. I just thought… Well, that doesn’t matter now.” Seokjin wonders what she means by that. “You’re all grown up, moved away from home and everything, and if you’re happy, I’m happy.” 

Namjoon nods in understanding. He hugs his mom once more, kisses her forehead, and then comes back to his seat. He takes Seokjin’s hand and laces their fingers together, before resting them on top of the table. 

“I am sorry that I sprung it all on you like this, though. I wish I could’ve told you sooner, but it’s not something I feel like should be announced over a call or text, you know?” 

“I would’ve been more mad at you for that,” Jungkook grumbles. Seokjin glances over and smiles at the adorably irritated look on his face. 

“I figured,” Namjoon snorts. He’s doing a lot better with this than Seokjin expected him to, if he’s being honest. Usually the man isn’t this...composed.

“Sweetheart,” Namjoon’s mother begins, while dabbing at her eyes with her dinner napkin. “If you love him, then I’m sure we will too. We’re happy for you two.” She pauses, and then slowly starts to smirk. “Now, tell me about my brilliant son’s big promotion.” 

Seokjin swallows the acid in his throat. He smiles, but removes his hand from Namjoon’s and goes back to his dinner, drowning out the rest of the conversation. 

Despite the fact that it’s working, he’s suddenly well aware of how much of a big, cruel joke this all is. 

Later that night, after they’ve had dessert and have sat and talked for awhile, and Jimin has warmed up to Seokjin a little, he and Namjoon head to bed. Yoongi heads to his room, Jungkook to his, Jimin and Taehyung back to their own house and Hoseok to the couch. The house is quiet and peaceful and it’s not late, only eight-thirty, but Seokjin is exhausted. Both mentally, and physically. 

He gets ready for bed in the bathroom, while Namjoon puts his pajamas on in the room. They switch spots, and Seokjin makes himself comfortable in the bed, squished all the way to the right side. He hopes he doesn’t fall off during the night, but supposes it’d be better than his foot accidentally touching Namjoon’s hairy leg. He’s covered from head to toe, in a matching velour pajama set and fuzzy socks, and he doesn’t know how Namjoon sleeps but-

Namjoon walks out in, well, very little. A pair of shorts, and that’s it. Seokjin scowls at him and doesn’t try to hide his disgust. 

“We have to sleep together, you know,” he mutters. Namjoon just rolls his eyes as he climbs into the bed, hitting the lights on the way. The room is dark, until he flips on a lamp on the bedside table. 

“It’s hot,” is all he offers. He props himself up against the headboard and pulls out a book from seemingly nowhere. “Mind if I read?” 

“You’re going to even if I say yes,” Seokjin sighs. He rolls over so that his back is facing the light, and it’s a little better then. He thinks he can fall asleep, even if he doesn’t have his white water sound machine and a fan blowing in his face. 

A little bit of time passes. Seokjin is tired, but it usually takes him a bit of time to fall asleep. He looks around the room, admires the curtains and the rug and the throw pillows at the end of the bed. He’s slipping into unconsciousness, eyes falling shut when Namjoon, annoyingly, speaks next. 

“Sorry if that was too much at dinner,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate, but Seokjin knows he’s talking about his impromptu speech. “I knew they wouldn’t back off if I didn’t do something dramatic.” 

“It was good,” Seokjin yawns. It wasn’t really that dramatic, he thinks he would’ve done worse. He rolls over and looks up at Namjoon. “At least they believe us.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “Jungkook doesn’t still, I think. But he’s always skeptical about everything.” 

“Well, he almost cried at dinner,” Seokjin offers. He knows the red-rimmed eyes hadn’t been for nothing. 

“He cries over everything,” Namjoon laughs. “It’ll be fine, though. He warms up to people quickly.” 

Seokjin hums. And then, “-are he and Yoongi together?” 

“Jungkook and Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon splutters. He puts his book down and snorts. “No, why would you think that?” 

Oh god, Seokjin thinks, they don’t know. It’s so obvious, at least that Yoongi is infatuated with the younger boy. But he just shrugs, because it isn’t his place. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “Jungkook just fluffed Yoongi’s hair when he walked by during dinner, and if I did that Yoongi would have my hands chopped off and hung in the office as decoration.” 

Namjoon snorts again. He picks his book back up and shrugs. “Everyone's a little soft for Jungkook, hyung included. Nothing’s going on there, don’t worry.” 

Seokjin isn’t, but he nods anyway. He rolls back over onto his side. “Do we have to get up early?” 

“Not that I know of,” Namjoon tells him. “We’re going to a club tomorrow night, though. Jimin and Taehyung didn’t want to do separate bachelor parties, but they still wanted to do something, so we’ll have to go out. Other than that, we’re just hanging out all day.” 

Perfect, Seokjin thinks. He can relax and recover from the whirlwind of events that happened today. 

“Well, wake me if it’s going on noon and I’m still asleep,” Seokjin tells him. He clutches a pillow under his arm and closes his eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, hyung,” Namjoon chuckles. He doesn’t turn off the lamp for another thirty minutes, but by that time Seokjin is long gone. 

Chapter Text

“Wake up.” 

It’s not Namjoon’s voice. Seokjin was already half awake anyway, laying in bed with his eyes closed as he processed the sun shining across his forehead and the fact that he was, well, awake. But that is not Namjoon’s voice; he’s coherent enough to at least know that. 

He blinks his eyes open slowly. He’s faced towards the door and can just barely make out a blurry Min Yoongi standing on the threshold. Which really isn’t that surprising; if it’s not Namjoon waking up, Seokjin would have expected it to be Yoongi. 

What is surprising, however, is Jeon Jungkook standing next to him. 

“Mmfph,” Seokjin mumbles unintelligibly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he yawns. There’s a clock on the table next to Namjoon’s side of the bed, and when he glances at it he finds that it’s only ten thirty in the morning. He frowns. “What?” 

“Good morning!” Jungkook greets him. He looks like he likes Seokjin a lot more than he did last night, if the smile on his face is anything to go by. He’s got one hand resting on Yoongi’s shoulder, the other on his hip, and Yoongi is leaning against him like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. It’s quite a sight; Seokjin thinks, oh, there’s definitely something going on there. “Get up, we’d like to take you to lunch,”

“At ten thirty?” Seokjin grumbles. Resigned to the fact that he most likely will not be getting anymore sleep, he sits up and props himself against the headboard. “Where’s Namjoon?” 

He won’t admit aloud that he’s a little disappointed with Namjoon not being there; not for any specific reason, but just because without Namjoon, he has no sense of direction. There’s always Yoongi, but with the way the younger is currently staring (re: glaring) at him, Seokjin thinks that he is probably the last person he wants to hang out with right now. 

“Hyung went fishing with Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook tells him. Seokjin scowls; that wasn’t part of the plan, he thinks. Namjoon didn’t tell him. He didn’t have time to prepare. “Go get ready, Seokjin-ssi. We’re leaving at eleven.” 

Seokjin doesn’t really want to go to lunch with his fake-fiance’s younger brother and his petulant friend-slash-coworker, but he supposes it does beat sitting in a bed by himself all day long. Even though he’ll be going in blind, he thinks it won’t kill him. So he nods, and then waves Jungkook and Yoongi out, watching them until Yoongi shuts the door behind himself. When they’re gone he sighs and leans back against the headboard, and wonders if the rest of the trip is going to be unpredictable as this, or if he’ll eventually catch a break. 

A little while later, after Seokjin’s gotten in the shower and is dressed and mostly presentable, someone else bangs their way into the room. He assumes it’s just Jungkook again, coming to tell him that it’s time to go, and he’s ready to tell the younger off for not respecting his personal space but when he walks back into the bedroom from the bathroom he finds none other than Kim Namjoon, in all his tanned and shirtless-glory. 

It hits Seokjin like a brick to the face, then, that Namjoon is actually ridiculously attractive. Which, okay. He knew that. Namjoon has a nice face and Seokjin has to see it every single day, it would be ignorant of him to think that Namjoon wasn’t attractive. Seokjin has just never had to face this truth before, but there’s just a lot of arm going on right now and he’s very overwhelmed. 

“Um,” he clears his throat. Namjoon startles from where he’s digging something out of his suitcase, whipping around and immediately curling his arms around his torso. 

“Oh,” he says, face pink. Seokjin scrunches up his nose. “Uh, hello.” 

“Hi,” Seokjin says. “Jungkook said you went fishing.” 

“Yeah. Got up early and went, but I’m back now.” Namjoon picks a shirt out of his suitcase and quickly pulls it over his head. Seokjin dutifully ignores the arm.  

“Jungkook and Yoongi are taking me out to lunch,” Seokjin tells him, because it would be awkward to just stop talking now. “Um,” he glances at the clock, “-now, actually.” 

“Oh, okay,” Namjoon nods. “Do you want me to go with you guys?” 

Seokjin thinks about it. Does he? Not really, no. He thinks he...needs to be away from Namjoon right now. So he shakes his head. 

“No.” He walks towards his own suitcase and pulls out a pair of shoes. Slipping them on, he shrugs, “-I’ll be fine.” 

Namjoon snorts. “Good luck, then,” he says, and then disappears again, walking right out the door he just came through. Seokjin scowls in his direction but then stands, and he takes a moment to compose himself, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair before he heads the same way. 

He finds Jungkook and Yoongi in the living room. They’re sitting next to each other on one of the couches; Jungkook is showing Yoongi something on his phone, all up in his space, but when they notice Seokjin standing there they spring apart like they had been caught doing something inappropriate.  

Seokjin smirks. “I’m ready.” 

“‘Kay,” Yoongi mumbles, his face bright red. He ignores Seokjin’s gaze as stands up, and then Jungkook follows, and together they walk towards the front door. Seokjin follows behind them idly, paying more attention to the way Jungkook’s hand just casually bumps into Yoongi’s every time he swings it forward, until he looks up and-

“No,” he says, stopping right there in the middle of the driveway. Yoongi and Jungkook turn to look at him, both confused until Seokjin points at the vehicle sitting a few feet before him. “I’m not getting in that.” 

“It’s just a jeep,” Jungkook laughs. He’s right, it is just a jeep; but it’s a doorless jeep, with no top, and there’s barely a back bench and Seokjin shakes his head vehemently. Jungkook ignores him though, and swings himself up into the driver’s seat with ease. “Hop in, Seokjin-ssi.” 

Yoongi has already walked around and jumped into the passenger seat. Which means that Seokjin is stuck in the back, and he realizes belatedly that there isn’t a doorway for him to get through. He’s going to have to climb up and over the side in order to get in. 

He groans. At least Jungkook and Yoongi have the decency to look away as he struggles to lift himself into the back of the jeep. 

There are also no seatbelts, he finds, as Jungkook takes off down the road almost the minute his key is turned. It’s very much an off-road type of vehicle, Seokjin thinks, but for whatever reason they’re driving it on the main road like that’s normal. It’s not ideal. If Seokjin didn’t die on the plane, then he’s most definitely going to die in this car. 

The wind messes up his hair. He thinks he swallows at least three bugs. He can hardly see, because his eyes are so dry from the air blowing in his face. It’s not pretty. He’s not pretty. Luckily they only travel ten minutes or so, but it’s the longest ten minutes of Seokjin’s life, he thinks. 

They end up at a small strip of shops and restaurants in what looks to be the downtown area of their small town. Jungkook parks in a community lot and then they all climb out and head up the street, Jungkook leading the way, bouncing excitedly and pointing out things to Yoongi, mostly, though he does acknowledge Seokjin’s existence here and there. Seokjin wonders why they wanted him to come along, because he thinks this would be the perfect date opportunity for the two of them, but he doesn’t mention it. 

Eventually they end up in front of a sandwich shop. Jungkook pulls the door open and shoos Yoongi and Seokjin inside, trailing behind before leading them towards the front counter to order. He greets the girl at the cash register like he knows her, and Seokjin just barely holds back a snort when he notices Yoongi balling his hands up into fists at his side. But when Jungkook steps back from saying his hellos he places his hand on the small of Yoongi’s back and asks him what he wants, and Seokjin nearly coos.  

They all end up getting different things; he gets a fried chicken sandwich, Jungkook orders some weird local wrap, and Yoongi gets a salad, which surprising Seokjin entirely. Yoongi never eats salads.

(He doesn’t ask.)

He does pay though, because he’s the oldest and feels obligated. Jungkook puts up a weak fight but Seokjin shuts him down when he whips out his black card and hands it over to the cashier. 

“Oh, well, geez. You could’ve just told me you were rich,” Jungkook snorts. He grabs his cup from the counter, before walking away to join Yoongi at the drink machine. Seokjin smirks and takes his card back, foregoing the receipt and grabbing his own drink cup as he heads off in the direction of the other two. 

Their food is delivered to them as they’re sitting down; Seokjin grabs his plate and takes a seat on one side of the booth. Yoongi and Jungkook slide in together on the other side, and Seokjin notices that they’re sitting way closer than two people normally should. He decides he’s having so much fun with this, and thinks that maybe more meals with just the two wouldn’t be such a bad idea for the rest of the weekend. 

“So,” he begins, poking a straw into his lid, because no one has said anything since they’ve sat down and he’ll be damned if he lets this lunch become awkward, “-how long have you guys been together?” 

Maybe awkward isn’t the right word.

Yoongi splutters, expectedly. Jungkook turns bright red and won’t look Seokjin in the eye. Neither of them answer him and he chuckles. 

“Unless...you’re not?” 

“We, um, aren’t together?” Jungkook finally says, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he is Seokjin. 

“Oh,” Seokjin shrugs. Now that he has definite confirmation that they are together, at least in some sort of way- “that’s cool, too. Sorry for assuming.” He takes a bite of his sandwich. “This is really good. Nice pick, Jungkook.” 

Oh, things are definitely awkward now. But a good awkward, a chaotic kind of awkward. Seokjin loves it. 

Lunch is pretty quiet after that, Seokjin’s own doing. Jungkook says a few things, asks a couple of questions. At one point he tells Seokjin that he hates calling him Seokjin-ssi, and Seokjin laughs and tells him that he can call him hyung instead. Jungkook beams and Seokjin thinks fond and then no, don’t do that and then fuck it, the boy is cute.  

Jungkook announces, after they’re mostly done eating, that he needs to use the restroom. Seokjin waits until he’s positive the boy is out of earshot, and then he rounds on Yoongi and-

“You’re in love with him.” 

Yoongi groans, and then throws his face into his hands. “Oh god, is it that fucking obvious?” 

“It’s like you have a neon sign over your head blinking ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH JEON JUNGKOOK’,” Seokjin teases. “Except he has one, too, only with your name on it.” 

Yoongi scowls. “No, he doesn’t. It’s...not like that.” 

“It totally is,” Seokjin scoffs. He will not play a role in Yoongi’s pining, he doesn’t believe in that self-deprecating bullshit. 

“It’s not.” 

“Well, clearly something is there.” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “How did that even happen anyway?” 

Yoongi sighs. He pushes his plate away and slumps back against the booth. “When they came to visit last summer, uh, we hooked up.” 

“Jesus, Yoongi,” Seokjin laughs. “He’s a baby.”  

“He’s twenty three and we were all drunk and Namjoon went back to the hotel with everyone else because he could barely walk and Jungkook came back with me and it just kind of happened and then we just, you know, stayed in touch.” 

“I can’t believe you’re defiling one of your best friend’s baby brothers behind his back.” Seokjin finds all of this hilarious. He had no idea, none, and it’s so unlike Yoongi he’s almost hysterical. 

“Not, like, regularly,” Yoongi whines. “Hyung, stop laughing!” 

Seokjin can’t help it, he just can’t. He covers his mouth with his hand. “Tell me you didn’t sneak out with him last night after everyone else went to bed.” 

Yoongi’s face scrunches up like he’s in pain and Seokjin loses it all over again. 

“I,” but Yoongi stops, his face turning serious. He looks at something above Seokjin’s head and then says- “are you okay?” 

Suddenly Jungkook is there again, sliding back into the booth with a perturbed look on his face. 

“It smelt so bad in there,” he mumbles, shuddering. “I couldn’t do it. I’ll just have to hold it.” 

And Yoongi looks so fucking endeared Seokjin is almost jealous. 

After lunch Jungkook shows them around the small square, taking them into trendy shops and pointing out little landmarks he’s grown up knowing. At one point he starts up a conversation with Yoongi, and they’re so engrossed in the topic and Seokjin understands none of it so he decides to give them their space. He halfheartedly tells them that he’s going to pop into one of the shops, and then leaves, and he thinks they don’t even notice but it’s fine.  

The shop he pops into is more of a boutique; there are both men’s and women’s clothing, some accessories, and a lot of shoes. Seokjin only brought closed-toed shoes with him, for whatever reason, and he thinks that buying a pair of flip flops wouldn’t hurt. If they go down to the beach or something, he doesn’t want to walk around in tennis shoes. 

He finds a wall of fashionable looking sandals and heads towards it, stopping only when a girl steps in front of him and smiles. 

“Hi!” she says. She’s got long, blonde hair and looks like every VSCO girl he’s ever happened upon (he’s cultured in memes, thank you very much). “Welcome! Is this your first time in?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Seokjin tells her. Her smile is blinding, almost annoyingly so, and he takes a step back. “I’m not from around here.” 

“I figured,” the girl’s grin softens and she shrugs. “You don’t look familiar.” 

“I’m just in town for the weekend. Was needing some sandals,” he nods towards the back wall and throws on his best fake smile. He feels like he’s been doing that a lot lately. 

“Oh! What are you in town for?” the girl asks. Seokjin assumes it’s just a small town thing, the small talk, because no one in New York or Seoul would be engaging him in a conversation like this. No one. But he would feel rude just walking away, so he humors her. 

“A wedding,” he says, and maybe that was the wrong thing to say because the girl’s face lights up and he thinks, oh no.  

“Oh my gosh, you’re here for Taehyung and Jimin, aren’t you?” 

This is awful, Seokjin thinks, why do they have so many fucking friends.  

“Yes,” he sighs. “I am, yeah.”

“What a coincidence! I’ll be there too,” the girl holds her hand out and okay, maybe it’s not so bad, Seokjin takes it and shakes it lightly. “I’m Morgan, it’s really nice to meet you.” 

“You too. I’m Seokjin,” he introduces himself. She’s a little much, but Morgan seems nice. He lets go of her hand and stuffs his own into his pockets. 

“How do you know them?” Morgan asks then, crossing her arms across her chest. “I grew up here with Jimin, so.” 

“Ah,” Seokjin grins, “-my fiance is good friends with them.” He doesn’t have to lie here, technically, but gossip runs rampant in small towns and he doesn’t want anything getting back to Namjoon’s friends or family. Better to just keep the story rolling for everybody. 

“Yeah? Who’s the lucky lady?” Morgan smiles, and then adds, “-or, you know, lucky man.”  

Seokjin grins. “Yeah. Um, his name is Namjoon.” 

And then Morgan’s smile drops. Her arms drop, too, and Seokjin doesn’t know why or how but he’s obviously hit a nerve and he wants desperately to take it back. 

“O-oh,” Morgan mutters. “Um, cool. Yeah. Namjoon Kim?” 

“Yes?” Seokjin answers, tentatively. “Do you know him?” 

Morgan snorts, something bitter and sad. Seokjin almost turns around and walks right out or the shop. “Oh, I know him,” she says. Her smile isn’t friendly anymore, but Seokjin doesn’t think it’s because of him, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. He thinks probably not. “Namjoon is my ex fiance.” 

And oh. Oh. Oh, god. 

“Oh, I’m,” Seokjin swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, um-” 

“It’s fine,” Morgan waves him off. “It was a while ago, we’ve both, obviously, moved past it.” 

Morgan sounds like she hasn’t, and her tone is accusatory, but Seokjin doesn’t ask any questions. He has a lot of them, but he doesn’t think now is the time or place, nor is Morgan the person to address regarding this. Whether this is, he can’t even begin to wrap his head around it.

“But let’s go get you some shoes, yeah?” 

And Seokjin goes, because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t she might actually kill him. 

When they get home around an hour later, Seokjin with a nice pair of designer flip flops, Yoongi with a horribly obvious hickey on his collarbone that he’s doing a terrible job of keeping covered, Seokjin deposits his bag on the couch and then goes in a search of one tall, gangly motherfucker named Kim Namjoon. 

He finds him on the back porch with Hoseok and Jimin. Hoseok’s got his legs kicked up into Namjoon’s lap, and all three of them are nursing beers. Seokjin throws on a fake smile (again with the fake smiles, christ) as he pushes open the back door; they all turn to look at him and Jimin and Hoseok smile, but Namjoon just looks unbothered, and Seokjin wants to smack him. 

“Hey,” he says. He closes the door behind himself and trails over to their chairs.

“Hi,” Namjoon says, and he finally, finally looks happy to see him. “How was lunch?” 

“It was really good,” Seokjin tells him. And it was. It was everything after (including the ride home, in which he swallowed two more bugs) that wasn’t. “Hey, can we talk for a second?” 

“‘Course,” Namjoon mumbles. He pushes Hoseok’s legs off of his lap and stands up and Seokjin, to feign being in love, grabs Namjoon’s hand and smiles appreciatively at Jimin and Hoseok. 

“I’ll bring him back in a second.” 

“Oh, you guys are disgustingly adorable, go, go,” Jimin laughs, shooing them away. Seokjin fake-giggles, nearly gags as he does it, and then tugs Namjoon back inside. 

They bypass Jungkook and Yoongi, who are on the couch again, now curled up under a single blanket (but with a no-homo amount of space between them) and watching a movie. Seokjin does not acknowledge them. He drags Namjoon to the stairs, and then up them, and then to their room where he pushes Namjoon inside and slams the door shut after he himself is in the room. 

“Want to tell me about fucking Morgan?”  

“Oh my god,” Namjoon flops back against the bed and groans, running both of his hands down his face. “Please tell me you didn’t run into her.” 

“Oh, I sure did,” Seokjin seethes. He doesn’t know why he’s so mad, but he supposes it’s just because he doesn’t like being caught off guard like that. “And I think she wanted my head. On a stake. So she could stick it outside her shop as some kind of celebratory token.” 

Namjoon makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“She’s going to be at the wedding!” Seokjin throws his hands up. “It is a big deal! Why didn’t you at least tell me?” 

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Namjoon mumbles. “It really isn’t a big deal, it was so long ago.” 

“An ex fiance is a big deal, Namjoon,” Seokjin spits out. “Was it a secret thing? Or does everyone know? Because if so, that puts me in a really awkward position for tomorrow.” 

“Oh, don’t try to victimize yourself here,” Namjoon argues. 

“I’m not!” Seokjin exclaims. “I just,” he throws his head back and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “-this is something a current fiance should know. I looked like a total idiot and she was ready to eat me alive.” 

“She’s like five-four, she can’t hurt you,” Namjoon snorts, but he looks miserable when he sits up and glances at Seokjin. “We were only eighteen. We had been dating since seventh grade and we were both going to attend the local community college after high school and I just thought that that was going to be my life, you know?” 

Seokjin doesn’t know. Well, he kind of knows, but he’s never been in love with someone enough to want to marry them, so he doesn’t really know. 

“So?” Seokjin questions. He walks over to the bed and sits down carefully next to Namjoon. “What happened!” 

“I freaked out,” Namjoon mumbles. “Neither of our parents thought it was a good idea, but they helped us plan a nice summer wedding. I woke up the day of and realized that I didn’t actually want to marry her, so I never showed up.” 

“That’s,” Seokjin doesn’t know how to put what he’s thinking into words. He decides to just go with the first thing that came to mind, “-really shitty, actually. You just left her at the altar?” 

“I mean, no,” Namjoon tells him, though his expression says basically. “I called her before either of us even got to the venue and told her I couldn’t do it.”

Seokjin won’t pretend he understands. He supposes there were probably more conversations, lots of conversations, and an eventual mutual agreement. He knows Namjoon enough to know that he most likely did not have any ill intentions. And even if he did, Seokjin is in no place to judge, really. 

So, he stays quiet. He and Namjoon sit on the bed together in silence, Namjoon picking at his nails, Seokjin drawing patterns on the sheets with his finger. Until-

“I couldn’t stand staying here. Felt like everyone was constantly judging me. Small town, you know? Everyone knows everything.” 

Seokjin could guess that. 

“I applied for late admissions at NYU. Got in, moved to New York probably a month later. Started school, never really looked back. I always intended on moving back here but then I started working at the company and, well…” he trails off, biting his bottom lip. Seokjin glances over at him, and he does feel a bit of sympathy for the younger. He can’t imagine what that would’ve been like, uprooting your entire life for a girl that wears a cowrie shell necklace. 

He tells Namjoon as much. Namjoon snorts and swats at his chest. 

“We were young and in love,” Namjoon shrugs, “-but I knew that we’d probably end up hating each other within a year. I couldn’t do that to myself or her. Just wish I had realized it before the wedding day.” 

Seokjin nods. But then it dawns on him, and he turns to Namjoon with a scowl on his face. 

“No wonder your family didn’t believe you last night!” he says. Geez, he wouldn’t have either, and now he’s frustrated because this is definitely something they should have discussed before ever stepping foot in Hawaii. “They probably think you’re making the same mistake with me.” 

“I,” Namjoon looks conflicted, “-I never even considered that. The thing with Morgan, it used to be all I ever thought about. But now it’s like, it’s a distant memory, I honestly just forgot. But, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

Seokjin groans. So not only does he have to lie to the government, but now he has to work extra hard to convince his fake fiance’s parents that they’re in love because their son has a jump-the-gun problem. 

Good god, Seokjin thinks. This is a fucking nightmare.  

“My parents were never mad at me,” Namjoon tells him, his voice soft. “They supported me through everything. And they know that I’ve grown a lot since then. They trust me. I don’t- I don’t think it’ll be a problem, not like you think it will.” 

“I hope not,” Seokjin mumbles. He doesn’t want the whole plan to go to shit, not because they weren’t convincing, but because Namjoon’s parents have son-related trust issues. But Namjoon looks like a kicked dog right now, so sad and vulnerable, and that just simply will not do, so Seokjin pokes his ankle with his foot and says- “Hey, nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just focus on ourselves and getting through this weekend, yeah?” 

Namjoon nods. He kicks Seokjin’s ankle back. “Sorry you had to be put in that position, though. I should have told you about Morgan at the very least.” 

“You probably should’ve, but it’s okay.” And then, because comedic relief is his speciality, “-I’m prettier anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

Namjoon laughs, full-bellied, his head tipped back to the ceiling and Seokjin thinks, oh, it wasn’t that funny. His face heats up and he bites back a smile anyway.

“Yeah, you are,” Namjoon finally admits, once his laughter has died down. He glances over at Seokjin, shy through the corner of his eye, and it’s only then that Seokjin realizes his face is beat red. 

“Thanks,” Seokjin mumbles. He wasn’t fishing for compliments, was just trying to lighten the mood, but this is nice. He almost hopes Namjoon’s not messing with him. 

“Yeah,” the younger says. He taps at Seokjin’s ankle once more, nodding. “Yeah.” 

-

Seokjin ends up taking a nap. He doesn’t set an alarm because Namjoon tells him he’ll wake him up in enough time to get ready before they have to head out for Jimin and Taehyung’s joint bachelor party. 

And apparently that was a fucking lie, because Namjoon wakes him up fifteen minutes before six with a pillow to the face and a cheerful “get up, we’re leaving soon”. Seokjin has to go through his hair routine and his minimal makeup routine and get himself dressed at lightning speed less he wants to, in Namjoon’s words, “get left behind for the coyotes”. The coyotes being his parents, in which Seokjin would have to stay in with while the rest of them went out and got drunk. 

So, he gets ready fast. And he curses Namjoon through the entirety of it. 

He joins Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jungkook downstairs two minutes past six, running down the steps because he really does not think Namjoon was joking about leaving him. They’re all waiting by the door, and when Seokjin finally reaches them, panting heavily from practically sprinting around for the past fifteen minutes, Jungkook grins and says-

“I can-” 

“We’re not taking the jeep,” Namjoon cuts him off. And Seokjin is mad at him, so very mad at him, but he does appreciate that at least someone is on his side regarding the death-trap-mobile. He’s convinced Yoongi would bike the entire circumference of the island if Jungkook asked him to, so there’s no help there. Thank god for Namjoon.  

Jungkook frowns, however, but he doesn’t push it. “Dad’s truck then?” Namjoon nods, and Seokjin knows that he can’t actually drive (courtesy of a video Yoongi had put up on Snapchat once of Namjoon trying to learn how to drive in an empty parking lot, in which Yoongi had to throw his leg over the middle console and push down on the break from the passenger seat because they were barreling towards a brick wall), so he’s not surprised when Jungkook grabs a pair of keys off a hook next to the garage door and leads the way out to the truck. 

They end up picking Hoseok up from a small house a few streets away from where Namjoon and Jungkook live. He squishes into the back of the truck with Seokjin and Namjoon and Seokjin thinks, again, that Yoongi is being very inconsiderate by occupying the front seat with his short legs and tiny frame. But Yoongi is also flushed in the face and keeps tapping his pinky against Jungkook’shand, which is resting on the gear shift, so he’s not going to say anything. 

Seokjin assumes they’re just going to go back to the small downtown area from earlier. One highway merge later, and it’s apparent that they are not. It’s a further drive, but eventually they arrive at a restaurant that sits on the beach, overlooking the water. It looks fancy and Seokjin had dressed nice, but he also thinks he may be underdressed. Though Namjoon is wearing khaki shorts and a button up shirt, so maybe not. 

He’s confused, to say the least. 

“I thought we were going clubbing,” he hisses once they’re out of the truck. He grabs Namjoon’s hand for appearances, and lets the other shut the door.

“We are, but dinner first,” Namjoon explains, frowning. “Why?” 

“Your attire.” 

Namjoon looks down at himself. “What about it?” 

“Khaki shorts? To a club?” 

“There isn’t a dress code.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Why, are you embarrassed?” 

“Oh, hon,” Seokjin brings his hand up and pats Namjoon’s cheek. “Your clothes are about the least embarrassing part of you.” 

Seokjin laughs. Namjoon doesn’t find it funny, if the way he pinches Seokjin’s hand is anything to go by. He drags Seokjin behind him up the restaurant, trailing behind Hoseok who gives them an odd look but smiles nonetheless. Seokjin hasn’t spoken to him much, but he gets the impression that Hoseok doesn’t like him all that well. He grins, but when Hoseok just shakes his head and turns to talk to Yoongi, he lets it drop off his face. 

Jimin and Taehyung are already there, apparently, so when they make it up to the hostess stand they’re immediately directed back to a long table on the deck. They have a perfect view of the water; it’s really pretty, and Seokjin itches to take a picture, to capture the moment. He’s lucky, honestly, that Namjoon lives in such a beautiful place. He could’ve picked someone that lived in like, Kansas or something, and that would’ve been tragic. 

After greetings are thrown around and they’re all seated and comfortable, a round of drinks is ordered, as well as a shrimp appetizer. They’re at a seafood restaurant and one glance at the menu tells Seokjin that it’s going to be an expensive evening. His first cocktail arrives to him fast and after looking through the menu a bit more, he decides that a lobster dish with a side of steamed vegetables sounds nice.

Conversation picks up after everyone has ordered their meals. Taehyung asks him a few questions and they bond over a shared interest in a Korean drama, but for the most part the table talks about things that Seokjin finds he can’t relate to. Childhood memories, or things that happened when they all came to New York last summer. Interests and hobbies that he knows nothing about, jobs that he had no idea existed. So he stays quiet for the most part, offering a hum here and there just so that people know he’s at least listening. 

The volcanology question, however, does finally gets answered, and Seokjin finds that Taehyung quite literally pokes around active volcanoes for a living. Jimin hates it and Seokjin would too, he supposes, so he can at least nod along in agreement with that. 

Half the table orders the endless crab buffet, so their food arrives earlier than the rest. Namjoon is decidedly not apart of that group, and when Seokjin asks him why he looks disgusted when Jungkook tears into a leg, he tells him that the crabs are his friends and he can’t possibly imagine eating them. 

Seokjin blanches. What.  

“You didn’t know that about hyung?” Hoseok asks him. He is also biting into a crab leg, him and Jungkook sharing a dish full of butter sauce.  

“I mean, I knew he liked them,” Seokjin says, because he does know this. Namjoon has quite a few crab trinkets on his desk. “It’s just, we don’t go to a lot of seafood places so, you know…” 

“They’re like, his favorite animal,” Jimin snickers. “We always used to collect them when we were little, and Jungkookie and I would take them home for our dads to cook while hyung would try to save as many as he could from the buckets in the garage.” 

Seokjin glances over at Namjoon. The younger’s face is bright red and he’s looking down at his lap like he’s embarrassed. Which is something Seokjin isn’t quite used to, because Namjoon is one of the most confident people he’s ever met. He’s comfortable with himself, never ashamed of things he says or does. 

Seokjin swallows the lump in his throat and turns back to Jimin. 

“Ha, funny.” 

They spend at least two more hours at the restaurant. The rest of their food comes and Seokjin has to stop himself from inhaling it all in five minutes; the lobster is by far the best he’s ever had, and he’s been to some of the best rated restaurants in New York and Seoul. They order two more rounds of cocktails, beer for Hoseok and Namjoon because Seokjin finds that they’re actually disgusting, and sit around talking and laughing and causing most of the other patrons to stare at them from time to time. Seokjin learns to ignore it about forty five minutes in because despite the fact that it’s still a little awkward, he’s having a good time. 

He hasn’t been out with this many people and genuinely enjoyed himself in a long time. 

When they’re stacking their dishes together and the waitress has told them that she’ll be back shortly with their checks, Seokjin announces that he has to use the restroom. He does, but that isn’t the primary reason he excuses himself. Once he knows he’s out of sight of the table, he changes directions and heads for the hostess stand instead. He finds theirs standing amongst the people crowding around it and waves her down. 

“Can I help you?” she asks him, once he’s stopped in front of her. She looks annoyed, and Seokjin doesn’t blame her; he would hate to be interrupted from his job, too. But he certainly wasn’t going to do this at the table. 

“Yeah, sorry to bother you,” he begins, “-but I was wondering if I could pay the tab? Like, everyone’s.” 

“Oh,” the lady says, looking surprised. “Are you sure? It’s a lot.” 

Seokjin snorts. He figured, but he takes the slip of paper from her and glances down at the total anyway. It’s well over four hundred dollars, though he doesn’t mind; it’s the least he can do for these people, all things considered. 

“That’s alright,” he mumbles. He pulls out his wallet and hands over his card, waits for her to swipe it and hand it back before printing out the receipt. “Thank you.” 

He does go to the bathroom after that. When he gets back to the table the waitress is there again, handing back receipts to the rest of them as well as complimentary mints. He didn’t really want that to happen, but he supposes it’s just part of her job. 

“Wait, what do you mean it’s already been paid for?” Jimin looks down at the total and his eyes bug out. “Who paid for it?” 

“Him,” the waitress gestures towards where Seokjin is currently struggling to sit back down in his admittedly very heavy chair. She doesn’t stay around for the fallout; Seokjin wouldn’t either. 

“Hyung, what?” Jungkook chokes out. He waves the receipt around in the air. “This is, like, fucking expensive!” 

“I, um,” Seokjin doesn’t like how all of the attention has suddenly turned on him. Everyone is staring at him, expectant. “I just wanted to do something nice? Since I kind of intruded on your wedding weekend, unannounced, and, you know, it’s the least I can do.” 

Everyone is still staring at him. He clears his throat. 

“To say thank you, too. For welcoming me and being so nice.” 

A beat of silence passes, and then-

“Ah, Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin whines, “-where did you find him? I think I’m in love with him now.” 

“You’re literally getting married tomorrow,” Namjoon says, deadpan. Seokjin glances at him and he doesn’t look appreciative or happy like he should; he looks pissed, and Seokjin gulps. Oh, no. Oh no no no.  

“That was really nice of you, hyung,” Taehyung tells him. Seokjin never told him that he could call him hyung but he truly doesn’t mind; he likes Taehyung a lot, would feel weird if he called him anything else anyway. In fact, he likes all of them. It’s terrible. “You didn’t have to, but we appreciate it. And we’re glad you’re here. I think you fit in quite nice.” 

“Oh,” Seokjin mumbles, his voice a bit wobbly and what the fuck is that about? He blinks his eyes against the light. “Thank you. I...you guys are great. So I just wanted to do something nice for you. I hope that was okay.” 

“Thank you,” there’s a hand on his shoulder and Seokjin turns to find Hoseok smiling down at him. It looks genuine and for whatever reason, that’s what breaks Seokjin. He blinks his eyes together faster, willing the tears to go away. 

Everyone else expresses their gratitude, some in the form of hugs (i.e. Jimin and Jungkook) and some in the form of an eye roll and a smile (Yoongi). With every passing word Seokjin feels his cheeks heat up, and only stops grinning and blushing when Jimin announces that he wants pictures on the beach and that they all must participate. 

There are some stairs leading out from the back of the restaurant that take them down to the beach below. It’s privately owned by the restaurant, so there aren’t a lot of people around. The sun is setting low and despite the slightly inconvenient lighting, it’s a nice place to take pictures. Jimin ropes Taehyung and Jungkook into a lot, before he demands group shots and what he calls “Christmas greeting card photos for the couples”. Which means that Seokjin has to take a few with Namjoon, and they have to look happy even though he’s felt Namjoon’s frown on his back since they left the table. 

When they’re done, and Jimin has started hanging off Hoseok’s back and taking silly photos of everyone, Namjoon grabs Seokjin’s hand and tugs him down the beach a bit. He throws a reassuring smile over his shoulder towards Taehyung, who gives them a thumbs up and lets them be. Seokjin wishes he wouldn’t; he’s a little afraid Namjoon is going to kill him and hide his body in the sand dunes. 

“Why are you so angry?” he asks. Namjoon pushes him down into the sand, albeit softly, and Seokjin thinks he does so so that it’ll look less like they’re fighting and more like they’re having a romantic conversation on the beach. He sits and waits for the younger to join him. 

“First off,” Namjoon begins, and his face is a brilliant shade of red, “-we are not your charity.”  

Oh, fuck, Seokjin thinks. Not this bullshit. He rolls his eyes and leans back on his hands, no longer worried that Namjoon might off him because this is ridiculous.  

“First off,” he mocks, “-this isn’t a fucking drama. Are you being serious right now?” 

Namjoon huffs. “Yoongi is probably just as rich as you are, and you know I make good money, and Hoseok looks homeless half the time but I swear he does have a good paying job and-” 

“I don’t care,” Seokjin cuts him off. “I don’t. I didn’t pay for the meal because I felt bad for you guys.” 

Namjoon glares at him. Seokjin isn’t having it; he will not let this be their demise. 

“I really did just want to do something nice. I know it was my idea, but I do feel bad for coming in here and, like, disrupting everything. And I like your friends; there was no pity involved.” 

“But you’re not nice,” Namjoon says, and Seokjin thinks he wasn’t meant to hear it but he does, and he hates the way it makes him feel. Like his heart just deflates, and all sense of happiness from the night leaves his body immediately. 

“Well thanks, I guess,” he snorts, dejected. He goes to stand up but Namjoon stops him, a hand on his arm. 

“Wait,” he says, “-I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Sure,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. He sits back down though, because what else would he do? “No, I know how you meant it. You told me I was mean on Wednesday. You said you’ve used a voodoo doll on me.” 

Namjoon groans. He drops his hand from Seokjin’s arm and takes a deep breath. “Did you know I used to have a crush on you?” 

Well, Seokjin hadn’t expected that. He sputters and turns on Namjoon, eyes wide. “What?” 

“You’re handsome, hyung,” he shrugs. “And you were so timid when you first started. But then you just kind of fell into the position and, I don’t know, you’re almost unapproachable now. You’re not really mean, I guess, but you make people feel small and stupid and like they’re beneath you. I just, I assumed that’s what you were doing when you paid for everyone. Trying to make it seem like you were better than us.” 

Seokjin thinks something has gone horribly wrong. They were getting along just fine this afternoon, had a nice heart-to-heart talk about Namjoon’s fucking ex, and now here they are, about to fight because Seokjin paid for food and Namjoon’s trying to guilt trip him for it. 

But even though it’s a little ridiculous, the words do hurt, and the worst part is that Seokjin knows there’s some truth to them. Namjoon isn’t exactly wrong. He was timid when he first started. If Namjoon had a crush on him because of it, then that is something different entirely and maybe Seokjin should ask him about it.

He doesn’t, though. He thinks about Namjoon’s other words. Unapproachable and make people feel small and stupid and like they’re beneath you and thinks, well, perhaps so. He had been thrown into a position of power at a foreign company, and in order to protect himself he had to put up a wall and learn how to be good at intimidation.

It was better to be the intimidating than the intimidated, he reasoned. He sighs. I guess we’re having this conversation, he thinks. 

“Do you know why I transferred to the American branch?” he asks, voice quiet. He never planned on telling anyone this. Never wanted to, still doesn’t now, but Namjoon apparently has this skewed idea of who he is and he hates it. Hates that people think he’s just...like that. And it’s his fault, he knows it, but for whatever reason he can’t stand knowing that Namjoon thinks that way about him. 

“No,” Namjoon mumbles. He looks just as confused as Seokjin assumes he himself did when the younger told him he used to have a crush on him. The amount of directions this conversation is going is astonishing, but Seokjin won’t give up now. 

“I was getting death threats at my last job and had to move countries to avoid getting hurt,” Seokjin admits. 

Namjoon’s eyes bug out in surprise. He sits up and turns to look at Seokjin, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Hyung, what do you mean?” 

A deep breath, and Seokjin prepares himself for the long haul. Because it’s a story, but it’s a long one, one he’s kept bottled up for long enough that he can pretend it just never happened. It did, though, and it’s why he is the way he is now. Namjoon deserves to know it. 

“I held Yoongi’s position at the Korean branch of the company,” he starts. They work for a magazine company that discusses different music elements, artists, things of the like. It mostly focuses on Asian and Asian American artists and their music. Seokjin’s very proud of the work he’s done for the company; he’s just not proud of the other, more detrimental things that have happened. “I had worked there since I graduated university. Worked my way up, you know, that kind of thing. I was well liked. My parents have been family friends with the Chairman since I was born.” 

Seokjin thinks about all of the family dinners he had attended when he was younger. The Chairman had a son around his age; they had been decent friends, until they weren’t. And there’s really no doubt that Seokjin’s father helped him get his position, helped him easily move through the ranks within the company, no matter how hard he worked or how good he actually was. But then one thing led to another, and his family stopped speaking to him, and suddenly the Chairman was demanding that Seokjin left the country, less he wanted to be fired and never find a job in the industry again.

Seokjin likes the American branch's Chairman far better, anyway. She’s an older lady, but she’s accepting and warm and kind and had promised him that nothing would happen to him while he was here. It’s amazing how the two companies work together so well; they’re so different, both in their values and how their branches operate. 

“There was this man that had worked in marketing. His name was Beomseok. He was three years older than I was, but we got along well. I started seeing him a few months after I was promoted to COO. We dated for almost a year.” 

Seokjin doesn’t like saying his name out loud. Beomseok. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He hasn’t said it since the last time they were yelling at each other, the night before he left for New York. He always thought that bringing Beomseok up would leave him feeling sad, or angry, but he just feels tired. Maybe even a little relieved. 

“Turns out he had been married the entire time,” Seokjin chuckles, bitterly. “I had no idea. He hid it so well. He stayed in the city during the week and then went back home to his wife and kids on the weekends, but he told me he was just visiting his sick mother. His wife found out when he stayed back one weekend, bust into his apartment and found us in bed together. I still have scars on my back from where she had broken a ceramic lamp over me.” 

Namjoon gapes at him. It’s an expected reaction, but Seokjin wants desperately to reach over and close his mouth. 

“She told her family, and then his family, and then the company found out, and then my family found out. They basically disowned me. The company couldn’t fire me for it, but I was being harassed every single day. Her family,” -they’re a well known chaebol family, because of course they are, that’s just how Seokjin’s life goes- “threatened me all the time. I got anonymous death threats sent to my home address. All my friends left me, everyone was disgusted with me. There really wasn’t anything I could do.” 

It sounds dramatic, and Seokjin supposes if someone told him the exact same thing he may not believe them, but it did happen and now he has to live with the consequences. It’s just why he can’t go back to South Korea; he’s scared.  

“Hyung, oh my god,” Namjoon finally says, looking, well, baffled. Confused. Stunned and astounded and shocked. And then he flops back against the sand and groans, “why didn’t you just tell me that?” 

“Oh, geez, Namjoon. Yeah, I wonder why I never told you about my gay love affair that cost me my job, my family, and all of my friends,” Seokjin snorts. He lays down next to Namjoon and rolls his head to the side, glaring at the younger. “I wonder.”  

“I just meant that if you had told me, I wouldn’t even have hesitated to help you! And I wouldn’t have thought that you were just a bad person!” 

“Well thanks, I’m glad you assumed I was just mean and not that I was, like, dealing with something.” Seokjin rolls his eyes and looks up at the sky. It’s dark out now, the stars littering the vast expanse of nothingness up above him. It’s something he never used to see back in Seoul, and certainly doesn’t see in New York, now. He kind of likes it, brings a wave of comfort over him. Makes him feel small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and sometimes he likes reminding himself that the world isn’t going to implode because of his actions. “I don’t try to be mean. It’s just, something like that happens and you don’t want to get close to anyone else ever again, you know? So I figured it was better to drive everyone away than to take any chances.” 

“Sorry if I’m prying,” Namjoon says then, “-but if that’s the case, then why did you pick me to get fake married to? Why not a woman?” 

“I’m not afraid of being gay,” Seokjin mutters. “What happened was horrible, but I don’t want to force myself back into the closet because of it. I worked too hard to get out of the closet and be comfortable with who I was to do that to myself. I could fake it with a girl, but,” he sighs, shrugs because even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, at least he’s not lying to himself anymore, “-that’s not me.” 

“That’s really brave of you, hyung,” Namjoon mumbles. He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he reaches over and takes Seokjin’s hand into his own. He squeezes and maybe it’s just for comfort, a gesture meant to calm Seokjin down, but maybe it isn’t. Whatever it is, Seokjin has to swallow down the feelings bubbling up inside him in order to continue. 

“And I trust you,” he manages, because it’s true. No matter how desperate, he probably would’ve never asked (read: demanded) anyone else to do this for him. If not Namjoon, then Yoongi, and if not Yoongi, then nobody. He would’ve gone back to South Korea with his tail between his legs and his head down, possibly ready to go into hiding. There’s no one else he could trust with this. 

He and Namjoon don’t really ever get along. They’re both hard-headed and they want things to go their own way. Seokjin is a control freak and Namjoon is such a go-with-the-flow kind of person it drives him absolutely crazy. But Namjoon is a hard worker, and he’s smart, and he’s kind and understanding and that’s what Seokjin admires about him. He doesn’t hate Namjoon. He never has. If under normal circumstances, he thinks they could even be good friends. He still doesn’t know why he picked Namjoon instead of Yoongi for this, maybe just because his brain works too fast and Namjoon was the first person readily available, but, well-

He tells his subconscious to shut up. He won’t entertain any other explanations. 

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” Seokjin eventually says, untangling his fingers from where they rest against Namjoon’s. “In the heat of the moment it sounded like a good idea. Now that I’ve had a few days to think about it, I realize that it’s not, and it’s unfair to you. I don’t know how to fix it but I can-” 

Namjoon shoots up then, his face twisting into a weird expression that Seokjin can’t quite read. Seokjin sits up as well and right as he’s about to ask what’s going on, Namjoon begins speaking. 

“You don’t have to fix it. It- it’s fine. I want to help you. You- you can’t go back to South Korea, hyung, not after what happened. I won’t allow it. If we have to stay married forever then, whatever, that’s fine. But you don’t deserve to be thrown back into that. And you were kind of right when you said there was no one else lined up. I, uh, well, you know, there’s no one else. So it’s fine.” 

Seokjin...does not know what to say. He stares at Namjoon, jaw dropped in surprise as the younger twists his hands in his lap and generally looks like an intimidated teenager. 

“I think I still have a tiny crush on you. I mean, I think it’s kind of based on fear at this point, but I think I know that deep down, you’re a good person. Just scared, like you said, and a little guarded. But that’s okay. We can get through that. I trust you, too, and we can make this work.” 

Seokjin can’t help it, he breaks into tears the minute Namjoon is done speaking. It’s horrible; he doesn’t cry in front of people. He’s embarrassed but also overwhelmed and fuck, since when was Kim Namjoon like this? Looking like a hot piece of ass under the moonlight and being so genuinely good. Seokjin doesn’t know what to do. It’s terrible, is what it is. 

“Why are you crying?” Namjoon panics. He reaches forward, timid, but then throws all hesitation out the window and wraps Seokjin in a hug. 

“You’re just being so nice,” Seokjin sobs into his chest. “You’ve gone along with all of this and you’ve been kind of standoffish but that’s to be expected but now you’re hugging me and telling me that we’ll work it out and I don’t deserve that, you know? I forced you to fake marry me and then made you drag me to your best friend’s wedding and I had to meet your family and you had to tell them we’re in love and you should be so mad at me, oh my god.” 

“I think you having to meet my ex fiance without knowing she ever existed kind of evens it out,” Namjoon chuckles. 

“It doesn’t even it out at all,” Seokjin chokes. “You should hate me.” 

“Well, I don’t,” Namjoon says softly. He brushes the tears away from beneath Seokjin’s eyes and it’s such a simple gesture but Seokjin feels on fire. “You’re a little bit insufferable at the office but now I know there’s a reason behind the coldness, and that’s okay. And you kind of pur when you sleep and it’s hard to hate anyone who does that.” 

Seokjin groans. Terrible. “I still feel like the shittiest, most manipulative person on the planet.” 

“Well, don’t. Because I know you’re not. I know you’re going to eventually get me those contacts and promote me to the exec board because if you don’t I’ll have to get rid of you,” -Seokjin lets out a startled chuckle- “and besides, this is me telling you right now, explicitly, that I want to help you. We’re going to do this together. I do not feel pressured, I am willingly marrying you so that you can stay in the country.” 

Seokjin pulls away from Namjoon. He looks up and smiles at him, a little watery, a lot grateful. 

“So I forbid you, from this moment on, from feeling guilty. No more of that. You’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself. We’re going to have a great rest of the weekend, then we’re going to somehow convince everyone to get on a plane and come back with us, we’re going to kick ass at the immigration interview, and then we’re going to get married and live happily ever after. For awhile at least, or forever, who knows. You might end up liking me, Kim Seokjin.” 

Seokjin ignores the faint voice in the back of his head saying I think I already do.  

Chapter Text

“Why on earth did we do that?” Jimin groans. He’s been groaning since he woke up, which was only thirty minutes ago. Seokjin has been sitting at the kitchen table for fifteen of them and so far, no one has had an answer for Jimin’s question. “Seriously, why did we do that? Oh god, my head hurts so bad.” 

Seokjin doesn’t remember a lot past the sixth shot of straight tequila Hoseok forced down his throat once they had gotten to the club. Initiation, Hoseok had said, after Seokjin had already been subjected to four cocktails and at least half a bag of Fireball. He’d only agreed because his conversation with Namjoon left his head spinning and his stomach a mess of butterflies. Which, gross. So he decided then and there that he didn’t care if he drunkenly embarrassed himself; he was going to drown his thoughts and feelings in alcohol and hope he survived to see another day. 

He did. He woke up on a makeshift pallet on Jimin and Taehyung’s floor around six. Namjoon had been next to him, his entire body sprawled out across Hoseok. Seokjin had been hogging the blanket the entire night, so they only had one single pillow to share between them. No one, in their drunken stupor, had bothered to provide them with more. 

Jungkook and Yoongi ended up taking the guest bedroom, apparently. Seokjin is a little mad about that. He’s old and his back hurts; he wishes people would start considering him.  

Currently, however, he’s one of only four people awake. Yoongi is sitting at the head of the table, and has been staring blankly at his hands since Seokjin joined him. Jimin is on the floor next to the fridge, holding an ice pack against his forehead and moaning every time he so much as breathes. Taehyung is the only one that’s really okay; he’s been busy making them all eggs and coffee, and he hasn’t said anything, but he doesn’t look like a corpse. The same can’t be said for any of the rest of them. It’s a little unsettling. 

Seokjin really didn’t expect this kind of behavior from their group. They’re all young twenty-something’s, so he figured the night was at least going to be long, but watching a drunk Taehyung climb on top of a table and sing every word of Don’t Stop Believing perfectly before effectively blacking out was not something Seokjin thought he’d ever experience while in Hawaii. 

He wishes he could’ve remembered more. He’s sure it was fun, though he’s almost positive almost everyone else is in the same, sad boat as him. 

“I’m getting married tonight,” Jimin whispers. He’s also been repeating that, as if everyone else has forgotten. Well, Seokjin honestly had. In his alcoholic haze, he had forgotten why he was even there in the first place. Waking up and being reminded that they were due for a wedding in twelve hours had been quite a shock, to say the least. 

“Babe,” Taehyung’s voice is deeper than normal, sounds like he may have swallowed glass at some point in the night, “-it’s fine. Everything will be fine.” 

“We’re supposed to be at the venue at nine,” Jimin moans. Seokjin has no idea why they need to be there nine hours early, but he won’t ask Jimin this. He seems to have enough on his plate as is. “My mom is going to kill me.” 

“Your mom knew we were going out last night, she’ll understand if the makeup artist has to apply more concealer than normal,” Taehyung tells his fiance quietly. He walks a plate of eggs over to Seokjin and sets them down on the table in front of him. The smell hits his nose and Seokjin feels nauseous almost immediately, but he tries to hide his disgust until Taehyung is at least no longer facing him. 

“Don’t even talk about that,” Jimin whines. He’s finally heaving himself off the floor. “I’m going to look terrible on my wedding day and it’s all my fault because I’m an irresponsible ugly troll who has unusually prominent eye bags and-” 

“You’re going to look beautiful,” Taehyung weaves his arms around Jimin’s waist and pulls him close, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You planned a perfect wedding and no matter what we’re going to have a good time.” 

Seokjin gags a little, not because of the eggs but because they’re fucking adorable and it’s making him both sad and jealous. He turns away, tells himself it’s to give them privacy but knows it’s mostly because he’s still half drunk and if he continues to watch he might cry because he’s lonely and sad and will never have that-

“Hey.” 

And oh, it’s as if the world is trying to tell him something. 

Namjoon looks, well, awful. He looks so bad, he’s got dark circles under his eyes and his hair is sticking up in every direction and he’s no longer wearing a shirt, where did his fucking shirt go someone get him a shirt, and his pants are lopsided on his hips. Seokjin can’t breathe, arm.  

“Hello,” he squeaks. His putty brain is apparently on a hiatus, he can’t think of any words. “Hi, um.” 

Namjoon leans down and pecks his forehead. When he stands back up he ruffles Seokjin’s hair and then says, “I need coffee.” 

Seokjin is prepared to throw everything out the window and make Namjoon a full English breakfast, complete with as many cups of coffee as his little heart desires if it means he gets to stare at this longer. He doesn’t know his way around Jimin and Taehyung’s kitchen, though, and he doesn’t think moving would do anything beneficial for his stomach right now, so he has to settle for sliding Namjoon his untouched mug of black coffee and offering up his best hungover smile. 

“It’s still warm.” 

“You’re the best, babe,” and then he’s gone, walking back into the living room with the mug and a piece of toilet paper stuck to the back of his head. 

When Seokjin turns away from staring at where Namjoon had previously been standing, not quite understanding the concept of time because he thinks he may have just dreamed that, Yoongi is grinning at him. It’s the first bit of emotion he’s shown since he stumbled out of the guest bedroom. 

“Don’t,” Seokjin whispers. Jimin and Taehyung are still standing behind them and he’s afraid Yoongi will say something stupid. 

“It’s like you have a neon sign over your head blinking-” 

“Don’t say another word,” Seokjin pleads, keeping his voice down as to not attract any attention. “Shut up.” 

Yoongi does shut up, but his smirk says everything he isn’t able to convey through words. It’s horrible. Seokjin doesn’t want to acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to say yes or no, doesn’t want to even think about it, but something feels different and Namjoon had kissed his forehead and it burned, like an iron searing something into his skin, and that isn’t fucking normal. 

He’ll blame it on the alcohol. His head feels fuzzy because of the alcohol and not because-

Who the fuck is he kidding. Namjoon is hot as shit and their conversation last night made Seokjin like him maybe a little more than he should. 

“You’re smiling,” Yoongi points out. Seokjin bites down on his lip and quickly pushes away from the table. 

“I’m not,” he says. He was. He starts walking towards the hallway, in search of a bathroom. “I wasn’t even doing anything,” and then- “mind your business.” 

Turns out Jimin and Taehyung really do have to be at the venue at nine. Jimin’s mother starts calling him at eight and doesn’t stop until she knows her son and soon-to-be son-in-law are in the car and on their way. Which means that everyone else has to leave their house and go home and shower and make themselves at least somewhat presentable before they have to be at the venue at one.  

Seokjin, however, can show up at 5:59 if he so pleases. He jokes with Namjoon about this on the way home (in which they Uber, they don’t know where Namjoon and Jungkook’s father’s truck has ended up but it’s clearly not at Jimin and Taehyung’s so they must rely on an alternative method of transportation) and Namjoon glares at him until he sighs and tells him that yes, he’ll be there no later than four. 

When they get home, Jungkook and Yoongi trail off to their respective rooms to get a little more sleep before they have to head out. Seokjin would like to do the same, but he’s always been the type of person to not be able to go back to sleep once he’s up in the morning. So he lets Namjoon fall face-first into the bed, and then grabs a towel and an outfit and heads for the bathroom. 

Namjoon’s shower is not hard to operate. Even in his post-inebriated state, he’s able to turn the handle and adjust the nozzle (because apparently Namjoon likes it when the water fucking beams him) until he can tolerate the water pressure. He lets it warm up and when it’s a bearable temperature steps under the spray. 

It’s nice, washing the grime from the night out away from his body. He still can’t remember much, his brain telling him no, really, there isn’t anything there. He thinks there may have been a rap battle, Hoseok might have made out with Taehyung while Jimin cheered them on from the sidelines, thinks that maybe he caught Yoongi and Jungkook in the bathroom on more than one occasion but it’s all hazy, like he’s trying to remember a dream. There are bits and pieces, and then a whole lot of nothing. He’s not exactly proud that he let himself get like that, but he’s pretty sure he didn’t publicly embarrass himself, and he does at least remember having fun. 

He hasn’t had fun like that in so long. He thinks the last time he allowed himself to let loose like that was before he met Beomseok, before he had to start hiding, had to start pretending he was someone he wasn’t. He’s never felt this comfortable with a group of people before, and even though they technically aren’t his friends, and he’s basically lying to all of them, he had felt wanted.  

It’s not something he’s used to. 

He picks up the shampoo and when he opens it, the scent that wafts out of the bottle overwhelms him and immediately reminds him of Namjoon. Pomegranate, the front of it reads, but Seokjin just thinks Namjoon.  

Ah, Namjoon. He doesn’t know what to do with that one. Yesterday had been pretty monumental in regards to their relationship. Between their conversation about Namjoon’s ex-fucking-fiance, and Seokjin’s own personal trauma, things had changed. Something shifted. Namjoon held his hand after their talk on the beach, but it no longer felt forced. He kissed Seokjin’s cheek and wrapped his arms around him in a hug and Seokjin blushed and felt all warm and gooey on the inside and it wasn’t just because he was putting on a show. 

He knows what it means. He won’t pretend he doesn’t, won’t play dumb, won’t ignore it for the sake of simplicity and peace of mind. 

He thinks back to the first time he really ever noticed Namjoon. Of course, he noticed him his first day on the job; it’s hard not to notice those dimples. He remembers receiving Namjoon’s greeting and big, dimpled grin with a smile of his own, unable to hide his amusement at the chubby-cheeked man who had lilac hair and was wearing a weird sweater. But that wasn’t when he realized that maybe Namjoon was just a good person, inside and out. 

It had been at a staff meeting. Seokjin’s first, actually, a month after he had started. They were having some problems in the office, dealing with things like petty office gossip and drama. Yoongi wanted to squash the issue before it got out of control, so he called everyone into the conference room and demanded that they work their shit out together. 

It had gone horribly, as predicted. Seokjin remembers sitting back and watching the shit-show unfold, as people started yelling across the table at each other and pointing pens like it was threatening. In the end they had to cut the meeting short because one lady had gotten so worked up she started crying, and then couldn’t calm herself back down. Yoongi held private meetings with all involved later in the week and the problem was resolved when they got back from their long weekend. He can’t even really remember what the issue had been about, just that it was a bad week in the office. 

But he does remember Namjoon. Remembers him staying quiet for most of the meeting, until someone had called one of the women a derogatory name and he had jumped out of his seat to yell at the man. The way he spoke and defended the lady who, really, had been in the wrong the entire time and everyone knew it (Seokjin can remember that much) had been, well…

Namjoon is good. Annoying, stuck in his ways and persistent, but he’s good. And it’s fucking with Seokjin, because he’s beginning to realize that maybe it hasn’t just been quiet admiration from afar. Maybe it’s always been more, and he just never allowed himself to acknowledge it before.

He finishes washing up after that, notes that he smells almost exclusively like Namjoon but tries to ignore it as he gets dressed and brushes a hand through his damp hair. Walks back out into the bedroom, sees Namjoon sprawled out across the bed, thinks, nope, and then heads right out the door. 

He can’t bother Yoongi. Well, he could, but he’s not that cruel; Yoongi still looked like he didn’t know whether he was alive or not when they left Jimin and Taehyung’s house, so Seokjin figures he should probably let him sleep. He absolutely cannot speak to Jungkook about any of this, even if he wanted to. It really sucks that he has no friends-

“Hi, Seokjin.” 

Somehow, he’s made his way into the kitchen. Namjoon’s mother, who he came to find out was named Myunghee because Namjoon is an awful son and so rudely forgot to tell him, is standing at the island cutting up various fruits. There’s another woman standing next to her, and it takes all of three seconds before Seokjin realizes she’s related to Hoseok. They look nearly identical. 

“Um, hello,” he says, not sure what to do. Should he turn around and go back upstairs? Should he offer to help? They look like they were in the middle of a conversation and he doesn’t want to interrupt them but he thinks it would be rude to just leave.

“This is Hoseok’s mother, Minseo,” Namjoon’s mother says, pointing to the other lady with her knife. “She’s visiting from Korea for the wedding.” 

Seokjin immediately bows. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Seokjin,” Hoseok’s mother greets him. Seokjin straightens back up and smiles at her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“I’ve told all my friends about my son’s handsome fiance,” Myunghee laughs. She finishes cutting up the last of the watermelon on the board and scrapes it all into a large blue bowl. “Speaking of my son, where is he? I didn’t hear you all come in earlier.” 

“He’s sleeping a bit more before he has to leave,” Seokjin tells her, rocking back and forth on his feet awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, eventually decides on just sticking them in his pockets so they’re not flapping about distractedly. 

“Did you guys party too hard?” Myunghee jokes, leveling Seokjin with a grin. Seokjin smiles and nods his head a little. 

“It was fun,” he tells her, “-but none of us slept well. Jungkook and Yoongi are also napping, I think.” 

“You’re not tired?” 

Seokjin shrugs. He walks over and leans against the counter, guessing that he’s not going to get out of this conversation just yet. “I’m not one for naps usually. Once I’m awake, I’m awake.” 

“Ah, just like my husband,” Myunghee smiles fondly. Hoseok’s mother nods like she can relate. “Will you be going to the venue with them, then?” 

Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi are all in the wedding, as expected. They have to be there early to get ready and, according to Jungkook, “help calm Jimin-hyung down”. Seokjin doesn’t need to be there for any of that, so-

“No,” he tells her. “Namjoon told me I just needed to be there by four.” 

“Hm.” Myunghee picks her knife back up and begins cutting into a cantaloupe. “Well, Minseo and I are heading there around two to help set up some things if you’d like to come with us. Otherwise you can stay here and watch football with Sanghoon until he leaves.” 

Seokjin considers it. He doesn’t really want to spend his afternoon setting up wedding decorations with a bunch of ladies he doesn’t know, but he thinks he probably hates American football more. None of it makes sense to him and he can’t fathom why anyone would want to tackle people for a living. And while Sanghoon is very nice, he does wonder if an afternoon in with him would be anything but horribly awkward. 

“If you don’t mind?” he asks, deciding that if it gets bad he can always just go off in search of Namjoon, since they’ll technically be in the same place. 

“We’d love to have the help,” Myunghee says, smiling as she cuts down on the cubes of fruit. “Just make sure you’re dressed, I’m not sure we’ll have time to come back and get ready before we have to be at the ceremony.” 

“Of course,” Seokjin nods. He glances at the clock on the microwave and finds that it’s almost ten. He’ll start getting ready around the time Namjoon has to leave, he figures. In the meantime, “-would you like any help in the kitchen?” 

Myunghee glances over at Minseo, and the two of them share a look before she turns back to Seokjin and grins. “Such a polite boy. I’m almost done, though. Would you like some fruit?” The look she gives him suggests that he should probably have some fruit. So, he nods, and then Minseo pats the barstool next to her own and he takes a seat. 

“Seokjin,” Hoseok’s mom begins, as Myunghee plates him a heaping pile of different melon cubes. She slides the plate across the counter and then turns to fill a glass from the cupboard with water, before sliding that over as well. “How did you and Namjoon meet?” 

“Thank you,” Seokjin bows his head in thanks to Myunghee before he turns to his left, “-we work together.” 

“For the magazine?” He nods. “How long have you known each other?” 

“I only moved here a little while ago,” Seokjin bites his lip, picking a piece of watermelon out of his pile, “-we’ve been dating for just a few months.” 

“I see,” Minseo says. Seokjin sincerely hopes she doesn’t judge them for it. He doesn’t have Namjoon here to back him up and he still doesn’t know where he sits with his mother. She seems to like him well enough, even called him handsome, but knowing the backstory with Morgan, he expects she’s still a little wary of him. 

“My husband and I got engaged two months after we started dating.” Seokjin picks his head up and looks back over at Minseo, who’s now smiling at him like she understand why he’s so hesitant to talk. “We’ve been together for thirty years,” she says, winking at him. “Not everyone is a Jimin and Taehyung. Don’t let anyone invalidate your relationship because of it.” 

She glances pointedly at Myunghee, and Seokjin lets out a small, startled laugh. 

“Hey!” Myunghee protests, swatting at her friend with a dish towel. “I just want what’s best for Namjoon. After, well…” 

“I, uh,” Seokjin puts the watermelon back down and wipes his fingers on his shorts. “I met Morgan, actually. I didn’t know about her before, I think Namjoon was embarrassed about it, but…” 

“He was young and made a mistake,” Myunghee sighs. She sets the dish towel down and leans her hip against the counter, crossing her arms. “My Namjoonie has a big heart, and a lot of love to give. But I trust him. Seokjin, we’re not worried about you. You two seem...different, anyway.” 

Seokjin is not going to think about what different is supposed to mean he will not think about it.  

“I’m just a protective mother and always want my babies to be happy,” she explains. She lets her arms drop, and then leans across the counter to pat Seokjin’s cheek. “Now eat your fruit and ignore whatever else Minseo has to say. We love you.” 

And oh. Seokjin’s not sure if he’s even going to be able to eat the fruit now, because suddenly his throat has closed up. He might cry. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles, cheeks red hot. Myunghee smiles at him and then turns to busy herself with something else. 

Minseo flashes him another sly grin and an encouraging wink. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, this afternoon won’t be so bad afterall. 

After finishing his fruit, and answering Minseo’s many questions about where he came from and his interests and why he is, apparently, “so handsome”, Seokjin had headed back upstairs to relax before he had to start getting ready. Namjoon woke up around noon and took a shower, and Seokjin ignored all of it as he read on his phone (though he didn’t get much reading done while Namjoon was sifting through his bag for a shirt, so). 

As he was packing a bag with his hair products and a few other toiletries, Namjoon promised Seokjin that if the ajummas and his mother got to be too much, he’d come to his rescue. He gave him a small smile and a hesitant wave, and then he was off, and Seokjin allowed himself five minutes to sit on the edge of the bed and just think about why his life was a disaster before he got up and started getting ready for the day. 

He’s now standing under a large white tent in his Sunday best, sans the overcoat, mostly because he’s currently sweating due to the intensive labor the ajummas have enforced on him. 

He met Jimin and Taehyung’s mothers. Then he was introduced to their aunts, four and five respectively. Myunghee dragged him over to meet Jimin’s grandmother, who then took him over to meet Taehyung’s. And now he’s moving tables so that they resemble a pattern Jimin’s mother had briefly explained to him. 

He’s kind of wishing he had stayed home to watch football with Namjoon’s dad now. There are probably sweat stains on his shirt and he just knows his hair is going to look bad for the actual wedding. 

“Love,” someone says, and Seokjin stops dragging a table to turn and find the voice. He’s met with Taehyung’s grandmother, who cannot possibly stand more than five feet tall, and who has the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. “You look tired, sweetheart. Why don’t you come sit down and have a drink?” 

Well, she doesn’t have to ask him twice. He follows slowly behind her as she leads the way to a table at the back. She gestures for him to sit down in a chair, and then disappears for a few moments before coming back with a cup of what Seokjin thinks is probably lemonade in her hand. She hands it to him and he bows in thanks, before taking a sip and finding that he was, in fact, correct. The cool liquid slides down his throat, and he immediately feels better, perking up as the older woman takes a seat in one of the chairs next to him. 

“Thank you for helping us,” she tells him. She smiles, and Seokjin hasn’t said but maybe five words to her, but she seems like a sweet lady. “But I think the people we’ve hired can probably take care of the rest.” 

Seokjin grins, a little bit grateful. “Ah, well, just tell me what else I can do to help,” he says. He really doesn’t mind it, even if he is hot. He’s here anyway, and there’s really nothing else to do. 

“Everything else should be taken care of by the staff while we’re at the ceremony,” she explains. “I think we’re going to head in and check on the boys soon, and refresh a bit.” 

Seokjin nods. He could benefit from some refreshing for sure. He didn’t bring anything with him, but he saw Namjoon pack deodorant and cologne, so he supposes they could just share. 

“Okay,” he says. He looks around, and it seems everyone else has already moved either inside or to another part of the venue. He turns back to Taehyung’s grandmother and smiles. “I can go-” 

“Sit, sit,” she says, because Seokjin has begun to stand from his chair. He does as told, confused, folding his hands in his lap as he looks around nervously. He wonders if he did something wrong, suddenly questions if he moved the tables to the wrong place or something. Before that they had him carrying in flowers, and he’s worried that he may have crushed one of them. 

“Don’t look so scared,” Taehyung’s grandmother laughs, and Seokjin realizes that she’s got the same boxy smile her grandson has. It’s horribly endearing. “I was just going to ask you if you were alright. You look...troubled.” 

“Oh.” Seokjin clears his throat. Well, he wasn’t expecting to be interrogated today, especially not by someone’s grandmother. He leans back and ponders on the question. Troubled.  

“I don’t mean to pry,” Taehyung’s grandmother says to him. “I’ve lived a lot of years, though, and know when someone is upset.” 

And Seokjin doesn’t know what to do with that. Despite his near-mental breakdown this morning, he thought he was okay, at least outwardly. But apparently he’s more transparent than he thought. 

He’s not going to vent to this lady he barely knows, though. “I’m okay. There’s just a lot going on in my head right now.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she leans over and takes his hand into her own, a reassuring smile on her face. “I know I probably seem like a crazy old lady, but if you need to talk, I’ll listen.” She winks, much like Minseo had earlier. “I’m a good listener.” 

So okay, he might vent to this lady he barely knows. 

Truth is, he’s not really okay. Since he got on the plane to leave for Hawaii, he hasn’t felt like himself. But the more he thinks about things and starts questioning the norm, he realizes that it’s not himself he’s not feeling like, but the Seokjin he’s pretended to be since he got to New York. 

Truth is, he’s felt more like himself, like the old Seokjin who used to smile and laugh and have fun, on this trip than he has in a long time. And that scares him. 

“It’s just some personal stuff,” he eventually mumbles. Taehyung’s grandmother has turned to rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb, and it’s comforting in a way he’s not used to. 

“Is it Namjoon?” Myunghee had introduced Seokjin to everyone as Namjoon’s handsome fiance, so they all know about him. He shakes his head.

“No.” It is, but it isn’t. It’s a lot more than just Namjoon. “I guess I’m just missing home, is all.” 

Because that’s really what it boils down to. There are so many thoughts swimming around in his head, so much newfound knowledge, and he just wishes he had someone to talk to about it all. He wishes he could call his mom and tell her about the cute boy he might (definitely does) have a crush on. He wants to tell his dad about how well he’s doing in his new position. He wants to video chat with his best friend and gossip like they used to. 

He misses his home. His misses his family. He misses having friends. And being in Namjoon’s home, with his family, and his friends, is just making it all worse. 

Taehyung’s grandmother nods like she understands exactly what Seokjin is going through. She knows nothing about him, and Seokjin knows nothing about her, but perhaps she can relate a little. He’ll listen to what she has to say either way. 

“Do you still talk to your parents?” she asks. Seokjin shakes his head, because he can at least tell her that. “I see. And I bet being here is making it worse.” 

Seokjin snorts a little, nodding his head because she’s got it spot on. 

“Sometimes the people who are supposed to love us the most turn out to be our worst enemies,” she tells him. Seokjin figures she at least understands a little about why he doesn’t talk to his parents anymore. She’s got a gay grandson, after all. “The world is unfair like that.” 

The world has been more than unfair to Seokjin lately. He wonders what he possibly could’ve done in a past life to deserve any of this. 

“You seem like such a sweet boy,” Taehyung’s grandmother continues. “You must be special, if Namjoon is willing to bring you around this crazy bunch.” She smiles and Seokjin can’t help but reciprocate it, grinning down at where her hand is still touching his. 

“He’s great,” Seokjin can’t help but say. “He’s helped me through a lot lately. Sometimes I don’t know how to express my feelings to him, or show him how much he means to me.” 

I don’t know how to tell him that this may mean more to me, he means to say. 

“Ah, Namjoon is a smart man,” Taehyung’s grandmother says, smiling fondly like she’s remembering all of the great things about Namjoon. “I’m sure he knows just how much you care for him. Plus, that boy has never been one for grand gestures. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 

Seokjin did, in a roundabout way. Maybe not in the way Taehyung’s grandmother meant it, but he knows. He doesn’t have to shout out some grand confession for Namjoon to get it. 

“Seokjin,” suddenly her face is serious, and Seokjin holds his breath in anticipation for what she’s about to tell him, “-sometimes bad things just happen to good people. I can tell you’re a good person, and that you don’t deserve whatever has happened to you. But you’re here now, and you’ve got people that love you all around.

“Family doesn’t have to mean blood. Jimin and Jungkook and Namjoon and Hoseok, and even that sweet Yoongi boy, they’re all like my own grandsons. Namjoon loves you, so I know that you’re deserving of my love too.” 

And well shit, is that a tear rolling down his cheek? 

“I’m sorry you’re going through a tough time right now, and it might seem like you’re alone but just know that you’ve now got a whole lot of people on your side that are rooting for you.” She pauses and smiles at Seokjin, something Seokjin can only describe as a grandmotherly smile, and he tries his best to grin back though he’s sure it’s watery. “Found family is just as good, and sometimes even better than family by blood.” 

She looks like she wants to say more, but something above Seokjin’s shoulder catches her eye. He turns around, quickly swiping at his face with his free hand, and when he finally blinks his eyes back open of course he finds Namjoon standing before him. 

“Hey,” he says softly, concern written all over his face. “Taehyung’s mom told me to come find you, said you might need to fix up before the ceremony.” 

“Oh, that brat,” Taehyung’s grandmother says. Her hand leaves Seokjin’s and she slowly stands up, gripping the table for support. “Seokjin does not need to ‘fix up’. He’s very handsome. If I didn’t like Jimin so much, I’d want him for Taehyung.” 

“Thanks,” Namjoon snorts, deadpan. Seokjin stands from his own chair and the minute he’s on his feet, Namjoon grabs his hand. “All of our moms are in the grand room, would you like us to walk you there?” 

“No,” Taehyung’s grandmother says stubbornly, “-I want you to take your boy back and make him happy again.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Namjoon tells her, fond smile on his face as he glances down at Seokjin. Seokjin has to turn his head less he wants his blush to be obvious. “Thank you for keeping him company while we were getting ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a sweet man, Namjoonie,” Taehyung’s grandmother tells him. She looks at Seokjin then, and smiles. “Remember what I said, son. You’ve got a world of people that love you.” 

“Thank you,” Seokjin mumbles. He hesitates, thinks that maybe it might come off as too forward, but decides to just go for it as he leans in and hugs the older lady. She immediately melts into him and hugs back, petting his hair in the same comforting way she had done with the back of his hand. When they pull apart she smiles up at him, and pats his cheek. 

“You two go on now. I’ll see you at the ceremony.” 

They both say their goodbyes, and then Namjoon pulls Seokjin away and towards the old vintage home they’ve been getting ready in for the past couple of hours. He doesn’t say anything as they walk, and Seokjin expects him to just take him to the others and pretend like nothing out of the ordinary happened, but instead the younger pulls him into a family restroom and locking the door behind them. 

“Are you okay?” 

And Seokjin is...not. He tried his best to hold it all in while Taehyung’s grandmother was talking to him, especially considering she was saying all the things he had needed to hear for quite some time, but now that she’s gone and he’s had time to process everything he just-

He breaks. 

He doesn’t get to see Namjoon’s reaction. Doesn’t know if he’s confused, or disgusted, or wants nothing to do with Seokjin in this state. Doesn’t really give him much of a choice anyway, because he leans forward and buries his face in Namjoon’s chest and begins to cry. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, one hand going to Seokjin’s back, the other to his hair. “I’ve got you, you’re all right. Breathe, hyung.” 

Seokjin tries. Thinks about found family and rooting for you and we love you and he feels so, so bad, because he’s deceiving Taehyung’s poor old grandma and the rest of their family, and yet here he is, crying into Namjoon’s neck like he’s some kind of victim in all of this. 

“I think I need to go home,” he eventually chokes out. He steps back from Namjoon’s grip and takes a deep breath, tears still streaming down his face. “I- I need to go home. I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Hyung, what?” Namjoon takes a step back, peering down at Seokjin with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?” 

Seokjin doesn’t want to repeat what Taehyung’s grandmother had said. Doesn’t want Namjoon to tell him that’s it true, that she meant it and he means it too. Doesn’t want him to humor him like that. So instead he shrugs, and he tries to come up with some other excuse, but a fresh wave of emotions hit him and he just- He’s tired.  

“I miss my mom,” he cracks. He misses his entire life in Korea, before he met Beomseok, but he especially misses his mom. He can’t go back, at least not now, but he wishes he could. 

“Oh, hyung,” Namjoon whispers. He steps forward again and brings Seokjin into his chest, and Seokjin goes without complaint, burying his face right back into Namjoon’s neck. 

They stay like that for a long time. Seokjin thinks he’s cried himself dry, that there’s no more tears left in his ducts, and just stands there and sniffles as Namjoon rubs his hands up and down his back. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to pull back again. Namjoon lets him go easily but stays close, hovering behind his shoulder as Seokjin turns to look at himself in the mirror. He looks terrible. His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks are splotchy and his hair is completely ruined. He’s going to need some major damage control done before he can go into the ceremony, that’s for sure. 

“Hyung,” Namjoon says quietly. Seokjin looks away from the mirror, and when he turns around, he finds that Namjoon has shuffled impossibly close. “I don’t know what you and Taehyung’s grandma talked about but…” he trails off, like he’s not quite sure what he wants to say. Seokjin bites his lip and looks down at his shoes. “I’m glad you came to Hawaii.” 

Seokjin snorts. Sure, he thinks. They may have reconciled, but he’s positive Namjoon would’ve had a lot more fun this weekend if he wasn’t there. He doesn’t get a chance to say this, however, because Namjoon cuts him off before he can even start. 

“I’m serious. I think it was...good for us.” Seokjin gives him a look like, what the hell? Namjoon rolls his eyes and continues. “Think about it. We would’ve still been fighting in the office if you hadn’t come. Now we’re friends and-” Namjoon stops and shrugs, like that says it all. It doesn’t, Seokjin would like to know what else is going through his head, but he also just wants to stop having emotions so he doesn’t press it. 

He sniffs. “I’m still going to yell at you when you throw eraser bits at your computer monitor.” 

Namjoon lets out a startled snort, his head hanging down as his shoulders shake with laughter. Seokjin bites back a smile and pats the younger’s head. 

“Okay,” Namjoon mumbles. “That’s- yeah, that’s fine. As long as you stop glaring at me through your window.” 

“I don’t-” 

“You do,” Namjoon chuckles. “Every day. Like, multiple times throughout the day.” Seokjin scrunches up his nose. “Don’t make that face. I mean, it’s not really threatening. You’re cute when you do it, so.” 

Seokjin’s face heats up and he smiles, pushing Namjoon’s shoulder. “Stop,” he whines. 

Namjoon wraps his arms around Seokjin’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug. Seokjin goes easily, melting into him like it’s second nature. And maybe that should be concerning, but maybe he should just stop thinking about it and finally just let things happen. 

“You can always talk to me,” Namjoon mumbles into his hair. Seokjin makes no move to pull away from him. “About anything. Except maybe not now, because we need to fix your face and I was supposed to be back probably ten minutes ago.” 

Seokjin snorts, pushing away from Namjoon’s chest. “Yah, I’m not that ugly!” 

“No, you’re not,” Namjoon agrees, fond written all over his face. Seokjin feels alive. “But I still think we should fix your hair.” 

“Whatever,” Seokjin mumbles, completely teasing now. “I’ll still be the most handsome man in the entire room.” 

“Of course, of course,” Namjoon laughs, rolling his eyes. He reaches down and grabs Seokjin’s hand, pulling him towards the door. He stops right before he gets there though, his hand stilling on the knob as he looks back at Seokjin. “You’re okay, right? I- I don’t want you to go home.”

Even if Seokjin wanted to, he couldn’t right now, so that point is moot anyway. And even so, he never really meant that he actually wants to go home. He just wants it all to stop hurting so much. 

“I’m okay,” he says. He isn’t, not really, but right now he needs to be because he can’t ruin Jimin and Taehyung’s big day. “I don’t want to go home either. I just...needed to cry, I think.” 

Namjoon flashes him a shy smile. “Okay,” he mumbles.  He squeezes Seokjin’s hand. Doesn’t say anything else, but Seokjin thinks he doesn’t need to. Leads him out of the bathroom, flashes a smile back at Seokjin every few steps, and it feels right.  

It feels right. 

Jungkook fixes his face for him; turns out the kid is highly skilled in makeup application. A girl named Seunghee, who’s one of Jimin’s groomsmaids, restyles his hair until it looks less like a bird’s nest and more like he actually takes care of himself. Namjoon lets him borrow his deodorant and cologne and before Seokjin knows it, he’s back to looking nice again. 

They’re thirty minutes out from the ceremony now. Namjoon’s hand is in his own again; the younger is tugging him down to the altar area, because he has to line up soon and wants to make sure Seokjin has a seat. Seokjin reminds him, multiple times, that he’s a grown man and can find his own damn seat, but Namjoon won’t budge. 

“I’ll just sit by your parents,” Seokjin whines, because Namjoon is dragging him around, weaving between guests as he makes his way to the rows of chairs set out. It’s a beautiful venue, it really is, Seokjin would like to sit down and admire it but can’t because Namjoon is pulling him around like he’s a dog.  

“Hey.”

They both turn around, and isn’t it funny? Isn’t funny how Seokjin’s life just seems to be one big romantic comedy? 

“Hi, Morgan,” Namjoon says, and outwardly he looks fine, but his grip tightens on Seokjin’s hand so he guesses he’s probably not. 

“I overheard you guys talking, and, well,” she pauses, biting her lip, and Seokjin realizes she’s actually very pretty and, oh no, he thinks, what if this brings back memories what if Namjoon decides to like her again what if what if what if. 

He glances up at Namjoon. The younger has a bored look on his face. He supposes he should give him more credit than that. (And why does he even care? God, too many things are happening to him right now, he needs to lie down.) 

“If you want, Seokjin can sit with us,” she offers. Seokjin kind of hates how they’re talking about him like he’s not right there, like he’s a child that needs decisions to be made for him. He knows Namjoon is just nervous about the wedding, can tell because he’s been bouncing around for the last hour and he’s only ever done that when they’ve had a big presentation or conference at work. Still, he can very well choose where he wants to sit himself, thank you. 

“Sure!” he answers before Namjoon has a chance to say anything. Theoretically he should not be sitting by his date’s ex but, well, it’s either that or be the token Young Person in a row full of aunties and uncles. He doesn’t want to be the token Young Person. 

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, voice quiet and eyes searching. Seokjin rolls his eyes and nods, giving him a look like what, you think I can’t handle myself?  

“Yep!” Seokjin cheers happily. Morgan is watching them curiously, and Seokjin decides to give her a show, reaching up and pressing a kiss to Namjoon’s cheek before tapping his ass and pulling away. “See you up there, stud.” 

He’s joking of course, but Namjoon’s cheeks color a pretty shade of red and he stammers as he tries to find the right words to reply. He gives up when it’s clear nothing is coming, however, and instead just flashes a smile at Seokjin before walking away. 

Morgan snorts. “I wanted to hate you, but you guys are so damn cute.” 

“O-oh,” Seokjin turns and stares at Morgan, wide-eyed. “Um, thanks?” 

“Yeah.” Morgan shrugs, and then gestures for Seokjin to follow her. “I was so angry when I went home after meeting you. But, it’s clear as day he loves you a lot.” 

“Really?” Seokjin asks. He’s surprised to hear it. Mostly people have just told them they don’t believe them. 

“Yep,” Morgan nods. “He used to look at me like that. I’m happy for you guys.”

She leads him over to a row four back from the front, on the right side of the venue. Seokjin tries his best not to trip as he walks, because suddenly his mind is filled with he used to look at me like that. He wants to ask like what, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that answer. Thinks it’s probably best if he just lets the conversation drop there. 

“These are more of Jimin’s friends from school.” They sit down in two empty chairs at the end of the row, and Morgan points to a group of three other people. “Melia, Kekoa, and Lauren.” 

“Hi,” Seokjin waves to them. They wave back, bright smiles on their faces. 

“This is Namjoon’s fiance, Seokjin,” Morgan introduces him. A moment passes where no one says anything, and Seokjin can tell none of them were expecting that. But then Kekoa, who’s quite frankly very gorgeous and has big, soft brown eyes, reaches over with his hand stuck out and grins. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. Something tells Seokjin they might not be as close to Namjoon as they are with Jimin, because Kekoa doesn’t say anything else. He’s grateful for it. 

“You too,” he manages, shaking the other’s hand. People are starting to fill in around them and when Seokjin pulls back and looks down at his watch, he finds that they’re only ten minutes out from the ceremony. 

The four others talk amongst themselves, but Seokjin finds he can’t really relate to anything they’re saying so he stays quiet. He checks his phone, finds Namjoon’s mother in the crowd and flashes her a reassuring smile and a thumbs up when she gives him a questioning, concerned look. Eventually puts his phone on airplane mode and shoves it into his back pocket when people start quieting down and the officiant walks up to the altar. 

Jimin has done a really nice job with the decorations. Seokjin really had no expectations, but if he did they would’ve been blown out the water by now. Their colors are ivory, olive, light grey and blush pink, and everything is just very soft and pretty. He still doesn’t know Taehyung and Jimin very well, but he thinks it’s very them. 

There’s a pianist and a violinist in one of the corners, and together they begin playing a soft melody that fills the breezy outdoor air. It starts off slow, and when it starts picking up everyone turns their attention to the aisle where the first couple has begun making their way to the altar. It’s Yoongi, and a girl Seokjin doesn’t know the name of but recognizes from Jimin’s dressing room, and he tries very hard not to meet Yoongi’s eye because he thinks that if he does, he’ll start laughing. Not because it’s funny but because, well. He never thought he’d see Yoongi in a wedding. 

The next couple to walk down the aisle is Namjoon and another girl Seokjin has not seen before. He pays little attention to her, however, and instead focuses on Namjoon. He looks incredible, in olive trousers and a flowy white button up. His hair is styled off his forehead, and Seokjin saw him before he sat down, he doesn’t know why he suddenly can’t breathe, but all at once it seems to come crashing down on him that he might be a little bit in like with Kim Namjoon. 

He must do something, because Morgan reaches over and pats his hand, which is gripping his knee christ he’s weak, and gives him a soft, reassuring smile. 

He honestly could not tell you what happens next. Somehow they go from an empty altar to an altar filled with Yoongi and Namjoon and Hoseok and Jungkook and four beautiful girls. Then the music is changing, the violinist playing a slower song without the help of the pianist, and Seokjin turns because he’s expecting either Jimin or Taehyung to start walking down the middle aisle. 

They don’t. Instead they both come in from the sides, and join together at the altar between all of their friends. It’s all very dramatic, but also very sweet, and Seokjin doesn’t judge the lady in front of him when she bursts into tears. 

The officiant begins saying a lot of words. Seokjin doesn’t really listen to them. He spends his time staring at Namjoon, or the ground, or picking at his cuticles. Weddings have never been his thing; he appreciates the beauty of them, and the significance, but, well, he’s bored. 

Jimin and Taehyung’s vows are both short and simple, but have the majority of the attendees in tears by the time they’re done. They talk about a forever love and Taehyung says something about a winter bear, Seokjin thinks he’s heard that correctly, and Jimin makes an ugly choking sound before he starts sobbing. Seokjin lets his gaze drift then, and it just so happens to stumble on Namjoon who, which, wow. Namjoon is already staring at him. 

He smiles. Makes a face that has Namjoon grinning amusedly. Rolls his eyes when Jimin says something particularly cheesy and Namjoon has to bite back his laughter, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he hastily turns away from Seokjin. Seokjin grins and looks back down at his shoes, face hot and heart exploding with emotion. 

The ceremony doesn’t last long. After their personal vows the officiant has Jimin and Taehyung repeat the standard state vows, and then announces that they can kiss, seal the deal. The crowd awes and laughs and coos when Taehyung dips Jimin and kisses him for a solid thirty seconds. It’s very cute. 

Jimin and Taehyung head down the middle aisle to cheers and calls of congratulations. Their wedding party follows behind them, and then their families do. Seokjin waits until they’re out of view, and then decides that he might as well follow them because everyone he knows is with the group. He turns to Morgan, who’s wiping her eyes with a tissue Melia has just handed her, and asks- “is the reception right after this? Namjoon didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Of course he didn’t,” Morgan laughs, wetly. “No, there’s a cocktail hour while they take pictures, and then the reception starts at eight.” 

Ah. So he has a bit of time.

“Oh,” he pulls his phone out and takes it off airplane mode. “I’m going to go find Namjoon. I think his mom wanted pictures of us,” he lies.

“Okay,” Morgan nods. “I’ll see you at the reception, yeah?” 

Seokjin nods. “Yeah. And thank you for letting me sit by you guys.” 

Morgan smiles. Seokjin decides he likes her well enough. “I figured it would be better than sitting with all of the parents.” 

Seokjin chuckles and nods. He bids Morgan, and the rest of them, a goodbye and then walks off in search of Namjoon. He’d even settle for Hoseok right now, he just wants a familiar face to talk to. There is a group of people congregated at the end of the aisle, and he thinks he can see Namjoon’s hair sticking above everyone else, but when he turns to start heading in that direction he walks right into someone. 

“I’m so sorry- Heeyeon!?”  

The woman he had ran into steps back a little and runs a hand down her dress, before looking up and-

“Seokjin?!”  

No, Seokjin thinks, it can’t be. He must be seeing things. There’s absolutely no way Ahn Heeyeon is standing in front of him, in Hawaii, at Jimin and Taehyung’s wedding. 

“Wh-” he doesn’t even know what to say. “What the fuck?”  

“What are you doing here?” Heeyeon hisses. She looks around, like she’s afraid they’re going to get caught, and then reaches down and grabs his wrist. She tugs him forward and he goes easily, following behind her as she walks them over to a quieter area, one where there are less people milling about.

“What are you doing here?” Seokjin asks instead. He’s torn between wanting to step forward and wrap Heeyeon in a hug, and screaming in her face before stomping away. 

He hasn’t talked to her since before the whole thing with Beomseok blew up. They used to be best friends. They grew up together, attended university together, worked together. They did everything together. Heeyeon was his person; until she wasn’t, until Seokjin was outed and everyone who used to be someone to him stopped speaking to him. 

Seokjin has spent a lot of time hating Heeyeon. He couldn’t understand why his best friend would just throw him away like that, always thought that she would be accepting of him, would love him no matter what. Losing Heeyeon hurt almost as much as losing his mother. 

“Taehyung is Soobin’s cousin,” Heeyeon tells him, gesturing off to the side where Seokjin is sure her boyfriend is standing. Her face is sad, closed off in a way that Seokjin isn’t used to from her. It’s been a year, though. He doesn’t know her anymore. 

“Small world,” he laughs bitterly. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I know them,” is what he says to her. He doesn’t owe her an explanation. That’s what he tells himself, but a tiny voice in the back of his mind says y ou can’t lie to her about this. It’s Heeyeon.  

It’s awfully quiet for a few moments. Seokjin wonders if she’s just going to leave, deem him not worthy enough of her time and pretend this never happened. She doesn’t, though; she steps forward, keeps her voice low and says-

“Why didn’t you call?” 

Seokjin laughs, bitter. “Why didn’t I call? You didn’t call,” he mutters. He always thought she would. For months kept telling himself one day he’d see her name light up on his phone again. She didn’t, though. It was radio silence. 

“Seokjin you- you disappeared. I only heard what happened when I went back to work after I got home from vacation” -Seokjin remembers that, remembers his best friend wasn’t there when shit hit the fan because she was busy lounging on the beach in the Bahamas- “I tried to call your mom, but she wouldn’t talk to me. Beomseok wouldn’t show his face.”

Seokjin looks down at his shoes, scuffs his toe against the pavement. 

“The next time I even saw anything from you, you were posting pictures from your new job on Facebook. You looked happy. I figured you must’ve been hurt by what happened, and were trying to move on and I...didn’t want to be the person to hold you back, if what you needed was to just start over.” 

You should’ve called, Seokjin thinks. I should’ve called. He looks up, and Heeyeon has tears in her eyes. 

“I wasn’t happy,” he mumbles. “I missed you.” Heeyeon’s face breaks and she pulls him into a hug, her small arms squeezing around his neck protectively. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she tells him. “I missed you too, Seokjinnie. So much. I should’ve called.” 

“I should’ve too,” he tells her. He should’ve done a lot of things. He should have tried to work things out with the people back home. He should have tried to talk to his mom, his dad. He should not have ran, maybe. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Heeyeon whispers. She pulls away, but just barely. Seokjin tucks her under his chin. “It’s like, it’s like fate.”  

“Maybe,” Seokjin chuckles. He’s still upset, he’s still angry. A part of him will probably always be a little hurt, a little mad, both at Heeyeon and at himself. But he’s got his best friend here with him right now, and he’s not going to take advantage of that. He doesn’t know when he’ll see her again. 

“How do you know Jimin and Taehyung?” Heeyeon asks him. She’s not asking about what happened, and Seokjin appreciates that. At least she remembers that about him; how he doesn’t like to talk about his emotions.  

He considers telling her the truth. Thinks that having someone else besides Yoongi and Namjoon on the inside might help him a little, might put his mind to ease. But they’re not the same anymore, he and Heeyeon, and he owes it to Namjoon to stick to the story while so many people he knows are around. He can’t take that risk. 

“I uh,” he doesn’t know how he should phrase it, “-my, um, fiance, he’s uh...he was in the wedding.” 

“Your what?!” Heeyeon pulls away from him and maybe Seokjin was expecting her to be disgusted with him, why, he asks himself, when she’s at a gay fucking wedding, but instead she tears up again and smiles at him. “Really?” 

“Uh, yes?” he says. He looks around, wonders if anyone else is watching them, if they think it’s weird too. 

“I’m so happy for you,” Heeyeon squeals. “Which one was yours?” 

Seokjin snorts. “The tall one,” he tells her, “-with the dimples.” 

“Oh man,” Heeyeon says. She’s gripping his forearms now, like she’s genuinely excited for him. It’s...nice. Different. Seokjin doesn’t know how to feel about it. “He was so cute. How the hell did you bag that?” 

“Hey!” Seokjin laughs, swatting her away. “What, you think he’s too good for me?” 

“No, no!” she giggles. “He just looked so sweet! Tell me everything though, how you met, when you-” 

She stops, and Seokjin quirks his eyebrows. He’s about to ask if he did something wrong, but then a hand lands on his shoulder and he startles, turning around to find the man in question himself.

“Hey,” Namjoon smiles down at him, and Seokjin’s kind of getting sick of that. Namjoon interrupting him, smiling at him and reducing him to a puddle of goo. “Sorry, did I interrupt?” 

Yes, Seokjin wants to say, because he’s not really ready for Namjoon to meet Heeyeon yet, but he just shakes his head and grins. “Nah, it’s okay.” 

“My mom wanted you for some pictures, so…” Namjoon tells him. Oh, Seokjin thinks, so I didn’t technically lie to Morgan. He nods. 

“Yeah, okay,” he turns to Heeyeon, “-you’ll be at the reception, right?” 

“Of course,” she tells him. She flashes a smile at Namjoon, and then looks back down at him. “I’ll talk to you then, yeah?” 

Seokjin nods. Heeyeon squeezes his bicep, where her hand is still on his arm, and then departs. Seokjin waits until he can no longer see her in the crowd before he looks back up at Namjoon. 

“Who was that?” Namjoon asks him. He reaches down and tangles his fingers together with Seokjin’s, but doesn’t start pulling him away. 

“Just an old friend,” Seokjin shrugs. He’ll probably tell Namjoon later, but he doesn’t want to get into that right now. 

“Okay.” Namjoon doesn’t push. “Ready?” 

Seokjin grins. He nods, and then lets himself be tugged away. 

He’s roped into a lot of pictures, more so than he thought he’d have to take when Namjoon mentioned it. Myunghee wants individual shots, shots of him and Namjoon, shots of him and Yoongi, shots of him and Jungkook, shots of him with everyone. She even makes Namjoon take pictures of them together. Seokjin spends all of the cocktail hour taking pictures, but he’s fine with it, mostly because he’d rather smile at a camera for an hour than stand awkwardly off to the side by himself. 

The reception starts soon after. Seokjin departs from the group again, leaving with Namjoon’s parents to go find their table in the reception tent. It’s not long after that that the wedding party makes their entrance, and before he knows it Jimin and Taehyung are finishing up their first dance and everyone is sitting down for dinner. 

It’s a nice dinner. A traditional Korean dinner, with lots of his favorite sides. He converses with Namjoon’s mom and dad, and Hoseok’s parents, who have been sat at the same table as them. Halfway through his meal Namjoon joins them, shoving a chair in next to Seokjin’s and bringing his plate over with him. They stay like that through toasts, family dances, and cake cutting, and it’s only when the DJ announces that the party has begun that Namjoon stands back up again. 

“Want to dance?” he asks Seokjin. His cheeks are flushed; he’s been drinking since he sat down, but Seokjin doesn’t think he’s drunk. Seokjin himself has stuck to water, because he doesn’t want to experience what he felt like this morning ever again. 

“Wait, really?” Seokjin asks. Namjoon hadn’t danced much at the club they went to, so he just assumed he wasn’t the dancing type, drunk or not. But Namjoon just gives him an encouraging smile and nods, so he sighs and shrugs, standing up and admitting his defeat. 

Namjoon could suggest anything right now and Seokjin’s pretty sure he’d do it. 

There are already a lot of people out on the dance floor when they make their way to it. Jungkook is jumping around with Jimin and Taehyung. Seokjin thinks Hoseok is trying to grind on Yoongi, but he can’t be sure. He even catches sight of Heeyeon, who’s got her hands thrown around her boyfriend’s shoulders, her head tipped back as she laughs. He smiles and lets Namjoon pull him over to his friends, right in the middle of the chaos. 

The song that’s playing is upbeat. Seokjin doesn’t really know how to dance, kind of just guessing when he starts shuffling back and forth. Namjoon smiles at him and it’s obvious he doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but oddly enough, it works. Jimin notices them after a little bit and drags them both closer by the hand, and then all of them are jumping around together, even when the song changes. 

Seokjin doesn’t know how long they spend out on the dance floor. He doesn’t know how many girl group songs he pretends to know the choreo to to appease Taehyung. Just knows that he’s having fun, and that the way Namjoon keeps looking at him makes him feel alive. 

Eventually the songs switch to slower ones, and a lot of the older couples make their way to the floor to sway together. Seokjin takes a break when Namjoon’s mom demands a dance with him. He goes back to the table and that’s where Yoongi finds him, sweaty and smiling and so incredibly happy. 

“Hey,” the younger says. He sits down in Namjoon’s chair and immediately downs his water, all in one go. Seokjin snorts. “Where’s Joon?” 

“Dancing with his mom,” Seokjin gestures vaguely to the floor. “Where’s Jungkook?” 

“Went somewhere with Jimin,” Yoongi shrugs. “Hey, you know what he told me tonight?” 

Yoongi’s cheeks are red, and Seokjin thinks he’s been drinking. He’s chatty, and that only happens when he has alcohol in his system. 

“No, what’d he say?” 

“Told me he loved me, said he wanted me to move here with him.” 

Seokjin wonders when they would’ve had the time to discuss this; they’ve been with everyone else since the ceremony. But, they do keep disappearing to the “bathroom”, so he doesn’t question it. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi nods. “So, what now?” 

Yoongi shrugs. He seems so casual, which Seokjin guesses is better than him freaking out about it. “I said we could talk about it. Isn’t it funny? How I’m considering dropping everything for a boy?”  

Seokjin grins. He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, taking a sip of his own water. “He’s a special boy.” 

“Yeah, he is,” Yoongi groans. “What about you and Joon?” 

Seokjin chokes. He sets his glass back down on the table and folds his arms together. “What about me and Namjoon?” 

“I saw the way you guys kept looking at each other during the ceremony. Talk about gross.”  

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “We talked last night. Things are good now.” 

“Well, yeah,” Yoongi says, “-but that doesn’t explain the heart eyes.” 

Well, Seokjin thinks. He wouldn’t say heart eyes-

“I’m just saying, life got a whole lot better when I admitted to myself that I loved Jungkook.” 

And woah, okay, things have suddenly gone from one to one hundred, Seokjin needs to backtrack. 

“I’m not-” 

“Seokjin.” 

“I might,” Seokjin says, “-be a little bit in like with him. So what?” 

“It’s okay if you’re a little bit more than in like with him. I think we’re conditioned to believe that you can only love someone after a certain period of time but, that’s stupid.” Seokjin doesn’t know when this turned into a lecture about love. “Like, how would you feel if Namjoon suddenly disappeared from your life?” 

Seokjin thinks about it. He might be sad. Well, definitely would be sad. He likes having Namjoon around, now that he knows what that’s like. He might even be a little heartbroken.  

Fuck. He makes a face. 

“See?” 

“Fuck off,” he mumbles. 

“Maybe I’d be a little easier on you if I didn’t know that Namjoon felt the same way.” 

The disgruntled face stays on. Seokjin shifts and dutifully ignores Yoongi’s eyes. 

“I thought this whole... thing was stupid at first, because I knew he had a crush on you and I didn’t want him to get hurt,” Yoongi tells him, his voice quiet now. Seokjin looks up and Yoongi looks sincere, no longer teasing him. “I really didn’t think you’d reciprocate those feelings. But if you do, then that’s great, and I really think you should tell him.” 

Seokjin nods. Yoongi is right, really. He’s a big boy, he needs to start talking about his feelings. 

“Ah, Jungkook is back,” Yoongi suddenly stands and wipes his hands on his pants like he’s nervous, “-I’m going to go kiss him. In front of everybody.” 

Seokjin laughs. He likes this Yoongi, hopes he’ll get to see more of him once they’re back in New York. 

“Good luck,” he tells him. Yoongi shoots him a nervous smile and then he’s off, almost skipping back to the dance floor. Seokjin watches him go, but once he’s out of sight his eyes wander until they land back on Namjoon. 

He’s done dancing with his mom now. He’s standing at the edge of the dance floor, talking to a man Seokjin doesn’t recognize. It seems to be just a passing conversation though, because soon the man is walking off and Namjoon is scanning the crowd again. And Seokjin decides, as a slow, mushy love song plays in the background like they’re in some kind of cheesy romantic movie, that he’d really like to kiss Namjoon, too. In front of everybody. 

He gets up and makes his way over to Namjoon. He sneaks up on the younger, putting his hands on his waist and when Namjoon jumps and turns around, Seokjin can’t help but grin. 

“Oh, hey,” Namjoon says. “I was just looking for you.” 

If Seokjin doesn’t do it now, he probably never will. If he starts talking, he’ll probably embarrass himself, so-

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Um.” Namjoon’s eyes are comically wide, he looks like he’s just seen a ghost. “Yeah? Yes, yeah, yes.” 

“Cool,” Seokjin says, and then he leans in and kisses him. He cups Namjoon’s cheek gently, his fingers trembling against his skin, and just barely presses his mouth against the corner of Namjoon’s. But apparently that just won’t do for the younger, because he pulls Seokjin in by his hips and deepens the kiss, and Seokjin can do nothing but melt against his touch and wonder what the hell he was ever doing by denying himself this. 

He doesn’t want to make out in the middle of the dance floor though, so he pulls away before things can get too heated. Namjoon chases his mouth but Seokjin only laughs and pecks him once, twice, and then steps back. 

“People are staring, probably,” he says. He doesn’t know if they actually are, but if he was people he would definitely be staring. 

“So?” Namjoon whines. Seokjin smiles at him and pats his cheek. He’s unbelievably cute. 

“I just told Yoongi that I was a little bit in like with you.” 

“Oh, well,” Namjoon licks his lips, catches his bottom one beneath his teeth. “I’m glad you told me next?” 

Seokjin laughs a little. “Me too,” he mumbles. He doesn’t know how to go about this. What now? They’re technically already engaged, so there’s really no where else for them to go. He settles for something safer. “You look good tonight.” 

“My wedding attire is what made you realize you were a little bit in like with me?” Namjoon mocks him. Seokjin makes an afronted noise, tries to pull away but Namjoon grabs his arm and pulls him into a hug. “You look good too, hyung. I wasn’t going to tell you because Jimin said earlier I was staring at you like you were a piece of meat and I thought that would be weird, but.” 

“I’m glad you think I look as nice as a piece of meat,” Seokjin mumbles. He can’t believe Namjoon just said that to him, but it’s a compliment nonetheless. His can feel himself blushing. 

“So what now?” Namjoon asks him. He seems to be processing this about as well as Seokjin is. 

“I don’t know,” Seokjin shrugs. “This is kind of ridiculous. We were just supposed to get fake married, I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings.” 

“I mean,” Namjoon says, “-what did you expect? Look at me.” 

Seokjin snorts. He pushes away from the hug and levels Namjoon with a look, but it lasts all of three seconds before he’s delving into laughter again. 

“I don’t really know what to do,” Seokjin admits after a few moments. It’s like there was so much leading up to this, and now he’s gone and kissed Namjoon, and told him that he liked him back a little, and then...nothing. The world hasn’t exploded yet, and Seokjin thinks that’s pretty great, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do next. “There’s not really an outline for this. We basically did everything backwards.” 

“Who says we need to follow an outline though?” Namjoon asks him. “I tried the whole outline thing before anyways, and it sucked. This is much better.” 

“What, being forced into a marriage with your boss?” 

“No,” Namjoon says, his voice quiet, and Seokjin was only joking but apparently he’s struck a nerve with the way Namjoon is currently looking at him. “Finding out your longtime hate-crush likes you back, kissing him on the dance floor at your best friend’s wedding.” 

Well, damn.  

“Oh,” Seokjin says, and then because he’s terrible- “yeah, I guess this is much better than what I’m used to, too.” 

Namjoon groans, but it’s a fond groan, and when he leans down and pecks Seokjin’s forehead Seokjin sees fireworks.  

“I’m so glad,” Namjoon tells him, “-your experience with me has been better than being outed in a homophobic environment. Truly, I feel special.” 

“You should,” Seokjin grins. “Hey, speaking of homophobic environment...I have to go talk to someone.” Seokjin suddenly remembers Heeyeon, and his promise to talk to her later.

“Uh,” Namjoon makes a weird face. “Should I be worried?” 

“No,” Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s the friend from earlier. She’s...that’s my best friend, from back home.” 

“Oh, wow.” Namjoon looks hesitant though. “Is everything okay? Why is she here?” 

“She’s dating Taehyung’s cousin, apparently,” Seokjin tells him. “Everything is fine, I just haven’t talked to her since...yeah.” 

“Do you need me to come with you?” Namjoon asks him. Seokjin shakes his head, because he can do it on his own. The awkward part is already over with anyway. He just wants to say hi one more time before Heeyeon leaves. “Okay. I’ll probably be at the table if you do need me, though.” 

“Okay,” Seokjin says, and then- “can I kiss you one more time before I go?” 

Namjoon doesn’t even answer him. Just dips down and kisses him, long and slow, and when he pulls back (with a grin, his stupid fucking adorable dimpled grin) he taps Seokjin’s ass and pushes him on his way. 

Seokjin’s face is bright red, he’s sure of it. It’s horrible. 

He finds Heeyeon at her table. He had spotted her earlier, knew she’d be sitting in the middle with other people he thinks are probably apart of Taehyung’s family. She’s talking with another woman, they’re the only two still at the table, but they seem to wrap up their conversation as Seokjin is approaching. The other lady leaves, and Seokjin takes her spot. 

“Hey,” he says. He’s not sure what he wants to talk about, is really just here because he said he would be. 

“Hi,” Heeyeon says, and then turns a knowing smirk on him. “I saw you kiss your man.” 

“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. He hopes everyone saw him kiss his man.  

“I really am so happy for you,” she says. “I’m sorry you thought I would love you any less because of it.” 

Seokjin shrugs. He knows now that that isn’t true, and there’s no point dwelling on it. They could go back and forth about it all night, but it’s a happy night; he doesn’t want to do that. 

“But tell me everything I’ve missed,” Heeyeon says, like she picks up on his hesitancy. And maybe things will never be the same again, or maybe they will, but for right now he at least has this. 

He dives into his life, what Heeyeon has missed, mostly the good, but a little bit of the bad. He talks about Namjoon and his terrible habit of kicking up his feet on his desk when he thinks no one is paying attention to him. Talks about Yoongi, and his horrible sweaters. Tells her about his apartment and the plethora of plants he’s acquired that he keeps killing on accident. 

Doesn’t say much about how sad he’s been, or how much he’s missed her and his mom and his dad and his old friends because he thinks that’s in the past now. Talks more about Namjoon, about his passion for music, how he sometimes mumble-raps at his desk and it actually sounds good.  

Before he knows it, an hour has passed by. Heeyeon has told him a little about things back home, mostly about her personal life, nothing about the office or anyone he knows. Soobin has joined them and Seokjin knows who he is, barely, and they exchange pleasantries before Heeyeon and Soobin decide they need to head back to their hotel, as they have an early flight in the morning. 

“I’m always a phone call away,” Heeyeon tells Seokjin, after she’s packed her things up and they’re hugging. “And I know you are too. I’ll keep in touch.” 

“Please,” Seokjin says, and he means it. It’s been nice, catching up with her. He’s not against doing it again. 

They keep their goodbyes short and simple because this time, it’s not for good. Seokjin watches them leave and he feels okay. 

It’s a nice change from the norm. 

He makes his way back to the table, expecting Namjoon to be there waiting for him. He’s not, though, and both of his parents are gone too. Seokjin turns to start looking for him, figures he’s probably out on the dance floor again, until he spots him at the wedding party table with Yoongi and-

“My love!” 

He’s drunk. As fuck. He’s also getting down on one knee and Seokjin panics, rushing over to him. 

“What the fuck?” he says, pushing Namjoon back into his chair. He turns to Yoongi, but he looks like he’s going to be as helpful as an infant. Still, “-what the hell happened? I was gone for an hour.”  

“Don’t know,” Yoongi shrugs. “Hoseok brought us shots.” 

Seokjin silently curses Hoseok. He starts to say something else, maybe ask them what kind of shots, but Namjoon is trying to get down on one knee again and he damn near freaks out. 

“Stop! Jimin will kill us if you pull some shit like this at his wedding,” he pleads. 

“I-” Namjoon begins to say, and then he stops. He makes a face, and then- “I might throw up.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seokjin groans. He grabs Namjoon’s hand and tugs him up, dragging him towards the bathroom. He ignores Yoongi’s cackles in the background. 

As soon as they’re through the restroom door, Seokjin pushes Namjoon to a stall. “Please, don’t throw up on me.” 

“I won’t,” Namjoon says. He stands up straight and spins around to face him. “I’m not even going to be sick.” 

“What,” Seokjin mumbles, “-the fuck is happening.” 

“Look, look,” Namjoon says, like Seokjin isn’t currently staring right at him. “Yoongi-hyung and I came up with this.” He gets down on one knee again, wobbly, and Seokjin lets him because at least they’re alone this time. “Kim Seokjin,” he starts, “will you,” -hiccups- “marry me, because I’d like to date you?”

Seokjin blanches. What. He’s sure in Namjoon’s alcohol-muddled brain it made a lot of sense, but he’s confused as hell.  

“What?” he asks. He stares down at Namjoon, his face probably not what one typically looks like when they’re being proposed to. 

“Marry me!” Namjoon hollers, and Seokjin shushes him because fuck he’s loud. “So I can keep you in the country and date you!” 

Oh. Oh. It’s- it’s ridiculous, and yet the best thing Seokjin has ever freaking heard. His face lights up and he grabs the front of Namjoon’s shirt, hauling him to his feet as he laughs, almost uncontrollably so. 

“You’re so stupid,” he giggles, even though he’s so incredibly fond. “I can’t believe you just said that.” 

“Well?” Namjoon ignores him. “Will you?” 

“I mean, I was already going to,” Seokjin tells him, amusement in his voice, “-but yeah, I guess it’s official now.” 

Namjoon grins. “Cool.” 

“Cool,” Seokjin mimics. “That’s what you pulled me in here for?” 

“You wouldn’t let me do it out there,” Namjoon whines. Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“Well, of course not. There were people.” 

“So I had to drag you in here.” 

“I appreciate-” 

“Also I might actually throw up.” Namjoon drops his hands from where they had been resting against Seokjin’s chest and promptly turns around. He stumbles towards a stall, and within seconds he’s vomiting into the toilet bowl. 

Seokjin is so grossed out, he gags every time Namjoon does, but he also thinks he’s never been so in like with someone before. 

Chapter Text

“You need water,” Seokjin laughs. They’ve been back from the bathroom for fifteen minutes; for fourteen of those, Namjoon has been leaning against his shoulder. For the other minute, which had occurred before the last fourteen, he had been saying to Yoongi “I bagged that”. 

“More shots,” Namjoon whines. Seokjin has never seen him like this; he’s properly drunk. His words are starting to slur together, he can’t really sit up straight, he looks like he’s going to pass out any minute now. Yoongi isn’t much better, hasn’t moved from where they left him a bit ago, and it’s honestly kind of funny. The two most well put-together people Seokjin knows, and they’ve been reduced to useless blobs from a string of shots at a wedding. It’s hilarious. 

“You definitely do not need anymore shots,” Seokjin tells him. Namjoon whines again, turns his face into Seokjin’s neck and makes a pathetic gurgling noise. 

“‘M so thirsty.” 

“Then drink some water!” Seokjin says to him. He grabs a glass from the table and pushes it into Namjoon’s hands. “Please. You’re going to feel so bad in the morning.” 

Namjoon doesn’t answer him, instead takes the glass and gulps it all down in one go. It had been a lot of water, Seokjin is a little impressed. When he’s done he places the glass back on the table, nearly drops it before his fingers just barely push it back up, and then folds himself back into Seokjin’s side. “Hold me.” 

“Okay, you big baby,” Seokjin teases. He drapes an arm across Namjoon’s shoulders and pulls him in close, kind of loving the way Namjoon snuggles into him. He tucks his head against Seokjin’s collarbone and grabs onto his shoulder, and maybe the drunken clinginess should be annoying, but Seokjin thinks it’s cute. Namjoon is just...cute, and it’s no longer disconcerting. Seokjin knows what this means. It means Big Feelings, it means he has them, it means they aren’t going away any time soon and that’s okay. He’s accepted it. 

“Wanna go home,” Namjoon mumbles. If Seokjin would let him, he’d probably fall asleep within the next thirty seconds. Seokjin won’t, though, because it’s rude to pass out at your best friend’s wedding, especially before said best friends have even left the venue. 

“Soon,” Seokjin whispers against his forehead. He really would like to leave too; many of the guests are, saying their goodbyes and slipping out through the back entrance. But they can’t do that. He can’t remember exactly, but he thinks Namjoon’s mom is on cleanup duty. Seokjin would feel awful leaving her here while they went home to sleep. 

“Now,” Namjoon whines again, pitiful. Seokjin rolls his eyes and pinches the younger’s side. 

“We can’t, babe,” he says, testing out the pet name. Namjoon either doesn’t hear him, or just ignores it. Or he’s just too drunk to process it. Probably that. Seokjin snorts. “We’ll head home soon. Do you want some food?” 

Namjoon shakes his head, so Seokjin leaves him be. He seems content to just lean against him, and Seokjin has no complaints, so he leans back in his chair and tugs Namjoon closer and lets the party rage on around them. 

Jimin comes over to check on them a few times. He’s not drunk, tells Seokjin he hasn’t even taken a single sip of alcohol, and he doesn’t say why but Seokjin thinks it has something to do with the way Taehyung is swaying into any and everyone he comes across on the dance floor. Hoseok isn’t much better; he keeps going back to the bar, and Seokjin only knows this because at one point, his attention is drawn over to the bartender, who’s yelling at Hoseok, telling him no more.  

Jungkook is okay, though, and comes to sit next to Yoongi periodically. Seokjin doesn’t know if Yoongi actually kissed him or not, since he was preoccupied with his own ventures, but he thinks that he may have since Jungkook keeps lovingly brushing the hair out of his eyes. It’s very cute to watch and eventually Jungkook glances at Seokjin, his face pinched up in worry, and Seokjin rolls his eyes and Jungkook blushes, kisses Yoongi’s forehead, and leaves again. 

Namjoon’s mother visits them once, asks if her son is dead, asks if Yoongi is dead. Seokjin tells her no, he doesn’t think so, and then she leaves again. At one point, he catches her out on the dance floor dancing with Jungkook, and he tries to get Namjoon’s attention because it’s adorable, but he’s failed in keeping Namjoon awake, the younger is dead to the world, unresponsive, a corpse. Seokjin contemplates waking him up because really, this is bad, but he decides against it. Namjoon’s barely breathing anyway, it would take a lot of effort to get him up and Seokjin’s just really not wanting to do that right now. 

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, more and more guests start to leave. At twelve they’ll send Jimin and Taehyung off, Seokjin’s been told they’ll be throwing rice at them. He decides that he’ll just wake Namjoon up, and it looks like Yoongi, too, fifteen minutes before that. There’s still about twenty minutes until then, however, and he can’t really get up, so he pulls his phone out of his pocket and goes to check his email inbox to pass the time. 

He doesn’t get far, though. Someone plants themselves right in front of him and when he looks up he finds Jungkook. The younger boy looks worried, biting his lip and glancing at something behind Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin pockets his phone again and sits up. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Um,” Jungkook mumbles. He starts toying with his fingers, clearly nervous. “There’s someone outside for you?” 

Seokjin’s heart drops, and he freezes. Someone is here for him? He can’t possibly imagine who it could be. He starts formulating a list in his head, Heeyeon, the fucking government. That’s all he can think of and it’s unnerving. 

“Okay?” he starts gently pushing Namjoon off of him. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” 

“I think you should just go out there, hyung,” Jungkook tells him, voice quiet. He really does look scared, and that certainly does nothing to calm Seokjin’s nerves, because he’s pretty sure Jungkook could bench press a car. This is obviously much bigger than a physical threat. 

He finally gets Namjoon off of him, and then stands, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes. “Where are they at?” 

“Out front,” Jungkook tells him. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

Something tells Seokjin that he probably shouldn’t have Jungkook go with him. So he smiles reassuringly, and shakes his head, and then heads off towards the front doors. He can handle this himself, he’s sure it’s something stupid like Heeyeon forgetting her purse, or maybe it’s one of the guys playing a trick on him-

“Seokjin Kim?” He looks up and fuck, it’s a fucking cop. Seokjin gulps and steps out of the main hall. 

“Uh, yeah?” 

The officer pulls a pair of cuffs off his hip. “Seokjin Kim, you’re under arrest for falsifying legal marriage documents in order to obtain citizenship in the United States.” 

“What?!” Seokjin nearly screams, aware that technically his behavior can be used against him in court, he watches Live PD, but what?! “Under arrest for what?”  

And it’s then that he realizes Morgan is standing there, a bit off to the side, her arms folded together and her hip jutted out and Seokjin thinks oh, you bitch.  

“Faking your engagement,” the man says. He looks young, looks like he can’t be any older than Jungkook. He also looks like he doesn’t want to be here. That makes two of us, Seokjin thinks. “An anonymous tip called it in.” 

“Oh, yeah, I see your fucking anonymous tip,” Seokjin gestures wildly towards Morgan. “What the hell?!” 

“I heard you guys in the bathroom,” Morgan spits out. She looks pissed, and a little bit scary, like she could set the world on fire with her eyes if she tried.

“What were you doing in the men’s bathroom?” Seokjin glares at her. Morgan glares right back, and then rolls her eyes. 

“You guys were in the women’s bathroom, idiot,” she tells him. Seokjin thinks about it and...that may be true. He never really checked. He was just trying to get Namjoon to a toilet, and fast. 

Fuck, he thinks, we were in the fucking women’s bathroom.  

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Seokjin turns back to the cop, throwing his hands out. 

“Look,” the cop says. He looks bored. Seokjin wants to say go home then, but, well. “We checked the databases, and you’re on the watch list, man.” Seokjin doesn’t even know what that means. “She got a recording of Namjoon saying he wants to marry you to keep you in the country. Can’t get much worse than that, dude.” Seokjin wants to say call me man or dude one more time, I dare you. He keeps his mouth shut. “We get a lot of fleeing fugitives here, surprisingly. We know how to deal with this.” 

Seokjin is not a fugitive, and quite frankly, he is offended. He opens his mouth to reply, but the officer holds his hand up to stop him. 

“Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” the cop tells him. “You come with me, no struggle, we get you back to New York and they deal with it there. Or I drag you out of here, and prosecute Namjoon, too. Your choice.” 

Seokjin thinks, I’ll run, until he remembers the room of 100+ people only a few yards behind him. As much as he wants to fight this, because they’re right but also really not, he refuses to ruin Jimin and Taehyung’s wedding. He won’t cause a scene. He won’t be that person, won’t put this mess on all of the other people here. 

“Can I at least go back in and tell Namjoon what’s happening?” he asks. He can’t really argue with a recording, not on the front steps of a venue hall. He can argue that they were recorded against their will in a bathroom once he’s back in New York if he really wants to, but here, he’s kind of fucked. He doesn’t see himself getting out of this, not tonight. 

“No,” the cop denies him. Seokjin narrows his eyes. “Can’t risk you running, man.” 

Seokjin sighs. In a way, he thinks he should be more upset about this. Maybe he should be throwing a fit, should be yelling and screaming and thrashing around in the officer’s grip as he drags him to the car. But really, it was bound to happen like this. As great as this weekend has been for him and Namjoon, there was no way they were going to be able to pull this one off. Logistically, it just wasn’t going to happen.

He really just feels disappointed, and a little bit heartbroken. Because finally, finally, he and Namjoon had something great going, and now it’s been ripped from their hands. 

He sighs again, and closes his eyes. His only option, really, is to go with the cop willingly. He’s sure someone will figure out what’s happened and tell Namjoon. And even so, Seokjin will find a way to contact him before he has to leave. Because that’s what’s going to happen, right? He’s going to be sent back to Korea, and he’ll probably never be able to come back, and he’ll never see Namjoon again. 

It’s for the best, though. He can’t let any of this fall back on Namjoon. Won’t let any of this fall back on Namjoon. 

“If I go now,” Seokjin says, “-then nothing will happen to Namjoon, right?” 

“Yeah,” the cop nods. “He’ll be fine, just need you to come with me. He won’t even know.” 

And that’s really what hurts the most. He finally has a taste of what being with Namjoon feels like, finally has what he’s been denying himself for so long, and it’ll just be...gone. And sure, Namjoon will eventually know, but he’ll have to wake up in that uncomfortable chair and wonder where Seokjin went-

“Fine,” Seokjin mumbles. Can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Fine, yeah, let’s just go.” 

He chances a look at Morgan, and she’s smirking at him. She looks so fucking smug, like this is something to be proud of, and Seokjin is repulsed by her. She had been so nice, they had gotten along just fine, and now she’s turned on him, and for what? An ‘I told you so’? He can’t think of anything else, no other motive than just pure evil.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll let Namjoon know where you went,” Morgan tells him sweetly. The cop walks up the stairs and instructs Seokjin to turn around so that he can cuff him. Seokjin does so, grimacing when the man tightens the metal bands to his wrists. 

He resists the urge to reach out and kick her, not giving her the satisfaction as the cop begins walking him away from the venue. 

“I can’t believe you would risk bringing him down with you,” Morgan scoffs, shaking her head with a disgusted little smirk on her face. “He’s so good, and you would’ve just ruined his life to get what you wanted, huh? Pathetic.” 

Seokjin doesn’t respond, but it’s hard to ignore her. The words cut deep; of course, he knows they’re true. Maybe things are different than they were a few days ago, but still, Morgan isn’t wrong. In the beginning, Seokjin was willing to bring Namjoon down with him to keep his Visa. Doesn’t matter that it turned into something real. The base of it all is still there. 

“He probably caught feelings along the way, too, and now he’s going to be heartbroken over a fucking-” 

“That’s enough, Morgan,” the officer says, glaring at her. He turns Seokjin around and starts pushing him away. Morgan doesn’t say another word, and Seokjin doesn’t look back. 

The car isn’t far. The officer doesn’t push him into it, lets Seokjin get in on his own. He does buckle him in, and then gets into the driver’s seat, and Seokjin is quiet through it all. He doesn’t say a word during the entire ride to the station, which isn’t that far after all, and the officer doesn’t talk to him, either. Seokjin stares out the window the whole time, watches as the water passes by, thinks it’s beautiful under the moonlight and then starts crying because he’s emotionally distressed and his heart hurts. The cop ignores him, thank god, and by the time they pull up to the station he’s pulled himself together again. 

Seokjin has watched enough Live PD and Cops episodes to know that he should be taken to get his fingerprint done, and then to a holding cell. Except they don’t do that; the officer leads him through the station and then eventually into an office, where he’s pushed, gently, into a chair. 

He doesn’t have to ask any questions; he supposes his face conveys his confusion well enough. 

“You can sleep in here,” the officer tells him. “Someone from Immigration Services will be here for you in the morning. They’ll take you back to New York.” 

“Am I going to go to prison?” Seokjin asks. He slumps back against the chair. It’s uncomfortable, but better than a cell, he guesses. 

“Probably not,” the man says. “You don’t have anything else on your record. They’ll probably just kick you out of the country and deny future Visas and travel.” 

Well, Seokjin thinks, that’s better than jail. He doesn’t think he’d look very good in orange anyway, and he’d never survive the mess hall. 

“If you need anything just yell, I guess,” the cop tells him. “Someone will be out front. Have a good night.” 

Seokjin scoffs. Have a good night. Yeah, he thinks, while I’m cuffed and sitting in a police station. Having a good night is totally off the table now. He was having a good night, but now he’s not, and he thinks that if he has to look at this man’s face any longer he’s going to scream. 

He glares at him. Eventually the guy takes the hint and leaves. He closes the door behind himself and then Seokjin is left with the silence of the tiny office, the tiny office that apparently, according to the tiny plaque on the desk, belongs to a man named Jim Hubbert. He rolls his eyes. Hubbert. What an ugly last name. 

He sits, uncomfortable, in the ratty chair and doesn’t do anything but stare at the wall for a solid thirty minutes. There’s nothing else to do. He looks at some of the pictures and certificates on the wall, tries to read the titles of the books on the bookshelf behind the desk, kicks at a piece of lent on the floor until it’s too far away to reach without having to stretch. 

And then his mind starts to wander. 

Man, he really thought they were going to get out of this one unscathed. He thought they were going to go home, and ace the interview, and then live their lives together happy and worry free. He wasn’t going to have to go back to Korea, wasn’t ever going to have to worry about that anymore. He had Heeyeon back. He made new friends in Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung and Hoseok. He got closer to Yoongi. He had Namjoon.  

He had Namjoon. He really, really, almost had Namjoon and that sucks even more than the fact that he’s getting deported. Namjoon could’ve been his. Was his. He kissed Namjoon and Namjoon kissed him back and they halfway confessed to each other and Namjoon jokingly, drunkenly proposed to him in a bathroom and it was all real and true and could’ve meant so much for them. 

He thinks back to the plane, and Namjoon’s stupid binder, and the first tear rolls down his cheek when he remembers how do you feel about kids and if he was asked that now he would say maybe I wouldn’t mind it if it was with you.  

He thinks back to the beach and how mad Namjoon had been, how ridiculous it all was, how it went from one to one hundred real fast, how he laid his life out for Namjoon to see and scrutinize and he thinks I would do it again. He makes me feel safe.  

Taehyung’s grandma, the realization and panic and confusion, the first bathroom talk, the wedding, Heeyeon, the kiss, the second bathroom talk. Morgan doing a complete 180, and now this. It sounds like a bad dream, like a nightmare come to life, but Seokjin won’t pretend to believe that he’ll wake up from it any time soon. It’s real. It’s happening. He’s ruined the one good thing he had going for him, ruined it before it even had a chance, and he’s not waking up from it. No one is waking up from it. 

Time ticks by slowly; Seokjin tries his best not to pay attention to it. Watching the clock is just going to make things worse, he knows he’ll start feeling anxious once it gets closer to morning. If he starts doing that to himself, there’s no telling how bad it’ll get. 

He kind of hopes, and it’s a far off dream, but he kind of hopes that Namjoon will come busting through the office doors like his own personal knight in shining armor, will swoop him up and run away into the distance with him in his arms, and they’ll live happily ever after together. Of course, it wouldn’t actually happen that way. But maybe Namjoon will come to save him. Maybe this isn’t the end afterall. 

12:00 a.m. turns into 1:00 a.m. turns into 2:00 a.m. turns into 2:30 in the morning and it’s way past his bedtime, but Seokjin doesn’t feel tired. His eyes are burning and his head throbs and he knows his body needs rest but there’s no way his brain is letting him nod off now. 2:30 a.m. turns into 3:00 a.m. turns into 4:00 a.m. and Seokjin is still staring at the wall, and the floor, and anything even remotely interesting in the office to keep his mind busy. Jim Hubbert’s family photos on his desk are particularly interesting, until they make Seokjin sad because I’m a fugitive now, I’ll never know happiness like that, and then he’s right back to staring at the ugly brown carpet. 

4:00 a.m. turns into 5:00 a.m. turns into 6:00 a.m. and Seokjin is halfway to crazy when suddenly the office door bangs open. He sits up in his chair and turns around and-

“Jesus, did you sleep at all?” 

It’s a man, a man Seokjin does not recognize. He’s scrawny and balding and he’s got a hideous pair of glasses on and Seokjin’s eyes are already on fire from staying open for so long but they really feel terrible now.  

He doesn’t reply. The man takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I’m Mr. Olsen from the Oahu Immigration branch, I’ll be escorting you back to New York today. Now, I haven’t had much sleep, so you’ll have to bear with me.” 

Seokjin quirks an eyebrow. You and me both, buddy.  

“The local enforcements here will have your personal items shipped back to New York in the next couple of days or so. Do you have anything on you right now that I should be aware of?” 

He’s talking about weapons, Seokjin thinks. He shakes his head. 

“Great. Now if you’ll stand and follow me, we’ll be on our way.” 

Well, he thinks. This is it. Seokjin sighs and goes to stand, wobbling a little before he catches his footing and stretches. His back creaks, and his joints hurt from sitting in the same position for so long. On top of the headache and the sluggish demeanor, he feels a little bit like the dead. Still dressed in his wedding attire, he’s sure he looks close to it. 

“Can I at least change before we go?” he mutters, his voice croaky. The plane ride is long, and he knows people are going to stare regardless of his outfit but he’d at least like to be comfortable. 

“Do you have anything with you?” Mr. Olsen asks him. Seokjin shakes his head again because no, he doesn’t, if he had anything he would’ve already changed. “Then no, I’m sorry.” 

“Then can I call someone? I don’t want them to think I’ve gone missing,” Seokjin tries to reason. If not Morgan, then the department should’ve at least had the decency to call someone and let them know where Seokjin was, but he still wants Namjoon to hear it from him. 

“What? Like your fake husband?” Mr. Olsen scoffs, and Seokjin thinks, oh, what a dick. He clamps his jaw and holds back from lunging at the man. “Already taken care of. You just worry about what you’ll tell the judge, Mr. Kim.” 

Seokjin is far too tired for this. He feels like death, probably looks like death, everything inside of his body hurts and his head hurts and his heart hurts and he’s not dealing with it today. Maybe on another day he’d argue or make a snide comment back, but today he’s going to keep quiet. 

“Let’s get going, shall we?” 

Mr. Olsen doesn’t take the cuffs off of him, and Seokjin doesn’t know what he was expecting but his shoulders sag a little when he’s led back through the office the same way he had come from earlier. A new person is at the desk, and the officer that had detained him is nowhere in sight.

Mr. Olsen leads him past the desk and out the front entrance to where a driver is waiting for them by a state car. He shuffles Seokjin into the car and then gets into the front seat, before the driver hops back in his seat and starts the car up. 

“Are we going straight to the airport?” Seokjin asks as the driver pulls out onto the main road. His cuffs are digging into his wrists from where they’re pinned behind his body, and Mr. Olsen eyes him skeptically through the rearview mirror. 

“Yes,” he tells him, “-we’ll get on the plane right on the airstrip. They’ll do a pat down and then we’ll board.” 

“And what’s going to happen when we get back to New York?” 

Mr. Olsen shrugs, and Seokjin resists the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s up to Immigration, but I imagine they’ll take you in for questioning before they decide anything.” 

Inconvenient, Seokjin thinks, but also entirely better than just getting shipped out. He sighs and sinks back in his seat, ignoring the strain on his wrists, and stares out the window for the rest of the ride. 

It does take that long to get to the airport. Seokjin doesn’t have the layout of the island down yet, so he generally has no idea where he is at any given time, but it doesn’t seem like the police station is that far from anything. That, or he’s just out of it, which would probably make more sense because he feels like he’s in an alternate universe with how tired he is. 

True to Mr. Olsen’s word, the driver takes them straight to a gated entrance on the airstrip, which they’re allowed through once badges are shown and they’re identified by another officer. It’s weird driving next to gigantic planes, and Seokjin kind of feels like he’s in an action movie, until he remembers he’s literally in police custody and then it’s not so fun anymore.

After the car is parked and they’re all out standing on the pavement, a few crew members walk up to them and begin pat downs and security checks on both Seokjin and Mr. Olsen. They ID them once more, and go through a list of questions that Mr. Olsen answers, and then escort them to a private boarding gate on the side of the plane. One man leads Seokjin by the arm, and another walks on his other side, and it’s all a little ridiculous considering all Seokjin has done is falsify a marriage document, kind of. 

Once on the plane, they get seated in a row of seats in the third row. Around them are a bunch of nicely dressed white ladies and businessmen. Every person from row one to six glares at Seokjin, and he supposes he might be a little wary too, but come on. He’s in wedding attire. He can’t imagine ever thinking someone who looked like him would be inherently dangerous. 

They must’ve been the last people to board the plane, because almost a minute after the man who had escorted Seokjin from the car has the seatbelt clipped around him, a flight attendant begins speaking. She says the same things Seokjin has heard over a dozen times before; emergency procedures, keep your seatbelts on until the light goes off, the flight will be six hours long, since they’re stopping at LAX, but this same flight is continuing on to New York so they have to stay on the damn plane. Seokjin tunes most of it out. 

The plane has already begun moving by the time the flight attendant is done with her speech. It’s making its way around the airstrip, and Seokjin takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat. The guard that held onto his arm at least had the decency to adjust his cuffs and move them to the front of his body, so he’s at least able to fully sit back now. 

He’s never really liked take-off. Last time he had Namjoon and Yoongi with him, and even if things weren’t what they are now between him and Namjoon he still felt way more comfortable and safe than he does now. He knows it’s not going to be any fun for him, even if take-off is smooth, so he closes his eyes and tries to think about literally anything else. Something not related to what’s currently happening to him. 

The overhead speakers crackle to life. 

“It seems like there’s a bit of trouble out on the airstrip today. We will keep you updated, but for right now we’re going to halt take-off. Please stay in your seats with your seatbelts on.” 

Immediately the aircraft erupts in murmurs, people whispering about threats and danger and maybe it’s air traffic. But Seokjin’s eyes fly open, and he knows.  

He’s sitting in the window seat, with Mr. Olsen caging him in from his right side. Seokjin uses his shoulder to pull the window cover over and nearly starts laughing at the scene that greets him. 

Oh, it’s them all right. He’s got the perfect view. There are three golf carts parked right in front of the plane, blocking it from turning down the strip. In the first cart is the driver, but also some formal looking official, Namjoon’s father, and Namjoon. In the other two carts behind them sits Morgan, all of the rest of the guys, and to Seokjin’s surprise, Heeyeon.  

He really starts laughing then. He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating or not, but either way, it’s hilarious. The entire thing...Seokjin thinks, this cannot be happening. It just can’t.  

“Why are you laughing?” Mr. Olsen asks him, leaning over to peer out the window. The minute he peeks out, his face falls, and he starts to grumble. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he says. “Are they yours?” 

Seokjin nods. A small, satisfied little grin falls onto his face. 

Mr. Olsen unbuckles his seatbelt and begins to stand; a flight attendant starts pointing at him, telling him to sit back down. 

“Those people out there are here for us,” he explains, not sitting back down. Seokjin continues to smile and hopes he causes enough disturbance they’ll be kicked off the plane. 

“Sir-” the flight attendant begins, but is cut off when another sticks her head out into the cabin, a phone pressed to her ear. 

“Kim, it’s an Air Marshal. They need to speak with a Mr. Olsen.” 

Seokjin snorts. Mr. Olsen rolls his eyes and holds his hand up. “That’s literally me.” 

Kim sighs and waves him forward. He goes and disappears behind the curtain. He’s gone for awhile; Seokjin spends this time being dutifully watched by a buff looking man from first class and two different flight attendants. He pays them no attention, though, and instead continues to stare out the window. 

He can make all of them out quite clearly. The important looking official, who he assumes is the Air Marshal, is speaking through a box phone. Namjoon’s father stands next to him; he’s got his arms crossed, and Seokjin can’t tell if he’s bored or angry. Likely both, which, valid.  

Namjoon is sitting, and even from this far up Seokjin can tell he’s stressed. He’s got one hand over his mouth, the other arm wrapped around his torso, and he’s hunched over where he sits on the back of the golf cart. 

It’s not exactly the dramatic entrance Seokjin’s sleep-muddled brain conjured up at the police station, but it certainly is something. Namjoon stopped an entire plane for him. He thinks he’s kind of, totally in love. 

“Do we even have that many seats open?” one of the flight attendants asks Kim, peeking her head out behind the curtains again. Seokjin watches as Kim turns and begins walking down the aisle counting, what he presumes, all of the open seats on the aircraft. She walks back and sighs, before nodding her head. 

Seokjin preens. He assumes that this means they’re all getting on with him. He doesn’t know why, or what’s going on, or what’s going to happen when they board but, well. This is good. Very good. 

“Attention everyone,” a voice crackles over the intercom. Seokjin looks up and finds Kim with the mic. “We’re going to be pulling back into a gate and boarding a few people. If you have an empty seat next to you, know that it will most likely be occupied within the next few minutes. We’re very sorry for the inconvenience, and hopefully we’ll be in the air soon!” 

The plane begins moving; Seokjin looks back out the window, no longer spotting the golf carts. As they pull into an empty gate, Mr. Olsen comes back out from the attendants station and sits down again. 

“What happened?” Seokjin asks him. It obviously pertains to him, so he thinks he has a right to at least ask.  

“They’re coming to New York with us,” Mr. Olsen bites. He looks angry, and also like he just ran a marathon. 

Seokjin sits up. “Yeah? What did they say?” 

Mr. Olsen glares at him, before rolling his eyes. “The anonymous tip retracted her statement. You’re already in custody, though, so I have to take you in. USCIS will handle it. They’re...along for the ride, I guess.” 

“All of them?” Seokjin asks. Mr. Olsen nods, and it’s like suddenly Seokjin’s life isn’t so bleak anymore. 

It takes them a few minutes to pull the plane into a gate and reopen the exits. Seokjin practically bounces in his seat as he waits; it feels like hours have passed since they stopped, but according to a few disgruntled passengers sitting behind him, it’s only been about “thirty goddamn minutes”. 

The first person to step past the front curtain is who Seokjin assumes is probably the Air Marshall. He takes one of the business class seats only one row in front of them, and doesn’t acknowledge anyone as he sits down and fastens his seatbelt. 

The next person that walks through is Namjoon, and Seokjin doesn’t even pay attention to the rest of them after that because he’s so fucking relieved to see the younger boy he could probably cry. Namjoon stops at their row, glares down at Mr. Olsen, and then-

“Move.” 

Mr. Olsen is sitting in the middle seat, right next to Seokjin. He looks affronted, staring up at Namjoon like he’s got three heads attached to his shoulders. Namjoon doesn’t move though, even chances crossing his arms, and Seokjin is proud. And a little turned on. 

A little. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Move over.” 

“No?” 

“I swear to god I will-” 

“Fine!” Mr. Olsen all but screeches. He gets up and moves to the aisle seat, letting Namjoon pass before he sits back down. “Fine, jesus, sit down.” 

Namjoon sits down and before Seokjin even has the chance to say anything, he turns to him, grabs his face, and kisses him. 

“I was so fucking worried,” Namjoon breathes against his lips. Seokjin hasn’t moved, let alone breathed, and he doesn’t know how else to respond besides nodding. “You didn’t come back, and Jungkook said a cop was looking for you, and then Morgan-” 

Right as he says this, Morgan walks past with her head down. He wants to yell all kinds of things at her, thinks it would be very easy for all of them to gang up on her right now, but he’s not going to do that. Karma will probably come back to bite her in the ass soon, anyway. At least he hopes. 

“The cop said if I went with him, you wouldn’t get in trouble,” Seokjin decides to say. He doesn’t care if Mr. Olsen is sitting right next to them. Namjoon deserves to know what happened, because he knows that if the roles were reversed he would’ve freaked out too. “I- I didn’t know what to do. I really couldn’t...say anything, not after what Morgan told him.” 

“She told me what happened,” Namjoon says. He glances at Mr. Olsen, who Seokjin can tell is listening to their conversation even though he’s pretending he’s not, and then turns back around. “After I told her it was just an inside joke, she admitted her mistake. It’s- it’ll be okay.” 

Seokjin gets the idea that he’s supposed to play along, so he does. He snorts, says- “if only she had just minded her business, we wouldn’t be wasting Mr. Olsen’s time right now.” 

Mr. Olsen flinches at this. Seokjin grins. 

Namjoon’s hand are still on him, both on his arms, holding Seokjin like he’s afraid he’ll disappear again if he lets go. He moves them back up to his face, squishes both of his cheeks together, and he looks so concerned it’s almost adorable. 

“Please never try to save the day ever again,” he says. He looks serious, and Seokjin is going through a lot of emotions right now, he wants to make a joke, but decides against it because Namjoon seems really upset about this. “I was...I was worried sick. I thought- I don’t know, I thought I had lost you. So just...we’ll figure it out together, yeah? But please don’t run off like that anymore.” 

“Okay,” Seokjin mumbles through squished cheeks, his eyes stinging just a little. Possibly from lack of sleep, but more so because of Namjoon, probably,. “I won’t.” 

“Thank you,” Namjoon sighs. He releases Seokjin’s face. “You look terrible, hyung.” 

“I didn’t sleep,” Seokjin tells him, and as if on cue, he yawns. “Office chairs are...not all that comfortable, I do have to say.” 

Namjoon smiles, and his dimples cause an embarrassing reactionary startle out of Seokjin. Again, possibly due to lack of sleep. 

“Sleep now, then,” Namjoon pats his shoulder. “We’ve got a long flight.” 

Seokjin doesn’t protest. He adjusts himself in his seat, shuffling so that he’s leaning more towards Namjoon, and then waits until Namjoon is buckled and facing forward before he leans his head against his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you, hyung,” Namjoon mumbles, and then he kisses Seokjin’s forehead and Seokjin feels a little bit like goo, and a lot of bit like a man in love. “We’ll get through this. Together.” 

Twelve hours and one flight transfer later, in which he just has to sit there, and Seokjin is standing back in JFK with his handcuffs still on and his small entourage of supporters (minus one in the form of a pissed-off-looking Morgan) huddled around him. Mr. Olsen looks totally out of his element as he makes arrangements for transportation a few feet away, and Seokjin doesn’t know what to make of Jungkook and Taehyung buying coffee at Starbucks while he’s currently in federal custody but he thinks it’s just very fitting.

“I have cars waiting outside for us now,” Mr. Olsen declares, walking back towards them and pocketing his phone as he goes. 

Seokjin nods, but gestures with his bound hands towards the Starbucks station down the terminal. “We have to wait for them.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Olsen groans. “Do they not realize you’re about to go to prison?” 

“I am not,” Seokjin states, matter-of-fact. “You might be, however, for unlawful arrest.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense-” 

“Hey,” Namjoon says, and maybe Seokjin should care more about how they’re cutting off the man with the keys to his handcuffs, but he doesn’t stop Namjoon. “What’s the plan? I have a few other people flying in a little later and I need to know if I need to make accomodations for them or not.” 

“Wait, who else?” Seokjin turns on him, asking. “Everyone is already here.” 

“My parents, and Hoseok’s mother and Taehyung’s grandmother,” Namjoon tells him. “They said they wanted to help any way they could.” 

“Oh.” Seokjin might be getting a little choked up. “Oh, that’s so sweet. I thought they would hate me after this.” 

“Of course not,” Namjoon tells him, eyebrows furrowed. “I think they have questions, but they love you and don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

“I think I might cry,” Seokjin mumbles. He’s slept, but he’s not well-rested, and that’s still kind of getting to him. 

“Tell them to book with the Hyatt on 42nd Street,” Mr. Olsen tells them. “You’ll meet with the agency first thing tomorrow morning. They’ve booked rooms for...all of you tonight.”

“Wait,” Seokjin shoots the man a weary look, “-even me?” 

“Yes,” Mr. Olsen sighs. “You will be guarded, but they’re not booking you I guess.” 

But Seokjin is not concerned with that. 

“So why,” he says, “-do I still have these handcuffs on?!” 

Mr. Olsen stares at him. Seokjin doesn’t know the procedure for things like this, is sure a lot of people don’t because it’s kind of a unique situation, but he does know that his wrists are sore and if they’re putting him in a hotel room for the night, then there’s absolutely no reason he should still be in handcuffs. 

“There are a lot of you,” Mr. Olsen tells him. He shrugs like it’s as simple as that. “One less person to fight.” 

Seokjin thinks this man is very weird. He wonders how he even got his job. 

Jungkook and Taehyung eventually make their way back to them, trays of coffee in hand. They pass them out and Mr. Olsen stares in horror, until he eventually shoos them forward, explaining that they need to go to the cars now.  

It’s late, the sun setting low as they walk out of the airport. There are no guards this time, but the vans that greet them look straight out of an action film. Men in black suits wait beside them, opening the doors and shuffling everyone inside one by one. There are two vans, and Seokjin ends up in the first with Namjoon, Hoseok, and Mr. Olsen. Morgan tries to hop in as well, but Heeyeon shoulders her out of the way and takes the last available seat.

As they begin to drive away from the busy airport, Seokjin realizes just how awful he actually feels about everything. None of them should be here having to save his ass, especially not like this. That was the plan, technically, but it feels wrong now that it’s happening. He doesn’t know if Taehyung and Jimin are supposed to be on their way to their honeymoon right now, but they shouldn’t be spending the day after their wedding trying to help their friend’s fake-fiance avoid deportation. No one should be spending the day after a wedding doing this.

Seokjin wants to cry, really, but he’s conflicted on whether it should be because he’s grateful for them, or because he’s probably ruined their lives. 

“There are four rooms,” Mr. Olsen clears his throat. Seokjin looks up from his hands and finds the man holding a card out to him. “I don’t care who takes what room or where the rest of them go, but you,” he flaps the card at Seokjin, “-will stay in room 487 until the morning, understood?” 

Seokjin nods. He takes the keycard from Mr. Olsen, but doesn’t draw his hands back just yet. “Can you uncuff me now?” 

Mr. Olsen studies him for a minute. Finally, he sighs, and pulls a key out of his back pocket. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Seokjin turns up his nose. He doesn’t answer him. 

They get to the hotel not long after, and Seokjin must have spoken too soon, because three burley looking guards greet them at the entrance. Mr. Olsen hands the rest of the keycards to one of them and then disappears behind another car without saying another word. Seokjin doesn’t know if that’s the last time they’ll be seeing him, but he wouldn’t be mad if that was the case. 

The guards huddle them inside and to the elevators, where one of them pushes the button for the fourth floor once they’re all squished on. It’s a tight fit, and Seokjin thinks if the elevator breaks down, he’d rather just die. 

At the fourth floor they all get off; one the guards hands a keycard to Yoongi, and another to Heeyeon and Jimin, and it wasn’t intentional but it seems to work out just fine. The same guard tells them that they can’t leave, contrary to Mr. Olsen’s words, and then he and the two others post themselves strategically around the hallway and by the elevators. 

“Can we order a pizza at least?” Hoseok calls. Seokjin smiles, despite the solemn situation. One of the guards seems to consider this, but then nods, and Hoseok shoots him a thumbs up. 

Seokjin assumes they’re all just going to go back to their rooms, maybe rest up a bit before regrouping later, but then Jimin stops in front of his room and says-

“Team meeting in hyung’s room!” He scowls at Morgan. “Morgan isn’t invited.” 

“But I-” 

Namjoon whips around on the girl and glares. “We already talked, remember? There’s nothing more you need to say.” 

And this entire day has been horribly confusing and just a lot to process, but Seokjin thinks that right there is what does him in. He’s so hot, he thinks, and then, what the fuck, this is not the time.  

Morgan doesn’t argue with him. She takes the keycard from Heeyeon, who offers it to her readily. Once she’s gone, has slammed the door in their faces after glaring at everyone like they had all personally killed her mother, Jimin turns back to Seokjin’s room and gestures towards the door. 

“Well,” he says, “-let us in.” 

It’s a standard room, with two queen sized beds. Namjoon will share with him, and he thinks probably Heeyeon too, because he doesn’t know if Morgan will let her in or not. Not that he wants his friend to room with her anyway. 

“I’ll order the pizzas,” Namjoon tells them once they’re in the room and the door has been shut and locked behind them. 

“Hyung, we can help pay-” Taehyung begins to say, but Namjoon cuts him off with a wave of his hand. 

“No, the least I can do is feed you guys,” he says. He drags his phone out of his back pocket and begins scrolling. “Any preferences?” 

No one else tries to chime in, but Jungkook does ask for extra pepperoni. 

They all make themselves comfortable around the room, finding places to sit either on a bed or on top of someone else. Seokjin sits quietly in the corner, at the small table backed into the wall lined with two chairs. After he’s done ordering Namjoon comes to join him, and it’s quiet for a few moments, everyone either looking around awkwardly or scrolling aimlessly through their phones. 

Seokjin studies them all carefully. He tries not to think about how all of them likely would prefer to be literally anywhere else.

He glances at Namjoon, and finds the other already staring at him. His eyes are kind, filled with understanding and that hopeful glint Seokjin has kind of fallen in love with, but something tells him that Namjoon is tired of this too. 

Well, he thinks. I guess it’s my time to shine.  

“Um. The room might be bugged.” Brilliant. Way to kick it off, Seokjin. 

“Oh, no worries. I’ve got this,” Taehyung says immediately, standing from where he’s sprawled across Jimin. He flits around the room, going from lamps to tables to doors. “I watch a lot of detective shows,” he explains, “-I know where they hide this stuff.” 

Five or so minutes later, he sits back down in Jimin’s lap and smiles. “No bugs,” he tells them. “I checked everything.” 

“Why would you even be worried about that anyway?” Hoseok asks. He’s got a serious look on his face, far from what Seokjin is used to seeing on him. He glances at the others, at Heeyeon and Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung, and finds that they all have matching expressions, all except for Yoongi. 

He sighs. “Well-” 

Namjoon cuts him off. 

“I’ve been lying to you guys,” he says, and he doesn’t even glance once at Seokjin before he continues. “I’m sorry, but please just let me explain before you start asking questions.” 

“I knew it,” Seokjin hears Jungkook whisper, his bunny-eyes wide and full of understanding. The hysterical part of him has to bite back a tiny grin. 

“I’ve always liked Seokjin-hyung a little more than I probably should,” Namjoon says. Seokjin looks at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion because that isn’t what he thought he’d start with. “Like a really annoying crush, you know? I never told any of you because I didn’t know what those feelings meant, and I never thought any of you would ever meet him anyway. 

“Hyung’s not from here, he’s only here on a work Visa, and something went wrong and they were going to deport him and I...couldn’t let that happen. I liked him, sure, but...hyung can’t go back to South Korea. He’s not...I wasn’t going to let that happen. And the only thing I could think of to fix it was marriage.” 

Namjoon reaches across the table, hesitantly, and brushes his fingers across Seokjin’s knuckles. It’s like he’s afraid, scared that if he touches too long something will happen. When Seokjin looks up, there’s worry in the other’s eyes; he gulps down the bubble in his throat and then flips his hand over, entangling their fingers together. 

“Something bad happened before I came to New York,” Seokjin mumbles. He won’t meet any of their eyes, keeps his gaze trained on a dark spot in the wood of the table. But Namjoon has already decided that this is the narrative he wants his friends to know, and Seokjin isn’t going to go against him. It’s close enough to the truth anyway. “I was outed, and was forced to leave my job. My family kicked me out. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I came to New York, tried to start over.” 

“Oh, hyung,” he hears Jimin says. Seokjin chances his luck, looks up and is surprised to find that they all look vaguely sympathetic, instead of like they want to kill him. It’s reassuring, to say the least. 

“That’s...really all there is to it. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, and I know it seems ridiculous but-” 

“For the record,” Seokjin jumps in, “-I do like him.” He glances first at Namjoon, then to everyone else. “I know it seems disingenuous, and I understand if you hate me now, but...he means a lot to me.” 

“Hyung,” Jimin starts. He pushes Taehyung off of him and sits up. “This is probably the most Namjoon thing he’s ever done. And because he’s my best friend, and I’ve just decided to accept the things he’s done, I will help you.” 

“Me too!” Taehyung is quick to chime in. “Hyung really likes you, it’s so obvious, and I’m a professional at love,” he glances at Jimin, who blushes under his gaze, “-so I can see that you like him too, genuinely. So we’ll help, whatever you need.” 

Seokjin doesn’t really know what to say to them. When he looks at Namjoon, the younger is grinning at his friends, dimples deep and eyes shining. It makes his heart feel full.

“So let me get this straight,” Jungkook says. He’s the only one that really looks upset, and perhaps that’s worse because he’s really the one that matters the most. “You guys aren’t even really in love?” 

“Well, I, uh,” Namjoon splutters. His face is beat red, his free hand flailing about as he tries to come up with something to say. 

Seokjin takes pity on him and answers instead. “I think love is a weird thing, in that it’s different for everyone and it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t entirely understand your experience.” 

Maybe he’s thinking too hard about it, trying to make sense of something that really should be just a simple yes or no answer, but he wants to give it all he’s got. Namjoon, and especially his friends, deserve that. 

“I think I love Namjoon, but not in the same way that you love Yoongi.” Seokjin watches as Jungkook’s face turns a deep scarlet color. “You guys have memories, feelings that date back months and experiences together that make the answer to that question easy for you. Namjoon and I don’t have that.” He turns and looks at Namjoon, doesn’t take his eyes off of him while he speaks next. “But I know that he’s a good person, and not just because he’s done something nice for me. I know that he makes me happy and I might not love him in the ways that you guys want me to, not yet at least, but I love him in that the thought of losing him, even if that just means being in different countries indefinitely, scares the hell out of me and I think that’s enough.” 

“Oh, geez,” Namjoon chokes out. He squeezes Seokjin’s hand and then looks down at the table, and blinks his eyes rapidly like he’s trying not to cry. 

“I only have a couple of months filled with previously undiscovered pining and one really weird weekend filled with lots of emotional talks and realizing that I like lots of physical traits of his like his dimples and his ass-”

“Please stop,” Jungkook pleads. 

“-but that is enough for me to know that I want to keep him around. For a long time. So I hope that’s okay.” 

“You could’ve just said no,” Jungkook pouts.Yoongi places his hand on his thigh and pats at it sympathetically. 

“Um,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Same. Yes. Uh, same, yeah, what he said.” 

Seokjin can’t help but snort. Jimin giggles at him, and shakes his head fondly as Namjoon tries to come up with something to say back. 

“So to recap,” Hoseok saves Namjoon from embarrassing himself any further, “-Joon-ah, you had a crush on your coworker-slash-boss, then he was about to get deported so you thought you’d save him by marrying him, hyung also had a crush on you but didn’t realize it until he got to Hawaii, now you guys actually like-slash-maybe-love each other but the government found out you were lying so hyung might actually go to jail.” 

“I guess, yeah,” Namjoon nods. 

“So taking all of the emotional stuff out of it, you guys are fucked.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe. But maybe not. I talked to Morgan last night, after she told me what happened. She said she heard me drunkenly joke around with hyung in the bathroom, asked him to marry me to keep him in the country,” -Jimin groans- “but I told her it was just that, a joke, an inside one we’ve been throwing around to lighten the kind of serious situation. Which isn’t entirely a lie. She felt bad and I convinced her to delete the recording she had.” 

“Do the cops not have a copy?” Hoseok asks. Namjoon shakes his head. 

“They said they were going to do all that, the questioning and stuff, in the morning. Just send it to the office in New York then, since no one was there to receive it anyway.” Namjoon looks relieved at that. “I get the feeling that they weren’t really taking it seriously.” 

“Well thank god for that,” Hoseok snorts. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“Well, you see,” Namjoon sighs, “-the USCIS lady only cleared Seokjin to fly because we promised we’d bring some of you guys back to be interviewed. You know, to legitimize us.” 

“And what about Morgan?” 

“I guess I’ll have to talk to her again. I think she feels bad, since I told her it was just one big misunderstanding. But she’s still pretty angry just in general, so I’ll have to convince her to lie as well.” 

“Oh, no.” Heeyeon sits up, everyone turning to look at her at once. She hasn’t said a word this entire time, but her face is set in a hard, unreadable expression. “I’ve got that one.” 

“What?” Seokjin asks. He furrows his eyebrows at her. “What, no, you don’t-” 

“I told you I would be there for you, Seokjinnie. Let me talk to her, woman to woman. It might be better than bombarding her again.” 

Seokjin looks at Namjoon. He trusts Heeyeon no matter their past differences, and he knows that she works miracles, would probably be able to convince Morgan to play along. And maybe it would be better than Namjoon arguing with her again. So he shrugs, and Namjoon sighs, and he turns back to Heeyeon and nods. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“Then I better get started.” She stands up from her spot on the bed. “Let me know if anything else happens, yeah?” 

“Will you be coming back here afterwards?” Seokjin asks. 

Heeyeon smirks and shakes her head. “Oh, no. I’d rather give you two your privacy for the night.”

“You don’t have to room with her if you don’t want to,” Namjoon offers. Hand still in Seokjin’s, he smiles up at Heeyeon politely. “We probably won’t use the other bed.” 

“And that’s exactly why I’ll be staying next door!” Heeyeon exclaims. “I’ll see you all in the morning. Get some sleep, we’ve got work to do!” 

“Oh, gross,” Jungkook mutters, as Heeyeon retreats to the door. Seokjin can feel his face flush as Namjoon whips around to stare at his baby brother. 

“Not like that!” he yells, waving his hands about, his grip finally falling from Seokjin’s. 

“I was going to bunk with you guys, but not now!” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just go sleep with Yoongi and Jungkook.”

“Oh, you think they’ll be any better? A hotel room to themselves for the first time?” Jimin points out. 

“Oh, great, I’ll just sleep in the hall then,” Hoseok tells them all. Meanwhile, Namjoon is still yelling at Jungkook, who is just making deeply disturbed faces at his older brother. 

Seokjin finds Yoongi through it all. The other looks oddly please, rubbing his hand up and down Jungkook’s thigh. Seokjin smirks at him, and Yoongi smirks back, and then someone knocks on the door and everyone goes dead silent. 

A minute passes, maybe two, and then- “Uh, delivery for a Namjoon Kim?” 

“Oh, oh, thank god. I thought they were really coming to get you, hyung,” Taehyung says, holding a hand to his chest and looking relieved. Seokjin makes a face. 

“Thanks for the faith,” he mumbles. He watches as Namjoon stands up and makes his way to retrieve the pizza. 

“You’ve not given me a lot to work with,” Taehyung muses. He smiles at Seokjin, and Seokjin smiles back, and he thinks it’ll be okay. 

Namjoon walks back over with five pizza boxes and two liters of soda and suddenly everyone is laughing and shouting again and he thinks really, it’ll all be okay.  

Luckily, Jimin had the sense to pack a large bag of clothing before he and the others first left for the airport after the wedding, so once everyone has been kicked out of Seokjin and Namjoon’s room, with the mutual agreement to work together in the morning to save Seokjin from deportation, Seokjin takes a shower and changes into someone’s fresh shirt and sweatpants and falls into one of the beds. He feels like he can finally breathe again, and lets his mind wander while Namjoon takes his own shower. 

They had finally come to the conclusion that no matter what, they weren’t getting out of the USCIS interview. Seokjin didn’t know what to expect, none of them knew what to expect, but either way they were all going to play along. Halfway through dinner he got a text from Heeyeon that was solely a thumbs up emoji, and he took that as she had gotten Morgan to cooperate, so he sent her a heart back and though it was only a small one, he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. 

Namjoon emerges from the bathroom again after about twenty minutes. Seokjin rolls over when he hears the bathroom door open, and nearly chokes when he finds Namjoon clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He tries, so very hard, not to look, but ultimately can’t stop it when his eyes rake down the younger’s body. 

Namjoon smirks. Seokjin flushes. 

“Sorry. Sorry,” Seokjin gulps. “I know it’s kind of inappropriate given the circumstances-” 

“No it’s not,” Namjoon snorts. He walks over to where Seokjin is laying down and sits next to him. “Honestly, I’d be offended if you didn’t look.” 

“Well.” Seokjin doesn’t have an answer for that. 

“What you said tonight,” Namjoon continues, leaning in towards Seokjin just a little, “-that was nice. You know, after Jungkookie asked if we were actually in love.” 

“It’s the truth,” Seokjin shrugs. He can’t quite handle the way Namjoon is looking down at him. “I meant every word.”

“I want to keep you around, too,” Namjoon tells him. “And I also like your ass. For the record.” 

Seokjin groans. 

Namjoon laughs. “I was going to head down to talk to my parents,” he says, standing up and heading back towards the bathroom. Everyone else had gotten in about an hour earlier, had checked into their rooms and were just waiting for whatever’s next. His voice carries. “I think I should just go, though. I’m not going to tell them what I told the guys. I think I’m just going to tell them what I told Morgan. I don’t think I can tell them the truth.” 

“Okay,” Seokjin shouts back. He’s completely fine with that. He doesn’t particularly want to sit in front of Namjoon’s parents, and Taehyung’s grandmother, and Hoseok’s mom and explain everything to them anyway. 

“It shouldn’t take me long,” Namjoon tells him, walking back out in a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, much like how Seokjin is dressed. “But you should try and get some sleep, hyung.” 

Seokjin just nods. He slept a lot of the plane, but he’s still exhausted, both physically and mentally. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Namjoon says. He slips his shoes on, but then walks back over and kneels down in front of Seokjin. Seokjin turns on his side and faces him, hands pillowed beneath his head. 

“Promise?” 

Namjoon makes a face. “Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t leave you.” 

Seokjin feels silly for ever thinking he would. 

“Okay,” he mumbles. “I’ll be here.” 

Namjoon bites his lip, seems to consider something for a moment before he leans forward and pecks Seokjin on the lips. He pulls back, his face bright red as he smiles shyly. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he whispers. Seokjin just nods, almost in a daze. 

Namjoon leaves him them, standing up and heading to the door without saying anything else. Seokjin doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even watch him walk away, just stays on his side with a dumb little smile plastered to his face. 

The minute the door clicks behind him, he turns onto his stomach, grabs one of the throw pillows, and screams into it. 

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” Ms. Hilford begins. “Your ex-fiance heard you joking around in a women’s bathroom, thought you were being serious, called the police on you, and that’s why you’re all sitting in my office right now.” 

Seokjin glances at Namjoon. They hadn’t had a lot of time to talk this morning; they were woken up by someone banging on their hotel room doors, and Seokjin just barely had enough time to pull on his clothes and stuff a complimentary breakfast muffin into his mouth before they were drug back out to the creepy-looking vans from the day before. 

Now they’re sitting in the USCIS building, all of their family and friends piled in chairs behind them. Namjoon has nothing to offer. Seokjin sighs and turns back to Ms. Hilford. 

“Jesus christ,” she mumbles, rubbing her temples. Seokjin thinks that maybe he should feel bad, considering the absurdity of it all, but he finds that he really, really doesn’t. 

“Really?” Ms. Hilford asks, this time directing the question at Morgan who, unsurprisingly, has not said a single word since they left the hotel. Seokjin still doesn’t know what Heeyeon said to her, but it had to have been convincing enough because Morgan is here and, well, cooperating. 

“Yes,” Morgan eventually says, sighing like she’s tired. She doesn’t look up from where her hands rest in her lap. “I- I still care for Namjoon a lot, obviously, and when I heard that, I thought Seokjin was just using him and got angry.” 

Seokjin doesn’t know how much truth there is to that, but judging by the way Morgan’s face colors, he thinks there has to be at least a little. 

“So you called the cops?” 

“I wanted Seokjin gone, to protect Namjoon.” 

“And what happened to this recording you supposedly have?” 

“I...never had one. I was going to fake one, or something, I don’t know. I just said that because I thought it’d make him go away faster.” 

Seokjin glances at Heeyeon, gives her a look like damn, bitch, what did you say? Because Morgan both sounds and looks pretty convincing right now. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for, that’s for sure. 

“Right,” Ms. Hilford nods, but her tone suggests she doesn’t believe a single word Morgan has said. “You know how this looks, yes?”  

“Yes,” Seokjin sighs, because he didn’t think it would be that easy. Morgan’s blatant lie helps a lot, but Ms. Hilford has probably dealt with this before. There’s no way she’d let them go with just that. 

“Would you like to explain to me why you were even joking about that in the first place?” 

“Humor is how I deal with things,” Seokjin fires back. He’s prepared himself for this. Namjoon took forever talking to his parents and Seokjin couldn’t fall asleep while he waited for him to get back, and his mind went to playing out every scenario he could think of. “Namjoon and I have been teasing each other about this because it’s honestly kind of funny.” 

“You getting deported is funny?” Ms. Hilford looks completely bewildered by this. Seokjin can’t say he blames her. 

“In the hysterical sense,” he shrugs. He’s trying to come off as nonchalant, like he’s not about to shit himself right now. 

Ms. Hilford sighs again. “Do you understand how much trouble you’ve caused because of your joke?”  

Seokjin scowls and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms in a petulant way. It really is very simple. This lady could just grant him exemption from whatever stupid rule he’s broken this time, she has the power to do so. Instead she’s being difficult-  

“If I may, Ms. Hartford,” Jimin cuts in, uncrossing his legs as he sits up and addresses the woman. 

“Ms. Hilford,” she corrects, but Jimin ignores her, waving her off before he continues. 

“I met Seokjin for the first time this weekend,” he begins, and Seokjin’s eyes widen because no, what, why did you say that?! “I mean, of course I knew of him, he’s marrying my best friend, but I finally got to meet him this weekend and he’s awesome.” 

Oh. Oh. Suddenly, Seokjin’s chest feels a little tight. 

“He’s a really great guy, I’m glad Namjoon found him. And they’re so sweet with each other. It was Tae and I’s wedding, but I think they really stole the show. They’re very much in love and I think it’s silly that you’re making them prove this to you even though you know nothing about them as people.” 

“Um,” Seokjin coughs. He doesn’t particularly want Ms. Hilford to take offense to that. What Jimin is saying is very kind but could also be used against them. 

Luckily, Ms. Hilford only looks bored. 

“I know both of them personally,” Yoongi adds from where he’s sitting behind them, Jungkook perched on the arm of his chair. “They really are both big goofs, the type of people to joke about uncomfortable situations to make them more bearable. It’s just unfortunate that a jealous person had to use it against them.”

“I’ve never seen my brother this happy,” Jungkook says. “There’s no way he could fake it like that, he’s a shit actor.” 

“My son is many things, but he is not a liar.” Namjoon’s mother scooches her chair forward, until it’s right up against Namjoon’s, and places her hand on his thigh. She stares Ms. Hildford down for a few moments, and then says- “he ran away from the alter in his previous relationship because he couldn’t lie to his fiance anymore. He’s not lying to you. He loves this man, and this man loves him, and you would be doing everyone a great disservice by sending Seokjin away.” 

“Dear,” Taehyung’s grandmother says, her voice soft from where she sits towards the back of the room. “I’m probably dying soon. If you send him away, I might have a heart attack on your office floor, and that’s paperwork I’m sure you don’t want to fill out.” 

Seokjin doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does, quickly covering his mouth as Taehyung whines a loud but fond “Grandma!” from beside him. Even Ms. Hilford manages a small smile, shaking her head like she can’t quite believe any of this is happening. 

“Listen,” she sighs, folding her hands together and resting them against her desk. “I hear you guys, I really do. But...Seokjin already broke a rule, before any of this even happened. I can’t just sweep this under the rug, even if I wanted to believe you.” 

“You can though-” Taehyung argues, but Jimin stops him from standing up and arguing, hand on his shoulder. 

Ms. Hilford sighs again, and then glances around the room before speaking next. “May I speak with Seokjin alone, please?” 

“No,” Namjoon tries to cut in, but Seokjin hushes him, squeezing his thigh as a silent way of telling him it’s okay.  

No one else tries to object, so quietly, one by one, they all stand up and make their way out into the hallway. The last one to leave is Namjoon, who gives Seokjin a worried, lingering look, but Seokjin just smiles at him until his mother finally pulls him out of the room. 

The door closes behind them, and Seokjin turns back around. It only takes a few seconds before Ms. Hilford gets right to it. 

“You and I both know you’re not telling the whole truth,” she starts. Seokjin supposes this is the wall, and he’s hit it, and there’s no way to get around it now. He can’t argue with her anymore. She’s seen right through them, and honestly, they’re probably lucky she hasn’t called security on them yet.

He lets out a deep breath. It’s almost as if he can feel his heart breaking. 

“You may very well have feelings for each other, and I truly don’t know what went on in Hawaii, but it’s more than just that, isn’t it?” she adds, looking far more sympathetic than she had been two minutes ago. 

Seokjin’s silence is more than enough of an answer. 

“I would love nothing more than to pretend none of this ever happened and let us get on with our lives, but I can’t do that. You know that.” Seokjin nods, even though his heart sinks even further in disappointment, in heartbreak, in all of the feelings he can’t even make sense of right now. “You broke the law by leaving the country on a Visa. Then, whether real or not, you forced an engagement in an attempt to stay in the country. I can’t just ignore that.” 

You could, Seokjin thinks, but he knows she won’t. They never do. 

“I have every right to throw Namjoon in prison and send you back to South Korea with a sentence looming over your head. And I should considering the massive headache you’ve caused me.

“But I won’t do that,” Seokjin nearly cries, “-because your friend’s grandmother was right about one thing, and that’s that I hate paperwork. So instead, I’ll revoke your Visa and if you’re able to get by on a year of good behavior back in Korea, you can reapply and try for citizenship.” 

“And Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, because that’s all he really cares about now. If he dragged Namjoon down with him, god, he’d never forgive himself. 

“I’ll let him out of this unscathed,” Ms. Hilford tells him, “-but you have to be on your best behavior. Nothing will go on his record but if you mess this up, I’m not afraid to bring the case back up.” 

“Right, no, I’ll be good, I promise,” Seokjin hurries to say. It’s not what he wanted at all, in fact a year back in Korea sounds like absolute hell, but Namjoon is going to be fine and that’s all that really matters. He fucked up big time but at least the only one suffering is himself. 

“A year, Seokjin Kim. You get so much as a parking ticket and I’ll have to deny your Visa for good.” 

Seokjin nods. He understands. He won’t mess this up, not again. 

“I’ll get in touch with your immigration lawyer. He’ll forward you everything important you need to know. In the meantime, pack your things and be ready to leave by Wednesday morning. I’ll send you flight information shortly, and someone will be by to accompany you back to Korea.” 

Seokjin nods again. He really has no other option but to agree. It’s either this, or nothing, and nothing most likely means jail time for both he and Namjoon, and permanent residence in Korea. He’ll take this over the latter any day. It’s going to suck, but it’s all he’s got going for him right now. 

Ms. Hilford doesn’t have much else to say to him, so he thanks her, because he feels like he has to, and then leaves her office. He thinks about making a run for it, but only briefly, especially once he sees the rather large police officer standing near the door and realizes he’d never be able to outrun that. Plus, it’d probably hurt Namjoon. 

Namjoon.  

There’s no one waiting for him in the front room once he gets there, so he makes his way out of the building via the exit doors. There are a lot of people out on the streets, but his people stick out like a sore thumb amongst the chaos. Jungkook is the first to spot him, and when he does, all billion of them come running towards him with worried looks on their faces. 

His face must say it all, because before he can even get a word out Taehyung starts crying. 

“Hyung, really?” he asks, voice watery, and Seokjin doesn’t have the heart to console him. He thinks he might be on the verge of a breakdown himself. Instead, he fakes nonchalance and shrugs, laughing wetly.

“She didn’t believe a word we said, guys,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound right. He can’t even look at Namjoon. “It’s not totally bad. I just have to go back to Korea for a year, and then I can reapply for a Visa.” 

“Not totally bad,” Jimin mocks him, snorting. He looks just as upset as Taehyung does, hand on his husband’s shoulder as he frowns. “No, it’s pretty bad hyung.” 

“How could she do that to you?” Namjoon’s mother questions, looking far more confused than anyone else. Seokjin remembers that Namjoon’s parents, Hoseok’s mother and Taehyung’s grandmother don’t actually know the whole truth, and hurries to come up with something to placate them. 

“She didn’t believe me, and it would take way more time and effort and money to try to convince her we were telling the truth,” he explains. He doesn’t know what else to tell her, but he still won’t look to Namjoon for help. 

“Well that’s not fair,” she says, her voice quiet, and Seokjin thinks if she cries he won’t be able to handle it. She pulls him into a hug and he holds her for a minute, before stepping back and taking a deep breath. 

“I’m really sorry I pulled you all into this,” he says, and manages to look at everything but anyone’s eye. “Especially on a weekend that was supposed to be filled with happiness. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but I’m thankful all of you agreed to help me anyways.” 

“You’re family now, Seokjin,” Namjoon’s mom tells him. He can already feel the acid burning in his throat. “Of course we want to help you. It’s just a shame things didn’t work out how we wanted.” 

“I think I should still go in there and fake a seizure on her floor,” Taehyung’s grandmother adds, looking suspiciously close to actually going and doing it. Seokjin manages a weak laugh, but shakes his head. 

“No, it’s alright. I- I got off easy, honestly, and I don’t want to make her any more mad than she already is.” Although funny, he thinks that would be a very, very bad idea. “I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, honey,” Taehyung’s grandmother shuffles forward, stopping right before him. She cups his face and Seokjin kind of feels like sobbing, he doesn’t think his eyes will ever stop stinging. “We know you will be. You’re strong. But we still want better for you.” 

Well, that does him in. He coughs, makes an ugly sound in the back of his throat, and then it’s like the floodgates open and he’s not able to stop it. He’s not sure who hugs him, it can’t be Taehyung’s grandmother because she’s half his height and this person allows him to put his head on their shoulder, but someone does and he cries and cries and cries. 

A minute later he stands back up and he isn’t okay, not really, but he feels better. Everyone’s either looking at him or trying not to look at him, but not being very subtle about it. He clears his throat and wipes at both of his eyes. 

“Sorry. I’m- I’m just sad, is all. You guys are...probably one of the best things to ever happen to me. I’ll miss you.” 

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Taehyung’s grandmother waves her hand at him. “You’ll be back in a year, and you won’t be alone. You’ll have Minseo and I.” 

“And me.” Seokjin lifts his head and meets Heeyone’s eyes, and he smiles, just a little. “You’ll have me, Seokjinnie.” 

“You know what?” Namjoon’s mom cuts in. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. Let’s all go back to the hotel and rest for a while, and we can meet up later for dinner. I know no one slept well.” 

It sounds like a good idea. Seokjin slept, but it wasn’t a good sleep. He was cold, and then he was hot, and his mind wouldn’t shut down. He tries not to think about how it’ll basically be a farewell dinner as he nods, agreeing. 

“Sanghoon will pay,” Namjoon’s mother says, and Sanghoon squawks but doesn’t exactly protest. Seokjin flashes them both a grateful smile. “We can continue this discussion then, but for now I think everyone just needs a nice, long nap.” 

“Will you be going back to the hotel, hyung?” Taehyung asks him. Seokjin turns and he hadn’t really thought about it, didn’t know where he was going to go after the meeting no matter the outcome, but he knows he doesn’t want to go back to the hotel right now. He shrugs. 

“Can we all just go back to hyung’s?” Jungkook asks, nodding towards Namjoon. Seokjin has dutifully ignored him this entire time, but now he glances over and the sight that greets him kind of breaks his heart. 

Namjoon won’t even look at him. He’s staring at the ground, his eyes glazed over and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Seokjin doesn’t know how to read that. He wants to reach out and touch him, maybe pull him into a hug, but he thinks that’s probably the last thing either of them need right now. 

“Oh, uh,” Namjoon looks up, “-yeah, I guess. I mean, that’s fine, sure.” 

“I think I’m just going to go home,” Seokjin blurts out. He’s not going to be dragged into whatever Namjoon is going through right now. “I miss my bed.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Namjoon’s mom smiles. “We’ll have Namjoon text you when and where to meet up tonight. Okay?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Seokjin actually does yawn, and maybe he was more tired than he originally thought. Mostly he just needs to let his mind rest for a while. 

Taehyung’s grandmother ends up giving him another hug, as does Jimin, and then Taehyung, and then Yoongi claps him on the shoulder and offers him a reassuring smile. Namjoon’s dad does the same, and his mother squeeze’s Seokjin’s hand as she passes by. Seokjin watches as they all make their way to the curb and try to hail taxis, enough to fit them all, and he thinks they might be there awhile. 

Namjoon hangs back. He’s looking at Seokjin now, but Seokjin can’t read his expression. It bothers him. 

“I’ll see you later, hyung,” he says, and then he’s off, trailing behind the rest of his friends and family. There’s more to it, Seokjin can tell. Namjoon’s got that face on, the one where it looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how or if he can. 

But Seokjin isn’t going to chase him down and ask him. It hurts, kind of, almost like Namjoon doesn’t even really care. Seokjin isn’t ignorant enough to actually believe that, but the thought is still there. 

He frowns. They’ll talk about it tonight; that’s what he keeps telling himself as he walks away. 

They don’t really talk about it. Seokjin shows up at the place Namjoon had texted him the address to an hour after he had gotten home, a little hole-in-the-wall Italian place Jungkook found on Yelp and said would be an experience, and they don’t even really acknowledge each other until after their waitress takes their drink order. 

Everyone notices, and then pretends they don’t, and it’s awkward. The only things that make it better are Jimin and Jungkook hilariously fighting over an entire bread basket until the waitress brings them both an individual one meant for children, and Hoseok making a joke about how Morgan couldn’t attend because of bowel issues when everyone knows it had nothing to do with that at all. 

Taehyung’s grandmother is the only one with enough balls to actually bring up the elephant in the room, or rather, Seokjin’s situation. She asks, as they’re all finishing off their meals and the playful banter has all but stopped, where Seokjin will stay when he gets back in Korea. He falters for a moment until Heeyeon pipes up and says that of course he’ll stay with her. She lives with her boyfriend and Seokjin would rather die than live with a practically married couple but he doesn’t see himself with many other options at the moment. So he just gives her a grateful smile and wonders if his bank account can afford him a long term stay in a hotel. 

Then he’s asked what he’s going to do once he gets back, and that one trips him up even more. They’ve already established that he can’t continue working in his current position while in another country, and there’s absolutely no way he’s going back to his old branch. 

He tells her that maybe, maybe he doesn’t have to have it figured out right now. His parents kicked him out and have severed all ties between them, but he had managed to save up enough money from both his familial earnings and his job to where he doesn’t have to go back to a job the moment he gets back in Korea. He’ll be okay. He thinks he’ll manage to make it work, whatever it ends up being. Taehyung’s grandmother seems happy with this, tells him that whatever he ends up doing she knows he’ll be great at it. He’s never really had anyone tell him that before. He tries not to be embarrassed by the way his eyes water. 

They have lots of other questions for him. Where his parents are, if he needs help packing his apartment up, when he’s leaving, how can they stay in contact with him. What his overall plan is. 

When, or even if, he’s going to come back. 

He doesn’t have answers for all of it, but he tells them what he can. His parents aren’t in the picture anymore, and he doesn’t want to get into it, but he’s not hurt by it as much anymore. He’ll probably try to quickly sell most of his things, or put them in storage, so no, he doesn’t need help packing, but he tells them all thank you anyway. He leaves Wednesday morning, probably early. He passes around his phone and lets them all enter their numbers, and then gives his email address to Taehyung’s grandmother. Promises he’ll keep in contact with all of them, and consistently. 

He doesn’t know what to say to the last bit. He doesn’t have a plan, and he doesn’t know if he’ll even be allowed to come back. Best behavior. A lot of things can happen in a year. 

Jimin says of course he’ll be back, and then we’ll FaceTime you every single day, hyung, it’ll be like you never even left and Seokjin thinks that sounds nice until he’s hit with a sudden wave of guilt and realizes that means he’ll have to occupy these people’s time for an entire year more.

They’re strangers, still, kind of, and he loves them already but an entire year. A whole entire year and who knows, they may get sick of him after a month. They may realize that he’s not worth it. He can tell them of course I’ll be back right now but six months down the line and they could all hate him and resent him for ever dragging them into this in the first place. 

“The check?” the waitress breaks his thoughts, placing the black booklet down between him and Namjoon’s father, who’s sitting across from him. Seokjin reaches across the table to grab it, because he will pay the bill, but his hand stops mid-air. It’s not Sanghoon’s teasing glare that makes him freeze, but rather Namjoon, who’s been sitting next to him damn near silent for the entire meal, placing his hand on his thigh. 

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asks, his eyes big and wide and pleading. Seokjin gives up on fighting for the bill and nods, standing when Namjoon does. He throws a look over his shoulder, directed at Yoongi, and the other only gives him an encouraging thumbs up before he starts following behind Namjoon. 

Namjoon takes him to the family bathroom. It’s meant for only one party, so he gestures for Seokjin to walk in and then locks the door once he’s followed. Seokjin leans up against the sink and crosses his arms, and very pointedly does not stare as Namjoon begins pacing back and forth on the tile. 

“Namjoon-” he starts, but the younger cuts him off, coming to stand in front of him and leaving barely any space between them at all. 

“I don’t want you to go,” he says, voice breaking, and oh, oh no, this is not good. His eyes are wet and his face is red and Seokjin hates this so much, so, so much. 

“Namjoon,” he says softly, uncrossing his arms so that he can place them on the other’s shoulders instead. “I...have to. There was no way to get out of it.” 

“Well, then, I, I’ll...I’ll come with you.” 

“No,” Seokjin scoffs, but it’s not unkind. “No, you won’t. You’ll stay here, where you have friends and family and a job, a life.”

“All I have here is you and Yoongi-hyung. I can find another job. Hyung’s probably going to quit and move to wherever Jungkook is going next anyways.” 

“If you don’t want to stay here, fine. Then go back home,” Seokjin tells him, “-but I won’t let you drop everything to come with me.” 

Namjoon pouts. Every other time he pouts it’s adorable, but here, he just kind of looks heartbroken, like maybe he’s on the verge of breaking down. 

“I just got you, hyung. I don’t want to give you up just yet.” 

Seokjin lets out a choked laughed, half startled, half devastated. He leans forward until his head rests against Namjoon’s chest, and Namjoon wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

“It was supposed to be happily ever after,” Namjoon mumbles, voice wet and groggy and Seokjin doesn’t even pretend like they both aren’t crying right now. 

“It was,” Seokjin agrees. He wanted nothing more than that. To start over. To be happy. 

“You’ll come back, right?” 

He groans. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen. He doesn’t want to tie Namjoon down into something he may not even want a month from now and-

“Hyung, please tell me you’ll come back.” 

“I don’t know,” he tells him, truthfully. “Right now, I want to. But...a year is a long time, Namjoon-ah, and you probably won’t even want me to-” 

“Bullshit.” Namjoon lets go of him and pulls back, and his eyes are red and puffy but now they look determined. “Bull shit. You don’t get to crash into my life like this, make me realize I have all these deep feelings for you over a three-fucking-day-long period, and then tell me I won’t want you a year from now so it’s not even worth it to try. Fuck you.” 

Seokjin, a little taken aback, rushes to get something out but Namjoon just keeps going. 

“I’ll probably want you five years from now! You’re infuriating, hyung, like you make me so mad but also you’re one of the best people I know and you’re so hot, god, I will sit in this city alone for an entire year and wait for you to get back if that’s what you need and no matter what you say, you’re not going to change my mind about this.”  

“Okay, okay, yeah, I’m coming back.” Seokjin can’t even argue with him now. 

“And I still want to come with you-” 

“No,” Seokjin cuts Namjoon off. “No, I’m putting my foot down at that. I don’t care how many feelings we have for each other, you’re not uprooting your entire life on a two-days notice just for me. I like you a lot Namjoon-ah, but no.” 

“That’s…” Namjoon sighs, “-yeah, okay, that’s fair. But I want to. Just know that.” 

“And I appreciate it,” Seokjin smiles and pulls Namjoon back into his grasp. “We can call. And text. And maybe you can come visit me.” 

“I’ll definitely come visit you.” 

“And it’s not like I’m dying-” 

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of that, not me.” Seokjin scowls, and Namjoon smiles brilliantly down at him. “Although, it does kind of feel like you are,” and then, much quieter, “-I’ll miss you a lot, hyung.” 

“Stop,” Seokjin groans, burying his face back into Namjoon’s chest. “Stop, I can’t keep crying, my face will puff up.” 

“I think your puffy face is cute.”

“Stop.”  

Namjoon laughs and kisses the top of his head, before letting him go once again. 

“We can make this work, hyung. Right?” 

Seokjin sniffles. “Just,” he clears his throat, “-just, uh, can you clarify one more time what you mean by ‘this’?” He knows what this means, he just wants to hear Namjoon say it. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Us, hyung. I want to date you. I want you to be my boyfriend.” 

“Okay,” Seokjin smiles. “Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought.” 

“So?” Namjoon asks him. He looks a little impatient, like he should have his answer by now. He does, Seokjin’s already told him he’d date him, back in the other bathroom, but this time neither of them are drunk and it’s for real, and has no underlying attachments. 

“Yes, Namjoon, I want you to be my boyfriend too.” He grins, then, a flush overtaking his face. “We’ll make it work.” 

“One year,” Namjoon mumbles. 

“One year,” Seokjin nods. It’s kind of terrifying to think about, and Seokjin has never been in a long distance relationship before, but if Namjoon is willing to try then so is he. 

Maybe they won’t make it past a month. Maybe they will. Maybe Seokjin will just decide to stay in South Korea forever, or maybe he’ll move back to New York the minute his Visa is renewed. But for right now he’s happy, and Namjoon is happy, and he isn’t going to let hypotheticals ruin it. They’ve had enough negatives in the past few days to last them a lifetime anyway. 

“Should we head back? They’ll probably come looking for us soon,” Namjoon suggests. He’s got a small, soft smile on his face and Seokjin kind of wants to just sneak away with him for the rest of the night. 

He tells Namjoon this. Namjoon only laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“We can’t do that, you know that.” 

“Why not? I’ll see them all tomorrow anyway. I know Jimin is going to call me first thing in the morning and ask to come help pack up my stuff even though I said I didn’t need help.” 

He expects Namjoon to laugh again, maybe make another joke, but instead he just keeps smiling like a lovesick fool and pulls Seokjin back into his chest. 

“I’m glad you know that. I’m glad you know they’ll be there for you.” 

“Mfph,” Seokjin mutters against his chest, his cheeks squished together. 

“You’re family now, hyung. No matter what. They love you almost as much as I do.” 

“Mfph,” Seokjin tries again, before he pushes away and stands back up. “You saying sweet things like that doesn’t make me want to go back out there for sure.”  

Namjoon grins, his full, bright one complete with the dimples and everything, and reaches down to grab Seokjin’s hand. 

“Come on, let’s not keep them waiting,” he says, and then, smirking- “boyfriend.” 

Seokjin groans. 

-

jk > r u here

jk > hyung r u here

jk > now? 

jk > hyung has started sweating

Seokjin laughs down at his phone. He’s still at baggage claim, but it’s started moving so he doesn’t think it’ll take him much longer. He has three suitcases but they should all be together when they come around. 

i’m at baggage claim. i’ll be out soon <

jk > hurry he’s literally panting

Seokjin snorts and locks his phone, sliding it into his back pocket so he can watch the conveyor belt as it starts spitting out bags. He’s usually unlucky in that his bags are always, always at the end of the line, but maybe the universe is on his side today because not only did his flight get in early, but his bags are also some of the first few to come through the flap. 

It’s kind of hard to maneuver three rolling suitcases through an airport, but he manages, and eventually he’s shuffling towards the exit. He takes the escalator up to the first level, where Namjoon and Jungkook are supposed to be waiting for him, and then drags his things with him over to the glass doors leading to the street. 

He only makes it as far as the waiting area, however, when someone tackles him from the side. 

He doesn’t fall, but he almost does, his only savior being one of his gigantic suitcases. Once he regains his footing he looks down and is met with Hoseok’s face beaming up at him, not at all worried that he’s almost just nearly killed his friend. 

“You’re supposed to be teaching dance in California!”  

“And miss my hyung coming home? No way!” 

Seokjin can’t even be mad at him for skipping out on his trip. He wraps his arms around Hoseok and squeezes. 

“Plus,” Hoseok says, pulling away after a few moments, “-there was no way I was missing this. I need blackmail material.” 

“Miss wh-” Seokjin says, but before he can get it all out someone else knocks into him, this time a lot harder than Hoseok had. An arm flails and hits him in the head before they steady themselves, and Seokjin has no idea what’s going on. 

“Sorry,” the voice says, and then- “I missed you so much oh my god.”  

Ah. Seokjin smiles and pulls Namjoon closer, burying his face into his neck and breathing in the familiar scent. 

It’s only been a month since they last saw each other. Namjoon came to Korea to help Seokjin pack before he had to get back to finish a project, so it’s not like they’ve been apart that long. It feels like a lifetime, though, so Seokjin doesn’t let go, not even when Hoseok starts laughing at them. 

“What about me?” 

Seokjin leans back and grins at Jungkook, who’s standing behind them looking like a petulant toddler. 

“Jungkookie!” He lets go of Namjoon and walks forward, pulling the younger into a hug. “How are you?” 

“Engaged,” Jungkook tells him, deadpan. Seokjin thinks he’s kidding, but when he holds up his left hand he realizes he’s very not.  

“Jungkook!” Namjoon whines. “Hyung wanted to tell him tonight!” 

“Well hyung is not here right now, is he?” Jungkook mutters. Seokjin doesn’t know what’s happening. “He proposed to me while-” 

“Please god,” Namjoon groans, “don’t say it.” 

“No, wait, I want to hear it. How’d he do it? When did he do it? We talked two days ago.” 

“Last night,” Jungkook tells him, “-well, like, this morning I guess. I don’t know. Point is we were fucking and he made me cry with his dick up my ass so I get to tell whoever I want whenever I want.” 

“My god,” Seokjin reels back. “Jesus christ, did anything else happen in the twenty-four hours I didn’t talk to anyone?” 

“Jiminie and Tae are adopting,” Hoseok says. Seokjin’s face pales over. “I’m kidding! Oh my god, look at his face!” 

Seokjin turns to Namjoon. “What,” he whispers, quietly. Namjoon shrugs. 

“I don’t know, hyung.” He steps forward again and pulls Seokjin into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re home.” 

“Me too,” Seokjin mutters. He kisses Namjoon’s neck. “Please take me home home though. I’m sick of airports.” 

“Okay,” Namjoon snorts. He pulls back and grabs one of Seokjin’s suitcases, before shoving the other two at Jungkook and Hoseok. “Home home it is, then.” 

Seokjin remembers some of the drive, but not all of it. He watches out the window as water and sandy beaches and cliffs pass by. It’s comforting, in a way it certainly wasn’t before. Now, though, he just feels at ease, like he belongs. It’s a welcome change. He’s missed this feeling tremendously. 

When they get into town he turns to Namjoon and places his hand over his on the gear shirt, before asking-

“How’d the project go?” 

“Good. They really liked it. Hyung tweaked some things before I submitted it, but it’s essentially what I sent you.” 

“I’m glad they liked it,” Seokjin tells him. The first thing he did when he landed back in South Korea was contact some of the best music production people he knew and set up meetings with them for Namjoon. Fourteen months later and Namjoon has his own successful producing gig going, working for some of the biggest names in music. 

They had no idea Yoongi basically had the Midas touch when it came to music, and actually produced a few things on the side for fun while he was COO. Now that he and Namjoon are working together, full time, they’re practically unstoppable. 

Seokjin laces his fingers together with Namjoon’s and then pulls his hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Proud of you.” 

Namjoon flashes him a cute, dimpled grin, before turning back to the road. Seokjin’s heart flutters. 

Seokjin remembers the drive to Namjoon’s parent’s home from town, so when they turn left at the gas station instead of right, he gets suspicious. He doesn’t say anything though, because Namjoon is bad at directions but he’s not that bad. He figures there’s a reason. 

They drive down a few back roads, where only little homes stand, some of them with children’s play equipment in the yards, others with surf setups. It’s a quiet part of town, a place Seokjin hasn’t been to before. It’s only when they turn down a dirt road and start heading towards the water that he realizes where they’re actually going. 

“Wait-” 

“I wanted to tell you,” Namjoon hurries to say, “-but it was only finalized last week and I knew you were stressed about packing and all that, so I thought I’d just surprise you.” 

“Wait,” Seokjin swallows, his eyes starting to burn. “Namjoon…” 

Namjoon pulls down a paved driveway, and then a house comes into view. Seokjin recognizes it immediately. It looks exactly like the one he saw all those times when Namjoon used to call him during walk-throughs. And yet, it’s so much more.

His throat closes up and his eyes sting and he thinks that if he actually has to talk to anyone he might just start sobbing. 

“Welcome home, babe.” 

Well, screw that. He lets out a choked sob and can’t even get out of the car, not even when Namjoon parks it and turns it off and Jungkook darts out and starts yelling at someone. 

Not even when that someone turns out to be Yoongi, who’s on the front porch with Taehyung and Jimin, and now Hoseok, holding a large banner that says ‘Welcome Home Hyung!’.

It’s too much. He feels like he’s going to faint. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks him, turning in his seat to face Seokjin. Seokjin sucks in a deep breath and nods, barely trusting his voice before he speaks. 

“How… Why…” 

“I signed all the paperwork last week. Technically you still have to sign it too, but they gave me the keys.” Namjoon smiles at him, takes Seokjin’s hand back from his lap. “It’s ours, hyung.” 

“Yeah.” Seokjin looks back out the window. It’s not a big house. It has two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, and a small living and kitchen space. There’s a deck and a wraparound porch and a detached garage. Lots of plants and a few trees. 

The most stunning part about it, though, is that it sits on a small hill that overlooks the ocean. Seokjin is used to the city, he’s never had something like this before, but the moment he saw it on the house hunters site he knew it had to be theirs. 

Namjoon did everything he could to make sure it was. And now Seokjin is here in front of it, and not staring at it behind a phone screen, and it’s almost kind of surreal. 

He opens his door and steps out of the car, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks at all of his friends standing on his porch. Yoongi and Jungkook are yelling at each other, something about I did it right after we finished though, like I asked you again, stop telling people I proposed to you with my dick up your ass, and it’s all kind of perfect. 

Namjoon joins Seokjin, wrapping his arm around his waist and letting Seokjin lean into him. Together, they lean back against the car. Seokjin watches for a few moments as Jungkook and Yoongi bicker, and Taehyung and Hoseok antagonize them, before he turns to Namjoon and smiles. 

“Hey Joon-ah?” 

“Yeah?” Namjoon asks, looking at him. He’s got a small smile on his face, dimples still prevalent, and Seokjin wants to kiss them. He always wants to kiss them. 

“I love you.” 

Namjoon’s face softens. “I love you too.” 

Seokjin doesn’t kiss his dimples, but he does reach up and kiss his cheek, just above one of them. When he settles back on his feet, he leans his head against Namjoon’s shoulder. 

“I’m home.” 

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, and Seokjin doesn’t have to look to know he’s grinning from ear to ear. “You’re home.