Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He smiled.

Namjoon loses focus completely. The letters on the pages in his hands are now dancing and he can’t find it in himself to be entertained by it. Namjoon’s attention is derailed in the most disastrous of ways. 

He smiled, and that was it.

Namjoon can feel the smile on his own lips stretching across his face. On any other occasion, he would look down immediately after catching a stranger’s eye but something about this man’s smile is making him smile back and Namjoon’s cheeks are beginning to ache. He notices a crooked front tooth before the man in front of him is switching to a closed lip smile and tilting his head. He guesses that is his queue to look away, look up, look down at his many paged book. 

But Namjoon is gone. Whatever it was he was trying to chase after in the fictional world in his hands has run away and he can’t grasp it even if he tried. He says a little sorry to Akutagawa Ryunosuke. 

He isn’t about to look up though, not again, not even when he can feel the weight of eyes on him. Namjoon wants to smile again, but he tamps it down and tries to bury half his face in Rashōmon. He doesn’t have enough courage, and frankly also does not have enough confidence to summon up more to make him look in his direction. Because, god, he is attractive and Namjoon has eyes. 

There’s something in the way he looks at Namjoon, too. Namjoon feels shy not because he’s looking at him in a way that feels intrusive or like he is stepping into space that he shouldn’t be, instead the eyes on him feel like soft caresses, like shy fingers gracing over a surface of a still lake. Namjoon wants to create ripples with those burnt colored eyes but he’s too timid to even break the surface. What if he makes waves instead of gentle trickles?

The boarding announcement breaks the spell. Namjoon checks his boarding ticket and as he begins to collect his things, he feels the heft of those charcoal eyes leave him. He glances towards the direction of the chipped-toothed stranger but finds his seat empty. 

Namjoon resigns himself into thinking that he is never going to see this person again. He boards the plane more disappointed than he thought he would be. And yet, that interaction, if he could even call it that, lasted not even more than thirty seconds.

If he closes his eyes long enough, Namjoon is sure to have already forgotten his face. Forgetting those smokes for eyes, those cherries for lips, and those champagnes for hair.

…Who is he kidding?

He’s never going to forget him. He’s going to have to go on with his life not knowing what those eyes would feel like close-up. 

Until Namjoon gets to his seat and those eyes for bullets fire right at him. 

He smiles again. The same one he had flashed at Namjoon by the boarding gates. Except this time, Namjoon can make out the shape of his lips properly. It isn’t cherry, Namjoon realizes, but more of a coral. More pink than red, although they all bleed the same when it stretches out further when Namjoon stops to place his carry-on into the overhead compartment and takes the seat beside him.

“I know you.” The blond says without missing a beat.

Amused, Namjoon smiles at him back. “Do you?”

“We met before.” There’s so much confidence in the way he is saying it that makes Namjoon want to believe that they, in fact, have met before. Technically, they have, but that isn’t enough to know someone, is it?

Book in hand forgotten, Namjoon indulges him. A man whose surname he doesn’t even know. “We have?”

“Mm.” He nods so resolutely that it makes Namjoon laugh. Before he can even think to question him about his facts, the blond is saying, “Summer. By that beach, don’t you remember? You were in that flowy white dress shirt and I was out sketching like always.”

It’s a load of bullshit and they both know it. First of all, Namjoon does not own any ‘flowy white dress shirts.’ And second of all, Namjoon would have  remembered meeting a human being so beautiful. That teasing smile on this person’s lips gives him away, but something in the way his lips are tilted makes Namjoon jump along for the ride. 

“Right. The beach.” Namjoon sighs, as if chiding himself for having forgotten. “How could I not remember? You had those blue jeans rolled up to your ankles and we shared that one bottle of beer you had—for some reason—packed in your bag.”

It makes the stranger smile, the brilliant kind as if being rewarded with a piece of candy. “Ah, see. I knew you couldn’t have forgotten me.”

“Of course not. And especially not that warm beer.”

That makes the stranger grimace. “Yikes. Forgive me for making someone as beautiful as you drink that.”

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say after that. He had just been called beautiful, and is he expected not to short-circuit afterwards? Namjoon wants to say more, wants this conversation never to end. But the more that he attempts to say something, the more he runs out of things to say. 

An announcement comes from the speakers but Namjoon no longer hears it. He can feel the plane begin to move, but he will forever be nailed down by that weapon of a smile. Especially when it is parting to say, “I’m so glad you’re letting me be with you on this trip just so I can buy you a proper drink this time.”

Namjoon breaks character. How could he not? He wants so badly for this man to ask him out for drinks in real life, not only in this make believe world they let themselves be sucked into. 

“You are?” Namjoon can hear the breathlessness in his voice.

There must have been something in the way he said it that makes the man in front of him look at him—properly look at him. And in a voice just as breathless, he says, “Yes.”

“I don’t like beer.” Is what Namjoon says. But as those words leave his mouth, he realizes that isn’t true. He would drink whatever this man would ask him to drink.

“I’m sorry to have made you drink that before.” A truly saddened expression crosses the man’s face. “This time, we can share your favorite.”

That makes Namjoon laugh. “We’re really flying to another country just so that we can share a bottle of wine?”

“Of course.” The man dares to behave bolder, coming closer and lifting a hand just so that he can give Namjoon’s chin an endeared squeeze. Namjoon is surprised that he is just letting this happen, not finding it in himself to pull away. Not even a little bit. “My darling only deserves the best in the world.”

Namjoon blushes. He can physically feel that he is blushing. He can feel the heat on his cheeks, rocketing up into his brain so fast he feels dizzy from it.

He ducks his head and the warmth of this man’s fingertips disappear from his chin. The stranger ducks his head too, following Namjoon’s face with his eyes and studying his reaction. He licks his lips, his hands moving back to behave on his lap. “Was that too much?”

Namjoon just blinks. He laughs, but that’s about all he can muster.

“Park Jimin.” The man finally introduces himself. 

“Oh, you live up to your name.” Sharp, clever, wise. He is all of that.

Jimin tilts his head, eyebrows raising expectantly. “Do I have to make up one for you?”

Namjoon laughs. “Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

“And this isn’t make-believe?”

Namjoon looks at him, baffled. “Is yours?”

“Of course not.” Jimin smiles that dangerous smile again. “I’ve been wanting to know what my name would sound like from your lips. Won’t you say it?”

Namjoon just smiles at him. How can a person have so much confidence stored in a body, a pack of bones?

Jimin raises his eyebrows hopefully and it makes Namjoon laugh. “Please?”

Namjoon purses his lips, but finds that he can’t deny this person anything. “Park Jimin-ssi.”

“Yes, baby?”

Taken aback, Namjoon echoes. “Baby?”

“Mm-hm?” There’s a smile so wide on Jimin’s face, his chipped-tooth on display. 

Namjoon lets himself gape. When he’s had enough of shock, he closes his mouth and, with the smuggest look he can muster, he challenges, “I bet you’re only using endearments because you’ve already forgotten my name. It isn’t as remark—”

“I’m not about to let you debase yourself in front of me, Kim Namjoon-ssi.” Jimin cuts Namjoon off. He chews on his lip, eyes trained on Namjoon as if studying him. He smiles, the same smug kind on Namjoon’s face. “I just like calling you baby and watching colors run up your cheeks. Do you not get called that a lot? Let me spoil you rotten.” 

Namjoon lets himself smile. “And if I want to spoil you?”

“Go on, then.” Jimin leans further into Namjoon’s space, his arm brushing against Namjoon’s which are resting on the arm rest. “Call me baby and I’m yours.”

Namjoon just stares at him. He can feel it on his tongue, the letter forming the words. He can taste it on his tongue too, what it would be like to spoil Jimin rotten. He’s so small compared to Namjoon, so delicate with those round eyes and those plump lips and Namjoon can’t help that feeling in his chest that wants to coddle. Spoil him, the dominant part of Namjoon is screaming. He wants you to.

Jimin looks at him through the thick of his lashes and it makes Namjoon want to cup his cheeks. But then Jimin opens his mouth and throws Namjoon off with the force of what he says. “Ruin your plans for me.”

Namjoon balks. “What?”

“Change everything, forget all of it.” There’s an earnestness in Jimin’s eyes, his voice, his entire body that makes Namjoon want to give in. “Spend your trip with me instead.”

With a purse of his lips, Namjoon responds with, “You don’t even know what my plans are. What if I’m leaving to get married?”

“Are you?”

And that look on Jimin’s face is so devastating, so transparently heartbreaking that Namjoon can’t bring himself to jest. He just stares at Jimin. Namjoon lets him claw his way into his chest and make a home in the hollow confines of it. 

“Spend your holiday with me.” Jimin insists. 

Namjoon leans back into the chair and Jimin leans further into his space. His hand is now completely resting on top of Namjoon’s arm, eyes wide as he says, “And then we can try us out.” Jimin licks his lips and Namjoon follows the movement with his eyes. “Let’s go out, pretend like we’ve been dating for years. If we don’t absolutely hate each other by the time we’re catching our planes home, then let me call you mine.”

With a lift of his brow, Namjoon asks, “And if I want to call you mine?”

Jimin blinks slowly, the flecks in his smoky irises exploding in colors. “Please.”

That gets Namjoon chuckling. He wants to reach out and pinch his cheeks, but he behaves himself. “You’re asking me to derail all my plans here.”

Jimin nods. “And I’m asking you to ruin mine in return.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “You don’t even know me.”

“Traveling as a couple will be the ultimate test.” Jimin squeezes Namjoon’s forearm, the warmth of his hands radiating up Namjoon’s entire arm and numbing it. “Wouldn’t it? Gamble on me.”

The greed in him wins. Namjoon is caressing a thumb against the plush white of Jimin’s cheek and giving it a soft pinch. “You’re so adamant.”

Jimin leans against the warmth of his hands, looking up at him as he cozies against the warmth. “That’s not a ‘no.’”

✮⋆˙

Namjoon has never seen a backpack so colossal that it had the capacity to hide a human being once it takes its place latched onto a back, and an especially small back at that. He blinks at it and blinks some more as Jimin’s blond head disappears behind the height of the bag. 

“Have you gotten everything?” The smaller man turns around, hoisting his mountain of a backpack higher on his back and adjusting the straps on his shoulders. 

He tries not to stare too much at the building strapped to Jimin’s back, but it’s the only thing he can see. Namjoon rolls his carry-on and nods at it. He clears his throat, letting the bag bother him enough. “Jimin-ssi—”

“Babe,” Jimin interrupts, a frown on his face. Somehow, the double-digit-hour flight hadn’t taken a toll on his skin, not when it looks pink and almost like a fresh drop of milk. Namjoon holds his breath when Jimin’s lips turn out into a pout, bottom lip jutted out. “Why are you being so formal with me?”

Right. They decided to experiment with dating—well, Namjoon can’t exactly call it that. They are dating by definition. Just…not really. Not in the emotional sense of it all. But, yes, by all means and purposes, Jimin is his for the next four, five days. 

“Well,” Namjoon clears his throat. He tries again, “Jimin—”

The pout on Jimin’s face becomes even more tragic. ‘Are you not giving in?’ is what it’s trying to say.

With enough grit, Namjoon lets himself fall right into Jimin’s step. “Jagiya…”

“Oh!” Jimin’s eyes brighten. “That, I like! I’ve never been called ‘jagiya’ before.” As if remembering, Jimin cocks his head expectantly at Namjoon. “What is it, baby?”

Namjoon can’t help it. He motions towards the backpack on Jimin’s back. “Let me carry that for you.”

“Huh?” Jimin turns his head to look at his backpack. “What, why? No need! I’ve been carrying this thing around for almost half a year. I’m pretty attached to it, if I’m being honest.”

He takes a step closer and tugs a strap down Jimin’s shoulder. He can imagine that it must ache. What did he mean by he had been carrying this giant of a knapsack for six months? “It’s what a good boyfriend should do.”

“Hm?” That obviously takes Jimin by surprise. He does let Namjoon take the bag from him, only able to watch as Namjoon slings it over his own shoulder.

It is heavy. Probably heavier than Jimin himself. Namjoon decides that Jimin should never have to carry this kind of cross in his life. Ever.

There’s a dumbstruck look on Jimin’s face and Namjoon tries not to gloat too much for having out-flirted him this time. Instead, he takes his carry-on along and begins walking towards the arrival gates and out into the taxi stands. 

“Hold on.” A tug on his sleeve makes Namjoon turn around. Jimin points in the opposite direction. “The trains are this way. You’re going the other way.”

Namjoon purses his lips and looks in the direction where Jimin is pointing. He sees the mill of people pouring into the station gates and the lines by the ticketing booths. He hums, tilting his head in uncertainty. “The train?”

“Where were you going?” Jimin looks past Namjoon’s shoulder. “Were you supposed to take a taxi? Really? But that’s quadruple the price of a train ride! Besides,” Jimin wraps a hand around Namjoon’s wrist and begins pulling him in the direction of the station. “It isn’t rush hour yet, there won’t be people on the train yet. Come on!”

Namjoon lets himself be pulled. He lets Jimin get him his ticket and Jimin, unsurprisingly, already has an app on his phone that functions as an electronic transportation card. True to Jimin’s word, it isn’t as crowded as Namjoon thought it would be. They take their seats and Jimin takes the enormous bag from Namjoon and lets it sit in between his legs by the floor. Jimin beams at him the moment the beeping sounds off and the train’s doors begin to close. 

“I have never encountered anyone who would willingly choose to take the taxi to a hotel from the airport.” Jimin says quietly. 

“It’s just convenient.” Namjoon replies. 

“But expensive.” Jimin looks at Namjoon, his eyes soaking in the material of Namjoon’s coat, his pants, the leather of his shoes, and then finally the brand on his carry-on. Jimin exhales a puff of air, eyes widening. “Damn.”

Namjoon will not tell Jimin that this might probably be the only time he has boarded a train his entire life. Was he not traveling correctly? A car takes him to places he needs to be in and, frankly, Namjoon has never given it much thought. Was there a correct way to go about a trip? Was it supposed to be on a train?

He doesn’t get his answers to his questions, not when Jimin is telling him that their stop is coming up. Namjoon follows Jimin as he navigates their way to his hotel, walking head-on with the confidence of a local. 

When they get to the reception, Namjoon tells the receptionist that he’s adding another guest to his reservation and the receptionist smiles and says, “Of course.” The keyboard goes tap, tap, tap as she inputs more information before asking for both Namjoon and Jimin’s passports. She looks their details over and once she’s satisfied, she hands them back. “Are you here to celebrate any special occasions?”

“Yes.” Namjoon answers with a dimpled smile. Something about the dumbstruck look on Jimin’s face is making him want to see it more, and so it bolsters Namjoon to say, “Our anniversary.”

“Oh, congratulations!” The receptionist smiles broadly at them. “Would you like your dinner at the bar or in your room?”

“In our room.” Namjoon turns to Jimin, eyebrows raised as if to confirm that his answer is correct. Jimin nods at him, a look of mild surprise on his face. Namjoon looks back at the receptionist. “Yes, we’d like that with a bottle of wine, please.”

“Yes, of course.” She types some more and hands a card back to Namjoon. “Here’s your membership card, Sir. Thank you for patronizing us during your special occasion. If you could follow your chaperone over there, he’ll take you up to your room.”

The skyscrapers of a backpack is dumped by the door. Namjoon follows Jimin into the spacious hotel room and watches as the blond presses himself against the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the river.

“Wow.” Jimin gushes. “I haven’t been in such a fancy hotel room before.”

There is no snappy remark that comes to mind and so Namjoon wisely shuts his mouth. He takes a seat by the nook, leaning his arm on the back of it as he peers out of the window. Namjoon hears Jimin say something about the view, and then something about the size of their room, and then something about the snack bar. Namjoon trails him with his eyes, a smile permanently on his lips as he watches Jimin tinker with everything his eyes land on. 

This is a complete stranger. Someone he literally does not know. And yet Namjoon can’t find it in himself to be bothered by it. 

“These have got to be expensive.” Jimin peers into the snack bin and the many chips and cookies and nuts in the basket. 

Namjoon crosses his legs and motions for Jimin to bring the basket to the table. “It’s complimentary the higher your membership tier is.”

“No way.” Jimin puts the snack bin on the table and slides in place beside Namjoon. “Only people with their shit together have memberships to a hotel.”

“You get more free stuff that way, you know.” Namjoon pushes the basket in front of Jimin. “Take your pick.”

The pinks on Jimin’s cheeks turn brighter in color. He looks through the snacks and takes an Apollo chocolate. “I didn’t know you were filthy rich.”

Namjoon watches as Jimin opens the pack of boxed chocolates and the small mountain-shape strawberry and chocolate mix pours out into his small palms. “I’m not.”

Jimin motions to the massive hotel room. “Uhu. I believe ya.”

A knock on the door with the announcement of room service is what saves Namjoon from that conversation. Their meal is laid out on the table by the nook, candles and a bouquet of flowers included. The bellboy finishes the touch with a pop of a wine cork, pouring two wine glasses full of burgundy wine. 

They sit side by side, their arms brushing against each other each time they reach for a dish. 

“Wow.” Jimin says with a sigh. He reaches for more chicken and munches on it. He waves his hand at the abundance of food and dessert. “It’s like the world is rewarding us for being a couple. I bet if you were traveling solo instead of saying it was our anniversary, you wouldn’t be getting this much complimentary shit.”

Namjoon just smiles at that, watching as Jimin shoves more food into his mouth and gets oil smeared against the corners of his lips. He has the mild urge to surge forward and lick it clean for him, but Namjoon stays bolted in his seat and pushes the napkin holder towards Jimin instead. 

In the middle of a pizza slice, Jimin folds his legs below him and looks at Namjoon squarely. “What were you supposed to be doing, really?” 

“Hm.” Namjoon cocks his head and takes a sip of his wine. What was he going to do? This was a spontaneous trip for him. He just needed to be away. Wherever was fine. Normally, on any trip, he would have an itinerary planned to the T. “Sightsee? Yeah. Drink a ton of coffee. Shop a little.” He puts his wine glass down. “You?”

Jimin nibbles at his pizza crust. He takes a napkin and dabs it against his lips before he’s reaching for his own glass of wine. “I have no idea.” He peers at the burgundy liquid in his glass and then drinks. “I was going to make plans after immigration, but then—” Jimin looks up at Namjoon through the rim of his glass, a sly smile on his lips, “My baby found me.”

“You didn’t have set plans.” Namjoon says, more of a statement than a question.

Putting his glass down, Jimin says, “After backpacking for a half a year, you realize that making no plans is the plan.”

“You’ve been backpacking?” Namjoon regards Jimin, unable to align his soft, delicate features for someone with an enormous backpack traversing the globe. “Where were you last?”

“Hong Kong.” Jimin answers. “Which reminds me,” he reaches over and rests his small hands on top of Namjoon’s big ones. Namjoon immediately wants to coil his fingers and swallow Jimin’s in his, but he doesn’t move. “I got  you a souvenir, honey. Hope you like it.”

Namjoon laughs, the kind that makes his chest ache. “You shouldn’t have.”

Jimin scooches in closer and Namjoon follows his every feline movement. Namjoon purses his lips as Jimin looks up at him through the thick of his lashes. “But you’re all I could think about.” Jimin gives Namjoon’s hand a squeeze, thumb running across the back of Namjoon’s. “Couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

He gravitates towards the cherry-buds that are Jimin’s lips. Namjoon can’t make himself get out of this hypnosis, Jimin is too strong a drug and Namjoon feels himself drawing nearer, bending down and inching closer, closer, closer. He breathes against Jimin’s lips, “Yeah?”

“Mm-hm.” Jimin’s voice comes out low and nods his head, the motion making his nose brush against the tip of Namjoon’s. Namjoon holds his breath when he feels Jimin come a little closer. A little more and he’s sure he’d taste him. “I missed you so much. You had no…”

Jimin trails off when Namjoon nudges closer, nose pressing against nose. Jimin rests his forehead against Namjoon’s, his breath coming out heavy and labored and Namjoon wants to cross the distance so badly. He can feel the flutter of Jimin’s lashes, the heat of his cheeks. God, Namjoon is beginning to think he can even hear the rapid beating of Jimin’s heart in his ribcage.

But instead, Namjoon eases the tension by teasingly saying, “No…? What was it you were saying? Did I interrupt you?”

Jimin snaps out of it, moving away and blinking rapidly at anywhere but Namjoon. “No, uh.” He hyper focuses on the view out the window. “I just—wow, the sun is setting! Let’s go down to the river!”

✮⋆˙

It is comical. The entire time they walked across the river, Namjoon had realized it was a bust. It was dusk and the light was beginning to scatter across the waters and out comes all these other pairs of people who either have their hands held together, pressed up together, or laying side by side by the banks together. 

Namjoon had almost wanted to hold his hand out and ask Jimin to hold onto him, but Jimin’s cheeks were beyond pink and Namjoon couldn’t tell if it was from the sunset or something else. So, instead he held out.

But now that they’re back in their hotel room, another dilemma arises as he opens the door that leads to the bedroom and realizes that there is only a singular, king-sized bed littered with rose petals sitting in the middle of the room.

“Let me take the couch.” Namjoon begins turning around and heading in the direction of the living room. “You can have the bed.”

“No, I’m smaller!” Jimin tugs at Namjoon’s sleeve, halting him. “And besides, this is your hotel room! I’m just imposing—”

“No,” Namjoon looks at Jimin. He shakes his head and takes a step closer, almost crowding Jimin against the door frame. “No, it’s our hotel room. We’re on our anniversary, did you forget?”

Jimin looks up at Namjoon, innocence painted across his face. “No, of course, I didn’t forget,” he says in a tone that can placate a scorned lover. “I just…” Jimin drops his hand from Namjoon’s sleeve. “Don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Experimentally, Namjoon holds his hand out. When Jimin doesn’t recoil, he rubs a careful hand up Jimin’s arm. “You’re not. I also just wanted to make you feel comfortable. I don’t want you sleeping on a couch our entire trip.”

“Pause.” Jimin sucks on his bottom lip, his cheeks glowing pink again. He laughs a little, the shy kind. “Hyung, I—I just don’t know how to push and pull with you. I thought I could just romance you, ya know. But you’re just so good, it’s throwing me off.”

Namjoon lets himself laugh, dissipating the nervous ball of energy circulating in his chest. “Every advance you make is welcome.”

“Really?” Jimin leans his head back against the door frame and takes Namjoon in at full height. “Then…” His eyes travel to the bed. “Mm…I wouldn’t mind it, um, if we shared the bed?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Namjoon exhales, “Sharing is…yeah. Okay.”

“I won’t touch you.” Jimin says quickly.

Namjoon surprises even himself with his own answer. “I wouldn’t mind it if you did.”

Jimin blinks at him, the pinks in his cheek darker now.

Chapter Text

The sun taps against the back of his eyelids, making Namjoon press his face into the soft warmness of a pillow. He tightens his arms around it, buries his nose into its fresh linen scent and rolls over it for a better position.

As he’s lifting a leg over and beginning to roll to his stomach, the pillow in his arms lets out a low grunt, quickly followed by a breathless chuckle.

Namjoon slowly opens his eyes, the blur in them yet to ease. But his eyes did not have to clear up for him to come to the realization that the pillow is not a pillow, but a blond angel tucked—squashed—underneath him. 

He stays very still, all his limbs locking in place. He knows that the correct move is to roll away, abruptly let go, and apologize. But Namjoon feels glued in place, stapled right where he is. And it is not helping that he feels that the person beneath him is welcoming the squeeze.

A hand curls lightly into the darks of his hair, a wheeze for a voice coming from Jimin as he says, “Awake already?”

Namjoon gives a stiff nod. He slowly lets up, alleviating most of his weight off of Jimin. But arms circle around his back, arms light as a feather, but feeling like permission nonetheless. 

“It’s okay.” Jimin whispers and Namjoon can feel the vibrations from his voice against his chest. “You can stay like this a little longer. I don’t mind.”

I’m sorry, Namjoon wants to say. But he knows he isn’t. He is not even close to being sorry. He wants to stay this way. The whole day. Fuck sightseeing. But he does feel sorry about dumping all his weight on someone so small and so soft and so, so fucking warm. 

He ends up rolling around, enough to lift most of his body weight away from Jimin but still close enough to press his face into the crook of Jimin’s neck. If he is being too sticky, he can’t find it in himself to be apologetic for his behavior. Namjoon reasons that this person is his boyfriend by definition. And a boyfriend is allowed to do this, right? So he stays that way, arms slung heavily over Jimin’s little body, nose stuck to the thin skin of Jimin’s throat. 

A giggle escapes Jimin, his entire body quaking with it. “That tickles!”

That makes Namjoon smile, a breathy laugh punching out of him. That puff of air just makes Jimin laugh a little more, enough for him to try to wiggle free. 

Jimin places both hands on Namjoon’s cheek and pries his face away from his neck. Namjoon grunts but lets himself be pulled up from his hiding place, only for him to be hit by the image of Jimin’s dewy, flushed face catching in the morning light.

He stares. He knows that he is staring. But he stares. And he just hovers. 

Jimin smiles up at him, blinking slowly. He says nothing. But the way that his lips spread apart as if sucking in air and the way his browns for eyes flick from Namjoon’s eyes to his lips is making Namjoon bend forward, bracing both arms beside Jimin’s head. 

“Hi.” Jimin whispers, breaking the silence. His chipped tooth comes on display and Namjoon kind of wants to kiss him for it. 

But Namjoon does not know where the line is, if there is one at all, or if he is toeing over it. So he just tucks Jimin in his arms and lets his hair fall over Jimin’s face, making the smaller man blink rapidly and erupt into another fit of giggles. 

Is this okay? He wants to ask, but the way Jimin is looking up at him with those dimples on his cheeks makes him think that he did not have to.

“Are you a breakfast kind of person?” Namjoon asks once the both of them are out of the bed and Jimin is in the bathroom with the door ajar, brushing his teeth.

“No.” Jimin answers. Namjoon can hear the water running in the sink as he’s putting his socks on. Jimin goes on to say, “I don’t really wake up in time for it anyway, so I just skip. Are you? A breakfast person?”

“Mm.” Namjoon hums his ascent. He fetches his beanie and decides whether to put it on indoors or wait until he’s outside. “There’s a breakfast buffet in this hotel. We should eat.”

Jimin emerges from the bathroom, a wide smile on his face and a hand on his hips. “You’re already telling me when and when not to eat?”

Namjoon pauses. He pockets his beanie and purses his lips. “No. Um. Yes? No, I’m…just saying we should have breakfast before heading out. You must be hungry. You shouldn’t skip meals. It’s not good for you.”

A laugh bounces across their massive hotel room. Jimin is shaking his head as he sits by the sofa and laces his shoes on. Once he’s done, he stands up and walks to Namjoon, looking up at him. 

“Alright.” Jimin smiles cheekily at him. “If my darling says so, then it should be done. But,” Jimin pauses as he slips on his coat, “we’re not getting a hotel breakfast buffet when there’s so many coffee shops in this city.”

The smaller man turns around, hands on the doorknob. “You like good coffee, right, baby?”

Namjoon nods, hypnotized.

“Then we’re not getting generic coffee at a buffet.” Jimin turns the knob and gestures for Namjoon to go on ahead. 

Namjoon wants to say that the coffee beans served in this hotel have been outsourced from Asia and Africa, and the brewers are all certified in their craft, so much so that they make coffee only at a certain temperature and never above or below. But Namjoon will not correct Jimin, not when he looks this proud and not with that smile. So he merely follows him out, that smile on his face an unknowing leash around Namjoon’s neck.

The moment they are out of the hotel lobby, Namjoon raises his hand to hail a cab but Jimin is quick to pull his arm down and chide him with, “What are you doing! We’re walking!”

“Walking.” Namjoon stares at Jimin. “Alright.”

Jimin shakes his head. “The next good coffee shop might just be around the corner and we’re gonna miss it if we get on a cab.”

“How would you know where the next good coffee shop is?” Namjoon asks, falling into step beside Jimin as he begins to walk down the street. 

“That’s easy.” Jimin beams at him. “It’s going to have a line and it’s not going to have chairs.”

Namjoon nods, but doesn’t really understand. “A standing coffee shop?”

Jimin just looks at Namjoon and laughs. Namjoon wants to scowl at him, but he can’t find it in himself to. He just follows Jimin like a moth drawn to a flame, believing in him with the force of faith. Blind, oblivious, but somehow never lost.

As if by magic, the moment they turn into a corner, a coffee shop with a line out front greets them. Jimin does not hesitate pulling Namjoon towards it, falling right in line. 

It takes them more than fifteen minutes to get their coffee, but by the time that they are sipping their first dose of caffeine, standing outside the shop in this cold, Namjoon hands it to Jimin. This coffee might just be better than the ones they brewed in the hotel. 

Jimin peels the thin wrap around his chocolate muffin. He takes a large bite, chews on it, and then gives a satisfactory sigh. He looks up at Namjoon and nudges him with his elbow. “Good, right?”

Namjoon just nods, bringing the straw to his lips. It is very good, but did he really have to be standing for breakfast?

“Here.” Jimin lifts the muffin towards Namjoon’s face. “Have a bite.”

Pursing his lips, Namjoon just blinks at the muffin. Jimin raises his eyebrows expectantly at Namjoon, obviously waiting for him to lean in and take a bite out of the sweet pastry directly from his hand. Like a baby bird.

As if sensing his hesitation, Jimin laughs and steps a little closer. He peels the wrap further down and positions the muffin exactly where he had bitten onto it to Namjoon. “Babe. You said we shouldn’t skip meals. Don’t be stubborn now.”

“I’m not being stubborn.” Namjoon lets himself frown slightly. It’s just that this muffin is all that was available after having to wait in front of so many other customers, and he wants Jimin to have it. With that small body, he should be nourishing it up for the day. 

“Yeah?” Jimin looks up at him sweetly, still patiently holding out the muffin for him. “Good, then take a bite. I don’t want my baby starving.”

Namjoon can feel heat rise to his ears and to the apples of his cheeks. Has he ever been coddled this way, even talked to by anyone this way? And as if having Jimin’s attention isn’t bad enough, Namjoon sees passersby give them a glance, snickering smiles on their faces as they whisper ‘So cute!’ He feels his face warm further and he sees Jimin’s smile widen even more, obviously enjoying Namjoon’s reaction.

He gives in. Opening his mouth and taking a bite. 

Jimin practically twinkles with triumph. He retrieves his hand, satisfied, and proceeds to finish off his breakfast.

“So about today.” Jimin says in between sips of his latte. “How ‘bout you go and decide where we go. What would you be doing if I wasn’t here? Something like that.” He looks up at Namjoon and smiles, “Let me experience a day you make.”

Shaking the emptied cup in his hand, Namjoon looks down at Jimin’s expectant face. “You might not like it. I’m boring.”

“Hm?” Jimin leans closer into Namjoon, letting their arms brush against each other’s. He tilts his head, the blond strands of his hair falling over his eyes and Namjoon has the urge to push it back. Jimin circles his arm over Namjoon’s and presses his chin playfully down on the taller man’s shoulder. Namjoon wants to lean forward, just a little bit more, just to let his lips brush against the other’s and call it an accident. But he stays still, letting Jimin cling onto him with roses blooming on his cheeks. 

Jimin peers up at him like that, apricot lips stretching into a smile. 

Namjoon can’t help it. He hasn’t been looked at like this his entire life. He licks his lips. “What?”

“I just don’t get it.” Jimin sighs, shaking his head but still with that smile on his face. 

“Get what?”

The curve of Jimin’s smile slopes in a teasing, dangerous direction. “How you can think you’re boring when I’ve been entranced by you this entire time.”

✮⋆˙

He really did think it was going to be boring, but definitely not for him. Just passing through the doors, Namjoon had already grabbed four, five, six different books in two different languages and tucked them beneath his arm. Normally, on a trip alone as he would, he’d find himself lost in different multiple bookstores just browsing. Picking up books, looking at their spine, and putting them back down. Only for him to pick it back up, open its covers, and regret ever putting them back down. Books abroad have better covers, he would argue. Somehow, the publishers are just always greener on the other side of the globe and sue him for judging books by their covers. 

This time around though, he finds himself half-heartedly flipping through literature as he gauges his companion’s reactions. Is he bored yet? 

But Jimin always seems to be engrossed in a book every time Namjoon looks up from a shelf to look for him. His nose is always buried in glossy art paper, little hands holding the spine of the book upright. It’s by their third bookstore and where Namjoon’s massive tote bag is eight books heavier that he notices a pattern. Jimin would beeline his way to the art books. He would flip through them and run his fingers over the art on the pages as if trying to soak up the very display into his pores. 

“Their collection is…” Jimin whispers as Namjoon steps in beside him to look over his shoulder. He runs his forefinger down the page, tracing the outline of the ukiyo-e sketch on the page. “This is crazy.”

They’re at a used bookstore now, the whole establishment in a basement and its pathways divided only by the floor to ceiling bookshelves stacked with yellowing, antiquated books from varying editions. 

Namjoon hums, watching as Jimin flips through the thin pages. “Mm, it’s a collection from 1979.”

“Do you see the colors?” Jimin lifts the book up higher for Namjoon to see. He points out the reds and the violets. “These must have been expensive to make back in the day. But look how vibrant. Still! After decades! This is insane.”

He just smiles at that. Jimin sighs and flips through more of the pages. When he’s reached the middle, he closes the book and turns the spine. When his eyes catch the tag, he seethes “Jesus” and puts the book back onto the shelf with much care. Once they’re out of the bookstore, Jimin shakes his head, “What kind of people can afford a book that expensive? My god.”

Namjoon just chuckles and pockets his hands. 

“That book is an entire family heirloom.” Jimin gushes in disbelief. 

Namjoon watches as Jimin pulls his scarf up to his nose. Jimin gives his legs a shake before he’s exhaling a puff of white air. Namjoon pulls his beanie out from his pockets, the one he couldn’t decide whether to wear inside or out but ended up not wearing at all. He pulls it over Jimin’s head, tucking his tufts of blond hair into the black yarn of the beanie. 

“Are you tired?” Namjoon asks, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Should we stop and sit for a bit?”

Jimin shakes his head, his cheeks and the tips of his nose turning a dark pink. “I haven’t seen enough of your day yet.”

Namjoon rubs his thumbs over the coolness of Jimin’s cheeks, warming him. “It’s our day now. And this is it. This is all I do.”

“I like it.” Jimin smiles at him. He closes his eyes and cozies into the warmth from Namjoon’s palms. “I want more days like these.”

He can’t help himself, that makes Namjoon smile and his heart beat thrice as fast in his chest. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Namjoon continues to cup Jimin’s cheek, just holding him in his palms like cupping water from a lake. “Do you want to see some more?”

Jimin nods. The smile he gives Namjoon is making him think that he is content like this, to be held delicately and regarded in a way so fragile. Namjoon promises to handle him with care. 

Just as when Namjoon is beginning to bring his hands down, Jimin brings his up and keeps Namjoon’s hands  in place. He presses both of Namjoon’s hands to his cheek, closes his eyes, and just breathes. “Not yet. Just a second.”

So Namjoon holds onto him for just another second longer. He watches as Jimin buries himself into Namjoon’s hands, cheeks pressed tightly against the palm of his hands. He looks like snow slowly melting once it lands on the heat radiating off a warm body. Jimin wiggles a little, a happy blush coating his cheeks. “So warm.”

In that moment, Namjoon finds himself wanting to bury Jimin in his very being, imbed him into his every bloodstream and let him be consumed by him in a way so whole Namjoon forgets himself. But that thought seemed too crazy, and so Namjoon lets himself be content with this: holding him in his hands.

When they pull apart, Namjoon suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He feels stained, somewhat and he never wants to be wiped clean. He clears his throat, flexing his hands by his sides. “I–uh—”

“Hm?” Jimin looks up curiously at Namjoon. 

He wants to hail a cab because where they’re going next isn’t exactly a walk for two, but he knows that Jimin wouldn’t approve of it. There might be a way via train, but Namjoon doesn’t know how to work the subways. So he folds. 

He chews on his lip as if chewing on his own pride. “...Need you to navigate.”

That makes Jimin laugh.

Namjoon takes him to a modern art museum. Right where all the art resides. It isn’t entirely selfless, Namjoon did have it in mind to visit the new installation in this very museum, but that thought goes to the back of his mind when Jimin plops down onto one of the benches, takes out a sketchbook from his bag, and begins to create. Namjoon sits beside him quietly. If he’s memorized the way Jimin’s fingers curl around the length of his charcoal pencils, Namjoon will never admit.

They go on like this the whole way. If there aren’t benches, Jimin would just stand, head bent down to his sketchbook and the scratching noises from his pencil blending in with the sound of footsteps. Namjoon is guessing that they must have been there for twice more time than they should have, but he isn’t complaining.

What he really wanted to show Jimin was inside the museum gift shop. The art book collection comes in a variety and the price isn’t one to break the bank. But each time Jimin picks a glossy-paper book up, he puts it right back down. 

Once out of the museum, Namjoon still ends up with another tote bag four books heavy. This time, the books are not for him. But Jimin doesn’t know that yet.

✮⋆˙

They settle at a park bench shaded over by yellowing leaves. The sun does not find them beneath it, but the chill still does.

Namjoon cups his hand around his second cup of coffee, hot this time. The wind isn’t blowing as hard and the cold doesn’t bite, so when Jimin crosses his legs and takes his sketchbook out again, Namjoon digs one of his new books out and cracks it open to read.

“Do you not feel cold?” Namjoon asks distractedly when a breeze passes them by.

Jimin lifts the coffee cup in his hands. “I’m good for now.”

“You’ll tell me when you’re cold?”

His hand on the sketchbook pauses. Jimin stills before slowly looking up at Namjoon. He’s smiling. And it’s that smile again, the fond kind that makes Namjoon feel like a grenade with its pin loose. Jimin sits up straighter, leaning his back against the bench. He continues to just look at Namjoon before saying, “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”

Taken aback, Namjoon licks his lips. “I’m sorry?”

“This whole charming bit.” Jimin gives Namjoon a once-over. “You’re completely unaware, aren’t you?”

Namjoon can feel his own brows meeting. “Charming?”

“Yeah.” Jimin exhales and a puff of white cloud comes out with his breath. “Of course you would be, this is probably just your main setting.”

“My—what?”

Jimin is bubbling up with chuckles now. “See–and you—you looking so confused is making me think you’re the cutest man alive.”

Sufficiently flustered, Namjoon stammers out, “Cute?”

Jimin just laughs. Probably already having had enough of flustering his red-cheeked companion. Truthfully, Namjoon in fact does not know. He was just asking if Jimin felt cold, wasn’t he? 

After having his fill of laughter, Jimin dusts off his pants and puts his sketchbook and pencil aside. He stands up and announces, “I’m getting a bagel. Want one?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon says, dazed. “Sure.”

“What kind?”

“Just…anything?”

“Alright.” Jimin laughs again. He seems to be finding Namjoon funny the more time they spend together, Namjoon thinks. He spends half the time talking and the other laughing. Mostly at Namjoon. “Just anything bagel for my baby comin’ up.”

Namjoon watches Jimin’s receding back, continues to watch as he falls in line at a bagel truck, and proceeds to just watch as he’s handing out a few bills and waits for his order. Before he could turn around, Namjoon sits the tote bag meant for Jimin beside him.

“Got you a churros for dessert, too,” Jimin says as he’s coming back with his two hands-full of food. “And a water. You should drink more water than coffee, darling. I’ll get worried. What’s this?”

Namjoon accepts both the lecture and the food, freeing Jimin’s hands from them. He sets the bagel, the churros, and the bottles of water in between them. He gives the tote bag a glance and nods at Jimin. “For you.”

“What?” Jimin takes the tote bag and peers inside it. Namjoon watches as Jimin’s eyes grow three times as wide, his cheeks dotting with pinks again as if signaling his delight. He takes one of the art books out, its heft heavy in his hands. “What!”

Namjoon smiles at that, content with the reaction he’s being given.

Jimin looks through the haul and then looks up abruptly at Namjoon. “Hyung—you didn’t have to. God, these are expensive—”

“Could you just give me a hug to thank me?” Namjoon interrupts. The moment he says it, he realizes just how much he was expecting and waiting for Jimin to just jump right into his arms and shower his face with grateful kisses. 

It makes Jimin laugh, of course. Everything Namjoon says or does only ever makes Jimin laugh. He puts the tote carefully back on the park bench and hurls himself right into Namjoon’s chest, both his arms circling around the bigger man’s neck. He’s laughing, giggling, and wiggling and Namjoon can’t feel more gratified than this. Is Namjoon waiting for a kiss? On the lips? Maybe. But he isn’t brave enough to ask for one yet. For now, a hug will do.

A kiss is planted on his cheek nonetheless and it makes Namjoon’s entire being soar. He feels warm all over, tingling to the tips of his toes. And as if that isn’t enough, Jimin is pressing his face against the crook of Namjoon’s neck and whispering, “Thank you.”

Namjoon circles his arms around Jimin’s waist, tucking Jimin’s head beneath his chin. “Are you happy?”

Another laugh. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon confirms.

“So much.” Jimin is nodding, his arms tightening around Namjoon. 

“Good.” Namjoon almost wants to bend lower, capture Jimin’s ear in his mouth and give its shell a little nip. But he doesn’t, instead he just lets his lips flutter against the pink shell of Jimin’s ear when he says, “I’m glad.”

Jimin pokes his face out from being squished against Namjoon’s neck. He peers up at him with a smile. “You’re glad?”

Namjoon hums. 

“Call me ‘jagiya,’ then.” Jimin presses his chin down against Namjoon’s chest, arms still wound tightly around Namjoon as if he is loath to part. “If you’re so glad.”

“Okay.” Namjoon smiles down at him. He tugs the skewed beanie back in place on Jimin’s blond head. “If that is what my jagiya wants.”

The pinks on Jimin’s cheeks are blooming and he gives out a contented giggle before burying his face back into the space where Namjoon’s shoulder and neck meets.

✮⋆˙

The park is a good thirty-five to forty minute walk away from their hotel, but the cool air is a welcome reprieve and Namjoon gets to let the back of his hand occasionally brush against the back of Jimin’s. 

Namjoon had watched Jimin devour three more bagels after splitting one with him. He had just shoved them into his mouth and swallowed them, and Namjoon tries to remember if Jimin had been chewing at all. It was a jalapeño cream cheese bagel first, and then a smoked salmon, and then a pizza bagel. Jimin had grease all over his lips and Namjoon did not hesitate wiping that off for him. That blush on Jimin’s cheek was more than satisfying to behold. 

As they near the river banks, Namjoon remembers how awkward the both of them were the night before. He gets that itch to hold Jimin’s hand again, his palms tingling from the anticipation of it all. He watches as Jimin shifts his tote bag of art books from one shoulder to the other, as if implicitly giving way for their arms to brush more as they walk. 

And maybe that’s invitation enough for Namjoon as he presses the back of his hand more deliberately against the back of Jimin’s, and when the other doesn’t pull away, he maneuvers his hand and touches his fingertips with Jimin’s. And when he still doesn’t pull away, Namjoon decidedly presses their palms against each other and laces their fingers together.

Jimin ducks his head and lets out a small chuckle. He purses his lips and looks sideways at Namjoon. “‘Finally.’ Is that what you said in your head?”

Namjoon just looks at him and doesn’t answer. He guesses that not answering is answer enough for Jimin as the smaller man tightens his fingers around Namjoon’s big ones and begins swaying their arms in between them. 

Licking his lips, Namjoon tugs Jimin closer to him, pulling him by the hand. “Do you like teasing me?”

Jimin laughs. He turns around and begins walking backwards, their hands still clasped tightly together. “I do. Yeah. Very much.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon raises his eyebrows at him. “What do you get out of it?”

Jimin hums, tilting his head. “Have I already told you how cute you are?”

“Yes.” Namjoon watches as Jimin bites his lip before he’s smiling wider.

“You get cuter when I get to catch you off guard.” Jimin smiles with the triumph of an Olympic gold medalist.

“Hm.” Namjoon hums. He watches as the sun catches in the flecks in Jimin’s irises, making it look like they’re sparkling. “But I’m never on guard with you.”

That response has Jimin’s eyes widening, the confident smile on his lips faltering, and him tripping on his own shoe. He begins to fall backward, only for Namjoon to pull him close with an arm around his waist, tugging him to his chest.

“Be careful!” Namjoon chides, hugging Jimin close. He looks down at him and asks, “Are you alright?”

Silence. And then quietly, Jimin whispers, face mushed against Namjoon’s chest. “No.”

“No?” Namjoon tries to pry Jimin away from his chest, bringing his hands up to his cheek to force him up and look at him.

Jimin blinks at Namjoon. Namjoon sees the tips of his ears a burgundy red and he pulls the beanie lower on his head. “My heart is racing too fast. Will you hug me tighter to calm me down?”

“Oh.” Namjoon lets his hands fall back to Jimin’s waist. He wraps the smaller man in his arms protectively. As Jimin is clasped tight to him, he does actually feel the other’s heart hammer harshly against his ribcage. “Yes. Alright.”

He feels Jimin’s arms wound tightly around his back as the blond buries his head further into the warmth of Namjoon’s arms. He whispers again, more breath than words, “Oh, no.”

Namjoon looks down at him worriedly, trying to see a glimpse of Jimin’s face. “Yes?”

Jimin looks up at him, a shy look on his face. That blush on his cheek and the corners of his eyes aren’t helping. “It’s just beating faster.”

That has Namjoon pausing. He’s been tricked, hasn’t he? Jimin laughs and laughs, and Namjoon debates about tackling him down onto the grassy slope then and there.

Chapter Text

Namjoon is trying to guess whether he had grown a liking to traveling by train or if this feeling is only bolstered by a specific someone who makes getting on and off subways feel like a romantic experience. Someone’s first kiss atop a scenic building is what stepping off of a train car hand in hand with Jimin is to Namjoon. God, they’re not even kissing. Not even close, not even by accident. And yet Namjoon’s insides are wreaking havoc in a way that makes his brain think that Jimin has his tongue curling against the wetness of Namjoon’s own. 

Or it could be that Namjoon has not had a bite of breakfast (it’s almost lunch now) and suddenly the war of hot and cold is blasting at him in all possible directions the moment they are out of the train station. The wind is biting, but without shade, the sun is scorching and he can’t decide whether to unzip his coat or zip it higher to cover his neck. Safe to say, his head is in a haze.

He should have known. When they decided that Jimin was going to have free rein over their day today, he should have known that breakfast wasn’t going to be on the table. Namjoon wants to scold him for it, but Jimin had gone willingly sans complaint to whatever made up Namjoon’s day yesterday and so he keeps his mouth shut. But he is hungry and he has not had a sip of coffee and—oh, they’re stopping at a hotdog stand.

Jimin lets go of Namjoon’s hand and Namjoon suddenly no longer has the appetite for the fucking hotdogs. 

“Babe.” Jimin nudges Namjoon, handing him a hotdog bun. “What is it? You look a little…”

Namjoon presents his hand to Jimin and the other looks up at him in surprise but does slide his hand into Namjoon’s big ones. Namjoon clasps Jimin’s hands in his tightly and says, “Do not let go.”

“Ah.” That makes Jimin laugh, but he nods his head nonetheless. “Yes.”

They eat beside the hotdog cart. Jimin finishes his hotdog in three bites and Namjoon does in five. If they looked ridiculous with hands held together as they gobbled down on hotdogs, Namjoon couldn’t be bothered to care. Jimin’s hands are for him to hold.

Even without breakfast, Namjoon does eventually find himself full. After the hotdog stand, they walk down the boardwalk where Jimin stops for tacos. It was good, but Namjoon did not like that they had to use both hands to eat them. 

People are beginning to mill around, there’s screams and chatter coming from the amusement park up ahead. When Jimin spots a powdered donut stall, he drags Namjoon to it and gets a bucketful. And as if all the others had not satiated his appetite enough, Jimin follows that up with raw clams.

It is finally when they are in line at an ice cream shop and are both watching Jimin’s soft serve be swirled around on its cone that Namjoon taps out.

“Jagiya.” He calls out once they’re out of the line and Jimin is licking at his ice cream cone. Jimin looks up at Namjoon with the innocence of a child getting caught with a popsicle on a summer day. Namjoon smiles at him and reaches out to tuck a strand of blond curl behind his ear. “Should we slow down? I’m worried you might get a stomachache.”

Jimin licks his lips and blinks at Namjoon. “Are you full?”

“It’s not that.” Namjoon chuckles. He wants so badly to scold him for replacing breakfast with junk food, but can he really already start nagging? No one wants that, right? And, really, does he have the guts to scold Jimin? Namjoon knows that he won’t be able to bring himself to do that.

Jimin bites at the soft serve, effectively halving the dessert. Namjoon almost winces imagining how the cold could have hurt Jimin’s teeth. Namjoon watches as Jimin also devours his ice cream in four bites. 

He dusts off his fingers and Namjoon offers him his own handkerchief to wipe the sticky sweetness of the ice cream away. He takes Jimin’s hand, turns it over, and wipes each of his fingers clean.

“Just a little bit more.” Jimin says quietly, as if seeking permission. Namjoon looks into his eyes and almost wants to kick himself for it. Why would he look into Jimin’s eyes if he was planning to say no? How could he disagree with him now? “Posts say that we should be eating our way through the pier before heading to the water. Baby, okay? Just one more and then we’ll sit down if you’re tired.”

“It’s not that I’m tired.” Namjoon brings Jimin’s hand to his lips and kisses a knuckle before placing his hand back down. He smiles softly at the younger and lets his hands caress the roundness of Jimin’s cheek. “I’m just worried that the mix and match of food might not agree with your stomach.”

Jimin cocks his head and just looks at Namjoon, as if thinking. Namjoon thinks that this is dangerous, this look on Jimin’s face could mean that he wants the moon and Namjoon would have gladly gone to space and gifted him the entire Milky Way. Jimin blinks, looks down, and tangles his fingers with Namjoon’s. Namjoon lets Jimin play with each of his fingers, pressing and massaging. 

When Jimin finally looks back up at Namjoon, he says, “But you’ll be there to care for me, right? Even if I have a stomach ache. Won’t you?”

Fuck . 

“Yes,” comes Namjoon’s easy reply. “Of course.”

And Namjoon knows he will. Even if Jimin did have a stomachache, he would have let him eat and eat and eat because he’d have stomach medicine and electrolyte drinks ready for him if need be.

“Then,” Jimin steps a little closer, close enough for both their chests to bump against each other’s if they wanted to. Namjoon looks down at him through the slope of his nose and Jimin is looking up at him with his head tilted up. “Can we get coffee next?”

Namjoon knows that Jimin knows that he’s got him. He lets a soft chuckle out, amused. “You don’t need my permission for anything.”

“I know that.” Jimin sucks in air and steps into Namjoon’s space. A little closer. Both their chests touch, and if Jimin wanted to he could rest his chin on Namjoon’s chest and look up at him that way. But Jimin maintains a short distance between them and it drives Namjoon insane. “But there’s just something in the way that you agree with me.”

Raising his eyebrows, Namjoon prompts, “Yeah?”

“It makes me feel…” Jimin hums, as if picking the right words. 

Namjoon is hanging onto every word. “Yes?”

But Jimin just smiles, bites his lip, and takes a step back. He tugs on Namjoon’s hand, pulling him along as he flashes Namjoon a smile, as if to distract him from the fact that Jimin had left him hanging. Worst part? It’s working. Tremendously. “Let’s go get that coffee.”

Namjoon feels thoroughly teased, wound so tight only for him to be left out to dry. But when they get to the beach, the sound of the waves and the taste of the salt in the air permeates all of his senses. And suddenly, all is forgiven with coffee and sand. 

✮⋆˙

“Is the counter alright?” A bright-eyed attendant asks. 

Jimin nods at him. “Yup, the counter’s good.”

But Namjoon wants to say that he preferred a table seat because then if they sat at the bar counter, he wouldn’t be able to unabashedly stare at his companion. But Jimin is already chatting up the attendant and following him as he is led to where the bar counter is. 

They’re finally getting a proper meal, an hour and a half past lunch time. Namjoon doesn’t complain, can’t find it in himself to do so when Jimin is smiling and laughing and playing. How will Namjoon ever tell him ‘no?’ No, instead, Namjoon merely smiles and nods and lifts Jimin up onto the bar stool with both hands on his waist. He obviously did not need the boost, but Namjoon will find every possible excuse to touch him.

“Thanks.” Jimin giggles, swiveling around in his seat as he pushes the menu in Namjoon’s direction.

He gives the menu a quick scan before asking, “What are you thinking of getting?”

Jimin replies with a hum. His eyes go down the list of food on the menu. “Bit of everything maybe?”

That makes Namjoon laugh, but he expected no less. “Get whatever you want.”

“Babe.” Jimin looks up at Namjoon and sighs. He just smiles and says nothing else. 

“Can I get you guys started on drinks?”

Jimin looks away and at the bartender. “Yes. What drink do you like making the most?”

“A long island iced tea.” The bartender answers easily, cheeky grin on display.

Namjoon shakes his head, but chuckles underneath his breath. “That would have a bit of everything.”

“Then a long island iced tea for me!” Jimin declares, laughing as he goes. “And for my boyfriend…” Jimin trails off and raises his eyebrows expectantly at Namjoon. “What are you having, baby?”

“Beer.” Namjoon smiles at Jimin. “On tap. Please.”

“Gotcha.” The bartender disappears behind the counter. 

Another waitstaff comes to take their food order and Jimin gets a bit of everything by ordering a tasting menu. Once their orders are placed, the bartender returns with their drinks and places both in front of them. Namjoon begins to open his mouth to say ‘Thanks,’ but the bartender’s question is making him shut his mouth back up. 

Because his question is “You guys on your first date?” The bartender is smiling at both of them, a knowing look on his face. 

“Ah.” Jimin stirs the alcohol with his straw. “It’s actually our anniversary. But you’re not entirely wrong. Are we acting so awkward that it’s giving us away?”

Were they? Awkward? Namjoon would not like to think so. What he said was true, his guard hasn’t been up since meeting Jimin and he hasn’t been given a reason to brace himself. He’s genuinely acting out on impulse and reacting on instinct. And so far he’s gotten through two whole days with Jimin beside him and a spat hasn’t occurred. He’d like to think he’s doing a good job. But now someone is asking if they’re new. Are they acting new? Weren’t they supposed to be playing-pretend as couples who have been together for ages? Their script is that they’re out on holiday celebrating their anniversary after all. 

“Not awkward per se.” The bartender places both hands on his side of the counter and shrugs at them. “You guys melt into each other, it’s crazy chemistry. It’s just the way you call out to him. Like you’re shy to do so.”

Namjoon clears his throat, circling an arm around Jimin’s waist. He lets his thumb brush up and down, a small placating movement. Namjoon can feel Jimin getting worked up, can practically hear the cogs in his brain turn. Jimin looks away at the bartender and then at Namjoon, that expression on his face saying ‘Please tell me what he’s saying isn’t true.’ 

With a small shake of his head, Namjoon appeases that knot beginning to form on Jimin’s brows. He smooths his hand up Jimin’s back and rests his hand on his shoulders, capturing Jimin’s earlobe in between his fingers and giving it a playful tug. 

“Shoo!” A woman’s voice booms just as when another bartender arrives behind the counter. She swats a heavy hand down the man’s back and bows her head apologetically at Namjoon and Jimin. “So sorry about him, sirs!” She pushes the bartender away with an earful of scolding and a handful of swats. “Do not play cupid! I’m not paying you to be one!”

That makes Jimin burst out laughing and Namjoon releases a relieved breath. Namjoon lets Jimin take his hand away from his shoulder and watches as the younger captures his hand in between both his small ones. Jimin stares at the back of Namjoon’s hand for a moment before he’s lifting Namjoon’s hand and giving his forefinger a light nip. 

“Ow.” Namjoon feigns. He gives Jimin’s chin a small flick, to tease. He purses his lip and watches as a slight frown shadows the brightness on Jimin’s face. He gives Jimin’s chin a pinch. “Don’t let what he said get to you.”

“I’m not.” Jimin laces both their fingers together and he rests both their hands atop the table. He fiddles with Namjoon’s fingers, pressing and caressing. “It’s just…I don’t want you to think I’m not comfortable around you. I like calling you baby, I promise.”

“Have you never used ‘ baby’ on anyone else before?” Namjoon takes his pint of beer and takes a swig. He sees it when Jimin eyes the big glass of ice cold beer, and that frown on his face deepens the moment he takes a sip.

“No, I have not. Hold on—” Jimin puts his hand on the brim of Namjoon’s pint glass, stopping Namjoon from taking another sip. He looks up at Namjoon with a confused look on his face. “You don’t like beer.”

A smile stretches across Namjoon’s face so wide he swears he feels his cheeks ache from it. “It’s our anniversary, nae sa—” Namjoon cuts himself short and corrects himself. “Jagiya. I just thought to commemorate the moment with a beer. Like the day we first met.”

It’s not real, how they first met. But that story is more compelling and Namjoon thinks that he will remember it for life, a phantom memory of how he met the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

“See.” Namjoon caresses Jimin’s cheek with a thumb. “Someone who is uncomfortable around me wouldn’t have remembered that I didn’t like beer. But you did.”

Jimin laughs, the relieved kind that makes the movements of his shoulders look lighter. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut as if to reprimand himself for getting in his own head. Namjoon doesn’t hesitate when he inches a little closer and plants a kiss to the side of Jimin’s head. To placate, to please, half for himself.

Pinks begin to color Jimin’s cheek and Namjoon has never been so eased to see someone blush. Jimin ducks his head before he’s leaning closer to Namjoon and presenting his cheek. “I want a little more.” He taps his cheek. “Right here.”

Namjoon obliges of course. He pinches Jimin’s cheek in between two fingers before he’s pressing his lips to his cheek. The moment he parts from him, he wishes he could give him some more. A little bit more. If only Jimin would ask. 

“Happy?” Namjoon grins at him. When Jimin nods, his blush rising to his ears, Namjoon decides to  push his luck. “Anywhere else?”

Jimin’s blush is now beginning to creep down his neck and Namjoon can only imagine just how warm his cheeks might be to the touch. Jimin opens his mouth to answer, turning a little in his bar stool to look at Namjoon as words get stuck on his tongue. But Namjoon waits for it, waiting for permission to fall from the pinks of his tongue and alleviate him from this longing. 

“And here’s your tasting menu and soup in a brioche bowl.” The same waitstaff who took their order appears out of nowhere and Namjoon sees Jimin jump a little in his seat. The waitstaff places their food on the counter with a little brownie a la mode as an extra dish. “Happy anniversary, sirs. This is a congratulations from all of us to both of you. Enjoy your meal!”

✮⋆˙

The only thing lighting their path now are lamp posts and the bright neon lights from the amusement park adjacent the boardwalk. Their shoes make clobbering noises against the wood of the flooring, its sound melting into the noise of pedestrians coupled with the loudness of the amusement park enjoyers. Still, despite all the noise, Namjoon feels like he is only hearing Jimin’s voice. Loud and clear with a lilt of a giggle each time he would answer a question. Namjoon notices that each time their answers match, Jimin squeezes Namjoon’s hand in his.

“Beach.” Jimin is saying now, letting their arms sway back and forth as they continue their walk. “Winter or summer?”

“Winter.” Namjoon answers. He sees the slight pout of Jimin’s lips. “I know you like it better in the summer.”

“I do.” Jimin sighs. “I like being in the water. Don’t you?”

He hums at that. “Witnessing water is enjoyable enough for me.”

Jimin gives him a curious look, but doesn’t question his answer. Namjoon tugs at his hand and Jimin raises a brow in expectation. Namjoon gestures at the air, their surroundings, this date. “Did you plan to get into the water today? In this weather?”

“Of course not.” Jimin tugs at Namjoon’s hand back. “I just really wanted to go to this place. This city is just an urban jungle, I had to at least see the nearest body of water.”

Namjoon just nods at that. Silence ensues for a moment before he’s asking, “Shellfish?”

“I love it.” Jimin smiles broadly. “Nothing fresher than raw shellfish.”

Namjoon crinkles his nose at that. “I don’t really like it.”

“No.” Jimin groans with the tone of witnessing a scandal. “No! But I fed you clams this morning. You should have told me ‘no.’”

“As if I could ever deny you.” The way that came out of Namjoon’s lips felt almost mechanical, something so natural and true that to say otherwise would be erasing his absolute truth. 

Jimin stops walking then. He steps right in front of Namjoon and looks up at him with an expression so open Namjoon is beginning to see him in a transparent light. Jimin says, “You even had beer for lunch. I wish you didn’t eat or drink something just because I think you like them. I want for you to enjoy our time together too.”

Namjoon smiles, the softest he can muster and fixes Jimin’s scarf for him. “Funny of you to think that my enjoyment is dependent on how we spend our day together.” Namjoon proceeds to reach for the hem of Jimin’s coat, zipping it up for him when the night air comes to put more chill in the air. “I’m a simple man,” Namjoon exhales, looking into Jimin’s eyes when he says, “I enjoy our dates simply because I spend them with you.”

A shuddering breath escapes Jimin and Namjoon fluffs up his scarf for him, lifting it higher over his chin to cover his neck from the cold. Jimin says nothing, but his lips are parted just enough for each breath to come out fogged. The tips of Jimin’s nose are pink, the tips of his ears are pink, his cheeks are pink. Namjoon tries to see how much more he can warm Jimin up, but what he ends up seeing is his untied laces. 

“Come here.” Namjoon pulls Jimin towards a bench, one lit brightly by a lamp post. He sits Jimin down before he is squatting down to tie his shoelaces together. When he is finished, he comes back up to full height and offers his hands for Jimin to take.

Jimin just blinks at him for a second, his cheeks pinker than the last. Could it be the orange hue from the lamp post? Jimin blinks at him, once, twice, thrice, before he’s taking a deep breath and taking Namjoon’s hands and helping himself stand back up.

But instead of landing on his two feet, he lands right into Namjoon’s arms, lips pressing right against Namjoon’s in a clumsy kiss. Namjoon almost steps back, but he stands his ground, supporting Jimin’s weight with both his hands as the smaller man rests all his weight on Namjoon’s chest. 

Before Namjoon can even savor the kiss, remember the softness of Jimin’s lips, Jimin is stepping back abruptly, fingers to his lips and eyes wide open like he couldn’t believe he had just done what he had done.

Namjoon is having none of it, though. He has tasted, and he has waited enough. And he will not wait any longer. He pulls Jimin back to him, one hand cupping Jimin’s cheek and the other supporting his nape as he slots his lips together in a better fit. 

Jimin gasps right into it, but doesn’t protest. It’s soft, hot—searing. Namjoon will ingrain into memory the way Jimin sighs against his lips, sighs in a way that tells him a boulder had just been lifted off his shoulders. Relief. No, this is release in its purest form. Jimin is surrendering and Namjoon knows that much. 

It isn’t heated, not a single bit. It is just lips pressing against lips, cushioned into the shape of each other’s, and yet Namjoon is electric everywhere. Blood rushing, hands shaking, mind buzzing. Shouts of Mine, mine, mine resound in Namjoon’s head, loud enough for him to drown everything but the man literally melting into the warmth of his embrace.

He can feel Jimin’s hands clutching at the lapels of his coat, can feel him burrow his tiny frame into Namjoon’s large ones, and yet Namjoon can’t shake the feeling that hesitation is seeping out of Jimin’s pores. Only a little, not even enough to notice, but Namjoon can be numb but still be aware of Jimin’s every minute movement. 

So he pulls away, separating lips from lips and it feels like tearing limb from limb. Namjoon licks his lips. He whispers, loud enough for his voice to disappear in between the little space dividing them. “More?”

A shaky laugh is what he gets in reply.

Namjoon brushes his thumb against Jimin’s warm cheeks. “No more, then?”

A sound of protest from the back of Jimin’s throat is what answers, coupled with his tiny fists clutching tighter around the fabric of Namjoon’s coat. That makes his spirit soar, but he will not push. 

With a hand running up and down Jimin’s spine in a pattern to soothe, Namjoon asks, “Should we head back?”

Jimin rests his forehead on Namjoon’s. He inhales deeply, exhales even deeper. And then he nods.

✮⋆˙

A cold, wet, very sticky face mask is placed on Namjoon’s face and he keeps perfectly still as he lets Jimin adjust the sheet mask on his face. Jimin’s fingers smooth out the ends of the hydrating mask and once he’s happy with his work, he giggles at Namjoon. 

They’re back in their hotel room now, warm air blasting from everywhere and they had let themselves be thawed in its heat. After taking a shower each, Jimin sat Namjoon down by the foot of their king sized bed and, well, now Namjoon has the smoothest face on planet earth.

“Do I look very funny?” Namjoon asks. He watches as Jimin tears a new pack open and proceeds to pat the moisturized sheet mask onto his face. 

Jimin presses his hands onto the edges of the face mask, tucking the ends to his chin. He looks over at Namjoon and points to his face. “Do I look funny?”

“You look very cute.” Namjoon answers.

A handful of Jimin’s products tumble around the table. Jimin stills for a moment before beginning to fix them upright. He sighs, back still to Namjoon when he mutters, “You can’t keep saying stuff like that and not expect me to swoon.” He turns around then, posture slouched as if defeated. “You’ve already made my knees weak, babe. What next?”

I’d like to make your lips numb next, is what Namjoon would have liked to say. But instead he pats the mattress, asking for Jimin to come sit on the space beside him. Jimin gets up from the vanity chair and takes the space beside him, his entire weight sagging against Namjoon’s own. Namjoon is quick to wrap an arm around Jimin’s shoulders, hand giving his shoulders a squeeze.

“Did today tire you out?” Namjoon asks instead, deviating the topic.

The other man’s head falls to his shoulder. “Mm. No. I liked today. Which one did you like better? Yesterday or today?”

“I liked both days.” When Jimin looks at him pointedly. He adds, “I mean it. Today was good too, I would never have thought about going to the ocean. But I’m glad we did.”

That answer seems to appease Jimin. “I liked yesterday more,” he tells Namjoon. “After being around and everywhere, I haven’t had a day to just…I don’t know, sit at a park and eat a bagel. I always just kept walking, you know? I tasted everything, walked everywhere. Sitting down like that and just spending my day so leisurely like that? I needed it. Badly. I didn’t even know.”

“You walked everywhere?” Namjoon decides to pick at his words because…he just wants to kiss so badly but is also waiting for Jimin to come do it himself. And somehow Namjoon finds the courage in himself to hoist Jimin’s legs up his lap, much to Jimin’s surprise. 

A startled sound comes out of him. He takes himself off of Namjoon’s shoulder only for Namjoon to knead a hand down his calf and for Jimin to support himself with both hands planted on the bed. He gives out a loud, contented sigh. 

“God.” Jimin breathes out, his legs relaxing and going soft underneath Namjoon’s calloused fingers. “Mm.”

Whatever it is that possessed Namjoon to start giving Jimin a massage, Namjoon is grateful to. Even with the sheet mask on, Namjoon can just tell that Jimin is radiating off a rosy glow. He looks content, relaxed, pliant even. 

And then suddenly Jimin is reaching out with both hands and Namjoon is just gravitating towards him, eyes half closed by the time Jimin’s fingers are a millimeter away from his face—only for Jimin to pluck the sheet mask from his face. 

Namjoon bites his tongue, tasting the disappointment in his mouth.

“Don’t you just feel refreshed?” Jimin is saying. He is taking his own face mask off and is pulling his legs away from Namjoon and is suddenly standing up and crossing the room to throw the masks away. 

Namjoon wants so badly to chase after him, pin him down beneath him, but he chooses to nod his head in agreement to whatever Jimin had just said. He heard none of it though. Whatever he had just been asked flew over his head.

When Jimin tucks himself beneath the sheets, Namjoon follows the queue. He turns most of the lights off and peels the covers off of his side of the bed.

He begins to turn around, back to Jimin as he always does, afraid to roll over on his side of the bed like he did their first night. Today was not a complete bust, he has to remind himself. They kissed. Finally. He should be content with it, taking their dates a step at a time. But a bigger part of him is begging for at least one more, maybe just a good night kiss.

A quiet murmur is what makes Namjoon’s heart skip a beat. A murmur that calls out, “...Babe?”

“Hm?” Namjoon prompts. He does not immediately turn around, even when the siren call is too loud to ignore. 

“Can I…” Jimin’s voice is shy when he says, “Is it okay if I ask to cuddle tonight?”

“Of course,” Namjoon is saying too quickly, almost breathlessly. He tries to slow down his movements, but can’t mask his excitement fast enough. He turns around almost immediately, front pressing against Jimin’s back as he’s curling his arms around the other’s middle and tucking him safely into the confines of his chest. 

Jimin is giggling, small body rocking with the effort. “You’re so silly.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon inhales Jimin in. “Silly is okay.”

For a moment, silence just stretches on. Namjoon closes his eyes and presses his nose to the crown of Jimin’s head, content to have his body eclipse Jimin’s. He waits for Jimin’s breathing to even out, his lids beginning to grow heavy. But Jimin’s breath catches now and then, and Namjoon stirs awake each time it happens. 

He stirs in his arms and Namjoon begins to wonder if he’s squeezing him too tight when all of a sudden Jimin is turning. To his back, and then to his side again, looking at Namjoon. 

It’s now Namjoon’s turn to catch his breath as he watches Jimin purse his lips and then bring his hands in between them. He presses a timid finger to one of Namjoon’s dimples. And, without warning, leans right in.

Namjoon is quick to get over his surprise. He pulls Jimin right in, encasing him into the confines of his arms and licking at the younger’s bottom lip. This time, Jimin opens up for him and Namjoon doesn’t hesitate slipping his tongue right in and tasting him even further. 

A moan punches right out of Jimin’s chest and Namjoon readily swallows, pressing Jimin further into him as if to soak him in completely. Jimin gasps, a hand coming up to press against Namjoon’s chest, fingers curling around the fabric of Namjoon’s pajama shirt.

Namjoon feels Jimin’s hand begin to feel at his chest, shaky fingers caressing at his chest and then down his stomach. He squeezes Jimin’s hip to signal his ascent, urging him to do more if he wanted. He feels it too when Jimin teases at the hem of his shirt, anticipating the moment that the other would just slip his hand in and obliterate the space this fabric is creating. He kisses him deeper, trying to tell him to Go, more, as much as you want.  

But Jimin’s hand stops right where they are, toying with the hem of his shirt until the fabric is balled into the tightness of his fist. And just like how he felt it earlier, he feels it again now. That hesitation, that little tick that is telling Jimin Slower, just a second, not yet.

Pulling away is the furthest from his mind. And yet the moment Jimin is pulling away, Namjoon does not dare to chase after him. He had been given a mile when he had asked for an inch, he can behave this much.

Jimin’s breath is short when he says “Good night” before he is tucking his face into the crook of Namjoon’s neck as if to hide himself in a lion’s mouth.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Mr. Kim, Mr. Kim.” The woman smiles at them and bows her head at both Namjoon and Jimin. “We’re so glad to have you join us for breakfast this morning. Please follow me to your table.”

Jimin looks cheekily at Namjoon, dimples decorating his cheeks. He wiggles his eyebrows at him, “I’m Mr. Kim?”

Namjoon just hums, a smile on his face as he puts a hand to the small of Jimin’s back and guides him as they both follow the hotel buffet hostess to their table. “You seem to like that.”

“Mm.” Jimin’s cheeks are rosy this morning. Namjoon would like to think it’s a happy glow. “Kim Jimin doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

“No,” Namjoon whispers into Jimin’s hair as he gives the crown of his head a small peck. “Sounds great.”

The hostess pulls out a heavy looking chair and gestures with her hands. She flashes them both a wide smile. “Here’s your table, sirs. Will you be having coffee or tea this morning?”

Namjoon pulls out the opposite chair for Jimin and waits for him to sit down fully before answering. “Coffee for me, please. Thanks.”

“Coffee.” Jimin smiles equally as wide at the hostess.

“For this morning, we will be serving our four-course breakfast with your choice of beverage. Will that be alright?” She asks.

“Yes.” Namjoon answers, nodding at her. “Thank you.”

“Wonderful.” She clasps her hands together and bows her head at both of them. “Your meal will be served shortly. Please enjoy.”

The moment she’s out of earshot, Jimin gapes at Namjoon. He watches as the younger looks around him and takes the high ceiling breakfast place. The sun streams in from the skylight ceiling. The chairs are far apart enough from each other that patrons wouldn’t be hearing conversations from the next table. The chairs are all cushioned armchairs that almost feel like they deliberately match the chair-to-table ratio for eating. 

Namjoon clearly sees the wonder and disbelief in Jimin’s eyes. His mouth stays open for a moment, taking the bright, glass-bubble place in. He points at the palm trees and whispers, “Are those real?”

“You don’t have to whisper.” Namjoon takes his table napkin and spreads it over his thighs. “Yes, they are real.”

“What the fuck.” Jimin slumps in his chair. “What the fuck! I’ve been skipping out on this breakfast? And you say this breakfast comes with our booking? God!”

Namjoon can only chuckle at that. 

“But wait.” Jimin looks around. “I thought it was a breakfast buffet. The lady just said it was a four-course breakfast—which…what? Breakfasts can have courses?”

“It’s more of a pastry buffet than a breakfast buffet.” Namjoon points at what looks like a bakery tucked at the far end of the place. “After we eat, we can take our pick of bread and sweets over there to go with our coffee should we want them later.”

Jimin looks in the bakery’s direction. When he turns around, his eyes are wide and sparkly, mouth open and lips glossy as if salivating. “My god.” He shakes his head. “And the only time I get to eat here is on our last day.”

Ah, there it is. Namjoon had spent all morning trying not to think about the fact that this is their last day. They’re both flying out tomorrow and Namjoon…well, put simply, he’d gladly put his life on hold and tour the world if only Jimin would ask him. 

But he hasn’t. And he hasn’t said anything about it being their last day. 

Until now.

Namjoon watches Jimin’s face carefully, trying to look for a hint of him having the same case of melancholia as him. Jimin puts a hand up to touch his lip, eyes going from wandering stardusts to shadowed dawn as he looks down at the table and gets lost in thought for a moment. 

He leans back against the chair, lips biting into the plush of his lower lip. He lets out a soft exhale before dropping his hand and looking up at Namjoon for a smile. 

Maybe, just maybe, Jimin might not want to part just yet.

After the second course, Namjoon puts his fork down and asks, “So, today. Would you like to do the honors of deciding?”

“No.” Jimin puts the last of the food into his mouth. A waitstaff comes shortly to clear their plate and comes back again with the third course. “Let’s…let the wind decide.”

“Alright.” Namjoon smiles at him, reaching over to swipe his thumb over Jimin’s bottom lip to take away imaginary crumbs. “Let’s let the wind decide.”

✮⋆˙

Going about a place without a specific area in mind is an activity that has never occurred to Namjoon. He had always known where he would go, what he would get, and if he had none, at least his feet would know where to take him to eat. After all, he wouldn’t be in a different city, in an entirely different continent, if he had nothing to do or get from that city. 

And so to be dragged about here and there, to enter stores ‘just because’ is new to him. Yes, he would frequent bookstores and enter and exit ones he’d see on sight. But that’s what bookstores are made for, aren’t they? But that is not the case for furniture stores.

Or is it? And only Namjoon did not know.

Namjoon doesn’t mind, though. Not in the least bit, not when Jimin is placing a hand on a heavy oak dining table, turning around to look at Namjoon, and saying, “This would look so good in our dining, baby. Don’t you think?”

Namjoon just hums, following one step behind as he nods his head taking the role of the dutiful husband. “Yes. It will match our counter island.”

It will. Match his counter island back home.

“And these lights.” Jimin touches a moss green floor lamp. “For the living room? What do you think?”

“We can get a rug to match.” Namjoon acquiesces. 

With a happy smile, Jimin loops his arm around Namjoon’s and walks this maze of a store with him. “So glad our tastes match.”

“Yes.” Namjoon nuzzles his nose into the crown of Jimin’s hair. “A perfect match.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, fingers tangling into Namjoon’s big ones and effectively halting him in his step too. Namjoon turns to look at Jimin with a raised brow. “Jagi? What is it?”

“You.” Jimin clicks his tongue. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and shakes his head at Namjoon. He squeezes Namjoon’s fingers in his palms. He shakes his head again, but his face looks so openly happy, cheeks tainted a blush of pink and a soft look in his eyes. He sighs, “Just…you.”

Namjoon wants to ask what that means, what that could mean for both of them. Are they no longer playing pretend? Are they toeing the line of reality? When? Now? Please?

But before Namjoon can let the want seep out of his every system, Jimin is detangling his fingers from his and is landing butt-first on a mattress. Namjoon follows him towards it, of course.

“This, babe?” Jimin pats the mattress. “For the bedroom? Or too small?”

“Too small.” Namjoon helps Jimin up from the bed. He walks them to a king size mattress that is more or less the same make as the one he has back at his house. “This one. Give it a try?”

Jimin plops down onto it, his weight cushioning right into the thick softness of the mattress’s material. He looks up at Namjoon, eyes wide. “Wow.”

Namjoon pinches his cheek. “Heard it’s good for your back.”

“Yeah, no wonder.” Jimin lays down, legs dangling over the edge. Namjoon sits beside him and follows, slowly letting himself lie down beside Jimin. Fingers find his and Namjoon lets himself smile when Jimin so easily laces their fingers together and brings it up in the air to look at their hands. 

Jimin whispers, “Have you ever done anything like this?”

Namjoon closes his fingers around Jimin’s. “No. Have you?”

“Me neither.” Jimin brings both their hands to his chest and just lets it rest there. Namjoon can feel his heart beating against the back of his hands and Namjoon closes his eyes to engrave that soft, rhythmic beating into the back of his mind. Jimin whispers, “I like this.”

“Mm.” Namjoon hums. “Yes. I like this.”

All of a sudden Jimin sits up and leans half his body over Namjoon’s, bracketing both hands beside Namjoon’s head. He has a giggle in his voice, hair falling and spilling over Namjoon’s face, when he asks, “Should we look at glassware for the dining?”

In the most simplest words, Namjoon is captivated. Completely taken by Jimin that he is in a constant rose-colored lens he wishes never to be rid of. He just smiles at whatever Jimin had said, but he knows he heard none of it. How could he when a beauty this bewitching is bestowing him a sight like this? To be showered by his allure and to be smiled at this way? Namjoon is gone. 

And so he only finds himself lifting a hand to cup Jimin’s cheek, fingers brushing over the blond strands by his ear. And whatever Jimin finds in Namjoon’s returning smile seems to satisfy him, because he gets up and pulls Namjoon to his feet, dragging him towards the tableware. 

Somewhere in the middle of deciding between a crystalline old-fashioned glass for whiskey or coupe glasses for champagne, a store attendant greets them both with a smile, saying, “Excuse me, sirs. Is there anything I can help you with? Shall we create your wedding register?”

Namjoon can see Jimin visibly get flustered, his already pink cheeks are beginning to grow prominently red. He has a frazzled but very flattered look in his eyes. Jimin smiles back at him, lips pulling in tightly to show a shy smile. He presses himself a little closer to Namjoon, almost as if to hide behind him. He looks up at the older, eyes with the obvious question of ‘What do we say?’ But none of whatever is written in his eyes is saying ‘No.’

Which gives Namjoon the courage to say, “We’re only beginning to start looking. We love your pieces, so once my fiancé and I have decided on what we want together, we’ll definitely give you a call.”

“Of course, sir.” The store attendant presents a calling card for Namjoon to take. “Should you wish for any other piece that isn’t in store, we’re glad to find them for you. Please reach out any time.”

“Thank you.” Namjoon slips a hand around Jimin’s waist. “That’s very generous.”

As the store attendant excuses himself, Jimin is beginning to feel like livewire in his hands. Obviously brimming with energy, questions, a myriad of things, and yet keeping still just on the brink of exploding. He steps in front of Namjoon and just smiles at him, teeth biting onto bottom lip as he fails to contain a very tickled smile.

Whatever Namjoon had just done pleased him in some way, and Namjoon soaks up the high from this approval. 

The next time Jimin lifts something to Namjoon’s face to ask him if it matched their plates at home, Namjoon has to resist the temptation to answer him with, ‘Yes, my love. Anything, my love.’

✮⋆˙

The amount of things in their cart is concerning—no, scratch that, the things in their cart are concerning. Namjoon has never had this much processed, reheatable food before, nor has he even seen one before. But Jimin does not have to know that this is his first time in a mega supermarket that sold items in bulk and everything looks like it could serve a family of five for at least two weeks. 

“I’m not sure if they carry wine that would fit your caliber of taste.” Jimin turns a bottle in his hand and looks at the alcohol content. He holds it up for Namjoon to see. “Are you okay to have cheap wine for dinner?”

“My—” Namjoon chuckles. “Whatever we can make for dinner is great, jagiya.”

Jimin proceeds to put the wine in their cart. “You’re only saying that now.” He points an accusatory finger at Namjoon, “You don’t even know that I don’t know how to cook.”

“I do now.” Namjoon laughs a little, capturing Jimin’s pointed finger and giving his fingertip a kiss. “And that’s alright. You do not need to know how to cook.”

And that is because Namjoon doesn’t know how to either. He didn’t need to learn how to, not when someone does his groceries for him, and stocks his fridge and pantry for him, and…prepares his meals for him. It’s what people call a private chef, thank you very much. He does not offer that information for Jimin, however. 

Jimin had volunteered the idea of shopping for dinner, and Namjoon is eager to see what he comes up with.

The moment they are back in the hotel, Jimin begins to busy himself in the kitchenette that they had ignored. By “busy himself” Namjoon meant that Jimin had utilized the amazing powers of a microwave and an oven. 

“Can I help?” Namjoon washes his hands in the sink.

“Mm.” Jimin pops his head out from the cupboards and pulls out plates and glasses. “Set the table please?”

Namjoon takes the glassware from him without a word and lays them dutifully on the table like how an obedient husband would. 

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes!” Jimin hollers from the kitchenette. Namjoon smiles to himself at that, imagining what it would be like to have Jimin at the house and yelling out chores for them to accomplish. 

That image is so vivid in his mind that once it had crossed, it stayed. He wants to have it come true so badly, he needs it to come true so badly.

And yet it’s their last day together and Namjoon can’t place if he’s shown how genuine he is about all this. He isn’t pretending anymore, not since…well, not since he had held his hands down by the riverbanks. Namjoon knows that he has been in his purest, rawest form in the midst of Jimin’s company. He had completely laid himself out there bare, all of it for Jimin to witness. He wonders if Jimin knows that he has Namjoon in his most candid. 

This trip had already served its purpose. He needed time away from work, to get a good enough excuse to book shop and fill his library further. Normally, he would have no qualms getting on his flight back home and getting back to work, now he finds himself reluctant to go. And yet he always loved his work. 

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t actually start considering that wedding register at the furniture store. 

“Babe? Come sit.” Jimin is placing the microwave pizza and the oven lasagna on the table. He had already plated ready-made garlic bread on a crystalline serving plate.

He is looking up at Namjoon as if waiting for praise, and Namjoon does not disappoint. “This looks delicious.”

Jimin is smiling that smile that Namjoon loves so much. He looks so proud of himself and Namjoon wants to always be the reason why Jimin is feeling so. He hands Namjoon the wine. “Would you open this for us? You’re stronger than I am, my l0— Could you do it?”

Namjoon will pretend not to hear it if Jimin is going to pretend like he didn’t say it. So Namjoon just takes the wine bottle from Jimin and uncorks it open. 

Once wine has been poured, they clink glasses. Jimin says, “Ha…to our last night together.”

What else can Namjoon do but simply smile at that? He smiles a little, but can feel his face feel tight, feel the smile not reach his eyes. He takes a sip of the wine, the cool nutty taste of it coursing down his throat. He purses his lips, sealing the taste of the wine in his mouth. 

“If…” Jimin begins to say. He nurses his wine to his chest. “If you were on a legitimate anniversary would this be something you’d do?”

Without missing a beat, Namjoon replies, “We are on a legitimate anniversary. This is the time we’ve met. And we are simply celebrating it together.”

Tongue meets bottom lip as Jimin swipes it across. He takes a deep inhale and just looks at Namjoon. Namjoon just stares at him back, and for a moment he gets the feeling that they’re both just trying to soak each other up. As much as they can. 

After that last plane, what then?

“You’ve had, uh, how do I put this…” Jimin takes a sip of his wine. “You’ve had a few, um, lovers before?”

A laugh bubbles up Namjoon’s chest. He takes a piece of pizza and puts it on his plate. “No. Not a few. A singular human being, yes.”

“And that…is…?” Jimin looks like he’s struggling so much for words. 

So Namjoon decides to put him out of his misery. “Didn’t work out.” He clicks his tongue, “He wanted to settle down. He was twenty-two, I was twenty-one. He wanted a family. Two children, he said. But I knew I had work waiting for me.”

Jimin nods his head. He takes some of the lasagna onto his plate and takes a fork. “And now…you’re…?”

“I’m more settled,” Namjoon answers. He wishes the sincerity is clear in his voice. “I’m ready.”

Mud-pie eyes look up startlingly open at him. “With him?” 

“No.” Namjoon laughs a little. “No, not with him. He’s married now. I don’t know where he is.”

It’s faint, but Namjoon still sees it, that small smile threatening to break across the corners of Jimin’s ruby lips. It gives him hope, god, it’s giving him a sense of reassurance. Namjoon tries his luck. “So you’ve never called ‘baby’ anyone before?”

Jimin splutters. Namjoon pushes a napkin towards him and the younger dabs his lips with it. He looks up at Namjoon, cheeks pink. “Yeah. Um. Never.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon takes a bite out of his pizza. “How come? You like other endearments better or…?”

“Ah.” Jimin looks like he’d rather be digging a hole for himself to burrow in, but Namjoon would really like an answer for this question. Jimin takes a nervous sip of the wine before trying to casually resume eating his pasta. “Uh, just you know, never had one. Before. Ever. I…wanted to travel and I thought that, uh…” He chews for a moment. “To have to bring someone along for it would be a burden.”

Namjoon hums. Another bite of pizza. “Was I a burden? To your trip?”

“No!” Jimin puts his fork down and looks directly into Namjoon’s eyes. Eyes so filled with earnestness. “No! I loved our time together. I liked our trip. This is probably the best out of everywhere else. I loved your company. I woke up everyday looking forward to where we’ll go and—” 

Jimin comes to an abrupt stop, as if sensing he’s said too much. Namjoon knows he’s smiling a very big smile. Jimin takes a deep breath. He looks down at his food and digs back in. He softly adds, “I like being with you. Around you. Beside you. Wherever with you.”

 “‘Wherever with me?’”

Jimin stabs at his lasagna. He doesn’t look at Namjoon, but he can still see the reds blossoming on his cheeks. “Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Silence. 

“Jagi…” Namjoon breaks it this time. He takes a deep breath and braves looking at Jimin. The other is already looking at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. He lets the words roll out of his tongue. “This conversation. It’s not play-pretend for me.”

Jimin only blinks at his now empty plate. “Just this conversation?”

“No.” Namjoon answers, letting his guts bleed out openly. “This whole trip. I—”

“For me, too.” Jimin exhales. He puts his fork down and peeks at Namjoon through the thick of his lashes. “My pretense. I had left it on that plane. Everything else…I was genuine about.”

✮⋆˙

Lights are turned off and a towel is hung to dry. Namjoon exits the bathroom, hair still damp when he spots Jimin on their king size bed with a glass of wine in one hand and the remote control in the other. 

The TV is murmuring in a low volume, an old black and white film making the bedroom glow a low white.  Their unfinished bottle of wine is on the side table and an empty glass sits beside it.

Jimin, already wrapped in the fluffy hotel bathrobe and tucked into the blankets, smiles at him and says, “Come finish the wine with me?”

Wordlessly, Namjoon climbs into bed and pours himself a glass. He adjusts the pillows and rests his back against the backrest, taking a sip of the burgundy liquid as he tunes into Jimin’s choice of film.

“Can I scooch in?” A voice so small asks. 

Namjoon opens his arms up and pushes the covers lower to make space. Jimin climbs right in, making home in the nook of Namjoon’s arms and side. He places most of his weight on Namjoon, back pressed against the older’s arm and side pressing tightly on Namjoon’s own. For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t know where to place his hands. Ultimately, he circles an arm around Jimin’s waist.

Jimin coops up in his arms like this as they watch the film, sipping his wine and presenting his wine glass each time it empties for Namjoon to top off. They stay quiet, only the low hum of the film filling the room. 

It’s small, but Namjoon notices the minute movements. He smiles against the mouth of his wine glass when Jimin’s leg presses against his, slowly making its way to tangle limbs with limbs. Jimin had been scooting closer and closer and by now, as they near the bottom of the wine glass, he is almost sitting right on top of Namjoon’s lap.

He is not complaining though.

Bare legs knot against Namjoon’s clothed ones. And for ones, he wishes he owned pajama shorts. 

Jimin tilts his empty glass and asks, “More?”

Namjoon pours the last of the wine. “We’ve finished it. Would you like me to get the other one from the fridge?”

“Mm-mm.” Jimin tips the glass back and empties it with one big gulp. “I’m good.” 

Namjoon presents his hand and asks for Jimin’s empty glass to stow away, leaving the wine-stained glasses by the side table. They resume watching the movie in silence and yet Namjoon absorbs none of it.

Because one moment Jimin is toeing at his shin and the next he’s bringing both of Namjoon’s hands to his lap and tracing lazy circles into his palms. And as if that wasn’t already distraction enough, Jimin leans further into his space, nose brushing back and forth against the column of his throat.

He can feel his hand twitch from where they are around Jimin’s waist. He keeps still. As much as he would love to pin Jimin down beneath his body, he is unsure of what Jimin is trying to tell him. So he lets him nose around his throat and make a home on his lap.

Until Jimin tsk s and gives Namjoon a look. As if it’s his resolve that is breaking, he frowns at Namjoon, faces him completely, and climbs onto his lap to straddle him. Jimin takes Namjoon’s hands and places them around his waist. He lets one side of his bathrobe fall off his shoulder, exposing bare skin. 

Namjoon’s mouth waters at the site of his nipples, thoughts immediately going to how they would taste like pressing onto the pads of his tongue. His throat is suddenly too dry, hands squeezing Jimin’s waist to keep from grinding up the shape of his ass. 

Jimin circles both arms around his neck, face coming closer. Close enough for their noses to touch if only Namjoon would nudge him a little bit. “Do I always have to be this forward for you to get the hint?”

A chuckle escapes Namjoon’s lips. He lets his thumbs brush up and down Jimin’s waist, trying to soothe. “Yes. Actually. If that’s alright with you.”

“Fine.” Jimin bites at the tip of Namjoon’s nose. “Then, I will be from now on. Now touch me already.”

Namjoon’s patience snags, his own resolve crumbling down to the pits of hell. He surges forward, not needing to be told twice, and captures Jimin’s lips in his. He bites into the plush of his lips, greedily slipping his tongue in and pushing Jimin closer to his chest.

Jimin’s hands wind into the strands of Namjoon’s hair. He reciprocates immediately, pushing back with as much eagerness as Namjoon. Hungry, thirsty, starved. There is more bite to him than usual, his fingers digging into Namjoon’s scalp as if by doing so he is able to imbed himself into Namjoon completely.

He slips his tongue into Namjoon’s mouth and Namjoon is quick to give it a suck. Jimin keens against his lips, fingers tightening their hold and beginning to grasp at the roots. It’s painful, but Namjoon only retaliates by flicking his tongue onto the roof of Jimin’s mouth and extracting a mewl from the younger.

“More?” Namjoon asks between kisses, saliva coating his lips.

Jimin licks at his lips and slides his tongue back into his mouth. He doesn’t part, his lips brushing against Namjoon’s still when he demands, “Don’t stop. Not until we have to.” He sucks Namjoon’s bottom lip into his mouth and Namjoon groans at the touch. “Baby? Okay? Don’t stop. Not until we absolutely have to get on our plane. Until then, don’t stop. Don’t pull away. Promise me. Promise me.”

Chapter Text

Lips follow the line of Jimin’s jaw up to the shell of his ear. Namjoon intentionally lets his lips brush against the already red curve of the younger’s ear when he whispers, “Anything, sarang . Anything you want.”

A needy whimper scrapes across Jimin’s throat and Namjoon makes sure to cushion it with the slip of his tongue back into Jimin’s mouth. Jimin’s hands are beginning to wander, braver each time they pass more skin. Namjoon lets him map out his chest, heated fingers branding each crevice of honey skin. He feels electric everywhere he’s touched, each teasing fingertip like a restless itch coming from beneath his skin.  

Bravery comes in the form of Jimin slipping his hands beneath Namjoon’s pajama shirt. And as if he is the one being touched, Jimin moans out a little the moment his fingers come into contact with Namjoon’s stomach. Namjoon arches up into his touch, asking, seeking, insisting for More, more, more.

This time, Jimin doesn’t hold back. He touches and squeezes and flicks, fingers greedily drinking up portion after portion of skin and Namjoon rewards him for it by ravenously taking Jimin in his mouth and squeezing his hips in an urge to ask him to move if he so wishes. 

Fingers begin to tickle over the waistband of Namjoon’s pajamas and he acquiesces by leaning slightly back into the pillows. Shaky fingers trace the seams, Jimin’s breath beginning to labor as if the one being touched and teased and left wanting is him. To give him a little push, Namjoon skims his big hands over both of Jimin’s thick, strong thighs, digging his fingertips into the plush blush-porcelain flesh. 

“I’m…” Jimin gasps out from in between tangled tongues. “I…” His hands hover over the very obvious bulge in the front of Namjoon’s pants.

Namjoon digs his teeth into Jimin's bottom lip and pulls. “Would you like me to say ‘please?’”

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow as if hearing the words come out of Namjoon’s mouth is already more than good enough. Namjoon can’t help but think he looks already wrecked, ruined enough to have tears pulling by the corners of his eyes and pink down to his toes. 

Namjoon decides to be the daring one out of them both. He pushes down the waistband of his pajama pants and lets himself spring free. He lightly pulls at Jimin's wrist and guides him to wrap his fingers around Namjoon’s achingly hard cock. 

Namjoon moans into it, hips automatically bucking into the heat of Jimin’s palms. Jimin’s face contorts at the sight, looking down in between them with his lip caught in between his teeth. Namjoon breathes out, encouraging him, “Good already.”

Jimin chuckles, nervous and small. He squeezes Namjoon in his hand, as if experimenting before beginning to slide him up and down his palm. His eyes remain glued on Namjoon’s cock, as if waiting to see if its slit would weep for him. Namjoon’s brain is a wet, heaping mess. All he can think of is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, faster.

The moment Jimin begins to pick-up the pace, flicking his wrist and tightening his fist each time he comes up to the tip, Namjoon applies pressure to the small of his back and urges him to scoot closer. 

Namjoon gives Jimin’s thighs a little squeeze, inching his thumb closer to the insides of his thighs. When Jimin doesn’t protest, he parts Jimin’s bathrobe and wraps his own hand around Jimin’s hard cock. 

“Ha.” Jimin exhales, hips automatically rocking into Namjoon’s hold. 

Namjoon hums, applying force with the hand on Jimin’s waist and pulling him tightly to his chest. “Come here, love. Come here.”

He aligns their cocks together, wraps Jimin’s small hands around them both, and then wraps his big hands around Jimin’s small ones and begins pumping them in his hands. 

Jimin moans at the change in pressure, his cock twitching against Namjoon’s in a kick of pleasure. Namjoon gives his hips another squeeze, encouraging him to rut into their hands and Jimin does, cock sliding against Namjoon’s own. And, god, it feels good, so good Namjoon begins to see white from the edges of his eyes. 

“Oh,” Jimin exhales, pressing his forehead to Namjoon’s as his hips hasten in pace. “Oh, baby.” 

Namjoon captures the other’s lips back into his, swallowing each moan for every time a spike of pleasure rushes up their spines. Namjoon pumps them through it, squeezing and twisting and rotating, thumb occasionally flicking against Jimin’s glistening slit. 

“Mm!” Jimin exclaims against his lips. He pulls away abruptly to warn, “Close! Oh, god. Cl—”

With both hands, Namjoon trades both their cocks for Jimin’s waist and pushes him up to align cock-to-face. Namjoon positions Jimin just enough for him to wrap his mouth around Jimin’s cock and suck. 

“Baby, w-wait—ah!” Jimin exclaims in both surprise and in a spike of pleasure. He wobbles a little, both hands pressing tightly down on Namjoon’s shoulder as Namjoon slurps around his cock and unabashedly fists at the fat of his ass, pushing him each time to rock back acrossNamjoon’s wet tongue. 

Fingers tangle into his hair and Namjoon looks up to see Jimin looking down at him with a hazy look in his eyes. His mouth is hanging open, eyes trained on Namjoon’s wet lips, tightly locked around his cock. The sight only makes Namjoon suckle on Jimin’s cock more, sucking with a little bit more purpose, tonguing against the sensitive nerves along the underside of his cock harder. 

Jimin’s cock twitches in Namjoon’s mouth and he can tell how hard Jimin is trying to hold back. But with just another flick of his tongue, Namjoon is suddenly getting a tongue-full of hot come.

Namjoon, though, is a man that keeps his word. Jimin had asked not to stop, never to part. And so even when Jimin is a shaky, jerky mess on top of him, Namjoon merely holds him through it before pushing the smaller man a little higher, just enough for him to circle his tongue around Jimin’s pink, puckered hole. 

“I—” Jimin says, voice trembling. “T-told you to wait.”

As a response, Namjoon just hums against Jimin’s hole before wetting his entrance enough and plunging his tongue into his wet heat. 

Hands tighten around his hair, but Namjoon can only focus on the way Jimin tastes, the way his hole clenches around the stiffness of his tongue, and the warmth that envelopes him. He spears his tongue in and out, flicking occasionally every time Jimin clenches around him. 

Jimin is wobbly on top of him but isn’t protesting. Namjoon isn’t going to pretend like he isn’t enjoying the fact that Jimin is riding his face. God knows how much he’s had this very image burned in the back of his mind. He’s going to milk this as much as he can. 

Whimpers echo around the room and Namjoon decides that Jimin has come down from his high enough when he adds a finger alongside his tongue and begins to finger fuck him open. Namjoon hums when Jimin’s hole quivers around his tongue and his finger, the motion only pushing him to insert another. 

“Oh, shit.” Jimin wails, his hips moving back and forth on its own accord. “Oh, fuck!”

With his free hand, Namjoon spreads Jimin’s hole wider. He watches as the slicked-up puckered hole opens up for him before he’s slipping both fingers in and watching as they disappear into the younger. He curls his fingers at just the angle that can make Jimin’s breath hitch, and then does a beckoning motion. 

Jimin’s entire body convulses, Namjoon can feel his hair being pulled from the roots. But he isn’t going to be satisfied until he’s made good on his promise. At this point, Namjoon knows that even the sky falling won’t make him stop trying to make Jimin come as much as he can.

But hands are suddenly shoving at his shoulders and legs are suddenly kicking away, and Namjoon can only move as fast as his reflexes allow to keep Jimin from falling off the bed. 

“Careful!” Namjoon chides, just as when Jimin lands back sharply on Namjoon’s lap. “Are you hurt?” Namjoon cradles his face in his palms to inspect further, but Jimin only uses this opportunity to seal both their lips back together.

When Jimin pulls away, he laughs a little. “So I taste like that?” 

As if to appease Namjoon from worrying, he fusses over him. He cups his cheeks with both hands and thumbs away at spit. “You look like a mess.”

With both hands fisting at the fat of Jimin’s ass, Namjoon still reprimands, “Do not do that again, sarang. What if you had fallen?”

The pinks that rise up to Jimin’s cheeks are different from the pinks that have come from his high. He ducks his head, acknowledging his mistake. He looks up shyly at Namjoon, eyes darting from him to the nightstand before letting his thoughts ultimately win. Jimin reaches over and takes the new box of condoms and an unopened travel-size lube from within the drawer. He takes a condom, rips it open, and begins rolling it down Namjoon’s cock. 

And what else can Namjoon do but let him? This is his love. 

“I just didn’t want to come again like that, babe.” Jimin says, voice small. He keeps rolling the condom until it reaches the base of Namjoon’s thick cock. And when it does, he gives it a little squeeze, fingers trailing up to the little pocket of air by the tip. 

He opens the bottle of lube next and pours some directly onto Namjoon’s cock. Without waiting, Jimin positions himself over Namjoon’s cock, hovering. “Don’t be mad anymore, okay?”

“I’m not.” Namjoon hisses the moment his tip touches Jimin’s opening. His hands tighten around Jimin’s waist. “I can never be mad at you.”

Jimin sinks slowly down, down, down. “Yeah?” His voice is more air than vocals. “Then kiss me already and help me out. You’re so big.”

Namjoon kisses the corner of his lips and massages the small of Jimin’s back, thumbing at the tense muscles there and guiding his hips as he makes his descent. Once Jimin is seated fully on Namjoon’s cock, he lets out a groan, head thrown back. Namjoon gives his chin a kiss, fluttering his lips across his jaw when he whispers, “Alright, love?”

“Mm.” Jimin mumbles, staying still for a moment.

Namjoon watches him like that: legs spread open, half-hard cock resting on Namjoon’s belly, head tilted back, golden hair spraying everywhere, shoulders pink and dotted with sweat, hole clamping tightly around what little of his cock he can see shoved deep inside him. 

They haven’t even started yet and Namjoon knows that he is bursting at the seams.

Jimin places his hands on Namjoon’s thighs, lifting himself up only for him to land sharply down with a loud slap . Jimin grunts, eyebrows meeting together as he rises again only to fall, each time landing with the sound of skin slapping skin.

Namjoon tries his best to keep still, holding onto the other’s waist tightly and telling himself ‘no’ when he gets the urge to thrust up into Jimin’s quivering heat. He can tell that Jimin is adjusting to his size, what with the way he tightens around his cock each time Namjoon’s cock disappears fully into him. 

He is mesmerized more than anything, brain completely fogged over with both the visuals and the sensations crawling up his spine. He can’t pick what to focus on more: Jimin fucking himself open on his cock and moaning unabashedly each time his stomach bulges a little, or the fact that he feels immaculate inside.

Jimin drops his knees to the mattress and reaches for Namjoon’s shoulders, wrapping both arms securely around his neck. Jimin doesn’t stop moving when he presses his forehead to Namjoon’s and asks, “Kiss me?”

Namjoon cushions his lips with his, giving him small kitten licks as if to reward him for a job well done. Jimin’s circling hips are telling him that he’s been trying to find his own sweet spot, each time only grazing it but never fully pressing onto it. Namjoon holds back, their night is young after all. 

Jimin moans the moment their tongues connect. He grinds his hips, changing the angle and cries out in between tangled tongues. His arms tighten around Namjoon as he speeds up his movements, Jimin’s entire body warming up at the change in tempo.

“Baby.” Jimin murmurs. “My baby, am I making you feel good?”

Something in Namjoon snaps at that. One moment he can feel his heart racing, the next he’s pushing Jimin down onto the mattress and watching as his eyes widen the moment Namjoon is holding his legs open and is thrusting right in. 

“Ha—!” Jimin exclaims, hands balling into the sheets as Namjoon’s hips begin to have a life of their own and is suddenly pistoning in and out of him. Jimin holds his eyes, his little, pink face completely ruined, as his lips hang open for each moan that is punched right out of him every time Namjoon shoves inside. 

Namjoon places Jimin’s legs on his shoulders and gives his calf a kiss. He inhales, eyes trained on Jimin when he says, “Good? You feel great, love.”

Jimin laughs, the tired kind. “Good,” he half chuckles, half groans. “That’s good.”

He drives his hips forward, connecting hips to the back of thighs each time. Jimin is squeezing around him so tight, his legs quivering each time Namjoon drives in deep. There’s a small pool of tears by the corner of his eyes, but the way that Jimin is looking up at him is making Namjoon want to ravage him even further.

Break me, is what his face is saying. Eat me up alive. I beg, I beg.

Namjoon kisses his calf, pace never faltering as he licks around the skin and seals his lips and leaves a mark. 

Jimin hiccups. He reaches out with both arms, face wanting. “Hold me.”

Namjoon drops his legs gently onto the bed and crashes right into his arms. He tucks Jimin into the crook of his neck, arms locked tightly as he rams his hips forward. His hips are moving on their own accord now, pleasure zipping through every vein and every nerve and the nails digging into his back is just fuel to this already raging fire.

A long drawn out moan is his only warning. He feels it when Jimin’s body tightens underneath him, and then all of a sudden, like something bursting, his entire body shudders and Namjoon feels the unmistakable sticky wetness of come pouring right in between them.

Namjoon slows down and begins to lighten his hold on Jimin, pulling himself up a little. But Jimin fastens his arms around Namjoon and locks him right in, shaking his head and refusing to let go. 

“No, no.” He sobs. “No, don’t stop. You promised.”

“I wasn’t.” Namjoon quickly appeases him with kisses. He kisses the tear streaks running down the side of his face, he kisses his cheek, his nose. “I was just giving my love a kiss.”

Legs fasten tightly around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back in an attempt to  make Namjoon begin moving again. He does. Jimin breathes through it, mumbling incoherently as he tilts his face to receive more kisses. 

How will Namjoon ever stop now?

✮⋆˙

“The sun is rising.”

He laves his tongue over the bruised, reddened skin of Jimin’s throat. “Is it?”

The words ‘Should we stop? Are you satisfied enough?’ are on the tip of his tongue, but with how long they’ve been fucking, Namjoon knows too well not to ask.

Their lovemaking is less crazed and more languid. There’s more lips pressing on lips and tongue licking against tongue than skin slapping on skin. There’s less pounding, more grinding. More lazy up, down movements than actively trying to seek out friction in a race to come.

“Mm.” Jimin props his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. His hips continue their rhythmic grinding, thigh muscles going taut with every movement. Namjoon runs his hands from his thighs to his back, pulling the duvet they had carried from the bed to the nook up and over Jimin’s waist to keep him warm. “It looks pretty.”

Namjoon thrusts up shallowly, meeting Jimin’s hips. He kisses along his throat and licks around the shell of his ear, humming to let him know he’s heard him. 

“Come watch with me.” Jimin untangles his arms from around Namjoon’s shoulders and looks down at him. 

Namjoon puts a finger to his chin and pulls him closer for a kiss. “How do you want me to do that?”

Jimin climbs out of Namjoon’s lap and crawls to the center of the nook. He puts his arms by the back of it, face towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looks back at Namjoon, a hand coming around to open himself up as an invitation for Namjoon to connect back. “Like this. C’mere, baby.”

He obliges. What more can he do? He kneels behind the blond and lines his cock up against his hole. He trails kisses up Jimin’s spine when he enters, reaching his nape the moment he’s bottomed out. He nibbles on the shell of his ear. “Like this?”

“Exactly like this.” Jimin reaches over and backhandedly threads his fingers through Namjoon’s scalp, as if telling the older to press up tightly just like this. “Watch.”

Namjoon grinds into Jimin’s bruised prostate. He does as instructed, lifting his face and pressing cheek to cheek with Jimin as the sun rises, its rays mirroring off the glass facades of the surrounding buildings. 

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been going, but Namjoon feels more relaxed than tired. If his muscles feel sore, he doesn’t notice. 

“It’s beautiful.” Namjoon agrees. 

“Mm.” Jimin gives his cheek a kiss. He lets out a small moan and rests his head back against Namjoon. “It is.”

Jimin’s voice is hoarse, of course it would be. He sounds quieter too, only whispering and muttering, and moaning underneath his breath.

Namjoon can’t count the amount of time he’s come. If he was going to count the tied-up condoms littering the carpeted hotel floor, it wouldn’t be enough. They had already ran out of condoms a couple hours back and yet Jimin still didn’t want to part. 

“Let me feel you then,” Jimin had whispered, hands a vice grip on Namjoon’s wrists when he had insisted on buying more. “I want to feel you, baby. Let me.”

No surface had been spared too. It was on the bed, and then on the couch, and then on the table just because. It was on the armchair, and then the ottoman too. And now it’s on the nook because why not? 

Now Namjoon is confident he would know it was Jimin even with his eyes closed and his hands numbed. He would know him from the way he’d pace around the floor, the way he’d breathe across the room. Namjoon would like to think he had devoured him limb by limb, keeping him in his belly to warm, and never to part. He is a part of him, engraved so deeply into his system he will never get rid of him.

“Come rest your knees.” Namjoon maneuvers them so that Namjoon is seated back on the nook and Jimin is on his lap, back resting on his chest. 

Jimin hums, cock immediately getting swallowed up as he sits back tightly on Namjoon’s lap. He rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and lets the older pull his knees up, both feet resting on Namjoon’s knees. Namjoon does the thrusting, knowing that if he didn’t move, he’d upset the other.

He traces a finger over the couch patterns burned onto Jimin’s knees. “Does it hurt, my love?”

“Mm-mm.” Jimin shakes his head, reaching for Namjoon’s hands and tangling their fingers together. “You worry about me too much.”

He brings Jimin’s hand to his lips and peppers them with kisses too. He kisses across his knuckles, kisses his fingers, kisses down his wrist. And as if to show how pleased he is, Jimin clamps down around him and tightens up. Namjoon grunts at the movement and buries his face into the column of Jimin’s throat. 

Namjoon feels Jimin laugh, shoulders rising and falling. Fingers playfully tug at his earlobes and a kiss is placed onto the back of Namjoon’s hand. 

They move in silence after that, the only thing filling the void is Jimin’s shallow breathing and his staccato of little breathy moans. Namjoon fucks slowly into him, drawing his cock out and driving in with the singular purpose of grazing against his prostate. Jimin folds his arms behind him, tugging softly at the hair at the back of Namjoon’s scalp. He angles his face better, just enough to draw Namjoon in for a kiss. 

Namjoon lets his hands roam, hands coming up from the other’s abdomen to his chest and letting fingers flick at an erect, sensitive nipple. With his other hand, he reaches for Jimin’s cock. He holds it lightly in his hands, pumping him unhurriedly. 

Jimin’s lips flutter against Namjoon’s when he sighs, “I don’t want to go.”

Namjoon hears his own voice rumble when he replies with, “And I want to tell you not to go.”

Despite his cock pulsing in Namjoon’s palm and the subsequent come beginning to dribble out and down his hand, he can feel Jimin’s body deflate. Deflate in a different sense, almost like his inner turmoil is making him close in on his already small body. Namjoon kisses him through it, refusing to unknot from him until he comes down from his high. 

The moment Jimin does, he gets up from Namjoon’s cock only for him to face the other way and sit on his lap again, sliding right back down on Namjoon as if there is no other right way to sit. Jimin’s face is more devastating now that the sunlight is catching on the slope of his lashes, especially now when he’s bringing Namjoon’s come-covered hand up to his lips and is beginning to lick him clean. 

With his lips around Namjoon’s digits, Jimin repeats with a shake of his head, “I don't want to go.”

Then don’t, Namjoon wants to say. He thumbs at Jimin’s spit-slick bottom lip. “We’ll find each other.”

“When?” Jimin pouts. 

With a chuckle, Namjoon pulls Jimin closer and cradles him in his arms. “Soon. Right after. Immediately. Now.”

“How ‘bout this.” Jimin palms at Namjoon’s peck and, with his forefinger, circles one nipple beneath a fingertip. “Let’s say where we’re both going after this in the count of three. If we’re going to the same place, this is it. Us.” 

Namjoon just stays quiet, unsure how to feel about this, but does let Jimin begin his countdown. 

“Three,” Jimin breathes. “Two—”

Namjoon kisses him before he can say ‘One.’ Jimin gasps into the kiss, but lets himself be swallowed in. 

This, them, this is something he wants to forge on his own. He will not let chance dictate if they are together or not after this trip, after this make-believe world they’ve built. Especially not after knowing that none of this was make-believe in the end. When they part, Namjoon says, “I am not leaving us in fate’s hands. I refuse.”

Jimin just blinks at him quietly, eyes dazed. 

✮⋆˙

The elevator doors close and both their reflections stare back at them. Namjoon watches as Jimin’s reflection draws nearer to his, side pressing against side until eventually arms link up together and Jimin is resting his blond head on Namjoon’s broad shoulder. 

The air is sad, that much he knows. They had decided not to tell each other where they were going afterwards—be it back home or elsewhere. Jimin had been traveling for half a year and Namjoon wouldn’t want to disrupt whatever plan he had out for himself.

But he will find him. Eventually, ultimately, definitely. When he is done seeing the world, Namjoon will be there to open up the door with a smile on his face. 

Fuck destiny, he thinks. He will bend the earth and the skies together if that is what it will take to get them back together. 

The elevator pings and the mechanical doors part and so does their tangled reflection on its mirrored surface. Namjoon kisses the top of Jimin’s head and holds his hands as they exit the contraption and out into the waiting car. 

“Mr. Kim, Mr. Kim.” The waitstaff bows at both of them, opening the car door. “Thank you for patronising us during your stay in the city. Have a safe flight.”

Namjoon puts a hand over the car roof as he lets Jimin in first. Once he’s fully in, he smiles at the waitstaff, thanks him, and slides right beside him. 

Jimin is quick to coil around him, arms going around arms and legs strewn over legs. He props his chin up on Namjoon’s shoulder, his sad little pout on full display for Namjoon to kiss away. 

I don’t want to go, Jimin had repeatedly said as they were packing. But they both know that their flights are nearing and it’s a flight that they will both have to catch.

Now, as he looks at the sad look in the younger’s eyes, he wants to be the one to say ‘I don’t want to go,’ but instead Namjoon thumbs at his bottom lip and leans his forehead against his. Jimin presses up close, his small hands balling at the hem of Namjoon’s sleeve. 

Namjoon kisses him softly, hand cupping his cheek and keeping Jimin in place. The younger doesn’t seem to want to part and frankly neither does he. So when Jimin gives his bottom lip a little lick, he opens up for him immediately. He pays the driver no mind, all he wants at the moment is to keep this small pocket of infinity as long as he is allowed to hold it. 

The way that Jimin kisses is delicate, too. Almost as if he is holding a hand over a dying flame or cupping his hands together to warm a baby chick. There is melancholy written all over his tongue and Namjoon knows it too well because he has it written on his too. And he gobbles that up, scarfs it down, and ingests it whole. It is something that Jimin is giving him, and like a greedy man, he will take anything that he is given.

“I don’t want to go,” Jimin murmurs. 

‘Then don’t,’ Namjoon wants to tell him. But instead he smiles and merely presses their lips together. 

Namjoon wants to stay there forever, crammed in the backseat with Jimin to hold. But suddenly they’re at the airport, luggage in hand, a massive backpack strapped to the back, and hands clasped tightly together. 

“We don’t have to let go yet.” Jimin exhales, whispering these words as if afraid that others might hear. 

Namjoon squeezes his hand. “Yes, nae sarang. Of course. ”

They can let go only if they have to, once their boarding gates diverge. Until then, they can hold hands. This, they can do. 

People walk past them, hurried footsteps, and hunkering baggages. The crowd disperses and then gathers, but eventually all others gravitate towards their gates and past immigration, only Namjoon and Jimin remain motionless in a place where movement is a necessity. 

The hand in Namjoon’s is beginning to clam up. He can feel the little tremors within Jimin’s palm and he tries to squeeze his hand in an attempt to placate. But when Namjoon brushes a thumb gently over the back of Jimin’s hand, the younger looks sideways at him and Namjoon sees the unmistakable mirrorball of tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. Namjoon takes his pink nose in, his scrunched up brows, and without a second thought, he pulls at Jimin’s wrist and brings him into his arms—monumental backpack and all.

He rocks him in his arms and presses his lips to the side of his golden head. Namjoon can hear the little sniffles, can feel fingers tighten around the fabric of his dress-shirt. 

Can five days together really bring on a reaction this strong?

Namjoon tries to laugh it off, but even he can tell how strained his voice is as it passes the tightness in his lungs. He tries to clear his throat, he tries to take a big inhale for both of them. But all Namjoon can do is wrap Jimin tightly in his arms and wish that he can lock him into the makeshift cage that is his ribcage. 

He lets his lips glide against the shell of Jimin’s pink ears when he whispers,  “Let me walk you to your gate.”

Jimin looks up at that, teardrops caught in long eyelashes. He just blinks at Namjoon and sniffles. Namjoon thumbs at his tears, fingers lingering and moving slower than necessary. He gives his forehead a soft kiss and murmurs, “Okay, love? I’ll walk you to your gate.”

Jimin gives him a little nod. Namjoon smiles at him and takes the enormous backpack off of Jimin’s back, slinging it over his own. This is probably the most quiet Jimin has ever been on their trip. He has his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, brows knitted together. 

Namjoon stoops down and places a finger underneath Jimin’s chin, tipping him up to give him a kiss. Jimin sniffles when their lips meet and Namjoon can’t help chuckling at the sound of it. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” Jimin pouts at him. He wipes the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand. 

Namjoon kisses the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. “I would never.”

Three more sniffles later, Jimin is rubbing the back of his hand to the corner of his eye and is holding tightly onto Namjoon with the other. Namjoon follows him, matching the younger’s intentionally slow pace as they take one step closer to where they are meant to part. 

Each step Namjoon takes, his mind tries to keep up with his heart. He knows he has to let go of these hands soon, but Namjoon simply cannot fathom going on without. His heart is racing, that much he knows, but his mind has gone blank.

A yank to his fingers is what makes him come to. Jimin is stopping in his tracks and is facing Namjoon, the looming boarding gate behind him. 

The blond is looking at him in a way so open that Namjoon can physically see his heart shattering into a hundred million pieces. His eyes are red beyond compare and the way he is pink to the tips of his ears are different from his usual gleeful glow. How can a person be the very definition of heartbreak? 

Jimin glances back at the gate and Namjoon can physically see the hesitation bear down on his shoulders. The look on Jimin’s face as he turns back to look at Namjoon is a tragedy on its own and Namjoon decides then and there that he never wants to see his little love look so devastated. 

Peach colored lips part for his little tongue to lick at his bottom lip. Namjoon can see him wavering, a storm clearly brewing in the blacks of his irises. “...Hyung—”

For once, Namjoon decides to listen to his heart. No thoughts are coming to mind, anyway, might as well listen to the one thing banging against the shell of his chest. 

Namjoon laces his fingers tightly with Jimin’s. He doesn’t let Jimin finish, Namjoon thinks he doesn’t have to. Not when he knows where he would rather be. So Namjoon doesn’t look back as he begins charging straight for the gates, pulling Jimin along with him. 

“Hyung?” Jimin calls out, his voice laced with panic. Hesitation so clear in the way he tries to pull Namjoon by with both hands. “Hyung— babe! Hold on! Please, baby—I’m not—!”

Namjoon turns around then, a smile on his face. “Let me go with you.” 

He watches as Jimin’s lips part, eyes going impossibly wide. Namjoon can feel his heart lighten in his chest, the tempest in his chest coming into a dull thump. 

Namjoon holds Jimin’s hands in his tightly, pulling him along. “Alright, my love? I will come with you.”