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effortandmore · 8 hours

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Okay I read this a few days ago and then I just needed time to think 😭

I love angsty namjoon and you write him so well even through text it’s just so… 🫠 like he’s such a mess (affectionate) and that’s canon and this is perfect. Another absolute W for you, friend - thanks for writing this and sharing it with us!

come back to earth | knj

→ summary: my regrets look just like texts i shouldn’t send

→ pairing: knj x ex!reader → warnings: angst; smoking cigarettes; drinking; implied exes-to-lovers; namjoon being down horrendous. the idea is that these are (mostly) drafted and unsent texts. some of the texts are incomplete, implying that namjoon never finished writing them. it could be canon-compliant but i can’t keep track of dates so my b. → word count: 1.4k → notes: this is mac miller’s fault. blame him (rest in peace king)

→ listened to: come back to earth - mac miller

my blog is 18+ only. minors DNI.

—

[saturday, april 16, 2022]

you said we'd go see the cherry blossoms together. you promised, and now the cherry blossoms are withering and dying and sticking to the bottom of my shoes, and you're not here to pick them off like you said you would.

[monday, april 25, 2022]

maybe i shouldn't text you. does it matter if i did? don't you have my number blocked?

i’m outside, taking a smoke break. still think about you sometimes. know how much you hated me smoking. swear i can still hear you whenever i light up

[friday, june 17, 2022]

doing so good, baby. i wish you were here to see me.

[thursday, july 7, 2022]

summer. went to get ice cream from cu like we used to. didn't taste the same.

[tuesday, july 19, 2022]

hyung and i went to the park last night. the same one where we used to practice dancing until our heels bled, scream until our throats went raw. it reminded me of that night under the stars. when i wiped melona off your chin, and you kissed me like it was nothing. i was dizzy on the taste of you for days.

it meant a lot to me, you know. to be kissed so casually. i thought maybe i could understand what all those love poems are about. you made me want to write about sunlight, and hands tangled under a blanket, and a strand of your hair on my jacket. you made me see a lot of things i'd never seen before.

fuck, i miss you so ba

[sunday, october 16, 2022]

it'll be six months soon. half a year.

i saw you post about halloween. you looked like you were having so much fun. i hate that it's without me.

i hope you're safe.

[saturday, october 29, 2022]

something about the weekend...

i was reading 'in praise of love' yesterday. of course i thought about you. i find that i always do.

arthur rimbaud once said that love needs re-inventing. risk vs. planning; adventure vs. comfort. this is the bind that modern love is in.

i thought about framing our love that way. maybe there was too much risk; giving our hearts to each other when we knew how it would end. or maybe there wasn't enough; complacency, seeking our own comforts over each other's.

in the end, i decided it doesn't matter. the love died, didn't it? there isn't anything left to scrutinize. pick apart.

i think maybe that's the thing with me. everyone else has moved on, but i'm still here. re-reading. re-imagining. re-every fucking thing.

you were always light years ahead. never looking back. maybe that was our problem.

[monday, december 5, 2022]

i visited the MMCA today.

we used to love going there. or maybe i was the one who loved going there.

i think about that thing you said once, when we were at the ticketing counter. you said sometimes my interests loom so large that they subsume yours. like, what i wanted took up so much air that your wants never had enough to breathe.

i brushed it off, then. made a joke or something, i don't know. but you know these things stick with me. i carried that around for a long time. still do.

i never asked you which artist you liked best; i never asked you if you liked going to museums, period. i wonder if i just assumed i knew you, and so i never bothered to lear

[tuesday, december 6, 2022]

n about you. that was shitty of me, but it's too late for apologies. i know that more than anyone.

i know you liked kim kulim, though. that's one thing i think i'll remember forever. even if i wind up standing next to someone else.

[thursday, december 22, 2022]

it's the holidays. i still have the little charlie brown christmas tree you gave me this time last year. i wish i could throw it away.

[sunday, january 1, 2023]

happy new year. you’re doing well, aren’t you?

[tuesday, february 14, 2023]

happy valentine's day.

i don't know what to do with all of this want inside of me.

[monday, february 20, 2023]

please come over. be by my side again. i need y

[tuesday, march 7, 2023]

almost a year since you walked away from me, and every day i regret it more. i regret letting you get so sad that all you could do was leave; i regret not stopping you. everything with you is a series of regrets, and i'm the fool who can't seem to let go of them.

the one thing i'll never regret is lovin

[tuesday, march 14, 2023]

i'm so drunk. i never used to drink, but i'm drunk now. i heard 'killing me' by omar apollo and it made me want to drink because i would do anything to stop thinking about you, to stop dreaming about you, to break the surface and finally take a fucking breat

[wednesday, march 15, 2023]

happy birthday, baby

remember when? i think about that phrase so much, all it means. it means a shared history, a shared language made of the hours, months, years we spent together. it means something resurfaced in my mind that i think you'll want to hear, too. something we can relive together.

remember when. today i remembered the first time we celebrated your birthday. march is a good month. we talked about astrology, and how you're a pisces and i'm a virgo, and all that means for us. we took a walk in seoul forest. i ate miyeokguk with you while we watched broker. and then we went to bed, and i just remember thinking that if i were to live that day over and over again into eternity, i wouldn't mind.

i miss you. i miss getting to love you. i miss the little mole at your hairline and kissing you there. i miss making you laugh. i miss coming up behind you and holding you to me, feeling the outline of your body against mine. felt sweeter than anything. i even miss you resenting me, because at least then i knew you were thinking of me.

i miss being loved by

[wednesday, march 22, 2023]

how am i drowning in you when you're not even here?

[thursday, april 6, 2023]

come back to me, baby, i swear i'll make everything up to y

[saturday, april 22, 2023]

[Voice Note - 1:35]

i wrote this song for you. every song i write is for you. i know i'm sick, i'm abusing my reach, because in my darkest moments i think maybe you'll be forced to hear what i'm thinking, what i'm feeling. like maybe you'll hear me on the radio in a taxi, or in a shop, and then maybe you'll come back to me. my way of reaching you without ever contacting you.

selfish, again...

[sunday, april 23, 2023]

maybe i don't even know if i'd want you to come back. i don't know.

i finally read that poetry collection you kept telling me about. 'autobiography of death'? i don't think i understand it. but maybe i understand you a little more....

i wish i could love you again. i wish i had the right. i swear i'd do right by you this time. i swear i'd be different. i'd ask about everything. i'd give you everythi

[monday, may 15, 2023]

it feels like spring. it feels like something new is beginning. i've always chased that feeling.

[monday, may 29, 2023]

i should probably delete your number. i should probably stop writing texts that i'll never send. i should probably stop thinking about you, too, but i don't think i'll ever be able to do that.

because it's not just pressing a button, or changing a setting on my phone. if i want to stop thinking about you, it's a choice i'll have to make every single day. it's as hard as quitting smoking, but worse, because trying not to think about you is the same thing as thinking about you, and i'd give anything for a way out of my own hea

[Monday, May 29, 2023 — 1 new message from 🌸]

🌸: Namjoon-ah, it's me. I know it's been a long time. I've been thinking about you, and I was wondering if you wanted to talk. I know you're busy…. Let me know, okay?

#fic rec #knj

148 notes · View notes

effortandmore · 24 hours

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thank youuuuuuu! jopping exists only for you, as do i

they are able to be happy but… can they keep their jobs? stay tuned for the next installment of: lauren’s down for namjin so bad she has to write them a happy middle and a happy ending

love you, thanks for the support of me and this fic always 💜

caught looking: chapter 8 (knj x ksj)

summary: of course Seokjin has heard the rumors. most of them boil down to this: kim namjoon will get fired from the kiwoom heroes after this season is over. he’s the kbo’s youngest manager in history, one of korea’s darlings, always on every 30 under 30 list, and everyone is sure he’s about to tumble from the tower he’s built. or, namjoon is probably going to lose his job and seokjin is probably never going to make his dad proud, but they have a better shot at overcoming those two things together than they ever have alone.

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: e for everyone for now but there is adult content in later chapters so no minors pls

genre: etl, fluff, eventual smut

au: baseball, specifically the kbo

warnings/tags: idk... swearing, drinking, and general sports things? some blackmail kind of and discussions of homophobia in sports. a drunk ex being drunk and pushy. kissing! eventual smut of the gay variety.

wc: chapter: ~4800

chapter summary: seokjin tries to get his lips to touch namjoon's lips, and for once, he succeeds.

hello! here are chapters one two three four five six and seven if you'd like them. or the whole thing is on ao3 here . thank you! for the like.. three of you who read this here and not on ao3, i'm taking next week off cos i'll be at an art show, but i'll be back in 2 weeks :)

***

Because life is inherently unfair, Seokjin and Namjoon aren’t able to make it work to get together that weekend.

On their off day, Seokjin’s mother makes a surprise appearance in Seoul, all but forcing him to go shopping with her and to lunch and then more shopping. It’s fine, really, he has a good time. He actually likes spending time with her and likes shopping with her (he even spots a soft, green, cashmere scarf and buys it for Namjoon remembering the first time they hung out, telling his eomma it’s for a friend—it’s not exactly a lie), but he’d gotten a chat message from Namjoon that morning, asking if they could see each other, and he hated having to say no.

Then there were games all weekend, away games technically, but at Doosan, so there was no opportunity to be stuck together on a bus for hours and Seokjin didn’t even go. There was no benefit, he thought, to hanging around his former employer and thinking about how much less respect he got there than he does now. Add that to having to watch Namjoon manage a game without being able to talk to him or actually fucking kiss him already, it woudn’t have been worth it. So, instead, Seokjin holed up between his office and his apartment, plugging away on analyzing the last five seasons worth of player data ahead of the looming trade deadline.

Lost in data, he can focus. It’s nice to feel like he’s got a reason to focus on work as they enter the second half of the season. The acquisitions they’ve made so far under his guidance are helping; all the available information tells him they have a shot at the playoffs. Nothing’s ever one hundred percent certain in statistics, but some things feel pretty close, he tells Namjoon one night as they chat during Namjoon’s commute. What’s even better than that, though, is that Yoongi and his father believe him when he says it to them, in the way that the executives at Doosan never did.

So, he’s useful going into the trade deadline, and it feels good. If nothing else, it’s a welcome distraction from wanting to puke every time he sees Namjoon (even on TV), and it stops his thoughts from being all butterflies and rainbows and happily ever after.

He hasn’t seen much of Hoseok, either. After he’d basically walked in on them, he didn’t emerge from his room before Seokjin fell asleep, and then he’d left for work at some ungodly hour of the morning that Seokjin prefers not to see unless he hasn’t been to sleep yet. Then Seokjin was out, and the cycle went on like that for a couple of days.

Now, he’s sitting on their couch with his laptop open, and one of his gaming monitors on their coffee table. The aircon works better if they don’t hole themselves up in their rooms, letting it circulate freely, and it’s desperately hot in Seoul, so he’s trying out working from the living room to see how it goes.

Slowly, is the answer, because the game at Jamsil just ended, and his phone is already lighting up with notifications from Namjoon, Jeongguk, and also their newly established group chat: “Yoongi & 6 kids who won’t leave him alone.”

(He’s only mildly annoyed at being included in the “kids” even though he’s the oldest. Yoongi’s always been more responsible, or at least liked to think that he was.)

Hoseok barrels through the apartment door just as Seokjin is trying to think of something to send back to Namjoon that is both flirty and not entirely inappropriate.

“Why am I in your group chat?” Hoseok asks, before they even say hello to each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re sleeping with Jimin?” Seokjin asks at the same time.

“It’s new.”

“And you thought that not saying something when you knew I was having a complete crisis over Namjoon was helpful?”

“I tried to tell you, hyung. I told you I didn’t think they were together.”

Seokjin sighs. He’s not actually mad about it anyway, and who knows—he probably would have just assumed they had some sort of open relationship, anyway. He’s been… dense.

“Fine,” he says. “You’re forgiven.”

Hoseok laughs and flops down next to him on the couch. “Now, this group chat…”

“Jimin added you,” Seokjin shrugs.

“I think he likes me.”

“I think so, too.”

“What about you and Namjoon? Anything you want to tell me?” He pokes Seokjin in the side, over and over like Jeongguk would, but not as hard. It just tickles.

“I think he likes me, Hobi.”

Hoseok snorts. “Obviously.”

“You’ve barely even seen us together!” Seokjin protests.

“I’ve seen enough.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Anyway, no. Nothing’s happened. I think we were about to kiss when you came home the other night.”

“You think?”

“Well, he said ‘this is me about to kiss you,’ and asked if that was okay. I thought that was a pretty good sign.”

Hoseok cheers, in a way that’s quintessentially him, hollering and wiggling his whole body in excitement, slapping Seokjin as he goes. “And then what happened?” he asks excitedly.

“And then you came home, startled the shit out of both of us, we knocked our heads together and I spilled whisky all over myself. The near-concussion I gave him may have killed the moment.”

“Sorry, hyung.” But he’s barely able to stop himself from laughing, so Seokjin doesn’t think he’s actually very sorry. “Did you make plans to see him?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, I know he’s coming to Jimin’s dance thing next week, so there’s always that. If you don’t just want to see him at work and wait for him to bend you ove—”

Seokjin covers his ears and sings loudly, the most unsexy song he can think of, repeating the chorus of “Jopping” until Hoseok is doubled over laughing and definitely not talking anymore. Then he says, “I don’t want to talk about fucking at my job, Hobi.”

“Fine, but I think you want him to—”

“Don’t make me unfold all your laundry.”

“Fine, fine,” Hoseok puts his hands up in surrender and drops the subject finally, but not until Seokjin has pinky sworn to come to Jimin’s performance. It's not like it’s a bad idea, but Seokjin should probably not let himself think too hard about being with Namjoon in a dark theater, either.

Unfortunately, the next time he sees Namjoon isn’t in a dark theater, it’s later that week in a conference room at Gocheok, where Yoongi, Namjoon, Seokjin, Minjun, and several other members of the front office and coaching staff are gathered to review all the trade deadline proposals that Seokjin and his team have put together.

His presentation went relatively smoothly, even though he had to make a concerted effort not to notice Namjoon staring at him with a dopey grin on his face. Once, he made the mistake of looking in that direction, and he almost let himself return the look before he remembered that not only were they at work, but his dad was watching.

“So,” Minjun interjects as Yoongi and one of the bullpen coaches bicker about a Wiz reliever. “You want us to focus on relief work and speed?”

Seokjin nods. “I think that gives us the best shot at winning the championship, yes.”

Namjoon speaks up for the first time. “I agree. If we can get Roh from Hanwha and Park Byungho from KT to fill out the infield, we’ll have the highest average on base percentage in the league. And they both have solid wins above replacement.”

“And you also want the short reliever from Hanwha?”

“I do,” Seokjin confirms. “Kyuyeon-ssi is talented, the players love him, and he doesn’t give up the long ball. There haven't been any home runs hit against him in two seasons.”

“He pitches to contact.” Minjun sounds skeptical, Seokjin knows what that tone means because he’s been hearing it specifically directed at him since he was a preteen or before.

“So?” Namjoon interrupts. “Jeongguk does, too, and Seokjin was right about him. And that’s without optimal defense at first and third.”

“We may never hit a home run again,” one of the batting coaches complains.

Namjoon counters, his jaw set tight. “I’d rather win games than innings, wouldn’t you?”

Just when Seokjin thought Namjoon couldn’t be any hotter, he had to go and agree with him. It’s Seokjin’s achilles heel.

Minjun scoots his chair back and stands. Someday, Seokjin will know how he gets his suits to stay perfectly wrinkle-free despite the fact that he’s pretty sure his dad just sits all day most days. It’s a miracle of tailoring, he decides. “I trust your judgment,” he says, gesturing vaguely between Namjoon and Seokjin. He turns to Yoongi and they murmur in low voices about the budget, Minjun giving him caps for every position and a player count he’s willing to give up. While they talk, Namjoon meets Seokjin’s eyes across the table and gives him a smile and a relatively discreet thumbs up. It’s so cute, Seokjin could cry.

This time, since they’re not traveling and trying to get deals done in a hurry, Yoongi handles the business end like he’s supposed to. He’s better at it than Seokjin, doesn’t seem to get as nervous to cold call other teams for trades. Although, this time of year, they’re all expecting it, at least.

They file out of the conference room to leave Yoongi and his assistant to it, and Seokjin tries not to get excited when he realizes Namjoon is following him to his office.

“That went well,” Namjoon says when they get to the small room.

“Thank you,” Seokjin replies. He means it, too. It might be the first time his father has ever said he trusted words that came out of Seokjin’s mouth, and he suspects it might have something to do with Namjoon’s support. “Really, thank you for telling him you agreed with me.”

Namjoon nods. “You don’t need to thank me. I do agree with you. You haven’t made a bad call yet, so I don’t have any reason not to trust you.”

Seokjin feels seen, and in a way that only makes him a little bit uncomfortable. It’s what he wanted to hear for his whole career—the acknowledgement he was never going to get at Doosan, and at first didn’t think he would ever get from Namjoon, either.

“Anyway,” Namjoon continues, clearing his throat, “I was wondering if you have plans tonight?”

Another thing he wanted to hear and didn’t think he ever would. Everything’s coming up Kim Seokjin, he thinks.

“No, I—”

“Seokjin?”

He wonders if it’s possible for him and Namjoon to have a single conversation without being interrupted.

“Hello, sir,” Namjoon says as Minjun approaches, giving a polite bow.

“Seokjin, your mother wants us to have dinner together tonight. Are you free?”

It has to be some kind of joke. He’s a nice person, he treats his dongsaengs and he calls his grandmother and he brushes his teeth twice a day, and still, the universe is conspiring to keep his lips off of Namjoon’s lips.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Seokjin-ssi,” Namjoon says, all politeness in front of Minjun.

“Talk to you tomorrow Namjoon-ah.” He’s not sure if he sounds as disappointed as he feels, he’s not sure if it’s possible.

Dinner goes as expected. According to his mother, Seokjin should find a nice boy to settle down with, he should think about getting his PhD, he should exercise more and stop playing those “silly children’s games.” It takes everything in him not to tell his parents that what they should do is mind their own business for a change.

Over the next couple of days, he and Namjoon exchange messages, mostly mutual complaints about being cosmically separated since the team went for two at Samsung. Sometimes, Namjoon sends the occasional selca, too. They’re thirst traps with plausible deniability, mostly. They could just be thirst traps, or you could believe Namjoon when he claims to have no idea that his lips might do something to a person when they’re pushed out and pouty.

Finally, the Heroes are back in Seoul, Namjoon included, and it’s the night of Jimin’s dance performance. It’s very much not his scene, but Seokjin tries. He lets Hoseok dress him in tight jeans and a satin shirt, lets him brush Seokjin’s hair off his forehead, and even lets him pick out earrings for Seokjin to wear. There’s lip gloss involved. He feels awkward, but Hoseok tells him he looks good, and a brief glance in the mirror confirms it.

“You seem nervous, hyung.”

“It’s the first time I’m going to see him outside of work since we—”

“Almost became lovers,” Hoseok says.

Seokjin swats his shoulder. “Shut up, you sound like Jimin. You’re spending too much time together.”

“Well,” Hoseok shrugs, “he sounds like Taehyung.”

“I don’t know how that’s any better.”

Hoseok considers that. “Actually, me either.”

The theater looks small on the outside, in an artsy part of the city, between a bookstore and a record store, an art gallery above it. Inside, it’s much larger than Seokjin had thought, and everything is modern looking and far too cool for someone who prefers to spend his time at home, and in pajamas.

And then he sees Namjoon, leaning against a table by the bar, looking painfully handsome in his dress clothes, and he thinks that maybe there’s something to be said for going out every once in a while. There’s a large bouquet of flowers laying on the table in front of him, and even though Seokjin knows they’re for Jimin and not for him, it all adds to the mental image of Namjoon being his gay teenage fantasy dream date. His adult one, too, if he’s being honest.

“Hi, hyung,” Namjoon says as they approach him. “You look…” his eyes dart to Hoseok and then back to Seokjin. “Hot. You look hot. Is that okay?”

Hoseok barely keeps his laughter in.

“That’s okay.” It’s more than okay, it’s in the ballpark of things he’s wanted to hear come out of Namjoon’s mouth since almost the moment they met.

(Not quite that moment, because Namjoon was being a massive jerk that night, but maybe by the second time they met when Seokjin saw him in the weight room, shirtless. Definitely that time even though he was still being a jerk.)

“See,” Hoseok says, “you should thank me.”

His comment is directed at Seokjin, but Namjoon smiles and replies, “Did hyung really need any help to be the most handsome guy in the room?”

Seokjin squeaks and turns away. He knows he’s handsome, he’s confident, but he’s not used to people talking about him like he’s not there and having it be so complimentary.

“You two were bad before with your heart eyes and your stupidity, but now you’re going to be unbearable, aren’t you?”

“I hope so,” Namjoon says, still smirking at Seokjin. “Should we go find our seats?”

They do, after they grab drinks, and Seokjin finds himself about eight rows back sandwiched between Hoseok and Namjoon. They speak casually to each other over him, and Seokjin thinks it's nice that they’re finally having some time to get to know each other. Hoseok is one of the most important people in his life, and Namjoon… Well, Namjoon certainly has the potential to be that, too.

He likes the easy way Namjoon gets along with people, and feels like he should be surprised by it given their initial interactions. But now, he gets the Namjoon he’s come to know since then: kind, a little silly, incredibly smart, and attentive. It makes sense now, Seokjin thinks, that he’s so well liked and respected around the KBO, and it makes sense that those qualities would be even more pronounced in his private life, around people he chooses to spend time with.

They’re a good complement to each other, perhaps. Seokjin is also a little silly, but usually as a way to divert attention from himself. He’s an introvert to Namjoon’s extrovert, he’s more organized, and thinks a little more linearly. He lets himself picture a future where maybe he can help keep Namjoon grounded and Namjoon can help him come out of his shell sometimes.

He doesn’t even realize he’s daydreaming when a hand slips over his. The theater has gone dark, the curtains are just about to rise, and Namjoon mouths, “Is this okay?” gesturing toward the arm rest. Seokjin nods as the music comes up and slides his fingers in between Namjoon’s. They fit well, just like in his daydream.

Turns out, Jimin maybe undersold his dancing hobby. He’s incredible, the group he dances with is incredible. Seokjin doesn’t know too much about dancing, but he knows that there’s no chance he could ever move his body the way that they do, not even with years of training.

The lights come up as the show comes to an end, and next to him, Hoseok looks like he’s had some sort of horny epiphany, and the flush on his cheeks makes both Namjoon and Seokjin snicker.

“I knew he was flexible, at least,” Hoseok says in a quiet voice, probably to himself, but it manages to send Seokjin into a fit of laughter.

“C’mon,” Namjoon says as he stands. “Let’s go congratulate Jimin—he told me where we could find him backstage.” He grabs the flowers that he’d stashed under his seat in one hand, and pulls Seokjin up with the other. When they’re both standing, he doesn’t let go, just slides their fingers back together and leads Seokjin down the theater aisle.

“Cute,” Hoseok whispers behind him, pointing at their joined hands.

Seokjin only nods, feeling a little overwhelmed.

Backstage, they find Jimin quickly—he’s with Taehyung and Jeongguk who explain sheepishly that they snuck in late because they’d been “held up” and it was “totally not sex-related because they work together.”

Then Taehyung seems to clock the fact that Namjoon is (still) holding Seokjin’s hand, and quickly backtracks. “Nevermind, it was absolutely sex-related.” Jeongguk groans and Jimin just giggles, telling them it’s fine, and he’s just glad they came. Which makes Jeongguk groan again and look like he would rather evaporate than experience more vague (and not so vague) talk about his sex life.

Namjoon untangles his hand from Seokjin’s and hands Jimin the large bouquet. Or, most of it anyway. What Seokjin hadn’t noticed earlier is that there were two bunches together. One large one of roses and some white frilly thing, and one small one: white daffodils and a spiky pink flower Seokjin thinks looks vaguely familiar.

“These are for you,” Namjoon says softly, handing the small pink and white bouquet to Seokjin while everyone is distracted oohing and aahing over Jimin.

“For me?” Seokjin takes them and peers at them. They’re perfect, but he has no idea why he deserved them.

“They’re your birth flowers,” Namjoon explains. “Yoongi told me when it was, so this one,” he points to the pink flower, “is your Korean birth flower, and the daffodils are your western one.”

“It’s beautiful,” Seokjin says, trying very hard not to look like he’s actually falling in love.

“Glad you think so. It’s cheesy, maybe?” Namjoon looks so nervous, it’s cute. “I looked it up, and the daffodil is for new beginnings, and the other one is for affection.”

Before Seokjin can say anything (which is fine, because he feels a little sputtery and speechless at the moment), Jimin interrupts. “Oh my god, this is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“But it’s happening to hyung,” Jeongguk says, confused.

“Shhh, Jeonggukie.” Taehyung puts his pointer finger against Jeongguk’s lips. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Seokjin is a little bewildered, and the moment definitely has passed thanks to his dongsaengs, but he tells Namjoon thank you anyway, and when he thinks everyone’s lost interest and their attention has been pulled elsewhere, he rises up on his toes and gives a barely there kiss to where Namjoon’s dimple appears.

They don’t get caught, but the way Namjoon’s eyes pop open in surprise would have made it worth it even if they had.

Eventually, Jimin shoos everyone out so he can get changed and promises to meet them at a restaurant a few blocks away for a late dinner.

Namjoon, unfortunately, makes apologies, saying he can’t stay because needs to follow up on some work. Sheepishly, he admits he could’ve done it earlier, but it took him visiting several flower shops to find dock for Seokjin, and he used up most of the day. He offers to walk with them to the restaurant at least, before he goes to the station.

They walk together quietly, a few steps behind Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin, who are apparently using the opportunity to get to know each other. Seokjin says a little prayer that the younger two aren’t doing anything to scare Hoseok off.

Finally, when they’re about a half a block from the restaurant, Namjoon speaks. “I really wish we could get some time together,” he says. “I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out.”

God, Seokjin is sorry about that, too. All he’s been thinking about for the last several days is getting his lips on Namjoon’s lips and maybe more. But, standing on the sidewalk of a busy street in a busy neighborhood isn’t exactly the kind of atmosphere he’d been looking for.

“You coming, hyungs?” Taehuyng calls from the door of the restaurant.

“I’ll be there in a second. Grab a table and I’ll be right there.”

“Have fun tonight,” Namjoon says to the group going inside. Then he brings his attention back to Seokjin. “I guess we finally have time together?” And like a mind reader, he adds, “It’s not how I pictured it.”

Seokjin just laughs and pulls him off the main street, ducking into an alley. “Is this better?” he asks, once they’re tucked in against the wall of an over-full looking bookstore, just out of sight of a street vendor selling hottoek and other fried treats.

“Actually, I take it back,” Namjoon says, tilting his head down to bring it closer to Seokjin’s.

“You don’t want to be alone anymore?”

Namjoon shakes his head and brings a hand up to Seokjin’s face, cradling his jaw. “No, not that, I just don’t care if it’s here or on the street or anywhere. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

And the summer evening is already warm, humidity just starting to mellow after the sunset, but Seokjin feels like he’s burning. “So, kiss me,” he whispers, face so close to Namjoon’s that their lips are already almost brushing.

It’s the sweetest thing when Namjoon finally does. He’s smiling into the kiss, and somehow that makes it more awkward and infinitely better. It’s soft and slow. Nothing demanding, no feeling that it’s a means to an end. They just kiss quietly under the streetlamp, surrounded by the smell of old books and sweet dough, and Seokjin thinks anywhere would be the perfect place to be kissed like this—like he’s something delicate.

He’s feeling lost in it, trying both to live in the moment and also commit the entire thing to memory so he can play it back on an infinite loop. Namjoon hums, pleased, right before he breaks the kiss, looking as dizzy and all slow motion foggy as Seokjin feels when he pulls back.

“I should go.”

Seokjin isn’t sure how words work anymore. “Okay,” he says, a little stunned.

“See you at the press conference tomorrow?”

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me after a kiss like that,” he teases.

Namjoon drops his head, shy, for a moment, and then he says. “So, you’ve been kissed like that before?”

Seokjin laughs loudly enough to get the attention of people waiting in line for food. “No,” he eventually replies. “No one’s ever kissed me like that.”

“Good.” Even smug looks good on Namjoon. It’s ridiculous. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung.”

And he backs down the alley with a wave, laughing when Seokjin reminds him to watch where he’s going. But he does, turning around and throwing a little wave over his shoulder. Seokjin isn’t sure how he’s supposed to sit through dinner after that, but he’s starving, so he makes his way to the restaurant anyway.

Jimin’s already there when he finds their table in the back.

“Oh, there he is,” Jimin says. “I thought maybe you’d never stop making out in the alley.”

Of course he saw them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers. He tries his best to sound nonchalant. Obviously, if it were just him and Hoseok at dinner, he’d spill his guts, and Hoseok would probably end up telling Jimin anyway, but it’s different to sit at a dinner table with your co-workers and tell them you might be in love with their boss. More complicated than Seokjin’s kiss-clouded brain wants to deal with.

“Sure, hyung. I must’ve been mistaken.”

“Must have,” he shrugs.

Luckily, Taehyung and Jeongguk seem to have stopped paying attention, and have moved on to arguing over who gets to grill the meat.

“Stop fighting. Hyung will do it,” Seokjin interjects, taking the scissors from Taehyung carefully.

After the pork is cooked, the conversation moves away from the subject of Seokjin, which he’s grateful for. It allows him to let his thoughts drift a while, of course always coming back to Namjoon. Hoseok catches him staring at the flowers, now on the table next to his plate.

“He really likes you,” Hoseok notes.

“I think maybe he does,” Seokjin agrees, not able to help the grin on his face.

“No shit,” Jimin says. “He hasn’t been able to shut up about you since you put him in his place on your first day. Ever since then it’s been, ‘Jiminie, he’s so hot,’ and ‘You should have heard him tell me to fuck off, I think I might have a new kink’. It’s been awful.”

Seokjin wants to melt into his seat—it’s mortifying and a little thrilling. Mortifying to again be the subject of Taehyung and Jeongguk’s giggles and thrilling to know that Namjoon has been feeling the same way as him this whole time.

“Don’t be shy, hyung. It’s romantic,” Jeongguk assures him. “I think you both deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you, Jeonggukie. That’s why you’re my favorite,” he jokes. “More pork for you,” he adds as he drops a few more pieces of meat on Jeongguk’s plate.

It starts an argument over who’s actually the favorite, which lasts until they’re done with dinner and into the station to catch trains home. Hoseok and Seokjin ride home quietly, both texting and checking social media.

When they get home, Hoseok pulls Seokjin into an unexpected hug. His hugs are unmatched—they’re tight but not stifling, warm, and you can almost feel the love coming out of him and into you. Seokjin loves them.

“What’s this for?” he asks into Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Nothing. I’m just happy for you.” Hoseok pulls back. “You’ve been so much happier lately. At Kiwoom, with Namjoon, being around Yoongi again… It’s just nice to see you happy like you deserve.”

There’s a reason Hoseok is his best friend.

They don’t sleep right away, Seokjin is still reeling a little and Hoseok wants details. He gets them, and then the conversation evolves into talk about Jimin and how things are going between him and Hoseok (incredibly well, apparently), Hoseok’s job, and how Jimin has convinced him to join him for dance classes once a week if he can get the time off. For as much as Seokjin seems happier to the people around him, Hoseok does, too.

Last year, they’d both hated their jobs, felt unlucky in love, and were sort of stuck. Now, things are turning around for both of them, and it just feels right. That this would happen for them together, at the same time.

Hoseok hums a song Seokjin recognizes from Jimin’s performance. How many times had he watched Jimin practice? Seokjin realizes he’s been so busy between work and worrying about Namjoon that he doesn’t really know how much time Hoseok and Jimin are spending together lately.

“Do you ever think about what might have happened if we’d gone to a different club that night, or if you hadn’t come with me?” Hoseok asks out of the blue.

He does sometimes, actually. Even though, in general, he’s not really an overthinker, he does sometimes wonder how things move behind the scenes to get people where they need to be at any given moment. Is it fate, design, choice, multiverses? He has no idea, but it’s fun to consider on the occasions when he's feeling introspective.

But tonight he’s just feeling content.

As he stands up, ready to head to bed, he gives the answer that he likes to think is the most truthful. “I think we all would have ended up exactly where we’re supposed to be no matter what,” he replies.

Hoseok grins. “I like that, hyung.”

#someone said something nice #fic: cl

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effortandmore · 2 days

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ITS SO COOL 😭😭😭

#knj #rpwp

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effortandmore · 2 days

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caught looking: chapter 8 (knj x ksj)

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: e for everyone for now but there is adult content in later chapters so no minors pls

genre: etl, fluff, eventual smut

au: baseball, specifically the kbo

wc: chapter: ~4800

chapter summary: seokjin tries to get his lips to touch namjoon's lips, and for once, he succeeds.

***

Because life is inherently unfair, Seokjin and Namjoon aren’t able to make it work to get together that weekend.

On their off day, Seokjin’s mother makes a surprise appearance in Seoul, all but forcing him to go shopping with her and to lunch and then more shopping. It’s fine, really, he has a good time. He actually likes spending time with her and likes shopping with her (he even spots a soft, green, cashmere scarf and buys it for Namjoon remembering the first time they hung out, telling his eomma it’s for a friend��it’s not exactly a lie), but he’d gotten a chat message from Namjoon that morning, asking if they could see each other, and he hated having to say no.