#catch of the century

[persphonesorchid]

Cupid’s On Holiday - KSJ

Summary: You don't get it, you're a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're smart, you're tidy, hell you'd give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend's competitive archery teammate is telling you he's Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You're not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove 'em.

Genres: Angel!Au | Fluff, angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers, humor.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, protected sex), Oc's a bit of a downer but hey! Aren't we all sometimes! If I missed anything, let me know!

Rating: Mature (Minors, please, go away.)

Word count: 17k

Masterlist

Notes: A little late, but I made it before Saturday! I really really hope you guys enjoy this!! My contribution to @raplinesmoon , @kithtaehyung and @joheunsaram 's Catch Of The Century Collab! It's been a bit of a struggle to write, so show it some love! Also, you won't understand what I mean yet, but emotions are valid and you should feel them. Thank you to THE LOMFL @xpeachesncream for beta'ing for me, Nikki I love you so so much! Thank you for being there when I screamed about this fic when lightening struck and hyping me up always. Ly babie ❤️❤️❤️

Don't forget to leave feedback guys!! I'll love to hear your thoughts ( or crazy emotional rambles) Enjoy!!

Serendipity was in full swing; music blasting so loud you can feel it in your chest. Fellow club goers crowding the dance floor in a wild flurry of limbs and ill-timed dancing. You can barely keep up with the conversation Yoongi and Jungkook are having, you’re not even sure how they’re hearing each other over the music.

Clubs typically aren’t your thing, not one for the deafening music or the people who never knew when they had too much to drink. Tonight, though, you made an exception, meeting a friend of a friend for a date you were excited to be on. You thank your lucky stars you had the foresight to grovel at Yoongi’s feet to come with you, lord knows you’d be making your grand escape through the club’s back door by now.

“I mean, it’s not that hard, right?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Dude. Grow up.”

You chuckle into your whiskey as Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving his hand to direct your attention back to him and not on the way Jungkook was snickering. The flashy strobe lights waving mindlessly in the club catch on the silver of Yoongi’s bracelet and he rights his leaning frame, propping an arm on the table between you both.

“All I’m saying is...” He thinks hard for a moment, tilting his head to squint at the ceiling. You could tell he’s gone above his limit tonight; the rosiness of his cheeks visible in the odd flashes of light. “Man up. When he gets back, tell him he’s an ass and we can go home.”

“You know she’d rather die.” Jungkook mutters, draining the end of his beer, adding the empty bottle to the rest that was steadily growing the longer you all sat there. “Too nice.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Yoongi says, brows furrowed as though he’s just heard the most distressing news in his life, “I’ll do it for you. I swear if I have to sit here and listen to that guy ramble on about himself any more I’ll actually walk out into the street and stand there.”

“I don’t find you funny.” You deadpan, kicking your foot against his shin. He only whines, reaching for your bottle of water instead of brandishing his silver tongue at you.

Yoongi takes a long drink, eyes scanning the crowd, “He’s taking a long time to get back from the bathroom.”

Jungkook lifts himself partly out of his seat – having more vantage with his height – and looks around too. “Fou-oh...”

“What?” You perk up, following Jungkook’s gaze, but you’re suddenly blocked by Yoongi, who you didn’t even see get up. He shifts every time you’d move to look around him. You open your mouth to protest, but Yoongi’s hands land firmly on your shoulders.

“How about we just go? It’s late.” The furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw tells a lot; he’s seen something you’d be better off not seeing at all and you simply agree. You take the hand that he offers, sliding out of the booth and Jungkook follows with a frown.

When you all get outside, Yoongi throws an arm over your shoulder, and you’re grateful for his warmth as the late night air nipped at your skin. You sigh, watching mist dance on your exhale, ducking your head a little to look at your feet. It’s quiet between you three, and you realize belatedly that you should’ve asked Hoseok to come too. He’s always good at distracting you.

Of course, you should have expected it to go this way. Another failed date that’s left you feeling worse than before, you think you’d might as well give up now, resign yourself to growing old and having fifty cats to keep you company. It’s been this way for a while, your last actual relationship being exactly three years and six months ago -- not that you’re counting or anything.

You stayed out of the dating scene for a while, focusing on yourself and being happy and content with who you are first before anything. Because that’s important, you can’t love someone else without loving yourself first. It was a good run anyway, until you became lonely and Yoongi’s dry humor and good cooking no longer sustained you.

You loved him, truly, but you missed the level of intimacy he couldn’t provide you with. Even though you loved when he made a big deal about cuddling and holding your hand – and frankly would rather shoot himself in the foot than say he liked that shit. You’re honestly considering making a pact with him to get married in the next ten years or something. You feel like that’s the only way to get out of whatever curse you’re under.

You don’t know if it’s you, or what. You’ve tried meeting new people, friends of friend’s, strangers from dating apps. Your dating life is quickly going down the drain.

“Hey, get out of there.” Yoongi taps his fingers against your temple, looking a little more sober now, even though his cheeks remain pink from the cold. He frowns at you, pulling you a little bit closer to his side, “Don’t think about it, okay?”

You can’t help it though, it’ll do no good in the long run, you know that. You’ve been feeling all sorts of low, and really you shouldn’t. You don’t need someone next to you to feel complete, to make you feel like the world’s finally spinning on the right axis. You just hate that you feel like you do; everyone around you seems to be happy and with someone and you’re here feeling like the hottest dumpster fire. You want to have rose tinted glasses to wear, too.

You wanted someone to hold hands with that wasn’t Yoongi or Jungkook...or Hoseok whenever he wasn’t working at the bar and using you as his wing-woman. You wanted someone to tell you you’re pretty and not mean it in a totally-best-friend way.

You sigh, long and drawn out, shoulders sagging as you watch the pavement pass by under your feet. The cracks in the gray stone representing the cracks in your love life that’s slowly drifting away like the ashes of the universe post Infinity Snap. Oh, you wished Thanos was actually here to snap you out of existence. You can deal with floating away into nothingness than dealing with the loneliness that’s beginning to cling to the edges of your form.

“How about we stop at the convenience store?” Jungkook suggests, linking his arm with yours, he looks down at you with a soft smile you couldn’t see. “Ramen on me?”

You can’t say no when you look up and catch his smile, dimples and all, and the three of you walk a little faster.

“Damn, everything’s just going up these days.” Yoongi grumbles, reading the label of a vitamin gummy bottle with a frown. You hum, reading your own set of labels listlessly a few feet away.

You’d long lost Jungkook somewhere in the depths of the large convenience store. He’d run off to find something and it’s been five minutes of you and Yoongi walking around and complaining about prices.

Yoongi puts the vitamins back on the shelf, twisting the container until the brand label faces him. You see him glance at you in your peripheral, see him walk a little closer until he stops at your side, “Doing okay?”

You think about it for a fraction of a second and shrug, throwing Yoongi a careless ‘Ok' sign, “Yeah, A-OK.”

You really just want to go home, watch a movie and forget tonight. Maybe you can convince Yoongi to watch that movie with you, and you both can share laughs over more beers and the pistachio flavored ice-cream that Yoongi hates.

The man himself doesn’t look convinced, and it shows in the raise of his eyebrow and the way he studies you. He’s always said you’re like an open book to him and he knows how to read the lines well – as much as you hate that – you appreciate that he says nothing of it.

You know it will come up later, not now while it’s still fresh, but when you least expect it. Yoongi purses his lips at you, shaking his head before tugging you along behind him as he walks on.

“Guys!” Jungkook's call comes from behind you both, and you and Yoongi turn to his approach, and the company he had with him.

The guy trailing behind Jungkook, for the sake of your mind that grinded to a halt at the sight of him, is beautiful. You don’t think you’ve called a man beautiful before, but there’s no other word that you can use. This man with his dark hair, eyes of the deepest brown, perfect plush pink lips and the widest set of shoulders you’ve ever seen.

You stand a little stunned, just staring at him until Yoongi nudges your arm and you realize that Jungkook is speaking. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, briefly, but you know he’s itching to grill you and you’ll never live it down.

“Guys, this is Seokjin.” Jungkook smiles, waving a hand at his friend, “He’s on the archery team.”

Seokjin bows his head in greeting, “Hello.”

“Jungkook talks about you a lot. It’s nice to put a face to the name.” Yoongi says as you struggle to come up with anything that won’t give away how nervous you suddenly felt.

“This is Yoongi, and Y/n.”

Yoongi nudges your side again and you smile, “Nice to meet you.”

There’s a twitch in his eyebrow as his eyes focus on yours, and for a moment it feels as though he’s looking right through you. He’s looking at you, but his eyes are so intense you feel like you’re under a microscope, or having one of those weird naked dreams and nothing to cover your shame.

It seemed like the moment stretched on for ages, and you’re stuck in a void being watched by someone you can’t see.

Seokjin's lips pull into a smile and when he blinks, you do too. There’s something strange about the air in between the space you occupied, something unfamiliar but at the same time not completely unknown. You’re not quite sure how to feel about it and you’re not sure if the shiver going down your spine was from the AC.

When he looks away from you to look at Jungkook, you lean over to take the basket from Jungkook’s lax fingers – it was filled with way more things than you’d all come in for - announcing that you’re going to check out.

You and Yoongi leave them both talking, walking back to the front of the convenience store where the cashiers were. You’re wondering about what that could’ve been, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip, brows furrowed in thought.

“You sure you’re good, right? You seemed a bit gone back there.” Yoongi asks, unloading the contents of Jungkook’s basket onto the counter, shaking his head as he picks up a packet of mint gum and places it with the things.. “Well, actually, you looked stupid – and I don’t mean that in the way it sounds. You just kinda...blanked. Like the second you saw him you went outta your head.”

“Huh...” You look back to where Jungkook and Seokjin are still talking, still feeling watched even though he wasn’t looking. “Kinda felt like it.”

When you finally left the convenience store, a light drizzle had started. Your apartment complex isn’t far, less than five minutes from where you are.

Seokjin had parted from your small group, getting into a fancy black car parked at the curb after bidding you all goodnight.

The walk was quiet until you’d all gotten home, with Jungkook waving a little frantically at his door a good way down the hall. Yoongi made no move to get into his apartment next to yours, watching you fumble with your keys.

“Not going in?” you mumble, looking over your shoulder to catch him waving his phone at you.

“Nah, I’m gonna meet Hobi.” He says, “Need me to stay with you?”

You shake your head. Sometimes you felt as though you treated Yoongi like your therapist, he’s always there to listen when you need to vent, always being the shoulder to cry on. Always a listening ear without complaint.

“I’m okay Yoongi. Promise.” You smile, lifting the plastic bag that Jungkook had so graciously provided you with. “I’m gonna eat my woes away.”

Yoongi sighs, “You know you can’t say you’re okay and then follow with that.”

He steps over to you and hugs you a little awkwardly, patting your back. You appreciate his effort to sacrifice his comfort, even as you laugh a bit. “Text me if you need anything and I’ll come back.”

Relaxing in his hold, you sigh, “D’You think it’s just me? I mea-”

“-No.” Yoongi cuts in, rubbing small, comforting circles against your back, “Men are dicks. It ain’t you, trust me.”

He leans away, hooking his pinkie into the handle of the bag and shakes it a bit, “Eat and get some sleep, okay? Don’t go thinking too much.”

You wait until he’s down the hall and out of your sight to head inside. Kicking your shoes off, you flick on the lights and drag your feet to your small kitchen. You dig through the bag in search of your ramen, finding the chocolate popsicles Jungkook bought you.

Maybe you should talk to Yoongi about that marriage plan of yours. Just so that you’d have something to fall back on, so that later down the road when you’re sixty you’d have grandkids running around and not a few cats instead.

There’s a loud banging on your door that jolts you out of your sleep the next morning. The blackout curtains you’d bought a couple weeks ago were working, you have no idea what time it is. You also have no idea when you’d gotten to bed either, you remember eating the ramen and one of the popsicles.

You remember hearing Yoongi come home, the opening and closing of his door and the clink of his keys against the little bowl with the cat on it that you gave him.

You don’t remember much else, you certainly don’t remember crawling into bed or changing your clothes for that matter.

You groan as the pounding continues, rattling into the empty hallways of your sleepy mind and knocking on every door. Rolling over you pull your pillow with you, covering your head and willing the noise to end. Squinting at the little blue clock on your nightstand and the numbers that squint back, you lay there wondering who’d be knocking on your door this early on a Saturday.

“Police! Open up! I’ve got a warrant.” Jungkook’s muffled, disembodied voice filters through your apartment and you sigh, kicking at your covers because you know if you don’t get up he’ll stand there and ring your phone until you pick up.

Grumbling to yourself, you drag your feet to your front door and open it. Jungkook’s standing there with one hand raised, looking ready to knock again and too bright eyed for the hour. His other hand balances a coffee holder with four cups and a large brown bag.

“Don’t you have practice to get to? It’s seven am.” you step aside to let him in, covering your yawn with a hand.

“Good morning to you, too.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, wiggling the brown bag at you – the brown bag that’s doing a great job of concealing its contents. “I brought breakfast.”

You’re moving to close the door when a hand stops the motion and Hoseok’s poking his head into your entrance hallway.

His eyes are bright, even though he’s not a morning person, and his smile is brighter when he sees you, as it always is. He pushes the door open as you step back to allow it, coming in to wrap his lanky arms around you. “Heard your night sucked ass.”

His fingers tangle in the mess that is your bed head, but he doesn’t let go of you even as he tries to free them. He rubs circles into your back, and sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You laugh into his sweatshirt, the old one he kept from college even though it’s fraying at the edges and the blue isn’t as blue anymore. The one you threw up on the night Yoongi lost you in a crowd of college freshmen and you didn’t know your ass from your elbow.

“Someone has to, you know?”

Yoongi’s the last to come through your open doorway, shutting the door behind him, looking like he’d barely slept, dark hair sticking up at odd angles.

He frowns at you both, “Guys, c’mon. You’re blocking the way.” He pushes lightly at Hoseok’s back, making him walk forward still clinging to you.

“You’re gonna make me trip!” You laugh, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. When you’re free of Hoseok’s cuddling, you trail after Yoongi and into the kitchen where Jungkook’s pulling carefully wrapped bagels out of the bag.

“What’s the catch, Jeon?” You ask, knowing that he should be on his way to practice right now. Not that you don’t trust the guy, it’s just that normally if Jungkook has practice, you won’t see him until it’s over and he’s back in the building.

“Can’t I just be nice and bring my best friend breakfast from her favorite cafe?”

“There’s always a catch.” Yoongi says as he plops down into a chair at your small kitchen table and Jungkook makes an offended sound at the back of his throat. Yoongi shrugs, pulling a coffee free from the holder and passes it to you.

“What do you need this time?” Taking the coffee from Yoongi, you take the seat next to him and Jungkook gives you one of the bagels.

“Can you drive me to practice today?”

Hoseok ruffles your hair as he passes, leaning around Jungkook to grab a coffee and a bagel for himself while Jungkook neatly folds the brown bag. “I’d take him but I gotta be at the studio in an hour...”

You hum waving a hand, “No worries.”

It’s ten am by the time you return back to your apartment. You’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up things you needed and had no choice but to lug all the bags up at once.

You would’ve liked to make trips, which you would usually do going up and down the elevator and getting weird looks from old Mrs Bailey two floors down. The elevator was once again getting serviced and you curse the stupid machine to the high heavens.

You take one step at a time, the weight of the bags digging uncomfortably into your fingers. You’re sure they’re red by now and you groan thinking about the way they’ll cramp up when you put the bags down.

“Need help?”

You almost drop your bags, body jerking in place as you stop to look behind you.

Seokjin is standing a few steps down on the platform between the flights, and you find it just a bit strange that you hadn’t heard him; footsteps echo in the stairwell. You don’t think much of it though; Yoongi walks like a cat and you can never tell when he’s behind you either.

You look down at the bags in your hands, giving Seokjin a light smile. “Yes please.”

He jogs up the remaining stairs to meet you, and you envy the bounce of his dark hair that falls perfectly back into place. He’s dressed more casually today, with a loose white tee-shirt tucked into black jeans. He gently takes the bags from one hand and reaches for the other.

“Oh, I’ve got these.” You chuckle the sound awkward to your own ears and you want the floor to open up and swallow you. Seokjin thankfully says nothing of it, though.

“Which floor are you on?”

“The one above us.”

“Oh really?” Seokjin smiles at you and waves his free hand, “Howdy neighbor.”

You blink at him, a little confused, “Huh?”

“I moved in this morning!” He’s already walking up and you step quickly to follow. “you know the apartment just before the staircase?”

“That’s great! It’s been empty for years. Hobi thinks it’s haunted because he says he keeps hearing noises.”

Seokjin laughs at that, the sound bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. His laugh’s kind of squeaky and it makes you laugh, too.

You both share a light conversation going up the last staircase, and it isn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. It’s certainly better than last night when you tripped over your tongue just to say hi back.

Seokjin’s presence is oddly calming. Despite being a stranger, it feels as though you’ve been friends for a while. He’s telling you about how he’s planning on decorating his apartment while walking to yours, and asking your opinion on paint colors.

“White always makes a room look bigger. Could be too plain though, if you’re not into that.” You say, fishing your keys from the pocket of your jeans. He places the bags at your feet when you asked him to, “Thank you,”

“No problem,” He gives a smile, a small one that puffs up his cheeks. “Well...I better get going...lots to do.”

“Of course! Bye then.”

“If I don’t see you around, I’ll see you square.” With a very serious expression, Seokjin shoots you some finger-guns before walking away, laughing at his own joke.

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you unlock your door.

You throw yourself on Yoongi’s couch, which by the way, was way bigger than yours and way more comfortable.

You groan into the throw pillow, smacking your hand against the cushions. “Yoongi. You traitor. Who’s hand am I supposed to hold now?”

“Hobi’s always available for hand holding.” Yoongi mumbles, barely paying you mind as he gets ready to go out on a date. A Date! How dare he.

“His hand doesn’t get sweaty like yours does!” You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the pillow, “This is absolute betrayal. I’ll never ever forgive you.”

“Quit being dramatic.” Yoongi sighs, fastening the clip of a silver chain around his neck. You pout at him from your spot. “It’s only the first date. If it falls through you’re welcome to hold my hand for the rest of our lives.”

Yoongi doesn’t date often, you honestly can’t remember the last time he even mentioned having one to begin with. You kinda feel bad about your whining, only because you feel bad that everyone’s suddenly finding significant others while you suffer.

“I’m joking.” You say, sitting up, “You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi smiles, all cute and gummy. “Now get out, I’m leaving.” He helps you up off the couch, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

“You’re so rude!” You trail after him anyway, following him out his apartment. As he locks his door you poke his side, “What’s her name anyway?”

“Justine.” He glances at you, “Jungkook didn’t tell you? She’s on his archery team.”

“You met her through that rascal?” You scoff, crossing your arms, “You guys never tell me anything. When did you even have time to meet them?”

“Hey, I do other things when I’m not hanging out with you.” He walks you to your door, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything. “I’ll call you if I need to make a run for it.”

“Just go!” You push at his arm, waving goodbye, “Let me know how it goes!”

Yoongi’s in the elevator when he finally waves back, and you stay standing there long after the metal doors shut. Staring at your door, you sigh, you’re happy for him, really. Everyone else shouldn’t suffer with you.

“Hello.”

You startle, a frightened screech leaving you as you turn. The person behind you yells, too, backing away from you with wide eyes.

You press a hand to your chest and take a deep breath, “Dude. My heart almost fell out of my ass. Why are you sneaking up on me?”

“Why’d you scream like that? You scared me!” Seokjin presses his back against the wall behind him, a hand against his chest also.

He relaxes, hands dropping at his sides, and you do the same, laughing a bit at the situation.

“Did you need something?” You ask, watching as he steps closer.

“Actually.” He puts a finger up, “I came to make you an offer you can’t possibly refuse.”

“Huh?”

Seokjin straightens his form, smiling again, “I can help you.”

You blink, looking off to the side before your eyes settle on him again, “....help me with?”

Seokjin looks a little confused now, brows furrowing and he puts his hands behind his back and chuckles. “Your problem.”

When you stare at him blankly he sighs, “I can help you find the one you’re destined for.”

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No. I’m not drunk. I’m being serious!” He says, shaking his head, “Why do I always have to do this? I hate this part.”

He’s talking to himself now, and you’re trying to slot your key into your lock without him noticing. Maybe he is drunk, or maybe he’s one of those salespeople who try to talk you into buying shady things.

He suddenly looks at you and you freeze, giving a slow, awkward smile. “Um. Whatever it is... I’m okay. You should go lie down or something.”

“I’m not drunk.” Seokjin repeats, “Your friend went out on a date right? I saw him on the way up.”

That’s weird. Yoongi only left a few minutes ago, if Seokjin took the stairs there’s no way he would’ve seen him.

“I can help you with that. Getting a date, I mean.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Not me, no.” He seems to think for a moment, “I’m actually the only person that can help you. I’m a Cupid. And it’s my job to steer you in the right direction so you can find that person.”

You laugh and he frowns, but what else are you supposed to do? He looks completely serious, and you wave a hand at him.

“Okay.” You say even though you don’t believe him, giving him a thumbs up, “That’s nice. I’m gonna go...and you can go lay down, okay?”

You turn quickly, opening your door and slipping inside. You leave him standing there, shutting the door behind you.

“...oh-kay...”

“I’m so tired.” You press your forehead against the cool wooden table. This isn’t really the way you’d like to spend your Monday afternoon, sitting in a café trying to finish up an article due next week.

The café you frequented is a bit crowded today, some either coming in to get their fix of hot drinks to battle the autumn chill outside, or either just taking in the scenery. There really isn’t much to take in, the cafe is a small hole in the wall on a street corner, with wet roads and people passing by outside.

There’s a park across the street that looks better in the spring, empty now that it’s getting colder and winter’s on the cusp.

You raise your head to stare at your half completed article. Cursor blinking mockingly against the white backdrop of the open word document. At least it’s due by next Friday, you have time to wallow in the writer’s block that’s been plaguing you for days now.

You stare out the window and sigh, watching the people and the cars pass by, watching the light rain that’s been doing nothing but falling all morning. You thought that getting out of your apartment would’ve been better, a change of scenery to help you finish your work. Now that you’re sitting in this crowded café, it’s difficult to concentrate, you don’t know how the college kids do it.

You’re quite bored by yourself, usually, your friend from work, Brinny would be with you. If you’re not working, you could at least pass the time with some gossip or some sort of stimulating conversation. Brinny had to be at the office today, and honestly didn’t have time to meet with you, so you’re stuck struggling alone.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head at the call of your name, the barista behind the counter is waving you over. “Your coffee’s ready.”

Getting up, you hobble over, reaching the counter to take your coffee. The barista smiles at you, closed lipped with dimples you want to sink your fingers into.

Namjoon was new, and you’re glad to see he’s getting the hang of things. You’ve seen the guy spill more coffee beans than he grinds and he’s burned himself so many times that you’ve been permanently worried.

You’ve also seen him staring, always when he thinks you’re not looking. You’ve had a few conversations with him on days when the cafe isn’t so busy, he’d always have some quote from a writer you’ve never heard of or he’d talk to you about art. He’s nice.

He’s cute. Even as he fumbles now to let you know that he put an extra shot of espresso in your coffee because you look tired.

You thank him with a sweet smile before going back to your seat, hoping to remember to leave him a tip.

You sit, squinting at the time displayed on the clock widget of your laptop screen, glancing over at Namjoon again who’s busy behind the counter. Maybe you should take matters into your own hands and just ask him out. Might lead somewhere, hell, you might even have a great time.

“I mean...”

Your head whips around to the person who’s suddenly sitting opposite you. Seokjin looks fashionable in a black coat over a white turtleneck sweater as he pulls a burgundy scarf from around his neck. He’s looking at Namjoon too, squinting at the man. “He’s nice and all but it won’t work out, trust me.”

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, still a little shocked because you didn’t see him approach, you didn’t even hear the chair move. He’s just there.

Seokjin chuckles deeply, the sound a far cry from his high laugh. He turns to look at you, “Me? No. I was just passing by and saw you. Thought I should say hi.”

“Hi. You can go now.”

“Wow.” Seokjin presses a hand to his chest, faux hurt morphing his features, “You wound me.”

“Seriously. Why are you here? Because it kinda looks like you’re stalking me.” You lean back into your chair, crossing your arms.

Seokjin tilts his head at you, expression serious as he simply stares. His eyes are intense, like the night you met him and you know that the shiver that runs through you isn’t from the cold; the café is warm.

“I’m honestly trying to help you.” He says after a while, expression unchanging.

“Right. ‘Cause you’re Cupid?”

“A Cupid. We are many.” He corrects you, putting a finger up. “Trust me, asking Namjoon out is gonna do more harm than it’s worth. Some things are just meant to happen in passing.”

You sigh harshly through your nose, closing down your laptop to stare at him without it in the way. “Listen.”

“You had a really great opportunity to say “Lend me your ear!”. I find that wording more effective in catching my attention, but I digress; speak away.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath as his laugh fills the silence between you. Funny, just Saturday morning you were thinking he was kind of cute with his stupid jokes and his finger-guns and his stupid laugh. Now he’s getting on your nerves and he’s beginning to give you the creeps with how persistent he is about this Cupid thing.

It's always the pretty ones.

“Okay, look.” You raise a hand because you can see he’s about to open his stupid mouth to say something even more stupid. He gives you his full attention, leaning in a bit like he’s waiting to hear the secret to DaVinci’s code. “Do you...perhaps have a psychiatrist I can call for you? Or a guardian?”

His expectant expression drops, he looks agitated now and you’ll take that as a small victory. “I’m not craz....” Trailing off, he slumps back into his seat, “I give up. Why do I always get stuck with the stubborn ones? I’m just trying to do my job.��

He’s talking to himself again, loud enough for you to hear him. He waves a hand at you, looking out the window petulantly, “Do as you wish. Ask him out. I’ll be swinging by to say ‘I told you so’ when it crashes and burns.”

“You know. You definitely can’t be Cupid with that attitude.”

“A Cupid. It’s not just me.” He huffs, sucking his teeth, “Why am I even still here talking to you?”

“I could ask you the same thing, really.”

Seokjin side eyes you, slowly turning his head in a way that you decided at that moment was quite unnatural. There’s something weird about the motion, he’s weird, and that’s all there is to it. He’s no Cupid, and honestly kind of curious about what made him think he was.

“Go for it then.” He waves a hand in Namjoon’s direction, “Don’t let me stop you.”

You feel petty, but you also feel the indescribable need to prove him wrong, so you get up, chair scraping against the floor. “Fine. Watch me.”

Seokjin gives you an unimpressed look, sighing as though you’re the one making his life difficult.

You march your way over to the counter, now that the rush died down, Namjoon’s just sitting idly in a corner, phone in hand. He looks up at your approach, smiling sweetly.

“Hey, need something?” He asks, getting up from the chair he occupied to meet you at the counter.

“Um..” Abort. Abort! Namjoon is looking at you patiently, waiting as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands on your jeans. You take a breath, “Are you free on Friday?”

“Huh? Y-yeah. I could be?” He looks just as nervous as you do, another small victory; you’re not alone! “Why?”

“I was thinking that maybe we can get a drink? If you’re okay with it?”

“Oh! Yeah. I’d like that, yeah. Let me just... I’ll write my number down for you.” Smiling, he goes around to the other end of the counter, looking for a paper to write on before giving up and grabbing a napkin.

You turn, ready to rub your pettiness into Seokjin’s face but he’s gone. And so is your coffee.

“Dude I mean...are you sure?” Yoongi looks skeptical, raising a dark brow at you as he wipes down a table. He settles chairs into their rightful spots, stuffing napkins into the fancy napkin holders. “Last week you were literally ready to cry over a failed date and you asked a guy out?”

“I was not.” You say, “Water on a duck’s back my friend. This guy’s actually nice, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t go off with some other chick halfway through our date.”

“Well, I thought that you’d just give it a bit of time before going again.” He pauses to look at you, halfway across the empty bar, folding the cloth he was using. “I know you want what everyone else seems to be getting – I’ve noticed it too, lots of couples running around like it’s valentines or something. But I think you should just wait it out.”

“Yoongi.” You whine his name, laying your head against your arm. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“I know.” Yoongi smiles at the offended sound you make, “Everything happens on its own time, sweetheart. Just gotta be patient. Wait a little.”

“But what if I just wait forever?” You mumble, picking at the skin around your fingernails.

“I didn’t say it for you to get sad, you know.” Yoongi walks over to you, he smiles gently, “If you wait forever then I’ll meet you at the end. You can hold my hand while we wait together..” He offers his hand to you, wiggling his fingers.

You give a watery laugh, taking his hand with a sniffle, “That was so corny.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

When seven pm rolls around you’re sitting at the bar, sipping on a rum coke that Yoongi gave you to calm your nerves.

The bar’s a little quiet, but you know that it’ll get rowdier as the hours go on. Yoongi’s sitting opposite you, picking at his nails in his boredom.

“I hope tonight doesn’t get busy. Hobi couldn’t come out cause he has some dance things to finalize...”

“It’s Friday, though...” You point to the door with a tilt of your head as a group walks in. Looking fresh out of the office in their business suits and briefcases. Yoongi sighs, hopping off his stool to go greet them.

You spot Namjoon coming through the door next, pulling headphones out his ears and smiling when he sees you. He reaches you in a few long strides, sitting next to you with a soft greeting.

You catch Yoongi’s double take, and the raise of his eyebrows but think nothing of it.

In the hour that goes by, the bar picks up and Yoongi has company behind the counter. Namjoon has you giggling and blushing every time he looks at you, you’d like to think this is going well.

You do the normal routine, getting to know each other, trading jokes. He’s easy to talk to and you like that.

He and Yoongi go way back – Or so he’s told you. You didn’t know this, but when does Yoongi actually tell you anything? – and they make easy conversation while he works. You’re not getting the looks Yoongi keeps trying to send you, though. You’re usually in tune with each other’s signals, but Yoongi’s been sending up smoke all night, because what does he even mean?

“You guys need anything?” Yoongi comes over for the third time, nodding at your empty glass.

“I’m good, thanks.” You wave him away, why’d he keep interrupting?

Yoongi sighs, moving away to help Jimin bring out more glasses from the back room.

“This was nice. I don’t get out much...” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “I uh...wanted to ask you something...”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Namjoon looks a little nervous, playing with his fingers. “You know, last week when you came to the cafe? It was Wednesday, I think... You came with someone... Brunette about yay high?”

You know who he’s talking about before he actually asks. You sip on your rum coke just so you’d have something to do, watching as Namjoon gives a height estimate with a hand.

“You mean Brinny? Yeah...she works with me.”

You don’t blame him, Brinny’s a darling, an absolute angel. You feel like a complete clown, though. Maybe you’re cursed, or maybe you’ve pissed off some wrathful god in your past life.

You didn’t mean to visibly deflate, really you didn’t , but honestly, you’re tired. You feel like you’re stuck in an endless loop of ‘yeah, this isn’t gonna work out.’.

Namjoon pauses, eyes widening, “Oh God. This wasn’t a date was it?”

Ah, ignorance is bliss indeed. He looks genuinely worried, a crinkle between his brows as they furrow. Eyes round and a hand reaching out hesitantly, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch you even if he seeks to comfort you.

“What?” You snort, smacking his arm playfully. It’s the only way you can ease out of it so you don’t burst into tears in front of him. “No way! You’re a cool guy. I can totally put in a good word for you. Brinny’s nice.”

If Namjoon isn’t convinced - and you’re pretty damn sure he isn’t – he doesn’t show it. He nods slowly, smiling a little – a lot – awkwardly at you before throwing back the whiskey in his glass.

“Hey, slow down a bit, yeah?” Yoongi covers the top of your glass with a hand, frowning at you. You stare at his hand, at the rings that glint in the soft lighting of the bar with a pout. He quickly pulls it to him when you reach for it and instead passes you a bottle of water. “Drink this, sober up.”

“D’wanna.” You slur, leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool bar top. Yoongi taps your arm, and you make a disgruntled sound at the back of your throat raising your head with some effort. You prop your chin in your palm and blink slowly at him. “I wanna not exist right now. I’m so embarrassed!”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Yoongi scoffs, twisting the cap off the bottled water, he presses it firmly to your hand. The bar eventually died down, unusual for a Friday but you’re thankful. A whole lot less people to witness your downward spiral into self pity with the help of Yoongi’s fancy drinks. “I swear I thought you knew. I was trying to tell you.”

“What am I supposed to do with your blank ass stare, Min Yoongi?”

“Just drink the water.”

Yoongi leaves you be, walking away to greet someone that waved him over. You stare at the bottle with a frown before picking it up and downing nearly half. “Cupid must be on a holiday or something.”

“I wish.” Seokjin plops himself onto the barstool next to you, and you groan, because he’s the last person you want to see. You hadn’t seen him all week since you asked Namjoon out for drinks, you were just starting to get comfortable. “I could be somewhere nice and sunny right now. Instead I’m stuck looking after you.”

“How are you literally appearing out of nowhere?” You ask, a little sober now, enough to question the way he just randomly popped in.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, but all you do is call me names and hurt my feelings.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Enough about me though, I want to hear about your date.” He gives a cocky smile and you really want to punch it right off his pretty face.

“There’s nothing to tell.” You grumble, and Seokjin chuckles.

“I told you so.” He says, shrugging, “You wouldn’t listen.”

“That was a coincidence.” Your throat burns.

“Or was it?” Seokjin nudges your shoulder with his, “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so annoying?” You fire back and he purses his lips, raising a perfect brow at you. “I really think you’re stalking me. How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Right.” You huff, rolling your eyes before leaning forward, “I’m gonna be alone forever.”

“Well, if you’d let me actually do my job you won’t have to worry about that.”

Something hot is burning behind your eyes, throat tightening. You’re once again asking if you’re doing something wrong. You don’t get it, you’re a damn catch! Anyone would be lucky to have you.

You sniffle, swirling the water around in the bottle as tears blurs your vision.

“Please don’t cry.” Seokjin says, but it’s not at all comforting. It comes out in a ‘Are you serious?’ kind of way that only makes you want to cry even more, so you hop off the stool, shooting Yoongi a text on your way out of the bar.

You’re quite aware of Seokjin trailing behind you like he’s got nowhere else to be. Your phone vibrates somewhere in the depths of your bag but you ignore it, promising that you’ll just let Yoongi know when you get home.

“Can you stop following me?” You stop, turning around to face Seokjin.

“We live in the same apartment building!” He points in the direction you’re walking, rolling his eyes, “Is it a crime to go home now?”

“Well can you at least not walk so damn close to me? You’re giving me the creeps.” Turning on your heel you continue walking, and thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t follow until you’re at least five steps ahead.

“My offer still stands, you know!” There’s no reason for him to shout, but he’s doing it anyway. “This’ll keep happening if you don’t accept it!”

You stop walking again, bowing your head to stare at the concrete below your feet. His footsteps slow and stop too, waiting.

“If...If I say yes. Would you leave me the hell alone?” You sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s standing a few steps behind, hands in the pockets of his coat.

“No, but I can leave you alone for the rest of the night if you want.”

You tilt your head back, looking up at the overcast sky. Hoping for it to open up and give you the answer to all your problems. Honestly, what do you have to lose? Best that could happen is that he actually leaves you alone after this and you can go back to figuring it out on your own. Even though you’d already tried that and well...yeah.

“Fine.” You mutter softly, and Seokjin jogs over to you quicker than you can make sense of his movements. “I accept your stupid offer.”

“Finally.” Seokjin smiles, prettily, the glow of the street lamp looks like a halo above his head and for a second, you really believe that he’s an angel. He sticks out a hand, “You have to shake on it.”

“Are you serious?” You deadpan, staring at his hand as though it offended you.

“Yes.” There’s mirth in his eyes and you think he’s pulling your leg, but you shake his hand anyway. “Great! I’ll see you in the morning then.”

You look down at your hand as he walks away, grimacing, “You’re so weird.”

When you look up, Seokjin is gone and you’re standing on the sidewalk completely alone.

::

True to his word, you didn’t see Seokjin for the rest of the night. You’d gotten home, stared at his closed door for a while, having half a mind to knock and ask exactly what you’d gotten yourself into.

You thought that, yes, finally, he’ll leave you alone for good. That today when you had woken up bright and early, you’d be able to get some work done, maybe even clean up the apartment a bit.

You couldn’t be happier to work from home, even though it offers more distractions than you're able to deal with, it’s better to write from the comfort of your own home.

Though, Monday you had to be in the office to discuss some things with your team manager. You know that he’s going to ask about how your article is coming along, so you want enough of it finished by then.

You’re sipping on your coffee, content to watch the world wake up from behind your window, and there’s someone knocking at your door.

Sighing you place your cup on the coffee table, taking your sweet time to walk even as the knocks get insistent. You’re expecting Jungkook at the other side, or Yoongi coming over to give you a piece of his mind for bailing on him last night.

It’s just Seokjin, though. Standing there in black track pants and a white sweater, dark blue recurve bow in hand.

“Isn’t that dangerous to walk around with?”

“Not unless you’re my target.” Seokjin smiles, “Get ready, you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t think so, I have a lot of things to do today.”

“You really don’t.” He taps your forehead with a finger, but you’re not quite sure what he means by that. “Please hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

He races back down the hall, stopping to knock on Jungkook’s door before heading to his own apartment.

::

“Tell me again why I needed to drive you two?” You grumble, car slowing to a stop in the parking lot of Straight Arrow Archery Center. Jungkook gets out with a quick thanks, jogging through the parking lot.

“So I can start today, the quicker I get this done, the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.” Seokjin takes his time getting his things from the backseat, “C’mon.”

He waits until you're out of the car, rocking back on his heels before he marches across the parking lot. You’re following with quicker steps, trying to keep up with his longer strides.

The local archery range was owned by their coach, and they practice indoors when they’re not in the back field during the colder months. A big looming building, with large windows and chipping paint. You’ve only been inside a couple of times, once when Jungkook’s team was going against a team from the city over.

The heat’s blasting in the building, and you rub your hands together to help them warm up faster. Seokjin leads you through the front entrance of the building, where they have different types of bows mounted on the walls. There’s a board behind the counter, pinned full of photos of past teams and flyers about the center and archery safety.

The back room where the range actually is, some of the archers are taking practice shots or sitting against the back wall getting ready. You see Jungkook securing his quiver to his waist, joking with some of his teammates.

“Are you any good?” You ask Seokjin just to taunt and he purses his lips at you, leading you over to one of the many benches scattered around the range.

You sit and watch him set his bow up, attaching the stabilizers, sight and clicker to the front of the bow. He slips the chest guard over his head, sliding his arm through the loop, when he’s securing the arm guard against his forearm he finally answers you.

“I can shoot an apple off your head blindfolded.” He winks, “If you get hungry or anything, there’s a vending machine outside.” With that he jogs off at the call of the coach, the rest of the team following behind.

“Alright you guys, we all know that winter’s coming up, so we have a couple of weeks left to train up for the last competition. After that, we have some time off before the regionals in February.” The coach says, clapping her hands, “So! During these last weeks, I’ll be picking six of you for the competition!”

You watch on, genuinely interested in what’s being said. Jungkook had mentioned regionals a few times, talking about his excitement and nerves. The coach goes on a moment more about what she expects from her team and a few changes for meeting dates.

“Alright, let’s do our best today!” She says, waving them off, “Teams of three please. Seokjin, you’re up first.”

You perk up more, eyes following Seokjin’s movements as he stands behind a marker taped to the ground. He pulls an arrow from the quiver at his hip, the fletching and nock a shimmering gold that catches the overhead lights. He nocks the arrow, pulling the string back to his cheek and aims.

When he releases, you barely see the arrow cut through the air, you only hear the sharp whistle and the dull thump of it hitting the target dead center. The team claps and you’re not far enough to miss their mutterings as Seokjin walks forward to retrieve his arrow.

“He’s so cool!”

Half an hour later, you’re scrolling through your phone, finally answering the million and one texts Yoongi sent you last night.

Seokjin’s skill with the bow honestly surprised you, the way he’d nock and fire off arrows with inhuman precision was actually terrifying. It almost had you believing his little tirade, just almost, you’d yet to be convinced by his claims of being Cupid.

Part of you does believe him, though, as much as you’d hate to even think it. There’s just something strange about him. The way he’d seemingly appear from nowhere, disappear without a sound and – you truly believe that it was a coincidence – the way he knew that pursuing Namjoon would not be in your favor. There’s honesty in his eyes when he speaks of it, either you’re easy to be swayed or he honest to God believes he’s Cupid.

A Cupid, your mind berates and you scowl, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d stick around.” Jungkook sits on the bench next to you, digging around his duffle bag, “I can take the bus back you know?”

“I know, I’m actually waiting for Mr Sharpshooter over there.” You wave your hand in a vague direction, not too certain where Seokjin was standing.

Jungkook nudges your shoulder, “I see how it is.” He wiggles his eyebrows, “I’m definitely taking the bus home.”

“Now why would you say that?” You raise a brow, pocketing your phone, “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.”

“Sure it isn’t.” He over exaggeratedly winks, quieting to unwrap a sandwich and take a bite. “He’s pretty cool, though. I approve. He’ll have a hard time with Yoongi though...” He says through his mouthful, brows creased - a little angrily - as he chews.

“There’s nothing to approve!” You push his shoulder while he laughs, almost choking on his sandwich. “Kook. Can I ask you something?”

“Hm, yeah. What’s it?”

“Have you actually ever spoken about Seokjin before?” You think about how strange it is, Yoongi mentioned that Jungkook’s spoken of Seokjin before. Now that you’ve asked the question, you realise that you’ve never once heard of him. Most of the time if you’re not by yourself, you’re with the guys, and they aren’t usually by themselves either. Though, it could be nothing, could have been a conversation you weren’t privy to, just something you missed.

Jungkook rarely talks about his practices, unless something big happens, like the regionals announcement or when he wouldn’t let you, Yoongi or Hoseok forget that he fired the winning arrow during the summer semi’s even though you were all there to witness it. Seokjin’s never once come up, you don’t think.

You don’t remember seeing Seokjin in the times you’ve visited the Range or at any of the competitions, though, he seems to be well acquainted with everyone, and no one thinks it’s strange.

Jungkook stops mid bite, brows furrowing out of confusion now – and not because he really likes his sandwich – he nods, slowly.

“Yeah? I think so...” He doesn’t sound as though he believes his own words, “Yup, yeah. Definitely did.” He nods more surely, “....I think?”

“Are you sure? Because...”

“Bad mouthing me? I’ve only been gone thirty minutes, that’s rude.”

You look up to find Seokjin watching you with a raised brow. He unclips the belt at his waist to remove the quiver before he sits down, squinting at you. “What?”

“Nothing...it’s nothing...” You quickly look back to your phone, replying to Yoongi’s recent text.

“I’m gonna get something to drink from the vending machine, want anything?” Jungkook asks, shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and dusting his hands, you shake your head and he shrugs, “I’ll bring you back whatever, then.”

With that he leaves, lengthy hair bouncing with his steps as he makes his way out. You could feel Seokjin’s eyes on you and you slowly turn your head to face him, he’s indeed staring at you, in a way that makes you want to squirm and be as far away from him as possible.

“You have questions.” It’s a statement, because he knows.

“A few.” You nod, studying his features. He looks absolutely normal, nothing awry about him in visage. Leaning closer to him you ask softly for the sake of not being overheard. “Are you really a Cupid?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, watching you with thinly veiled suspicion, “What brought this on?”

“I’m just really curious.”

Seokjin hums, “I already told you, I am. I was extremely clear. Why? Change of heart? Or are you just trying to appease me by going along with it?”

There’s a hint of bite in his words, and you suddenly remember him saying that he gives up in the cafe, and realize, if he is indeed what he claims, you’re truly making his job harder. He’s like a venomous snake, poised and ready to strike if you misstep.

For a moment, you think it’s best to never get on his bad side if the slight irritation that darkens his eyes makes you feel cornered.

“I was just wondering.” You say, “It’s just strange how you just suddenly- I don’t think Jungkook knows you as well as he thinks. Yoongi definitely doesn’t know you either.”

“Ah.” He sighs, tilting his head curiously, “What I think is strange is that you noticed that.”

“You know... you’re kind of creepy. I think, sometimes it feels as though you’re normal but then it feels odd, like you’re an anomaly.”

“I’ll try not to be. But that’s just your senses telling you what you don’t want to believe.” Seokjin raises a hand to tap your forehead lightly with a finger.

You frown, “I’m not spiritual.”

“You don’t have to be.” He shrugs, “In terms for you to understand, I walk on a higher frequency than you do. Our energies are completely different, and it doesn’t matter if you are consciously aware of it or not, you’re going to realize that.”

“Okay.” You nod, trying to absorb the words that tumbled out of his mouth even though he basically dumbed it down for you. You’re still not certain if you believe what he says or if your mind is protecting you so that you just take it and run. “Why are you helping me?”

It feels silly to ask, but you’d like to think you’re not so deep and lost within the fog of your non-existent love life that a Cupid would take pity on you enough to step in.

“I hate seeing people struggle. It’s just so sad. You humans are like lambs without a shepherd; wandering aimlessly.” He sighs as though he’s in pain, before a smile breaks and his squeaky laugh follows, “I’m joking...partly.”

You roll your eyes, “No really, I want to know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Seokjin shakes his head, mirth lights his eyes still. Though you just stare at him, waiting, and he sighs, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I suppose I already crossed a million lines telling you I’m a Cupid.”

He taps a finger against his chin, “I’m trying to get a promotion, it’s extremely important that we get this settled.”

“...what?” You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Are you joking?”

“I do find myself hilarious, but no.”

“I thought angels wouldn’t lie.”

Seokjin gasps as though you’d offended him, and judging by the look on his face you probably had. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Just then. I’m supposed to believe that angels have what? A corporate system?”

“First of all, I do not lie. I just omit small things.” He pokes a finger at you and you swat at it. You want to tell him that telling a half lie is just lying while trying to seem truthful. “Secondly, yes. But I can’t tell you anything more on that, so don’t ask.”

You grumble to yourself, leaning back and away in time to spot Jungkook coming back with more than just drinks.

“He’s quite impulsive.” Seokjin chuckles, and you can only agree.

“Where are we going?” You trail behind Seokjin, down a busy street. Once again, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

“I’ve got a few potential candidates for you, all of which can work out though it mostly depends on your choices.” Seokjin slows down for your sake, “I’m not allowed to outright tell you who’s right for you, I can tell you who’s the wrong choice however.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if you told me?”

“It would, but it’s against the rules and frankly takes the fun out of everything.”

“You want to see me suffer?” You cross your arms, and Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head as he turns to face you. He plants his hands on your shoulders, hands drifting down to unfold your arms.

“I think you’ve suffered enough. All work and no pl-“ Seokjin pauses, looking past you. The change in his easy going expression is startling, the humor dimming to be replaced by anger, jaw tensing.

You take a half step away from him, wondering what could bring about his change of mood so swiftly. Curious, you turn to look.

A couple stopped just a few steps from you both, they're both dressed warmly to combat the weather. The guy seems a little shocked, enough that the girl you assume is his girlfriend asks him if he’s okay.

He offers her a smile, one that seemed a little nervous to you. He eyes you for a moment, with the same intensity that Seokjin sometimes does, before his eyes settle on the man next to you.

“Hyunjin.” Seokjin says, eyes flaring with something indiscernible. His voice is clipped, stare harsh as he takes a single step forward.

“Seokjin.” The man replies curtly, pulling his girlfriend slightly behind him, “How about we talk about this elsewhere?”

He motions a hand to the people passing by who was paying no mind to either of you. Seokjin turns on his heel, walking briskly and you stumble to follow.

Seokjin is unusually quiet as he leads you through the streets, and you wonder just who Hyunjin is to him for him to react this way.

You pass by familiar places, the café where Namjoon works, and across the street to the park that was suspiciously empty.

You’re afraid to ask Seokjin what the matter was, mindful of the way you can feel the anger radiating off of him. So you keep quiet, stopping when he does, and sitting on the park bench when he tells you to.

He keeps walking, stopping a good distance away, waiting.

Hyunjin sighs, placing a gloved hand against his girlfriend’s cheek. “I won’t be long, okay?”

She nods and he leaves, walking towards Seokjin. As she sits next to you, you offer her a smile, “Sorry, I hope we aren’t interrupting you two.”

“It’s okay.” She says, pushing her glasses back up her nose with a hand. She glances over to where Seokjin and Hyunjin are talking briefly. “Is he your friend?”

You snort, friend is one hell of a reach, “Fortunately not.”

“I’m Nikki.” She offers a hand that you shake.

“Y/n.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Seokjin’s voice raises and both you and Nikki turn toward them, “You can fall for this. She’s human, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin walks away, leaving Seokjin to gawk in disbelief. They both look angry enough to ignite the air around them, and Hyunjin ignores the call of his name, eyes softening when he lays them on Nikki. She stands at his approach, taking the hand that he offers. He gives you a long look, “I’d let him cool off first.”

You can only nod, voicing a soft goodbye as they leave.Turning your head you watch Seokjin who was too busy staring daggers into Hyunjin’s retreating form.

You give him a moment, waiting until Hyunjin and Nikki are across the street, until they merge into the crowd. You sit quietly, toeing the stone path beneath your shoe, kicking at a pebble and watching it roll its way away from you.

Eventually, Seokjin makes his way back, sitting next to you with a long drawn out sigh. “I have a headache.”

“You get those?” genuinely curious, you ask, but the withering glare Seokjin sends your way makes you snap your mouth shut. “Who is he?”

Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair in a way that’s deceptively human. You’re once again jealous of the way the strands fall back into place like they weren’t disturbed, making a note to ask him what shampoo he uses.

“Hyunjin is...” he shakes his head, jaw clenching, “We’ve been searching for him for a year. A guardian angel. That girl is his charge and up until now they’ve both been missing.

He said that he won’t leave her. That he would rather fall because he loves her. Ridiculous. It’s wrong, there’s only one way that could end and it’s not going to be nice. His duty isn't to love her that way.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it...” You mutter quietly.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t understand, there’s no way that you can begin to. He’s putting her and himself in danger.”

He quiets and you do too, the air is still charged and Seokjin goes off muttering to himself. You glance at him and you can see that he’s thinking, fingers pressed against his lips as he stares at nothing in particular. It isn’t your business, but you ask anyway, “Are you gonna tell them that you found him?”

“I should.” Seokjin replies after a moment more of silence, “For now, though, I’ll turn a blind eye. I have more important things to do.”

“Right, yeah.” You nod, eyeing him carefully, “What were you saying earlier? Candidates?”

You’re not quite sure how people find watching sports exhilarating. Though, you’re here for Jungkook – and Seokjin - sitting on a bench between Yoongi and Hoseok, cheering as loudly as you can.

Its the last competition before the break, and if the Athens shoot the winning arrow, they’ll be at regionals next year.

You’d wished him and Seokjin luck before they’d left this morning, knowing well the latter didn’t need it at all. You know Jungkook was nervous, you can see him bouncing his leg even from where you are.

“Any bets?” Yoongi nudges your arm with his, passing you a soda, “I hope Jungkook doesn’t drop his bow or anything...”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Seokjin’s on his team, there’s no way they’d lose.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot.” Hoseok comments, and you spot him dipping his fingers into the pocket of his sweater only to come out with a gummy worm.

You wiggle your fingers at him, he side eyes you but gives you some anyway. “He’s cool.” You shrug, ignoring the soft snort that leaves Yoongi.

“Right.” There’s a knowing look that Yoongi sends you, one that you also ignore.

The teams take turns, women from opposite sides going first, and then the men, all scoring fairly well for their teams. It’s a moment again before the last shooters are ready, and they can either make or break the win.

Five minutes and a couple more gummy worms after, Seokjin is finally stepping up to his marker. If he scores a full ten, the Athens would take the win.

He nocks his arrow the way you’ve seen him done before, and the crowd quiets, waiting with baited breath. He takes aim and your squeezing Hoseok’s hand, he releases the arrow. There’s the sharp whistle, louder that the stands are still, and the sound of it hitting the target.

The folks that came all the way from your city to watch cheers the loudest as Seokjin and his team celebrates the win.

You’re all gathered in your apartment after the match. Though, Everyone had decided that celebrations would wait until the morning, desperate to get home and out of the cold of the winter air and into the warm houses. You just wished someone could convince the archers in your friend group.

Seokjin had insisted on doing something, claiming to be busy the next day. He’d drag you all off to the market, rushing you around to pick stuff from a crumpled list he pulled from the bottom of his duffle bag.

“Hey,” Seokjin says greets softly, passing you an opened beer with a soft smile.

“Thanks” You smile back, because he’ll just nag your ear off until he gets you to smile. Seokjin’s been in the kitchen since you all came back, shooing both you and Yoongi attempting to help, claiming culinary genius.

Your apartment does smell aromatic; filled with a blend of different spices. You know whatever Seokjin’s making is gonna knock your socks off. “You better wow me with your cooking. After you chased me out of my own kitchen.” You tease, and Seokjin chortles.

“Trust me, my cooking is unmatched.” He says confidently, chest puffing up.

You hum around the mouth of your beer, “Uh huh. You’ll have to prove that. No one’s better than Yoongi.”

Seokjin side eyes you playfully, poking at your stomach with a finger that you grab onto, “Yeah, Yeah.”

He quiets, wiggling his finger in your grip, “I wanted to do something nice.”

You make a confused sound in the back of your throat, because what more could he possibly want to do? He’s already helping you find the person you’re meant to be with, and on top of that, have the patience of Mother Theresa and you remain stubborn to a fault. Though, you suppose, he has his nature and you do too.

Hoseok and Jungkook are watching some age old holiday film, not paying mind to either you or Jin. Yoongi had long said he’d be back, though it’s been a half hour with no sign of your grumpy best friend.

“Wanna help me in there?” Seokjin points his thumb over his shoulder, and you raise a brow, “You can help me cut some stuff; I’ve only got two hands.”

“You sure you actually need my help?”

“She’s a disaster in the kitchen.” Yoongi suddenly appears behind Seokjin, a bottle of whisky in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. “I’ll help.”

You make an offended sound, “I’ll have you know that I am great at cutting stuff!”

Yoongi only hums, slinking off like a bored feline into the kitchen. Seokjin pats your head, “You know how to hold a knife, right?”

“Why are you cutting it like that?”

You look down at the cutting bored through the tears stinging your eyes, and you sniffle, “I could barely fucking see. I hate cutting onions.”

Yoongi shoos you away, taking the knife gently from your hold, “Go wash your eyes.”

You shuffle, partly blinded by the sting and tears in your eyes to the sink, arms stretched out before you as your only guide. A warm hand grasps your wrist, leading you forward, “I thought you said you were good at it.”

Seokjin’s voice holds amusement, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s getting a kick out of the situation. You want to tell him that your skill with cutting vegetables and the onion’s rhine burning your eyes has absolutely nothing to do with each other, but you’re too busy trying to find the tap with your hands.

He turns the tap on for you as you lean down towards the flow, and you feel his hands pulling your hair back and out of the way. Sweet relief comes with the cool stream of water rinsing the sting from your eyes, though they’re still irritated enough for you to dig the heels of your palms into them when you straighten. “Onions are evil.”

“Are they?” Seokjin gently pulls your hands away from your face, “Don’t rub them.”

“Tell that the itch driving me up a wall.” You’re a little surprised at how close he is, barely an inch away from you. The rhythmic sound of Yoongi cutting vegetables fades to background noise that you can barely focus on, distracted by Seokjin’s brown eyes peering into yours and the gentle way he swipes his thumbs under your lower lids.

“They’re all red now.” He says softly, and he seems distracted too, eyes filtering away from yours and somewhere lower.

“You guys want me to leave?” Yoongi drawls, effectively breaking the moment, “I can do that you know. Just walk right outta here.” He’s pointing the knife over his shoulder, eyebrow raised, though there’s humour in his eyes.

You pull away from Seokjin’s hands, clearing your throat, “Can I finish cutting the onions now?”

“No, but you can start on the bell peppers for me.” Seokjin hands you a small glass bowl with yellow and red peppers, and you do your best to ignore his fingers brushing yours.

When dinner was ready, the four of you gather at the table, trading laughs and stories and you feel content in this moment. Watching your boys be happy, and Jungkook laughing so hard he chokes only to be scolded by Yoongi. Seokjin next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him.

You wonder how it’ll be once his job’s done and he leaves, would you miss him? He’s still as weird as you thought he was that time you met him in your hallway. You’ll miss his laugh, and the way he can comfort you without trying, you’ll miss him doing his best to make you happy even when he doesn’t have to.

The way he pulled you close when one of your first dates went wrong even with his meddling.

You’ll miss him.

Seokjin’s grown quite fond of you, he thinks, a dangerous thing, he believes. Over the weeks that passed, he’s successfully done his job; setting you on the right track to find your person.

The first couple of dates, Seokjin seeked out people you were familiar with, rather than strangers.

He’d stay close by at all times, observing from a distance. On the days when you’d rather not do anything, Seokjin would meet in your apartment. He’d never tell you that the thing’s you’d have him get up to weren’t what he’d consider fun. He’d go anyway, content to watch you instead of whatever movie you’d convinced him to watch with you.

That’s when he realized it.

Funny, really.

Seokjin has seen love before, as it is, his duty was to bring those who are fated together by a series of coincidences. A meet-cute here, a spilled coffee there, even going as far as to reunite friends who've grown up and apart from each other. He’s seen how love can make people bloom like flowers in the spring, and change like seasons together.

He’s seen love make people go distances they’d have never dared to otherwise. He’s seen it in simple words and touches, grand and minute gestures.

So, Seokjin knows what love is when he feels it. It’s that feeling he gets in his chest when you smile, poking fun at him because there’s always something that’s so distinctively human he would never understand. Strange now that it makes him happy, you’re at a point where you no longer deny him being your friend when other people ask, when you take his teasing in stride like friends do.

You’re happier now, despite the trial and error and the hoops you have to jump through to get where you want to be.

It’s the way your hand felt in his when you held it for the first time. It was after one of your many dates, a Saturday evening when the sun was already dragging the moon into the sky.

First snow, and you’d both sat on swings in an empty park far away from where you’d normally venture. Crystalline flakes fluttered into your hair and melted on your clothes. He’d given you his scarf before you could start to shiver.

He’d been content to watch you then, boots kicking at the snow that was piling up quickly.

Watching the way you found joy in a snowflake landing on your nose, and the way you’d try to catch them with your tongue. On the way out of the park, you held his hand because there was ice on the ground and you didn’t want to slip.

Even through the layer of your gloves Seokjin felt the warmth of your skin. He’s way beyond being flustered by such a thing, but heat climbed his neck and flushed his cheeks and he blamed it on the cold.

Seokjin felt something curl around his heart tightly, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He understands Hyunjin now, he thinks, his words play on his mind more frequently these days. Unlike Hyunjin, though, Seokjin is too rooted to his place.

The dangers that would come from you and him being anything more than what you are now are too great for Seokjin to risk it. He knows well what would come of it, and it’s nothing good. You would have to spend the rest of your life hiding from the seeing eyes of others, and the forces that will undoubtedly tear you apart.

Seokjin doesn’t want that for you. You will be more unhappy than you’ve ever been. Forced to remain in shadows even when Seokjin represents a light greater than man could ever create. It would be selfish of him to want it, to go through with it as though he’s not making you suffer.

There’s a lump in his throat as he swallows, as he looks at you now, sitting next to him, with not a care in the world.

You glow brightly, like a star, burning hot in the far distance. Far, far off. And just like a star, you’re something he could never reach, even with all his prowess; you aren’t his to hold.

Though he wants to, and it hurts that he can’t.

“Jin.” You call his name softly, and Seokjin realizes that he’s failed. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so defeated.

He’s seen you, too. The way you’d try to pretend that his feelings aren’t yours as well. He knows. He’s seen love enough to know.

The way you’d flush at your friends’ teasing, but would not deny it. The way you’d watch him as though you’ve found something that you’ve been searching for.

“Are you okay?” Your concerned tone made him realize that he’s turned to look at you, but he’s not said anything. He nods, a little unsurely and you have a right to not look convinced.

You’re different now than you were when Seokjin met you. When he’d planted himself into the memory of your friends for the sake of his task. Truly, he wasn’t supposed to, he was supposed to do his job from a distance, never to interfere. He’s watched you go on date after date and all his arrows would fall short of their target.

So, he did the most sensible thing and got directly involved. He was supposed to be finished already, it was supposed to be quick. He’s lingered too long, and now he's sunk so deeply into clear waters that it's turned to mud. He’s unwilling to lead you to the one you’re destined for – even though he knows who it is – and he’s unwilling to let himself be the one to love you instead.

His duty isn’t to love you, he knows this.

“I’m okay.” Angels aren’t supposed to lie, but he did, and he has been for a while. Trying to convince himself that he wasn’t falling in love with you.

“You’re lying.” You say, knowingly. How far have you come to be able to read him like this?

“I’ve never once lied to you.” Seokjin says, and it’s without his usual mirth. You give him a questioning look and not much else, nodding your head slowly.

“If you say so...”

Seokjin simmers in his thoughts for a while, glancing at you when you laugh at something silly.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, and you hum, turning to face him. Seokjin takes a breath, “I have to leave.”

“Right now? The movie isn’t even finished yet.”

“I know...” Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He stares at the TV screen, not really paying attention, watching a young girl ride a dragon to a far away place. He never understood your reason for having a TV in your bedroom, but it’s quite convenient for comfort.

He could just leave quietly, slip out of your apartment and out of your life without a word. It doesn’t feel right to do so without telling you, though.

“I won’t be back.” Seokjin waits for his words to settle, as the movie fades to background noise and he watches as realization dawns on you.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask, voice pitching at the end, you stand and he does too, “But you haven’t – You can’t leave.”

“I have to.” He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm the storm before it blows in. It’s not helping, he knows, as you take a step back.

“Tell me why.” You demand, and Seokjin sees the tears in your eyes before they fall. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything. It’s me.” Seokjin sighs, “This...this was a mistake. I never should have gotten involved.”

You call his name then, with so much pain that Seokjin feels his heart shatter in his chest. He hates it. He hates that even doing this, he still manages to make you unhappy, he’s the cause of your uneven breaths and the tears that race their way down your cheeks and he hates it.

“I’ll make sure you find them. I promise.”

“But I don’t want that! I love you. You can’t just leave.”

Seokjin lets his hands fall to his sides, staring at a spot somewhere above your head to avoid looking you in the eye. He knows what you want, of course he does, because he wants it to. You've gone and said it and that only makes things harder.

“Y/n.” He says your name firmly, and you snap your mouth shut, shoulders shaking still as you try to put an end to your tears. He takes a step closer, raising a hand to cup your cheek, “We can never be. It’s not meant to be this way.”

“Please don’t go.” You whisper, fingers curling around his wrist. “Please stay.”

His resolve is breaking. The longer he stays the harder it’ll be to walk away. Sighing he wraps his arms around you, holding you as you shatter.

Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead and your eyes in turn, chasing away the remainder of your tears. There’s sadness still in your eyes when you open them, he tilts your head back to capture your lips softly with his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wiping away tears that still fall.

“Do you promise?”

Instead of answering, Seokjin kisses you again, hands slipping under the warmth of your sweater to meet your soft skin. He feels the shiver that runs through you, and he wonders if his hands are cold. You call his name softly and he gently quiets you, tugging lightly at the hem of your sweater, “Can I take this off?”

You nod and Seokjin helps you wiggle your way out of it. He doesn’t think of the consequences – he doesn’t want to, so he allows his mind to blank. He’ll give in only this once, he’ll give himself to you for the first and last time, no matter how selfish it seems.

He kisses you slowly, making a map of the marks he leaves against your skin. He wants to tell you everything, he wants to take every step with you, meet you somewhere along a coast where nothing matters. But here, he’ll steal this moment and keep it with him forever, until the pain of it fades and he could look back on it fondly.

He quiets the small sounds you make with his mouth, hands bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. You fit perfectly below him, like a puzzle piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to find.

He props himself up on his hands, gazing at you, “You’re so beautiful.” He leans down, brushing his nose against you, lips finding yours again.

There’s a storm raging outside, wind sending snow pattering softly against your window. Seokjin tries not to let his mind wander, not when you're beneath him and so warm. Your skin is warm, your scent invades his senses and you’re the only thing he could see and Seokjin feels like crying. There’s something in the back of his mind that’s screaming at him, jarring and loud, that he should savor this moment because he’ll never have it again.

He pulls away from you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, “I’m taking these off, okay?”

Your knee nudges his side, “You first. You’re still dressed.”

Seokjin chuckles, quickly pulling his sweater and the tee-shirt he wears over his head, “Now we’re even.”

He stands to step out of his sweatpants, allowing you a moment to strip the rest of your clothes on your own. He settles next to you, fingers tracing patterns against the soft skin of your inner thighs, touching lightly just to watch your eyes flutter shut and your nipples stiffen into peaks when he blows air over them. He marks you with his teeth and his tongue, taking a nipple into his mouth, hand stilling when you raise your hips to meet it.

“Impatient little thing.” He mutters, but cuts your pleading whine short, fingers finding where he knows you want him most, groaning at the wetness he finds. He rubs slow circles against your clit and catches your moans with his lips. When he’s teased you enough, when your desperate moans of his name is enough to make him rut his growing erection against your hip, he sinks his fingers into your heat, thumb never leaving your clit.

He curls his fingers against a spot that makes you cry out, your arousal drips into his palm, and he sucks bruises into the skin of your neck. Seokjin’s hips jerk forward when your fingers curl around his cock, squeezing around the base, “Fuck.”

Your other hand stills his and he pulls away to look at you, pupils blown and eyes heavily lidded, chest rising and falling with your breaths. “Can we just...”

“It’s been a while for you, right?” Seokjin asks softly, slowly resuming the thrust of his fingers, at your nod there’s a smirk on his exhale, “It’ll hurt if I don’t. Gotta stretch you out first.”

He can feel the way your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, feel the way shudder, moans rising his pitch. “Jin- fuck, I’m so close.”

“Already?” Jin tilts his head, tone teasing. He kisses you, tongue sliding against your own, “Let go for me, baby.”

Your gasp is followed by a drawn out moan, curses and unintelligible words on the end of it. Seokjin watches you tip over the edge, unable to help the motion of his hips thrusting his cock into the loose grip your hand had around it. Removing his fingers from your heat, he lets you catch your breath, pressing a kiss to your temple, “You did so well baby, so good for me.”

Seokjin pulls away, placing a fleeting kiss on your shoulder, “Do you have condoms?” He asks, rubbing a hand on your trembling thigh. He would’ve thought you’d passed out if it wasn’t for the limp way you motion to the bedside table.

You peek an eye at him, “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.” You murmur, and Seokjin smiles, shaking his head.

“That’s good to know sweet girl, but it’s not that. You don’t want what I can give you, trust me.” Seokjin turns to rummage through your things, finding the box tucked into a corner, “It’ll be hell if something unexpected happens. We’ll have a very big problem on our hands.”

“Oh, you mean...”

“Yes. It’s best if we avoid that.” He tears the glossy wrapper with his teeth, moving back to you, he kneels between your open legs. He slides the condom on and you prop up on your elbows to watch, when Seokjin’s eyes flicker up, he could see the hint of worry in yours. He raises a hand to brush your cheek with his fingers, “I’ll go slowly.”

He’s mindful of his size and how long it’s been for you as you settle again, one hand gently gripping your hip, he keeps his eyes on you, watching your every expression. He drags his cock against your sopping cunt, hand holding steady, he leans down to slot his lips to yours, “Ready?” He whispers, waiting until you nod.

A groan leaves him as he enters you, and your fingernails scratches red into his shoulders. He buries his face against your neck, teeth nipping at the skin he could reach, giving slow shallow thrusts until he bottoms out. You’re so warm and tight around him, he takes the calls of his name as prayer, you cling to him as though he’d disappear, and Seokjin thinks that some part of you knows.

Nothing you can say or do will make him change his mind, but he’ll allow you this moment. This moment where it’s just you and him and nothing else, where he can easily show you how he feels without promising anything more.

He thrusts slowly, wanting the moment to last for as long as it can, knowing that he will go on and remember this, and you, when the morning comes you would never know that you’ve loved and been loved.

This way, it’s better, it’ll be easier knowing that one day you’ll find what you need in someone else that isn’t him, without ever knowing what you mean to him at all. Things will return to the way it was meant to be, with him watching from a distance, guiding you in the way he was supposed to from the start.

Seokjin wills the tears behind his eyes to go away, and tells his mind to shut up.

Your name is a sigh on his lips, a prayer that when the time comes he could walk away. Your hips rise to meet his thrusts, and Seokjin loses his fingers in your hair, holding you closer because it’s all he could do as you grow ever tighter around him. He chases his end as you find yours, lips crashing against yours sloppily when he stills, release spilling into the condom.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks after a moment, when the room doesn’t feel like a sauna, and he’s finished cleaning you and himself up. Brushing back your hair that hides your eyes from his view, you kiss his palm and Seokjin tries not to let his sadness show in his smile.

“I’m okay. Can we take a shower? I feel gross.” You laugh, already getting up to walk to your closet, you throw a towel at him and he catches it.

“That’s rude, we don’t throw things.” Seokjin trails after you, taking your hand in his because he needs to be grounded right now and not think about what he has to do.

When you stir the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold, but Seokjin’s sitting at your side, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“You’re still here?” You murmur, smiling sleepily. You open your eyes a bit to see him fully dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m here.” Seokjin smiles sadly, massaging your scalp with his fingers, “I have to go.”

You pull away from him to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a hand, “Are you coming back?”

He watches you quietly for a moment before he shakes his head, “I can’t.” He takes your hand and squeezes gently, “This...we can’t.” He sighs, frustrated, knowing what he has to say, what he needs to do.

Seokjin has spent thousands of years watching the rise and fall of mankind over and over, doing his duty as a Cupid to bring those who are fated together. He’s seen heartbreak, he’s seen how it shatters a person’s very being, now he knows what it feels like as he watches tears gather in your eyes because you know, too.

“Don’t go. Please. We can make this work, Jin. Please.” His throat feels tight, something is squeezing his chest and he hates it. He hates that you’re crying because of him, because he’s breaking your heart. “Please stay.”

“I can’t.” Seokjin whispers this, pulling you closer when you reach for him, the sound of your sobs etches into his core and they cut deep. He’s held you, a star, and you’ve burnt him now. Stars burn the brightest as they die, giving their all in the last moment of their lives, and like a star he watches as you implode.

Sometimes though, stars don’t always turn into black holes when they die, sometimes they scatter into matter and burn dimly forever. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why? Why’d you let me fall for you?” You hiccup, pushing at his chest and Seokjin lets you, letting his hands drop at his side. “You knew that this was going to happen and you let it happen!”

Your tears are angry now, but still so sad, and you slap weakly at his arms. “Why?”

“I’m sorry.” He cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbs catching your tears. He wished it wasn’t this way, he wished that things were different, that maybe, you could’ve met him under different circumstances. That he wasn’t him, but you were still you. He wasn’t expecting it, like most things, it simply happened.

He kisses you while you cry, your fingers curl tightly into the material of his sweater, “I’m sorry. You have to forget me.”

You pull away from him completely, tears flowing faster now, “No.”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“You can’t do that. What gives you the right?” You escape his reach, moving to the other side of the bed where you get off, turning to face him, “You can leave. You can go and pretend that this never happened. You can’t make me forget, I don’t want to forget you.”

Sighing Seokjin gets up too, walking around the bed to you. You step backwards until you have nowhere to go, back against the wall. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“So stubborn.” Seokjin clenches his jaw, his head hurts and he wants this to be over. The longer he stands here having this conversation, the harder it will be to follow through. He walks until he’s in your space, hand finding your cheek again. “Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Jin.” You whisper his name and his heart breaks, “Please.”

“Are you ready to spend the rest of your life knowing that we can never see each other again? Knowing me will put everyone you care about in danger. There’s no chance. It’ll break you and I’d rather not have that happen.” Seokjin says, “This was never supposed to happen. We weren’t meant to happen.”

“I don’t want to forget.” You repeat, stubbornly. “Please don’t make me forget.”

Seokjin leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers already at your temple before you have the chance to stop him. He leans away, just watching you, memorizing your features as though he’d ever forget. “I love you.”

You finally quiet, staring at him with wide eyes, “Jin.”

“I’m sorry.” You fall limp and Seokjin catches you before you can hit the floor, holding you to him as the dam breaks and he cries. He cries for the moments he’s shared, the moments you would now live never to remember, he cries because he knows what heartbreak is and he feels it. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

After he places you back into bed, he makes sure that nothing belonging to him remains. Seokjin walks slowly out of your apartment, looking around at everything because it’s the last time. There’s no way he can come back here, he needs to go as far away as he possibly can.

Softly, he closes your door behind him, and every step he takes he feels as though his heart is being pulled out his chest. He makes it all the way down the hall, and into the elevator when Yoongi steps out of his apartment. He looks at Seokjin for a moment, no sign of recollection whatsoever. The last thing Seokjin before the doors slide close is Yoongi opening yours and going in.

“Y/n. Why the fuck are you sleeping with the window open? Are you trying to get sick?” Yoongi stomps his way into your bedroom, pulling your window shut. He turns to look at you as you sit up, “Hey. Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” You hum, confused, wiping your fingers under your eyes, “I...I don’t know? Must’ve been a dream?”

“Can you get ready in ten minutes?” Yoongi boldly rummages through your drawers, throwing clothes your way. “The café has deals on donuts and I wanna get some before they sell out.”

He walks to your door, while you sit, still sleepy, still confused. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah...I just...I feel like I’ve lost something.”

Broke your heart? Read the What If sequel drabble - Here

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @matchstick6812 @jinsquishes @allhobbitstoisengard @eren-fall @dontstoptime​ @eoieopda​

#persphonesorchid #bts seokjin #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts imagine #bts one shot #bts fanfiction #bts fic rec #BTS fic Collab #Catch of the century #Jin's dirty thirty #Fic: Cupid's on holiday #Angel au #Cupid au #Cupid!Seokjin #Slight enemies to lovers

[joheunsaram]

Catch of the Century (Collab Masterlist)

Hello everyone! Welcome to the stadium!

Take a seat and witness our very own Kim Seokjin knock it out of the park in his role as Worldwide Sporty Guy on his thirtieth birthday!

Isi (@raplinesmoon​), Ryen (@kithtaehyung​) and Mars (@joheunsaram​) are super excited to announce the masterlist for our first ever BTS 30 for 30 collab. We have gathered 30 phenomenal writers to showcase 30 sports celebrating Seokjin’s athletic prowess for his 30th birthday! 

Please see below the cut for details of the fics. All fics go live by December 15th so get ready to cheer and don’t forget to come back to read them!

Cupid's On Holiday by @persephonesorchid Archery Seokjin x Reader angel au | smut, fluff, angst, humour You don't get it, you're a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're smart, you're tidy, hell you'd give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend's competitive archery teammate is telling you he's Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You're not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove 'em.

Subtle by @apotatomashedbybts​ Badminton Badminton Player Seokjin × Badminton Player Reader  strangers to lovers | angst, smut, fluff

Shelves full of trophies, albums full of newspaper cuttings, a loving family and a stellar reputation, yet you felt a piece of yourself missing somewhere. So after a lifelong affluent and unprecedented badminton career, at the timeless age of 65, 30 years after your retirement, you decided to write your autobiography. You gave yourself to the world and in return came accolades and controversies alike. But what came the most was questions about the most explicit chapter of your life, that you named Subtle.

Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon Baseball Baseball Player Seokjin x Doctor Reader time travel au | angst, smut, fluff, humour

After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

Technical Fault by @bangtansmauyeondan Basketball Basketball Coach Seokjin × Teacher Reader  coworkers au | fluff, angst

When one of your best students in class failed his mid-term exams, you only had one person to blame— Coach Jin. He thinks he's the king of the world— tall, handsome, brooding, borderline arrogant and seems to be always getting things done his way, but you are adamant to give him a piece of your mind. The only problem is that you easily get tongue-tied in his presence.

Who's the Best? by @lokidow-strange-army Boxing Private Boxing Teacher Seokjin x Rich Uni Student Reader age gap | angst, smut

Power means money and money is power. Living out of your parents seemingly endless bank account as a grown women gives you as much power and freedom as you could desire. When your parents discover you have been spending their money on university classes and private boxing lessons instead of trying to court a husband, they threaten to cut you off financially until you get your act together. You have no intention of settling down anytime soon, nor do you intend on losing access to your parents bank account, so you make a plan on how to not lose either; one big lie that relies on you and your boxing teacher Kim Seokjin... That is if he'll play along. Fortunately you know how to rile this man up better than anyone else: first with money and food, then with teasing, taunting and a good old fashion competition.

Almost in Love by @btsstan12 Cricket Seokjin x Reader fluff, angst, humour

Do you know what the saddest English word is? Almost. They almost cracked the code, they almost passed, they almost survived, they almost fell in love. When Jin left his old life behind to pursue professional cricket he didn’t think he’d ever return. But as fate would have it, he came back, just to have his life turned upside down. He knew this wasn’t an ‘almost’, not this time.

Into The Rush by @sunshinerainbowsbts​ Dodgeball Seokjin x Reader best friend’s brother au | smut, fluff, angst, humour

When your best friend Taehyung tells you he has the perfect thing to help you get over a broken heart, you're surprised to learn he means dodgeball, the beloved game of sociopathic gym teachers everywhere. But even more surprising is the way you find comfort in the game, and so much more, as you fall into the rush with the help of another teammate - his brother, Seokjin.

Allez by @hamsterclaw Fencing Seokjin x Reader competitive fencing au | smut

Seokjin’s the latest fencer to join your parents’ studio. He’s talented, beautiful and challenges you in ways beyond the foil.

On Thin Ice by @mrworldwideshoulders  Figure Skating Figure Skater Reader x Figure Skater Seokjin enemies to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

Kim Seokjin is the image of the perfect figure skater – and he knows it. He’s got the skills, the talent, the looks – the only thing he’s missing is the matching gold medal. But when singles skating turns out to be too much for him to handle after an embarrassing mistake and a knee injury at the World Championship, his coach decides that his best chance at taking gold will be skating with a partner. That's where you come in. There’s only one problem: he’s damn near impossible to work with.

Take the Bait by @aquagustd Fishing Fisherman Seokjin x Reader vacation au | smut

When you wake up on unfamiliar shores after a wild yacht party, the last thing you expected was to land in the home of the town’s very own urban legend; although he’s not as callous as the stories paint him to be and one look at his face has one horrible idea leading to another.

Oh My Angel by @jeonspub Golf Golf Player Seokjin x Golf Player Reader strangers to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

Between seas, galaxies and the moon I was lucky I stepped on the same land, I dreamt under the same stars as you.

Stick It by @otsukare--sope​ Gymnastics Gymnast Kim Seokjin x Kim Taehyung friends to lovers, hurt/comfort | fluff

Seokjin always sticks the landing. Always. Until a certain someone throws him for a loop - or just makes him miss one. (Alternatively, 3 times Seokjin nails the landing and the 1 time he doesn’t.)

Bar Down by @ressjeon​ Hockey Hockey player Seokjin x Reader college au | angst, fluff, smut

Everything was going well, meeting Seokjin when he was a senior was the highlight of your freshman year. You love the stability now that you’re still his favourite after a year until rumours started where he’s apparently dating a renowned figure skater - whom you have known him to have a history with.

The Torn Prince by @sugakookitty​ Mixed Martial Arts Lycan Seokjin x Human Female Reader enemies to lovers, supernatural au | angst, smut

Centuries ago, he was the crowned prince next in line to take over the throne, but he lost everything when he refused to dilute his bloodline with a human bride. The punishment was severe—an eternity plagued with an unbreakable curse. He’s out-lived his entire kingdom, and his kind is nearly extinct. The beast living within him longs for the perfect mate, but it can’t be you.

Beyond the Flag by @underthe-northernlight​ Racing Racer Seokjin x Motorcyclist Reader enemies to lovers | action, fluff, angst

Kim Seokjin, declared handsomest raced in South Korea, triple crowned World Cup winner. Now he faces a challenge unlike any other; to get back behind the wheel before the next season or quit while he has his life ahead of him. After a major crash on the course, people start talking about his retirement but deep down Jin is still not ready to quit even though he might risk his life. A call from CIA agent Park Jimin persuaded him to uncover whatever Seoul’s biggest illegal racing community hides under the hood. (Y/N), the hard-headed motorcyclist helps him on the way to take back his confidence behind the wheel but will he be back before the next season?

Swing by @shina913​ Rowing Seokjin x Reader college au, best friends to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

You and Jin have been friends for years. You’ve been in sync in almost every aspect of your lives–even scoring full-ride scholarships to the same university! You, based on academics and him, in athletics. Although you both said that your friendship would remain the same, changes were inevitable. You grew apart and watched your friendship wither until it was all but a distant memory. When you reach your senior year, he finds out that his scholarship is on the line and you are the only person he can turn to for help. Will you come to his aid for old time's sake?

Other Half of My Heart by @onmypillow-onmytable​ Rugby Rugby Player Seokjin x Teacher Reader strangers to idiots to lovers | fluff, humor, angst, (implied) smut

After leaving the family business on the brink of turning 30, Seokjin is still trying to figure out where he truly belongs. Much to his family’s dismay, he’d rather stay at home playing video games or joining the scrum of the local rugby club, instead of planning his next move. That’s until he sees you, an ordinary elementary school teacher, at one of his rugby matches, and begins to think more seriously about his future for the first time. Will he make a try for you, or fumble the ball?

Come Sail Away by @the-boy-meets-evil​ Sailing Seokjin x Reader idiots to lovers | fluff, smut, angst

Seokjin is (finally) exactly where he wants to be. he's got the perfect team and they're competing in the best regattas around the world. Nothing could burst his bubble. Until Taehyung ends up breaking his arm, that is. now Seokjin has two options. On the one hand, he can withdraw his team from the regatta this year, ignoring the fact that it only takes place every two years and he's not guaranteed to qualify again. or he can call you. He hasn't talked to you since university and he's not particularly looking forward to it now but he's desperate and you're the only replacement he knows that can fill in.

Riding Fakie by @ugh-yoongi​ Skateboarding Seokjin x Female Reader humour, fluff, angst

The rules are clear: bring a date to your brother’s wedding or kiss your trust fund goodbye, which is fine except you hate your brother, so who better to scam into accompanying you than the obnoxious, immature skateboarder that lives to torment you? He’s got tattoos and a seemingly permanent black eye, and you’ve got a bone to pick—there’s no way you’re going to face plant.

Wipeout by @yoon2k​ Snowboarding Debate Captain Seokjin x Reader college au, enemies to lovers | fluff, smut

You always thought that you could go toe-to-toe with Seokjin on anything—be it the debate team topics, witty insults, or plain bickering back and forth. But when your friends drag you both out to a ski resort for winter break, you realize his hidden snowboarding talent shows you up in ways that make even your frozen cheeks fume in anger. Even worse, you find out another secret about the Debate Team Captain—and this one heats you up in ways you never expected.

A Game of Two Halves by @madbutgloriouspond​ Soccer Goalie Seokjin x Physical Therapist Female Reader angst, smut 

When Jin finds himself injured right before the most important games of the season, he starts to second guess himself and whether or not he’ll be able to bounce back in time.

All You're Giving Me Is Friction by @hot-soop​ Surfing Surfer Seokjin x Lifeguard Reader fluff, angst

You’ve graduated! congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. and it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door.

The Restitution Coefficient by @effortandmore​ Table Tennis Seokjin x Namjoon fluff, smut

Seokjin has everything going for him. He was one of the youngest people to make VP at his company, at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. Like, really good looking. According to people other than his mother, thank you very much. So, when things around him start to crumble because of one stubborn and annoyingly attractive client, he finds himself looking for vindication in a place he's sure he can’t be beat—the annual office ping pong tournament.

Trade My Life by @btsmosphere​ Taekwondo Bodyguard Seokjin x Royalty Reader historical au, childhood friends to lovers | angst, action

Two children giggling in the corner of the dojang, trading equally in punches and hugs, everything a game. But that was long ago, and now that man stands day after day outside the door which separates your two worlds. is the throne really worth leaving the barrier unbroken?

Double Fault by @joonscypher​ Tennis Pro Tennis Player Seokjin x Female Reader strangers to lovers | fluff, humor, smut

Working at a fancy rich people tennis resort means you run into your fair share of oblivious, privileged pricks. This year’s tennis tournament brings even more arrogant wealthy people, which includes international tennis champion, Kim Seokjin. You’d love to ignore him and go about your life as usual, but Seokjin has other plans - doing his best to ensure you can’t ignore him and maybe even…fall for him?

All Rumours Are True by @biteofkookie​ Track and Field Seokjin x Reader enemies to lovers | fluff, angst

Seokjin lives and breathes track. it’s his last year and as the star player he’s intent on ending with a bang, but when he’s supposed to be focusing the most you come crashing into his life. You’re rude, entitled, practically everything he hates and now he is forced to spend every moment where he could be getting better with you.

Ultimately Yours by @joheunsaram​ Ultimate Frisbee Seokjin x Resident Advisor Reader college au, exes to lovers | fluff, humour, angst, smut

Breaking up with Kim Seokjin might have been a mistake but when his stubbornness leads to him constantly creating messes for you, the only solution you can think of is finding another man. Good thing Yoongi is very agreeable, under the right threats.

All Or Nothing by @magicshopaholic​ Volleyball Idol Seokjin x Best Friend OC idiots/best friends to lovers | humour, part of a series

Seokjin has nothing against playing a spirited game of volleyball, especially with his best friend on his team, until he notices you're high-fiving one of your teammates a little too much.

Black Sea by @meirkive​ Water Polo Mermaid Seokjin x Reader college au, fantasy au, enemies to lovers | fluff, angst

Mermaids are assholes and Kim Seokjin, infamous captain of the water polo team of your college, is no exception. Handsome and full of himself to the point his ego probably needs a house of its own, much like the rest of his species, he believes he's better than humans and that he doesn't really need to get mixed with them other than for having fun at parties and to crush them during games. It's just your luck, then, when you have to work on a project with him for a whole semester.

Babyface by @nabiolive​ Wrestling Pro Wrestler Seokjin x Non-binary Pro Wrestler Reader rivals to lovers | angst, hurt/comfort

An up and coming pro wrestling company hires you to work alongside Kim Seokjin—a rising star in the industry, and everyone's favourite heel. His arrogance is dashed when he discovers you are not only talented enough to rival his skills, but that he can't stop thinking about you.

Thank you to all the writers for their hardwork and to you for supporting us! If you would like to be tagged in any of these fics please comment on this post so the writers that do tag readers are made aware!

Please reblog if you love Seokjin hehe 💕

#seokjin x reader #happy birthday jin #jin 30 for 30 #catch of the century #jin x reader #jin smut #jin angst #jin fluff #jin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff

[the-boy-meets-evil]

come sail away | ksj (18+)

pairing: seokjin x f. reader genre(s): enemies to lovers (one-sided) | smut, angst (light), fluff rating: explicit, minors DNI! word count: ~7.8k written for: catch of the century - thank you so so much for letting me participate! (and sorry my summary changed lol) summary: kim seokjin is the captain of a sailing team bound for one of the biggest regattas around. only one problem: that team also includes taehyung, who's incredibly accident prone. will he let you save the day despite your history? warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of past hook-up, seokjin is kind of an idiot, taehyung is clumsy, slight mention of side vmin smut warnings: explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, slight mentions of breast play?, they're both in control, reader calls jin baby one (1) time, i think that's it a/n: this fic was kind of a beast and i wish i'd gotten it posted by our beloved jin's birthday but what can you do? thank yous: @ugh-yoongi, @hot-soop, and @effortandmore for being wonderful friends and also keeping me sane/suffering with me (sorry jewel, i copied you)

Everything in the world has finally aligned. The stars and the universe and maybe one or two things closer to Earth. It’s not worth stopping to think about it too closely. Only one thing matters. Kim Seokjin has qualified for one of the biggest regattas in the world.

Well, his team has. But, he’s their captain, and the face of the team, if you will, so he’s taking this as his win. And when you stop to think about it, he’s hand-picked every person that he sails with, spent hours making sure that not only does he have the best people, but that they also work well together. He’s watched teams fold over a stupid argument and he’s determined not to fall victim to that. 

No, this team is perfect and he’s not letting anything stand in the way. They’ve had their ups and downs in the past, plenty of almosts. Not this time. This is their year and he can almost taste it. This is the year that other teams start taking his seriously and stop calling them almost.

Especially your team. Seokjin pictures your face when he finally beats you in a major regatta and it’s probably the best thing he’s seen, might even be better than sex. It’s been at least 10 years of you somehow managing to beat him when it really matters, sometimes in the final few minutes, and he’s had enough. 

The news calls for a celebration, at the very least. Actually, Seokjin would rather be planning and looking into conditions, making sure that they tackle this as best they can. Taehyung and Jungkook wanted to celebrate and Yoongi, the eternal sunshine that he is, didn’t care what they did. Since neither Jin nor Yoongi could ever dissuade Taehyung from anything, they were sitting at their favorite bar. 

Seokjin looks over at the door and sees the last person he’s expecting walk in. You. Sure, he’s riding a high from the news of making the cut and he’s several drinks in, but he still thinks that you could ruin the night. And you seem like you’re looking for someone, not like you just wandered in by accident, which sets his nerves on edge. Who are you looking for? As your eyes land on his table, he looks away immediately. No, you’re not raining on his parade.

“Who invited her?” Jin asks in a low, biting whisper. 

It’s Hoseok who speaks up after looking toward the door. “Oh! I did!” 

His voice is full of cheer, smile not even fading when Seokjin casts Hoseok his most venomous look. Maybe he’s not doing it right or maybe he’s just not as scary as he likes to imagine he is. Or Maybe Hoseok, who’s known Seokjin for nearly 20 years, isn’t bothered.

In another second, you’re at the table hugging Hoseok and smiling around at everyone else. Like you’re supposed to be there. Like this isn’t weird. Like you hang out with them all the time. Like you don’t hate him and wish nothing but bad fortune on him at every turn. Okay, maybe the last one is dramatic but you’re rivals for a reason.

“Congrats! Hobi told me you’d been selected,” you say and sit down close to Hoseok.

Seokjin almost can’t believe his ears. What kind of tactic is this? You can’t just be happy for them, that doesn’t line up with everything that he knows about you. Which, admittedly, isn’t all that much. He’s been around you plenty, sure, just never listened all that closely.

“Thanks,” Jungkook says easily.

“Looks like we’ll be going up against each other again,” Seokjin says with all the pride he’s felt the whole time.

“What?” Your eyebrows are knotted in confusion when he makes eye contact with you. It annoys Seokjin because what right do you have to be looking at him that way? Is this a game to you?

“In the Regatta?” Seokjin says, biting back the tone of annoyance as best he can.

“Oh, hadn’t you heard? I didn’t enter a team this year,” you say, your tone casual. You’re not even really focused, more worried about stealing some of Hoseok’s drink and then pulling up your face when it’s too sweet. Seokjin is searching for something deeper. Are you just testing him? Is this some kind of pity since you’ve beaten him so many times?

The only question that comes out of his mouth is, “why?”

“Well Eunji is pregnant so she can’t really train right now and Chan fell in love and said he wants to focus on that for now,” you say with a shrug. “I didn’t really have time to replace them with anyone I trusted, which is fine, there’s always next year.”

And there was always next year for you. It was like you made the cut every year, sometimes without even seeming like you were trying. It was infuriating to see you so casual about missing it this year. Seokjin’s sure he checked the teams competing, but maybe he hadn’t looked that closely. All he can do now is fight to make sure it doesn’t seem like he’s bothered by your lack of participation. 

With Seokjin so deep in his thoughts, he misses a lot of the next bits of the conversation. He doesn’t see you watch him for a moment before turning back to Hoseok. He doesn’t see Taehyung get up to seek out the pretty stranger he’s been watching across the bar. He doesn’t even see Yoongi order them another round until there’s a fresh drink in front of him, which he downs too fast. 

This night isn’t going anything like he expects. Well, except for Taehyung. His friend is nowhere to be found and there’s a text in the group chat not to worry about him. They aren’t scheduled to practice tomorrow so it’s not unlike him to run off with a pretty face. Seokjin spares a passing thought that it’ll be nice if this one lasts a little longer because Taehyung deserves that. Jungkook is trying to convince Yoongi to sing karaoke with him, which is never going to happen. Well, unless Yoongi wants to impress someone by busting out a rap. Doesn’t seem likely tonight. What Seokjin really needs is another drink.

“You seem particularly upset about me missing the Regatta,” a smooth voice says from beside Seokjin along the bar. He knows it’s you without turning and turns anyway, taking in your eyes alight with something he can’t place.

“It just seems like a shame, I feel bad you’re down 2 team members is all,” Seokjin says, hoping it comes out even.

“Mhm,” you hum, quiet enough that he might miss it if he weren’t still watching you.

Stupid of him, he thinks. There’s no reason to be watching you. At least not that closely.

“I don’t know what else you expect me to say,” Seokjin says and turns away towards the bar again.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” You ask, a little challenging, a little annoying, completely on brand for you.

“Nothing,” Seokjin says, trying and failing to unclench his jaw before the answer pushes out.

“Are you…mad I’m not competing?” You’re getting far too much delight out of this.

“You know it’s not the same if…” Seokjin starts and then clenches his jaw again, not wanting to give you the satisfaction.

“This whole competition thing is getting old,” you say with a sigh and Seokjin looks over again to see you really don’t seem engaged anymore.

“Not when we’re always competing,” Seokjin says and you shake your head.

“I win some, you win some, then it’s over and we have lives outside of the competition,” you say and Seokjin scoffs.

“Easy to say when you’re usually the one winning, at least the ones that matter,” Seokjin says and you move closer.

“I thought we’d worked on this, you know, when we…” you say.

“No, we’re not talking about that,” Seokjin says quickly, scanning to see if anyone else is listening.

Okay, so here’s the thing. The Big Secret that Seokjin doesn’t want anyone to know because it would ruin the image he’s carefully built up. Every chance he gets, he talks about not liking you, about thinking you’re evil and the enemy. And there’s no fraternizing with the enemy, that’s been rule number 1 as long as Seokjin has been captain. It’s inevitable that teams run into each other. There are only so many good areas to train and only so many places to spend your free time. That’s all fine. Anything beyond that breaks the rules.

Seokjin is a fucking hypocrite too, apparently, because he broke the rule in a pretty major way. It was late one night and the bar was emptying. Admittedly, he was feeling a little down because he’d just gone through a breakup and the one person he tried talking to at the bar was a resounding failure, not something Seokjin ever really experienced. He wasn’t drunk, just pleasantly buzzed, taking the edge off of what felt like two separate rejections. That was where you came in. Initially, it was any other time where you both jabbed back and forth before you realized that Seokjin really wasn’t in the mood. Then you listened.

You were actually a really good listener, Seokjin discovered. You were sympathetic, not judgmental at all, and you had good insight. You were patient too, as he rambled on repeating the same bits of the story because he was kind of angry about the whole thing. Nobody liked feeling rejected, but Seokjin took it especially personally. He invited you back to his apartment for another drink before even realizing what he was doing and you agreed just as quickly. 

Fuck, Seokjin was only human and even though he was one of the most stubborn people in the world, he wasn’t blind. You looked good that night, full lips painted red, big eyes looking up seductively under your thick lashes, leaning just a little too close into his space so he was sure to notice how good you smelled. He can’t remember who closed the gap first. It really might have been him. But he couldn’t bring himself to care when you felt that good.

He’d told you then that it couldn’t happen again and you definitely couldn’t talk about it. There was no way the rest of his team could not what happened. Not only would they never let him hear the end of it, it’d be harder to enforce any team rules too. Sometimes it seemed like you just wanted to bring it up to see his reaction. Or cause some sort of trouble if someone overheard you.

This time you just raise your eyebrows and work to control a smirk. “You’re no fun.”

Seokjin is torn about responding to this because on the one hand, he is really fun and he wants to say that. But that definitely leaves a door open that he’s not interested. Maybe. He’s probably better off ordering another drink.

The drink might actually be a bad idea because now he’s feeling bolder. Everyone in his group is otherwise engaged when he finds himself sitting next to you. He leans in without thinking, continuing the earlier conversation. “I think we both know that I’m very fun.”

He doesn’t have time to think about if it’s a good idea or not (it’s not) before you slowly turn your head to look at him, smirk back in place. Fuck. Instead of catching you off guard, he’s played right into your hand. You briefly suck your lower lip between your teeth, thinking. 

Before he can react, you’re leaning into him, lips close to his ear under the guise of it being loud in there (it is, but not that loud). The warm breath sends a shiver through him that he barely manages to contain.

“I think I’ve forgotten how much fun you can be, can you remind me?” 

The question is loaded. And it’s a terrible idea. Monumentally awful. Yet, Seokjin can’t even fight the heat that raises up the back of his neck at your words. He doesn’t trust himself to speak even once you’ve pulled back to study him from a much more respectable distance. All he can do is nod.  

The next moment, the spell seems slightly broken when you stand up and smile casually at nobody in particular. You announce you’re leaving, give out a few hugs, and leave without a backwards glance at Seokjin. He’s starting to think that he must have imagined the whole exchange. Or maybe it was real but you’re just toying with him. It’s stupid to think that anything is going to happen.

Then he gets a text message with an address and apartment code, telling you to wait at least ten or fifteen minutes before excusing yourself. That is, if you’re still up for the challenge.

It shouldn’t get his heart racing the way it does. Shouldn’t tempt him the way it does. One time can be a mistake, just a casual slip in judgment and nothing more. A second time gets a little more complicated. That’s not a mistake.

But Seokjin is just on the other side of buzzed and doesn’t really feel like making the right decision, whatever that is. He wants to feel good and he knows you can definitely do that. So he makes his exit as well, saying how he needs to make sure he still gets his beauty sleep and that he’s got things to do tomorrow. Nobody spares it a second thought and he’s on his way to your apartment. Again. 

He shows up at your door and you pull him inside without saying anything. It’s unusual for him to feel this out of his element, this unsure. You don’t seem to mind making up for it, pulling him straight back into your bedroom and lightly pushing him onto the bed. The next moment, you’re straddled over his lap, unbuttoning his shirt as you slowly kiss up his neck. He runs his hands up your thighs, squeezing when you nip at his neck. 

It’s too much and not enough, all at the same time. Seokjin moves one hand behind your neck to direct your lips to his, an urgency behind it. You kiss him hard and take advantage of his little gasp to slide your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. In the midst of the kiss, you finish unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his body. 

You break the kiss and lean back to appreciate his body and the smooth lines of muscle that tense under your fingers as they skim across his skin. You’re entirely in control and Seokjin can’t help but be turned on by it. It’s not that he minds giving up control, exactly, because he doesn’t. It’s just so much more to give up control to someone he’s not sure he even likes when you’re both fully clothed. His attention is back on you as you remove your shirt and unhook your bra, discarding both to the floor. 

You guide Seokjin’s plush lips to one of your breasts and he immediately flicks his tongue out against your nipple, earning a shudder in response. He takes his time with each breast before kissing up your chest to your neck. The kisses get messier, more frantic, more filled with need. Seokjin craves the skin to skin contact of your chests as he pulls you flush against him. With his hands still firmly gripping your hips, he feels when you start to slightly rolls against him. The material keeping the two of you apart isn’t nearly enough friction, but your movements have him getting hard.  

It’s not enough though. You’re stunning and Seokjin loves to hear the little moans that he pulls out of you. But he needs more. He puts his hands under your thighs and flips you around so your back is on the bed, head on a pillow. It takes you a second to realize what he’s doing and then you’re undoing your jeans, pulling them and your underwear down in one movement. The second they’re added to the pile of already discarded clothes, your hand is on the back of Seokjin’s neck, guiding him back to you. He only lets you nip at his lip once before he’s pulling away again. It’s pure pleasure to see you pout before he begins trailing kisses down your body. 

Once he reaches your inner thighs, you’re impatient again, trying to push his head where you need it most. But as fun as it is to see you needy, it’s even better to push you toward the edge. His tongue slowly reaches out, running lazily up your slit. And fuck, you’re wet. But he continues teasing, just slowly moving his tongue and ignoring your attempts to get him to move faster. Teasing you like this might be his new favorite thing.

The sounds you make as Seokjin finally licks into your cunt have him already hardening. They’re slow, purposeful movements, just enough to drive you even crazier. Your fingers grip tighter in his hair and your back arches when runs his tongue over your clit, sucking it into his mouth. 

“Fuck Seokjin, are you trying to kill me?”

He’s not, not really, he just really enjoys you squirming as he works you up. Enjoys taking his time with you, starting at a painfull slow pace. A thought that he’s not going to give too much attention. 

“Please, please, please, I need more,” you beg. 

Well, it’d be cruel to deny you that. He slowly inserts a finger while still focusing his mouth on your clit. Your hips buck against his hand and he knows it’s not enough, that it’s too slow, that you want him to go faster, but he keeps the movements slow. His finger slides in and out easily. Your want is so plain. He slides another finger in and you clench around him.

Fuck. He’s definitely straining against his pants now.

He doesn’t want to draw it out anymore, just wants to feel your release. He inserts another finger and curls them immediately. The moan that comes out at that is halfway to a scream and he knows he’s hitting where you need him. And he knows you’re close, just a little bit farther. He’s pumping his fingers in and out of you fast now, encouraged by your moans and the string of swears dripping from your lips, everything a half finished thought. He’s still working over your clit, alternating between a flick of the tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

Your other hand grips into his hair and your whole body starts to shake as you release. All he wants is to watch you unravel knowing that it’s thanks to him, but he continues pumping his fingers, guiding you though it. 

As soon as you come back down, you pull his face up to yours. Your lips are on his before he can think about anything else, both breathing heavy and not caring if the kiss is a little sloppy. Your hands leave his to quickly undo his pants and slide them down along with his boxers. Seokjin breaks the kiss to remove them the rest of the way. 

He can’t help the whine that escapes his lips when your finger slides over his tip, spreading the precum over the rest of his cock. And he’s thinking about those lips of yours wrapped around his cock again. Just like last time. Fuck, you’ve got such a pretty mouth. His cock twitches a little thinking about it. Or maybe it’s the way you start to work him over.

But no, he wants you and he wants you now. 

“Do you have a condom?” Seokjin asks and you raise an eyebrow, hand stilling.

You nod at the drawer. “In there.”

Seokjin pulls one out, unwrapping it and sliding it on as quick as he can.

“Someone is eager,” you say and he wants to protest.

And he would’ve, if you hadn’t pushed him back onto the bed. Any retort dying on his lips as he watches you straddle him, hands using his chest for stability. You don’t bother to ask if it’s okay as you line yourself up, his face must’ve told you all you needed to know. You slowly lowered yourself onto him and he gripped your hips hard, not even caring if he left a mark. Maybe he wanted to leave a mark, make sure you remember this night.

But fuck. He’d forgotten how good it felt to be inside you. Once you adjusted, you find your pace, slowly moving up and down. You’re rolling your body so smoothly as you allow him to come almost all the way out of you before sinking back onto his cock. Seokjin thinks how hot it is to look up at you while you fuck him. It’s dangerous too, having you on top of him like this, completely in control. It lets his mind wander, just slightly, to think of how he might actually like to do this much more. Might like to take his time with you. Spend the night.

No.

Pretending it’s just too slow, Seokjin flips the two of you so he’s hovering over you instead, caging you in with his much larger frame. You run your nails appreciatively over his broad shoulders and he shivers. He needs the pace to be faster, needs to get out of his own head. You either don’t mind or don’t notice the slight daze before Seokjin picks up the pace. 

It’s so fast, bodies slamming together and sweat starting to bead. You’re so tight around him that it’s like he can feel every movement and it only adds to the feeling. Even as your head tips back, Seokjin can’t stop looking at you. Memorizing the sight of you beneath him. Your hands slide down his sides and over his back to grip his ass and he groans again. He can tell your close by the way you’re meeting his thrusts, finding a perfect rhythm again and chasing another release.

You cum again, hard. Your nails are digging into him as the orgasm works through you and he has the fleeting thought hoping it’ll actually leave marks. Another thrust and he can feel himself at the edge. 

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” you say, voice completely fucked.

“Fuck me,” Seokjin utters because that was hot. And he liked it too much. He doesn’t remember you calling him baby the last time he fucked you.

He thrusts several more times and then stills inside you, breathing heavy from the pace. His arms feel shaky where they still hold him suspended over you.

“It’s okay Jin, you’re not gonna crush me,” you say, soft and almost sweet, gently running your fingers up his arms to his shoulders. 

He tries to scoff but instead, he just listens and lowers himself down onto your body. You’re both tacky with sweat and neither of you seems to care. It’s easy, far easier than it should be, to just lay there in bed with you. But that’s a problem for Tomorrow Seokjin. Tonight, Seokjin is just going to enjoy being in this moment as long as he can.

The last place that Seokjin wanted to go that night was a club that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a strip club judging by the poles at the edges of the dance floor. Not because he objected, he absolutely did not. It was just that he knew Taehyung’s new obsession was a dancer. Which meant that Jimin would probably dance on the pole. And that was fine, really, because he had mentioned classes. He knew what he was doing. Who couldn’t appreciate someone that moved with that much grace? Taehyung, on the other hand, did not know what he was doing.

Sadly, Seokjin’s objections fell on deaf ears and Taehyung tried to imitate the relatively intricate moves, including hanging upside down. Which resulted in him falling and having to be rushed to the hospital. 

He’s fine, thankfully. But now Seokjin is waiting in an emergency room and, not surprisingly, he wants to be here even less than he wanted to be at the stupid club. Honestly, when was Taehyung going to learn to listen to his hyung? 

Not today, that was clear.

“Your friend is going to be okay. He’s lucky and he didn’t actually break his neck,” the nurse says. She has overwhelming overworked and underpaid energy that Seokjin might feel bad about in any other situation.

“Good, so I can kill him still,” Seokjin quickly replies.

She leveled him with an unimpressed look. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“How long until he can leave?” Jimin asks. He tagged along despite Seokjin insisting they could handle it and has been weepy ever since the fall. He feels responsible despite everyone assuring him that it’s just what Taehyung does.

“We’re letting him go tonight but he absolutely cannot participate in whatever this sailing thing he’s been babbling about is,” she says and Seokjin thinks he must’ve misheard.

“It’s not a thing…” he starts before Yoongi cuts him off.

“We understand, thank you,” Yoongi says.

“Yoongi, you can’t be…” Seokjin starts.

“Leave it, Jin,” Yoongi says and the nurse raises an eyebrow like she’s actually entertained. 

“I’ll let you know when he’s ready to go,” is all she says, though, before disappearing back through the doors.

“What am I supposed to do?” Seokjin asks nobody in particular.

“Absolutely expect Taehyung to get on a boat after he fell on his head,” Jimin snips.

Seokjin is not in the mood. “Maybe you shouldn’t have done some super complicated move.”

“How was I supposed to know that he’d try to copy? I was trying to impress him,” Jimin whines and Seokjin just rolls his eyes. Anyone that’s known Taehyung for more than a second knows that he can’t ever leave something like that alone.

“You know what you’re going to have to do,” Yoongi says and Seokjin just looks at him.

“What?” Seokjin asks.

“Hyung, we need a fourth person for the team,” Jungkook says, eyes even wider than usual. He’s hardly spoken since getting to the hospital. 

“Yeah, and where the fuck am I supposed to find someone this close to the regatta?” Seokjin asks, running a hand through his hair and for once, not caring if it gets messed up.

“You’re kidding, right?” Yoongi asks, sharing a look with Jungkook that Seokjin isn’t entirely sure he likes.

“No?” Seokjin asks.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says. “You know there’s someone that could fill in. She’s got all the experience, and…”

Jungkook trails off but Seokjin catches the meaning. And now he knows that he doesn’t like that look. There is no way, no fucking way.

“No, absolutely not,” Seokjin says.

“Right, well I guess we’ll just have to forfeit unless Jimin here wants to try sailing out for the first time,” Yoongi says and turns kindly to Jimin. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jimin says with a shrug.

“We could ask Namjoon, he was out with us a couple summers,” Seokjin offers.

“Yeah and he slipped every time he was on the boat,” Yoongi scoffs.

“Hobi, then,” Seokjin says.

“He’s booked solid with work stuff and he hates being on the boat,” Jungkook says.

“You have to call her and at least ask,” Yoongi says. 

Seokjin’s stomach sinks knowing that you’re honestly the only option he has, at least if he wants a chance to actually win this thing. And he does. He’s been able to taste in since seeing they made the cut. He just doesn’t want to be trapped in close quarters with you training and then racing. 

“She hates us,” Seokjin says.

“No, you think you hate her for some reason,” Yoongi says and shakes his head. “I actually think she likes us fine.”

“Yeah she’s always nice when I run into her,” Jungkook agrees.

“How often do you run into her?” Seokjin’s question is sharp and Jungkook’s eyes go wide again.

“You know what? Let’s just vote,” Yoongi says, ignoring their captain. “Who thinks we should call her and ask?”

Jungkook’s hand immediately shoots up, followed by Yoongi’s and, to Seokjin’s surprise, Jimin’s.

“You don’t get a vote,” Seokjin says and Jimin scoffs.

“Rude, I’m voting for Tae,” Jimin says.

“It’s settled, I’ll call her if you won’t,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin tries to protest that this isn’t a democracy (it is), that there are other options (there aren’t), and that he’s not a coward (he is). But, Yoongi is right. If they want to win, you’re the only option. So Seokjin does the sensible thing and agrees to call you. (By that, he means he agrees Yoongi can call. Apparently, you say yes immediately and seem excited to get to race after all, given you lost half your team).

The next couple of weeks fly by faster than they should. Seokjin spends most of the time that he’s not training either ignoring Yoongi’s looks of superiority over how well you’re working out or ignoring your attempts to have a private conversation with him. Jungkook, who was nervous at first, seems to be getting far more entertainment out of it than anyone should.

Yoongi is actually harder to ignore because you have been a great addition to the team, fitting in like you had always been there. It’s hard to ignore your talent or why you captain your own team. Yet, you seem more than willing to let someone else in charge. Which makes Seokjin nervous when he considers it. Makes him wonder what sort of game you’re playing because everything with you is a game. When Seokjin tells Yoongi about his concerns, Yoongi just suggests, not for the first time, that Seokjin might need help. 

Jungkook is possibly even worse. From the first training session, he’s making conversation with you, asking personal questions, asking for tips. All this despite the fact that Seokjin has been training with Jungkook since the younger man was still a teenager. So much for loyalty. 

To this, Yoongi suggests that Seokjin really needs to work on his jealousy. It’s the most ridiculous suggestion of all and Seokjin wishes that he had some other friends. 

(Which, he does, but Namjoon is no help and Hoseok suggests there might be something else going on. Useless. Seokjin does not need them acting like they know what’s going on in his head when he doesn’t even know.)

After a particularly tough training session, Seokjin is considering that this may be the most cohesive team he’s entered in a race since he began sailing. It’s a weird thought and it feels a little like a betrayal to Taehyung to think it. But there’s also the voice in the back of his head that reminds him the most cohesive team could mean a win. Wouldn’t Taehyung be happy about that?

“We’ve really gotta talk,” you say and Seokjin curses himself for not checking his surroundings. He’d been so busy cleaning up that he hadn’t realized Yoongi and Jungkook had disappeared. Traitors.

He tries not to jump at the surprise, but he’s only got so much energy. “We talk all the time.”

“Seokjin, please,” you say. Plead, really.

And that’s…new. Seokjin has heard you say a lot of things in a lot of situations. He’s never heard you sound so raw. So defeated. 

“I just don’t see what we have to talk about outside of training and the regatta,” Seokjin says, avoiding your gaze.

“How about the fact that you hate me? Can we talk about that? Because I really don’t get it.” 

Now Seokjin does look at you because surely you’re messing with him. You must be. The rivalry has been fine and it’s been mutual all this time. Why change a good thing now? “You hate me too, I’m not really sure what’s so confusing about a rivalry,” Seokjin answers evenly.

“Hate you? What?” You look incredulous. 

“Yeah, it’s been pretty obvious,” Seokjin offers.

“To who?” You’re looking at him like he’s stupid and for the first time in his life, he wonders if maybe you’re right.

“Uhhhh…” Seokjin is usually so eloquent. What the fuck just came out of his mouth?

“Seokjin, you’re a fucking idiot,” you say and it’s confusing because you’re laughing. “Let’s forget the fact that we’ve literally slept together. Twice. I get how that could be confusing for this rivalry narrative in your head. I also agreed to help your team when Taehyung got hurt. Who does that for someone they hate? I mean, unless we’re talking some long game, sabotage shit.”

“Is that what we’re talking about?” Seokjin asks.

“We might be now,” you say, no longer laughing. 

“So you don’t hate me?” Seokjin ventures uncertainly.

“I didn’t, now I’m not ruling it out,” you say and gather your things quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, captain.”

And okay, that actually hurts Seokjin a little, to hear you use his title on the team instead of his name. He hadn’t realized how much he liked the way his name sounds in your mouth until you stop saying it. He’s also searching his brain trying to figure out exactly what just happened. 

He doesn’t like what he finds. All of the conversations from the last few weeks feel different now. As if someone shattered a piece of glass and now everything has changed. Instead of you and him bickering, he sees that maybe you were being endlessly patient as he stuck his foot in his mouth over and over. Instead of you challenging his leadership, he sees that maybe you were just trying to share your own experience in both training and competing. Instead of distaste, maybe you were just tired of the way things were.

Seokjin doesn’t often feel a step behind on anything, prides himself on that, actually. Now he’s several steps behind and he doesn’t know what to do to catch up. He faces the realization that he needs to have an actual conversation with you. 

Which ends up being impossible.

You’re the first one gone once training ends. Seokjin hadn’t even realized that you were always staying after Yoongi and Jungkook left, making sure that everything was where it belongs, until you weren’t. It had been such an easy silence to work in, in hindsight, and Seokjin had taken it for some kind of obligation. Like you owed him for giving you the chance to sail on the team. Or some sort of petty thing to show that you were better than him. Maybe you are. Not just at sailing, but also at dealing with people and emotions. 

Suddenly it’s the night before the Regatta kicks off and Seokjin has already done all the things he usually does to prepare. Everyone is checked into separate hotel rooms so they can carry out whatever routine they need to in peace. Taehyung and Jimin also got a room to share because Seokjin is a sucker and didn’t want to listen to Taehyung whine anymore about missing things. He’s checked the weather for the weekend (it’s going to be perfect, exactly what he wants to race in). The team is ready, Seokjin knows they’re ready. He’s never been this confident in a team. 

So why is he so unsettled?

He knows the answer, really. Has known it for a while if he’s honest with himself. But what he doesn’t know is how to fix it. Surely talking to you about the last real conversation you had the night before a set of huge races is a mistake. Surely he should be getting into bed, putting on something light, and just focusing on the race.

It’s not that easy.

The first race is definitely not Seokjin’s best. As in, he’s lucky that the rest of his team is so good at their jobs and able to pick up his slack. You still manage a win in the first round, but it’s not nearly as smooth as it should have been. This was one of the easier match-ups. 

Jungkook is confused, asking if Seokjin is okay, if he got enough sleep, if there’s anything he needs. Yoongi waves Jungkook off, saying he’s sure Seokjin is fine and it was just an off-race. There’s a glare in Seokjin’s direction when Yoongi assures Jungkook their captain will be better for the next race. You, however, remain silent, not bothering to look at Seokjin.

The next race, which is against a tougher team, doesn’t go any better. Everything feels off and Seokjin just can’t focus on making sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to be. More than once, Yoongi or Jungkook just get there in time to push him out of their way before making an adjustment to the sails or their course. And sure, technically three people can run the boat, but it wasn’t built that way at this level. 

After losing the second race, Yoongi tells you and Jungkook that him and Seokjin are going to have a conversation. You can grab something to eat and they’ll meet you under the tent as soon as they’re done.

“Seokjin, what the fuck?” Yoongi asks as soon as the other two are out of earshot.

“I know, I know. I’m just a little…off?” Seokjin can’t even find the right words. 

“Well no shit, man, but you’d better figure your shit out before the next race or I’m going to file for a substitution,” Yoongi says and Seokjin scoffs.

“And just who are you going to replace me with?” Seokjin challenges. He’s almost thankful for Yoongi now. He can do this. He can fight with his oldest friend about sailing.

“I don’t know, maybe someone that’s not so fucking stupid that he lets feelings get in the way of sailing,” Yoongi hisses.

“What? What are you talking about?” Seokjin is sputtering again. Great.

“Come on, Jin,” Yoongi says, going uncharacteristically soft for a second. “I know you have feelings for her. I know you must’ve had some stupid argument, probably about this made-up rivalry.”

“I didn’t think it was made up,” Seokjin says quietly.

“Then why did you fuck her?” Yoongi asks and then shakes his head. “Actually, I really don’t want to know.”

Seokjin is choking on air, eyes comically wide. “You knew?”

“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think,” Yoongi says with a sympathetic smile. 

“But it’s against the rules,” Seokjin says and Yoongi laughs. It’s not unkind, but it’s definitely like he knows something Seokjin doesn’t.

“Sure it is,” Yoongi agrees, placating Seokjin. “Just like it was against the rules when I was fucking Nayeon or Jungkook was fucking Dahyun.”

“What??” Seokjin’s question comes out choked and Yoongi claps him on the back.

“Point is, you can talk to her tonight if you need to. But for now, get your shit together,” Yoongi says, all business again. “You owe it to us.”

And that, more than anything, clears Seokjin’s head. It’s true. He does owe all of them to be present and actually help the team instead of getting in the way. The two of them join you and Jungkook a few minutes later with an entirely different energy. Seokjin is locked in. 

So locked in that they end up winning the next 3 races of the round-robin day. Including one where they were definitely down as the underdogs. It makes up for both the race they barely won and the one that they lost. 

Dinner is a lighthearted affair. Everyone is happy, including Taehyung and Jimin who join in. Taehyung has nothing but praise for the team, not seeming the least bit upset that he can’t be competing himself. As long as he’s included and the team is doing well, he’s happy. 

The only exception is you. You’re smiling when you feel someone’s eyes on you and answering any question directed at you, but you’re much quieter than usual. Seokjin doesn’t pause to consider that he knows what’s normal for you. Admittedly, he’s never been around you like this during a competition, but it’s not how you’ve been outside of training every other time he’s seen you. Usually, you’re the center of attention, cracking jokes and poking fun. Tonight, you’re much quieter, watching instead of actively participating. 

Seokjin isn’t really sure what the best thing to do here is. On the one hand, the second half of the day went off as perfectly as it could. It was smooth sailing, pun intended because Seokjin did love a pun. Yet, on the other hand, there’s still a bit of a pit in his stomach. He still feels something off between you and him. 

Maybe it isn’t the right thing to do. Maybe it’s going to hurt more than help. Maybe he should leave you alone. He can’t, though. And after dinner, he takes a couple of steadying breaths and goes to knock on your door.

“Jin?” You crack the door just a bit, not fully wanting to let him in.

“I know we’re all supposed to be in for the night, but I wanted to talk to you,” Seokjin says, slightly awkward. It’s more honest than he’s been.

It’s the first time he’s seen you look unsure about almost anything. After a moment, you open the door a little wider and step aside, allowing him into your space. Once he’s inside, you move back to sit on the edge of the bed, still looking unsure and a little vulnerable. You’ve got your hair tied up on top of your head and are wearing a baggy t-shirt with shorts, obviously ready for bed. 

“What do you want?” The question doesn’t sound aggressive, just exhausted. 

“To apologize,” Seokjin says simply.

“For how you sailed this morning? You’ve already apologized for that,” you say. 

“No, for that argument we had a few weeks ago,” Seokjin rushes out before he loses his nerve.

Whatever you were expecting, it’s not that. Your body language changes, just slightly. “Really?”

“I’m just…I’m sorry,” Seokjin says. “I don’t know why I’d built this whole rivalry up in my head. Probably just because you give me a hard time all the time or me being too competitive. And then I felt guilty I guess? About us sleeping together, I mean. Because we’ve got this rule on the team…”

You get up from the edge of the bed and come to sit on the arm of the chair next to Seokjin, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re rambling a bit.”

“I know,” he exhales.

“I’m not going to lie and say it’s all magically fine or that it didn’t hurt a bit,” you say. 

“I don’t expect you to,” Seokjin says and he means it. “Why did you stay?”

“On the team?” You wait for Seokjin’s answer and continue once he nods. “Because I couldn’t just leave you hanging.”

“I would’ve deserved it,” Seokjin nearly whispers.

“You would’ve,” you agree. “But Yoongi and Jungkook didn’t. So I stayed.”

“I know they’re thankful for that,” Seokjin says.

“And are you thankful?” Your eyes study his, looking for answers to more than just your last question.

“Of course I am,” Seokjin says.

“Because you still got to compete?” You’re pressing and he’s actually thankful.

“Well, no, because I like having you around,” Seokjin says and you open your mouth, but he carries on. “And no, not because of thinking we’re rivals. That was so stupid. I just like being around you. I like…too many things about you to list.”

“You could try,” you say and he looks up to see that sparkle in your eyes again, the one that’s only ever meant trouble. 

“I will do whatever you want me to,” Seokjin admits and watches the surprise on your face.

“A dangerous offer,” you observe.

Seokjin shrugs. “I’ll take my chances.”

“I don’t forgive you yet, just to be clear,” you say and Seokjin smiles. 

“I didn’t expect you to,” he says. 

Seokjin takes a chance, opening his arms to you slightly. And you want to ignore him, he knows you do, but he’s looking like the perfect cross between pitiful and hopeful. So you give in, slide down into his arms and settle into him. It’s nice, he thinks, because all he honestly wants is for you to be close to him after the last several weeks. You wind an arm around his waist, all curled up in his lap, and he rests his chin on your head, not even minding the way your hair tickles his face. 

It’s the most comfortable he’s been with anyone in ages, possibly ever. He knows that sometimes his words don’t come across the way he wants them to, knows that sometimes he can’t express himself. He hopes you can feel everything he can’t say while you sit like that. 

(You can, you tell him weeks later when you’re going on your third actual date. It’s only the third because you made him actually try to apologize again, properly when there wasn’t a regatta to finish. He obliges because he says you’re worth it. But his words don’t come much easier. Instead, he wants to show you he’s sorry. And you agree to let him.)

Everything after that feels impossibly light. If Seokjin thought the team was running as well as it could the day before, he was wrong. Now that he’s actually feeling lighter and you’re less confused about where you stand, it’s like all of you move in a way that wasn’t possible before. It’s hard to tell where one person ends and the next begins, which translates really well for the next day of races.

(It translates even better for the final day, a day that Seokjin never views as a guarantee. And although the team doesn’t come in first, it’s still probably the best finish Seokjin has ever had in an event this big. So he’ll take it, to the slight surprise of Yoongi and Jungkook, who are used to him always wanting to do better. Instead, he laughs and says that drinks are on him that night.)

Really, it’s all kind of silly. Seokjin put so much energy into a rivalry that was all in his head and didn’t realize how much it was coloring everything he did until taking a step back. Now he realizes just how much he was holding himself back over something that was so stupid.

For the first time, Seokjin is both excited about what’s to come in sailing and seeing what it is he can accomplish with you by his side.

i hope you liked it! please let me know any thoughts ❤️

#btscarnivalnet #kvanity #thebtswritersclub #seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #seokjin imagine #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #catch of the century

[thycursed]

Call me Bilbo 'cause i'm Baggin(s) all the babes

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #i wish i could bag thorin #catch of the century #boy really left that smial of his a bachelor and came back widowed

[hamsterclaw]

Allez

Seokjin's the latest fencer to join your parents' studio. He's competitive, beautiful and challenges you in ways beyond the foil.

My contribution to the Catch of the Century collab.

Pairing: Seokjin x F! reader

Genre: Fencer Jin AU, smut, angst

Rating: 18+

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Explicit sex, sexual innuendo, swearing

You unlock the doors to your parents’ fencing studio and the familiar smell hits you. It’s a mix of musty and sweaty, permeating the very pores of the building even though you don’t think the building’s that old. 

You switch the lights on and start pulling equipment out of the store room to set up for the day. 

A noise from behind you startles you. 

You turn to see a tall man standing awkwardly by the door. 

‘Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin. I start today?’ 

The way his voice goes up at the end makes it sound like a question. 

‘Nice to meet you,’ you reply politely. ‘I’m Y/N L/N, just setting up. My father said you were joining us today.’ 

Kim Seokjin is the latest trainee to join your father’s fencing school, and his reputation precedes him. He started fencing late, and he’s older than most of the trainees here, but he’s got a raw talent and work ethic that paid off when he ranked internationally last year. 

‘My father won’t be in for another half hour. Would you like to look around? The gym’s open,’ you offer. 

‘Do you want help?’ Seokjin says instead, gesturing to the cage of jackets and pants you’re about to wheel out into the main studio. 

‘I’ll be fine, I do this every day,’ you reassure him. 

He doesn’t seem to want to go, so you let him push the cage whilst you gather the collection of swords. 

‘Are you training for the Asian games?’ you ask, as you hang jackets and pants up on the rail. 

‘Yes,’ he says, almost like he’s embarrassed about it. 

You look at him curiously as you push the cage back in and head to the gym. 

You flick the lights on, watching for his reaction. 

The gym in your parent’s studio is huge, designed like a fencer’s wet dream. Both your parents represented the country, in foil events. Your father was a three-time Olympian, your mother was once top ranked in the world. 

You’d shown promise once, the only daughter of two fencing luminaries, and it’d broken your parents’ hearts when you’d given up aged 16 and prioritised running instead. You earned a track scholarship for university but haven’t competed since graduating. 

Turns out, you don’t really have much competitive spirit in you. 

Seokjin’s lips are moving, and you realise you’ve tuned him out completely. 

‘Sorry,’ you say apologetically, ‘what did you say?’ 

He’s about to repeat it when your father appears at the entrance to the gym. 

‘Kim Seokjin,’ he says, friendly, welcoming. ‘You’re early.’ 

‘I was just talking to Y/N,’ Seokjin says. His smile is pretty, warm, and makes you realise just how good-looking he is. You’ve seen pictures of him, of course, but most of the fencers in your parents’ school are tall, slim, athletic looking, physically blessed. 

You take a step back and nearly bump into Jeon Jungkook, another one of your father’s trainees, and one of your best friends. You both watch as your father leads Seokjin away to his office. 

‘What are you doing here so early Jungkook?’ you ask. 

He smiles at you, casual. ‘I thought I’d fit in a workout before training today.’ 

‘Yeah, you need more muscles,’ you agree. Jungkook pouts at you. 

You’ve known Jungkook since you trained together as teenagers, and it’s a running joke between you about how he hit twenty and then turned into a sexy, beautifully sculpted adult. 

‘When are we going running together?’ he asks, slipping off his sweatshirt. 

You grab the hem of his t-shirt to stop him from baring his abs as his t-shirt rides up. You know he already has a starring role in the fantasies of all the teenagers in your parents’ stable of trainees. 

‘When you can keep up,’ you reply, rolling your eyes at his cheeky grin. 

‘I can keep up,’ he says, waggling his brows, suggestive. ‘I’ve got stamina.’ 

‘You kiss your mother with that mouth, Jeon?’ you ask. 

Jungkook just grins and heads to the treadmill to practice footwork. ‘See you after work.’

***

Jungkook meets you at the café near your work at the end of the day. 

‘How’s the new guy?’ you ask, after you’ve ordered. 

‘I like him,’ Jungkook says. His stomach rumbles loudly. 

You reach in your bag and pass him a package of Pocky. 

Jungkook tears it open like it’s his last meal. 

You watch him crunch into the chocolate dipped sticks with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. 

‘Did you want some?’ he asks. 

You wave him off. ‘You look like you need it more than me.’ 

‘I’m going through a growth spurt,’ Jungkook says. 

‘You’re spurting something, that’s for sure,’ you agree, smiling when the tips of his ears turn red. 

‘So tell me about Seokjin.’ 

‘Why do you want to know?’ Jungkook asks. He smiles at the waitress who’s delivering your drinks and she nearly spills the water, she’s so busy looking at him. 

‘Why won’t you tell me?’ you counter. 

‘His footwork is insane,’ Jungkook finally says. ‘He looks like he’s floating. Also he judges distance like no one else.’ 

‘Nice,’ you say. ‘You think he’ll get on the national team?’ 

‘He might beat me to it,’ Jungkook says, but he doesn’t sound in the least worried. 

Your lack of competitive spirits were what made you get on so well when you first met, two outliers in a cohort of fiercely competitive fencers. 

Jungkook’s still doing it though, his physicality is incredible. You were the competitive runner, but you think he might beat you in a distance run. Without trying. With a snack in his mouth. 

‘Hye-mi asked him out,’ Jungkook informs you, spearing a chip from your plate and stealing it before you can stop him. 

‘Yeah?’ you ask. 

‘He turned her down,’ Jungkook tells you. His eyes flick to yours. ‘Is that the info you wanted?’ 

Your whole face feels warm. 

Jungkook laughs softly. 

‘Do you have a crush, Y/N?’ 

‘Shut up, JK.’ 

***

The next morning, you’re wiping down gym equipment when Seokjin approaches you. 

‘Do you mind if I use the treadmill?’ he asks. 

You’re surprised to see him here so early again. 

‘Of course, you don’t have to ask me,’ you say, smiling. 

You’re cleaning, but you also can’t help watching as he practices his footwork. 

Jungkook had been right. He’s quick, light on his feet, making it look almost effortless as he advances. 

He turns suddenly, and you’re treated to the straight line of his spine where his thin t-shirt is stuck to his back. God, his back. He’s worked up a sweat already. 

You’re working up a sweat just watching him. 

You realise he’s looking at you in the mirrors, and you turn away abruptly. 

You have more to clean in the gym but you don’t think it’s good form to be caught ogling Kim Seokjin, and so you head for the equipment store. 

Your father calls you into his office as you pass. 

‘Your mother wants to cook hotpot tonight,’ he tells you. 

‘Ok, I’m free,’ you say, mouth-watering at the thought of your mother’s delicious broth. 

‘I’m inviting Kim Seokjin,’ your father tells you. 

‘Ah sure. Can I invite Jungkook? He loves hotpot.’ 

Your father laughs. ‘I’ll ask your mother to pick up extra beef.’ 

‘I can get dessert,’ you say. ‘Seven thirty?’ 

‘See you later,’ your father replies. 

***

Jungkook’s sniffing at the cardboard box containing the cheesecake you picked up. 

‘Stop that. We don’t all need Kookie germs,’ you tell him, stepping a little closer so that passersby don’t bump into him on the busy street you’re both navigating. 

‘I’ll give you Kookie germs,’ Jungkook mutters. His arm tightens against his side as a large group of drunk looking men pass you, pulling you closer. 

‘It’s barely 7,’ you say, outraged, staring at the men. 

‘No time limit on fun,’ Jungkook replies. ‘Apart from when it’s you and then there’s never any fun.’ 

You laugh at his rudeness. ‘Want me to carry the cake?’ 

‘Yes, but I also want to be the one to give it to your mom,’ Jungkook huffs. 

‘She already loves you,’ you say, rolling your eyes. ‘Oh, by the way, Kim Seokjin’s coming for dinner.’ 

‘I hope there’s enough beef,’ Jungkook says, worried. 

You take the box off him. ‘I’ll hold the cake, you stand in front of me so no one bumps us.’ 

Jungkook frowns. ‘Why did we have to come here for cake?’ 

‘You know it’s the best cheesecake,’ you say. ‘Sometimes you have to put in the work to get the best.’ 

‘Really?’ Jungkook asks, smile cocky. 

‘And that’s why we’re never sleeping together,’ you joke. 

Jungkook laughs and whines at the same time. ‘I already offered to give you Kookie germs,’ he tells you. 

‘Sperm is actually sterile,’ you inform him. ‘Come on, hurry up, we don’t want to be late.’ 

‘My sperm isn’t sterile. It’s full of little Kookies,’ Jungkook says. 

You burst out laughing. ‘I’m glad we’re getting this out of our system before we have to behave in front of Kim Seokjin and my parents. I meant there’s no germs in sperm.’ 

‘Want to see for yourself?’ Jungkook offers, but he’s already hailing the bus, ushering you on. 

The cake makes it to your parents’ in one piece, and you pass it quickly to Jungkook before reaching for your keys. 

The door opens before you can get the keys in the lock, and Kim Seokjin’s standing there, looking at you and Jungkook. 

‘Hi,’ you say, smiling brightly. 

He smiles back. ‘Need a hand?’ he asks Jungkook. ‘I brought dessert too.’ 

In a moment both you and Jungkook are standing in front of the beautiful layer cake Seokjin’s brought. 

‘Nobody likes a try-hard,’ Jungkook mutters. 

You nudge him, hard. 

‘It looks beautiful, Seokjin.’ 

Your mother greets Jungkook like he’s her long-lost son, ushering him away to help her in the kitchen, leaving you and Seokjin standing in a corner of the dining room. 

‘I didn’t know you and Jungkook knew each other,’ Seokjin says. 

‘We used to train together when I fenced,’ you tell him. ‘Before I gave up.’ 

Seokjin looks down at you, and you sense he has questions, everyone you tell usually does, but all that comes out is, ‘I like training with your father.’ 

‘I’m glad. He thinks highly of you,’ you tell him. 

Something occurs to you. ‘If you want, I can come earlier in the mornings to open up so you can work out.’ 

‘Don’t you have another job?’ Seokjin asks. 

At your curious look, he says, quickly, ‘Your father said you have another job, which is why you open up in the morning and he locks up at night.’ 

‘I do, but I don’t mind coming in a bit earlier. I’m up anyway,’ you say. 

‘If you really don’t mind, I’d like to have an earlier start on Wednesdays,’ Seokjin tells you. 

‘Done. I’ll come in earlier tomorrow,’ you tell him, smiling. ‘Does 6am suit you?’ 

‘That would be great,’ Seokjin says. ‘Thank you.’ 

Jungkook emerges from the kitchen. ‘Hotpot’s ready.’ 

You’ve barely filled your bowls when you see a gleam in your mother’s eye as she looks at Seokjin. 

You know what’s coming next, so you intercede smoothly. 

‘What do your parents do, Seokjin?’ you ask. 

Your mother’s mouth snaps shut. 

‘My mother was an accountant, my father is in the shipping business,’ Seokjin answers. You get the sense he’s as used to answering these questions as your parents are used to asking them. 

‘Which school did you go to?’ Jungkook asks, just about managing to look serious despite his mouth full of beef brisket. 

Seokjin shoots you and Jungkook the universal trapped look familiar to anyone who’s ever been interrogated by an Asian parent. 

‘I went to school outside Seoul and then I did my business degree, which is when I got into fencing.’ 

‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ you ask, on your mother’s behalf. 

‘Or a boyfriend?’ Jungkook asks. 

Your father eyes you and Jungkook warily. ‘I’m sure Seokjin wants to enjoy his food instead of answering all these very personal questions,’ he says, pointedly. 

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Seokjin says. ‘I’m single.’ 

He looks at you. ‘Are you single?’ 

‘I’m single,’ you say, and he smiles.

‘Good.’ 

You can feel your face heating up, and are thankfully saved by your mother’s tongue click of disapproval. ‘But you and Jungkook ---’ 

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook pipes up. ‘What about us, Y/N?’ 

Your father gets up. ‘I’m going to get more meat to put on the grill.’ 

You put your beef on Jungkook’s plate so he’ll shut up. 

‘Jungkook’s had a lot of girlfriends, mama,’ you tattle. 

Your mother’s eyes widen as she looks at Jungkook, whose eyes are equally wide but whose mouth is full of beef preventing him from saying anything. 

Seokjin chuckles quietly to himself. 

‘The broth is delicious,’ he tells your mother, taking pity on Jungkook. 

You take advantage of their moment of distraction to steal your beef back from Jungkook’s plate. 

***

On Wednesdays you go in early to open up the studio for Seokjin and finish your other job at midday so you can help out at the studio. 

You’re passing through when Mira, another fencer who trained with you and Jungkook, grabs you. 

‘Can you practice with me?’ she asks. ‘I need a challenge today. It’s you or Jungkook.’ 

‘What’s Jungkook doing?’ you ask. 

‘He was cornered by his fan club,’ Mira says, rolling her eyes. ‘He stripped his top off in the gym and I haven’t seen him since, just heard the screaming.’ 

‘Ugh,’ you say. ‘Let me get dressed. I’ll be there in five.’ 

You have your own fencing gear still because you often step in to train the younger trainees, especially on Wednesdays, or if there’s a match and your parents are unavailable. 

You get dressed and warm up with Mira. 

‘Ready to get your ass kicked?’ you ask. 

Mira laughs. ‘I miss your shit talk.’ She pulls on her face guard and clips her body cord on. ‘Try and catch me, Y/N.’ 

You used to fence with Mira all the time as trainees, although there are no weight classes, she’s roughly your size, the size you all were before Jungkook hulked out. 

You get into first position and another trainee, Ji-lin, calls out the orders. 

Mira’s fast, quicker than she was, and you haven’t fenced competitively in years. She scores three points in quick succession whilst you’re still finding your feet. 

‘Where’s that ass-kicking?’ she taunts, and you smile despite yourself. 

You’re not a competitive person in general, but you enjoy fencing. 

It’s combat, but it’s also graceful, beautiful. 

You’re so relaxed you almost feel like you’re water. 

Mira’s quicker than you, but you’ve also always found her predictable. The only reason she gets away with it is because of her speed. 

You parry and feint and land a beautiful jab to the centre of her chest, retreating almost before she realises she’s been hit. 

The next three points are yours, and you’re not worried because you know you’ve got this. 

You fight hard for the next few points, and land another on her shoulder as she tries to retreat. 

You’re 14-14. 

Dimly, you realise you have an audience of more than Ji-lin. 

‘Ready for your ass-kicking?’ you ask Mira. 

She laughs, slightly muffled through her face guard, but you can hear her loud and clear. ‘Bring it.’ 

You haven’t done this in years, but muscle memory alone helps you remember. 

You hear Ji-lin call out, and then you’re up, advancing towards Mira. You see the tell-tale movement of her foot and know exactly what she’s up to. As soon as she lunges, you dance back and tap her on the shoulder. 

The buzzer sounds, and your green light comes on. 

You greet each other from the ends of the piste and are about to pull your helmet off when another fencer approaches. 

The fencer’s tall, much taller than you, which puts you at a disadvantage, but you’re so high off of your victory over Mira you don’t mind. 

You nod and get into position. 

Mira pulls off her face mask, giving you a thumbs up as the other fencer attaches the body cord to their foil jacket and their weapon. 

She nods to you. ‘Ok to go ahead with another match?’ 

You nod. You’re not tired in the least, and your adrenaline’s still running high. 

‘En garde, pret, allez,’ calls Mira. 

You watch the other fencer as they advance towards you, hoping to catch a clue. 

There’s a familiarity to their footwork. You’ve seen it watching them on TV, and, with a jolt, you realise you saw it more recently than that, in the gym. 

You try to parry, but the tip of the blade’s already touched your foil jacket. 

You can’t see Kim Seokjin’s face, but you know it’s him. 

He scores three more points in quick succession, taking them from you before you get your head in the match. 

You wonder, idly, if Seokjin knows it’s you. 

You think that you should probably think about that another time before you get your ass beat. 

You score two points purely because he wasn’t expecting you to come at him. 

You switch styles, a trick your mother taught you, useful for confusing anyone who’s watched you and thinks they know your fencing. 

Knowing your distance has always been your strength, you can be as aggressive or defensive as you like and still score when it counts. 

You score another two points, but you can already tell you’re not going to win. He’s stronger, faster, and he seems to be keeping up with you perfectly well.  

Your ankles clash as you lunge carelessly at him, and your momentum sends you tumbling sideways. 

He reaches out quickly to grab you, lowering you to the ground gently. 

He pulls off his face guard, and you’re greeted by his stunning face, flushed and sweaty. 

He doesn’t seem surprised when you take your own face guard off. So he had known. 

‘How’s your ankle?’ he asks, worried. ‘We clashed pretty hard.’ 

‘It’s ok,’ you reply, rubbing it gingerly. ‘I’ll just put some ice on it.’ 

He unclips himself, and you, and lifts you in his arms before you get a chance to protest. 

‘What are you doing?’ you squeak, torn between embarrassment at being handled like a child and the sudden urge to bury your face in his broad chest.

‘I’ll take you to the medical room,’ Seokjin says. 

‘I can walk,’ you say, dryly. 

‘What if I wanted to impress you with how strong I am?’ 

Your face is burning, your heart beating so fast you think you’re going to pass out. 

‘I know you’re strong. We were fencing,’ you say, faintly. 

‘I’m bigger than you. I shouldn’t have gone so hard,’ Seokjin says, sounding more like he’s rebuking himself. 

‘There are no weight classes in fencing,’ you reply. 

His only answer is to shift you in his arms, pulling you in closer to his chest. 

At this angle, it would be more awkward to pull away, so you let your head rest on his chest. 

Seokjin deposits you on the couch in the medical room and opens the fridge for an ice pack. 

You start undoing the laces on your shoes. 

‘Just lean back,’ Seokjin chides. He pulls your shoe and sock off gently, and hands you the ice pack. 

You try not to think about the fact that like this, your foot is propped between his thighs. 

His thighs in tight fencing pants. 

Shit, don’t think about what else is between his thighs…..

Seokjin’s voice is amused. 

‘What are you staring at?’ 

‘Nothing,’ you squeak. 

Seokjin gets up. ‘I was just going to have lunch. There’s a little place around the block I like. Do you want to come with?’ 

‘S-s-sure,’ you say, wondering if you’re dreaming. Maybe you’d knocked your head and you just haven’t realised it yet. 

Maybe you’ll wake up and you’ll just be on the floor of the studio and ---

‘Hey,’ Seokjin says, his voice pulling you out of your little spiral. ‘I can carry you there if you want.’ 

‘No, I’ll walk,’ you say. You put some weight on your sore ankle. ‘I’m fine.’ 

***

You are not fine, but Kim Seokjin is. He is damn fine. 

He’s changed out of his fencing gear and into the usual loose tee and sweats he comes to the studio in, and he really shouldn’t look as fine as he does. 

‘What are you doing on Saturday night?’ he asks. ‘My friend Yoongi’s doing a gig, I was going to go support him. It’s probably the last night in a while I’ll get off before I really need to focus on training for the Asian Games.’ 

‘I don’t have plans,’ you tell him. 

‘So do you want to come?’ Seokjin asks. ‘If not I can meet you before.’ 

‘I’d like to come.’ 

Seokjin looks pleased. ‘I’ll pick you up.’ 

You’re glad your choice of attire seems to fit right in at the club Seokjin’s friend Yoongi is performing at. 

Seokjin hands you your drink and stands next to you. He’s dressed up for tonight, and he looks so pretty you’d be intimidated if it weren’t for the horrific puns he’s been dropping on you since he picked you up. 

His hair’s styled back from his forehead instead of flopping into his face. The button-up shirt he’s got on is unbuttoned over a crisp white shirt. 

You’d known he’s taller than you, of course, but you hadn’t realised how attractive you’d find it. 

Seokjin nods. ‘How’s your drink?’ 

‘Yeah, it’s great, thank you.’ 

‘You look really pretty,’ Seokjin tells you. 

You look down at your clothes like you hadn’t agonised for a half hour.

‘How do you know Yoongi?’ you ask. 

Seokjin puts out an arm in front of you as a group of men pass by, too close.  

‘Went to school together,’ he says. ‘Did you go to school with Jungkook?’ 

‘He came to train with my parents when he was a kid,’ you tell Seokjin. ‘We used to compete together.’

‘Why did you give up fencing?’ 

He seems genuinely curious. 

‘Wasn’t good enough,’ you say. 

Seokjin looks at you searchingly. 

‘I didn’t want it enough,’ you amend. 

He nods. ‘That’s fair. I used to envy all the fencers who got early starts.’ 

You say, ‘It seems like you’re doing ok.’ 

You’re teasing him, of course, he’s a phenomenal fencer, and he’s got time to make his mark. 

‘I kicked your ass today,’ he agrees. 

You laugh. ‘Look at the size of you.’ 

‘Didn’t realise you were looking,’ says Seokjin, and there’s a flash of heat in his gaze. 

Your heart starts to pound faster. 

His eyelids lower just a fraction, enough that he looks devastatingly sleepy-eyed, lazy, when he says, ‘I’m sorry about your ankle.’ 

It’s hard to think when he’s looking at you like that. 

Thankfully, the MC announces that Daegu’s very own Suga will be taking the stage, so you don’t have to muster enough voice to reply. 

Seokjin’s friend Yoongi has a raw power to his voice, a kind of irresistible, sexy energy that draws you in even when it looks like he’s making barely any effort. 

You’re kind of glad you never went to school with either of them. 

After his performance, Seokjin takes you backstage to meet him. 

Yoongi greets Seokjin with affection. His forehead still gleams with sweat, his hair is saturated with it. 

He smiles politely at you as Seokjin introduces you. 

You compliment him on his performance as Seokjin goes to get more drinks.

‘Seokjin says he went to dinner at your parent’s house the other day,’ Yoongi says. 

‘You can come too,’ you say, not missing a beat. ‘My mom’s broth is delicious.’ 

Yoongi laughs. ‘Sure, I’d love that.’ 

‘Will you be around for the games?’ you ask. 

‘I’ll probably try to be around if Seokjin competes,’ Yoongi says. 

‘Great, I’ll see you there, then. My friend Jungkook’s going to the qualifying rounds as well.’ 

‘Perfect, you can explain the rules to me,’ Yoongi says. 

You can’t imagine watching fencing with someone who doesn’t know the rules. 

‘Ah, damn. Now I’ve fallen in your estimation,’ Yoongi says, softly. 

You can’t help but laugh. ‘It’s ok, I can’t perform like you can.’ 

Seokjin returns. 

‘I’m coming to dinner at Y/N’s mom’s house next time,’ Yoongi informs him. 

‘And he’s coming to watch you fence,’ you say. 

‘Great, you can explain how it all works to him. He doesn’t listen to me,’ Seokjin says, easy. 

Yoongi laughs. ‘You’re too busy complaining about how I never listen to actually teach me anything.’ 

You tune out as the boys argue good-naturedly. 

Seokjin gets your attention with a hand on your shoulder. ‘We should get going. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’ 

He drops you off outside your apartment. 

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘I had a great time.’ 

Seokjin grins. ‘Me too. We should go to Yoongi’s next gig.’ 

‘Love to.’ 

Seokjin gets out of the car, but you’ve already opened your own door. 

‘Should I walk you to your door?’ he asks. 

You can’t stop a giggle. Your door is barely two metres from where you’re parked. 

‘I think I’ll be ok, you know.’ 

Seokjin leans over you a little. 

His lips are close to yours, pink, plump, pretty. 

‘Night Seokjin,’ you say, looking at him. 

‘Night, Y/N,’ he replies. He leans down to kiss you on the cheek. 

It’s sweet, warm, and he smells so good your heart does a backflip. 

It’s the perfect end to the night. 

***

Your voice is hoarse from cheering Jungkook on through the qualifying rounds. Seokjin, who’s higher ranked nationally and internationally, is only just fencing his first bout now. 

He cuts a beautiful figure as he walks through the arena in his fencing whites, tall and lean. With his fencing mask off, his gorgeous face is on show, and you can see heads turning as he passes. 

He stops in front of where you’re seated, eyes scanning through the people around you. When he sees you his face breaks into a smile, and your heart flutters. 

Your own smile is bright, happy. You probably look idiotic smiling at him like this, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

He lays his bag on the ground, pulls out a foil and starts warming up. 

Beside you, sweaty Jungkook chugs water and nudges you. 

Despite his sweatiness, you put an arm around him. 

‘You’re doing amazing, JK, you’ll make the team for sure.’ 

His trademark shy smile is so bashful you think you can hear a collective sigh from the room. 

Your friend is a heartstopper, for sure. 

‘Well, there’s two rounds to go,’ he mumbles, faux-modest. 

‘That’s true,’ you say, seriously. ‘And Wang Jinsong is strong today.’

His brows furrow, and his lips are already pouting when you laugh. 

‘You’ll be fine, JK.’ 

Seokjin’s bout starts, and he lunges forward, aggressive, quick, skilled. 

You wonder if his fencing style reflects his personality. He’s quick but calculated, a distinct style evident in his movements and approach. 

At the end of his bout, which he wins with ease, he barely looks like he’s broken a sweat. 

You’re impressed, and you should be more impressed by his skill than his thighs but damn his thighs are beautiful, long, lean, muscled. 

You’re heading down to congratulate him when he’s approached by a fellow fencer. She takes her mask off, long hair swinging, and smiles at him. 

Seokjin seems happy to see her, he’s smiling back. 

They look striking together, both tall, long-limbed, beautiful. 

‘Looks like you have competition,’ Jungkook says, unhelpfully, and you grab his arm. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ you say, a confidence in your voice you don’t feel. 

Jin turns to you as you and Jungkook approach. 

‘Hey,’ he says, warmth in his voice. 

He exchanges congratulations with Jungkook. 

‘So, are we on for a drink later?’ asks the tall girl. 

‘Sure,’ Jin says, easily. 

You work hard to keep any of your emotions showing on your face. 

‘You did amazing, Jin,’ you say. 

‘Thanks,’ Jin says. 

There’s a bit of an awkward pause, and you turn to Jungkook. ���So I should help you get ready.’ 

Jungkook’s quick sometimes when he wants to be. ‘Sure,’ he says. 

You leave Jin and the tall girl standing together whilst you walk off with Jungkook. 

‘Want me to kick his ass in our bout?’ Jungkook offers, after a moment. 

‘For what?’ you scoff. ‘It was just a kiss, and he’s just going for a drink with a girl with legs longer than my entire body. No biggie.’ 

Jungkook laughs, and a moment later, you’re laughing too. 

***

You do not know how Jungkook managed to convince you to come out tonight. 

You’re more than happy to congratulate him and Jin for getting on the national team for the Asian games, but you do not need to see gorgeous Jin getting off with tall girl, who also made the women’s team. 

You’re the least decorated person in the bar. Normally that would be fine with you, but your confidence is low tonight. You’re wearing a short skirt that would look a lot better if you had longer legs. 

You collect a round of drinks and bring them to Jungkook, Mari and your friends. 

In your absence at the bar, Seokjin and tall girl, whose name you now learn is Jihyo, have both joined your table. 

You’re trying not to look to closely at how close they’re standing to each other. 

‘I’ll get more drinks,’ you say, putting the tray down. 

‘I’ll come with,’ Jin says. He looks at Jihyo. ‘Usual?’ he asks. 

You don’t want to know how he knows her usual drink. 

There’s a bit of a wait whilst the bartender makes your orders. 

You look at the bottles lined up behind the bar like they’re the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. 

Jin clears his throat. ‘You look beautiful.’ 

You turn to him, expression carefully blank. ‘Thanks, Jin. Congratulations on getting on the national team.’ 

‘Thanks.’ 

You’re in damage control mode. You’re not going to ask him how he knows beautiful Jihyo. 

Probably they fenced together at one point. 

You very much hope so and also that she kicked his ass, unlike you. 

‘Need a hand?’ asks the gorgeous bartender. He nods to your full tray, smiling at you. 

Jin clears his throat again, stepping forward. ‘Thanks, I’ve got it.’ 

You fall into conversation with the person next to you, a pink-haired man with silver earrings and a flirty grin called Jimin. 

He invites you to dance with him, and you’re tipsy enough to say yes. 

You catch glimpses of Jungkook and Mari as Jimin whirls you around the dancefloor.

You’re coming out of the toilets when you run into Seokjin again. 

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I haven’t seen much of you tonight.’ 

‘I’m here now,’ you reply, lightly. 

‘Yeah. Want to go somewhere a little quieter?’ he asks. 

You step out into the cool night air with Seokjin. 

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘There’s a dessert place down the block. Want to get ice cream?’ 

You’re not sure about Seokjin’s taste in ice-cream but he sure looks pretty eating it. 

He swallows a bite, throat working, and you avert your eyes. 

‘I’m really glad I get to celebrate getting on the team, here with you,’ he says, suddenly. 

You smile at him. ‘Me too. I won’t keep you long, I know you probably want to get back.’

Seokjin frowns a little. ‘Do you want to get back to the club? Because I’d rather be here, with you.’ 

‘What about your friends?’ you ask. 

‘Hey, I owe you,’ Seokjin says, jokingly. ‘You opened the school at six am for months to give me extra training time.’ 

You try not to look too disappointed at his words. 

‘I was happy to do it,’ you say. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’ 

Seokjin laughs quietly. ‘I’m saying all the wrong things, aren’t I? I just want to spend time with you, because I like your company and I think I won’t have this opportunity in the coming few months up to the games.’ 

‘I like spending time with you too,’ you say, honestly. 

‘Great. That’s settled then.’ 

Your phone starts buzzing. It’s a drunk and hungry Jungkook. 

‘Are you ok?’ he hollers into the phone. ‘Where are you? I can’t see Seokjin either!’ 

You roll your eyes at Jin. ‘We’re at an ice cream place, down the road. Do you want ice-cream?’ 

Jungkook slumps next to you as Seokjin gets him ice-cream. 

‘Am I cockblocking you?’ he asks quietly, eyes bright. 

You laugh. ‘You should ask Seokjin that. Anyway, we need to look out for each other, and you’re too drunk to go anywhere alone right now.’ 

Jungkook perks up as Seokjin comes back with ice-cream for him. 

‘Am I cockblocking you?’ he asks. 

Seokjin, to his credit, just smiles. 

‘I’ll get you ice-cream anytime, Jungkookie.’ 

After you’ve deposited Jungkook at home, you turn to Seokjin. 

You’re about to ask if he’ll be ok getting home when he leans close, head dipping to bring his face closer to yours. 

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks. 

You slide a hand around his neck, pulling him closer still. 

He swivels a little so he can face you straight on, and his lips capture yours in a kiss. 

He tastes better than all your fantasies, caramel sweetness and the cherry chapstick you’ve seen him use sometimes. 

You sometimes tease him about it, ask him which teenager he stole it from. 

There’s nothing innocent about the way he licks into your mouth, the press of his hips against yours. 

‘Want to come over to mine?’ he asks. 

***

Seokjin drops his bag of foils by the entryway of his loft-style apartment. 

You lean against the front door. You started off wanting to look around but now you’re just looking at him.

He’s so pretty, with his perfect skin, his hair pushed back from his gorgeous face.

He tilts his head, smiling at you.

‘You can come in,’ he says, sounding amused.

He takes a step towards you, then another.

Now he’s so close you have to tilt your head back to see his face. 

‘Seokjin,’ you say, nervous. 

‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you home right now if that’s what you want.’

You search his eyes. Then you put a hand on his chest.

Seokjin leans down. He’s still smiling as he kisses you. His lips are soft, gentle, undemanding.

Your own lips part under his, and in the end it’s your tongue that slips into his mouth first.

He lets you taste him, one hand gentle on your hip, his other hand cupping your jaw, fingers sliding under your hair.

You’re so lost in the taste and feel of him that it takes you a moment to realise you’re pressed against his front, fisting handfuls of his shirt.

He doesn’t seem to mind. 

His lips are flushed from your kisses. He kisses your forehead when you pull away, and you wrap an arm around his neck, tugging him down so that your lips meet again.

His hand slides up your side, higher and higher, and at the first pass of his thumb over the curve of your breast, you moan softly. You’re panting a little, sticky and wet with arousal, and your clit throbs. You roll your hips against his, seeking stimulation, and feel the hard length of him against your belly.

Seokjin’s kissing down your neck now, humming against your skin. God, he feels good. The suction of his lips drags another moan from you. 

He pulls back, admiring the mark he’s made on your skin. ‘My bed’s in there,’ he says.

As he turns, the profile of the bulge in his groin sends a gush of wetness between your thighs.

Fuck. You want it, you want him. 

He smiles at you, like he hasn’t just caught you staring at his erection.

When he holds out his hand, you take it.

Seokjin takes you to his bedroom. He says, ‘Come sit.’

You sit next to him on his bed. He doesn’t give you any time to feel awkward, sliding his arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

His kisses are drugging, slow and languid and luring you into a pleasured haze. You have no idea how long you’ve been kissing for when you become dimly aware of the wetness between your thighs, the throbbing of your clit.

Seokjin grunts as your hands explore his body.

God, he feels so good.

You ask, hand flat on the broad expanse of his chest, if he can take his shirt off.

Seokjin unbuttons his shirt obligingly. You tug your dress over your head.

He gazes at you, frank admiration in his eyes. ‘You’re really pretty.’

You can feel your cheeks heat.

He traces a finger over the strap of your bra, then he lowers his head to kiss.

You tug him on top of you. 

He comes willingly, settling his hips between your legs, erection pressing against your core.

You’re impatient with the layers of clothing between you. You want to feel more of him.

‘Take more off,’ you urge. Seokjin smiles at you, a little goofy, a lot handsome.

You encourage him by lifting your hips and wriggling your panties down.

‘Take everything off,’ Seokjin says to you. His voice is low now, his eyes dark.

You unclasp your bra.

For a moment he just stares at you.

Then he’s kissing you again, positioning himself, rolling a condom on.

He’s thicker than you expected. You grab his shoulder as he pushes into you, and he stills immediately. 

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You shift the angle of your hips and spread your legs more. ‘Yeah.’

He goes slow, and you marvel at his self-control. 

‘You good?’ he checks when he’s fully inside you. Your grip on his shoulder tightens. 

‘Yeah I’m good,’ you say.

‘You feel really good,’ Seokjin tells you, as he starts to move. He’s quiet then for a bit, concentrating as he thrusts, rocking against your hips. 

God, he feels good.

You bite your lip, and Seokjin says, ‘fuck, you look so pretty taking my cock.’

His words make you tighten, and he smiles, slow.

‘You liked that. You want to hear more, baby girl?’

You’d never normally put up with being called baby girl but somehow when he says it, it sounds hot.

You moan as he thrusts harder. 

‘What’s that, baby? Do you like it? Let me hear you.’

He tweaks your nipple, and you moan again.

He’s starting to get breathless now.

‘S’ fucking good,’ he pants. 

You realise your nails are digging into his shoulder. 

‘Seokjin!’ You cry out on a particularly hard thrust, when he grinds against your clit.

‘That’s it,’ he murmurs. ‘Who fucks you like this, baby?’

There’s pleasure in every stroke, spreading out from your spread cunt to your thighs, sending flares of sensation down to your toes.

You realise he’s waiting for an answer when he pinches your nipple, hard.

‘I asked you a question, love. Who fucks you like this?’

‘You do,’ you tell him. ‘Fuck, Seokjin, I’m close. Fuck.’

He presses his face to your neck, and you can feel his lips curve. ‘Gonna cum for me?’ he whispers in your ear, voice velvety, smooth.

‘Yeah,’ you tell him. ‘Yeah.’

‘Good girl,’ he praises when your head arches back and your body thrums with your orgasm. 

He slows, thrusting gently as your body gradually relaxes into the bed. 

‘You good?’ he asks. His voice is gentle, despite the fact you can still feel him, hard and twitching inside you.

‘I’m good,’ you assure him.

‘Good. Now you’re gonna take my cum,’ he says, and despite the fact you’ve just cum you feel another thrill of arousal.

‘Take it like a good girl, baby,’ he says.

He slows his strokes, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into you again. 

‘Can you take more?’ he asks. 

You press a kiss to his neck. ‘Give me more, Seokjin.’

He falls quiet again, fucking into you until his thrusts get slower and slower and then, with a deep groan, he thrusts again, and is still.

‘So good,’ he tells you, face buried in your hair. ‘So good.’

***

Jungkook’s rustling into your bag like a ferret.

‘Stop that,’ you say, grabbing his hands to make him stop.

‘I need a snack,’ he whines.

‘You don’t need anything, we just ate,’ you tell him firmly.

‘I’ve been training hard,’ he tells you. 

‘When are you leaving for national training?’ you ask, exasperated.

‘Next week,’ he replies. ‘Seokjin and I are rooming together.’

‘I’d better warn Seokjin that you snore, give him time to pick a new roommate,’ you say.

Jungkook frowns, then calms when you toss him a snack.

‘Are you guys dating now?’

‘Yes,’ says Seokjin, coming up behind you and grabbing another snack out of your bag.

You look up at him, flustered. 

‘Aren’t we?’ he asks. ‘I mean, we’ve been —-‘

Your father’s voice sounds from behind Seokjin, and all three of you freeze.

Seokjin recovers his composure first. ‘I’ve been planning to tell you, sir, that Y/N and I are dating,’ he says, polished, calm.

You and Jungkook exchange a look.

Your father looks at you, and you straighten in your seat, nudging Jungkook’s hand away from your bag where he’s fishing for another snack.

‘Well, that’s fine,’ your father says, gruffly. 

‘I’ll do my best by her,’ Seokjin says, seriously, and your heart starts to flutter. 

He smiles at you. 

Beside you, Jungkook crumples his snack packet, loudly and obtrusively. 

‘I’ll look after Jungkook too,’ Seokjin says, and Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

‘I don’t –’ Jungkook starts, whiny, at the same time your father says, ‘Good man.’ He pats Seokjin on the back. 

As soon as your father leaves the room you pull Seokjin into a hug. ‘That was kinda sexy,’ you whisper. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you and whispers back, ‘You know what this means.’ 

You look at him curiously. 

‘I’m the boss. You’d better do as I say.’ 

Your mouth drops open at his devastatingly sexy grin. 

‘I’ll see you for dinner later,’ he says, turning to leave. 

‘Where are we going for dinner?’ Jungkook asks, coming up behind you, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulder. 

‘You’re not coming,’ you tell him flatly. 

‘Hyung will let me come.’ 

You turn and swipe the streak of chocolate off his cheek. 

‘Come on, let’s fence. You need to work off those snacks.’ 

Jungkook lifts his top to show you his abs, and you roll your eyes so hard you nearly give yourself a headache. 

‘Put those away Jeon, for the love of god.’ 

***

It’s been two weeks since Jungkook and Seokjin left for training camp. 

Seokjin calls you, like clockwork, every other night, sometimes every night.

You learn what his voice sounds like when he’s tired, when he’s excited, and when Jungkook’s annoying him.

You learn he can talk about himself a lot, and it should be offputting but it’s endearing. Mainly because you agree with how good looking he thinks he is. 

Jungkook often involves himself in your conversations, telling you about his fencing partners, occasionally about girls he thinks are into him.

It’s quieter in the fencing studio without them but you’re excited for them. 

You’re closing up one day when you hear a familiar voice say your name.

You turn, the ripple of excitement morphing into a tide when you realise it’s really Seokjin.

He’s leaning against the entrance to the studio, smiling at you.

‘Seokjin!’

He’s faster, covering more ground than you as you split the distance between you. 

You bury your face in his chest partly to hide your giddy smile.

Seokjin’s arms have always been strong, but as he holds you, you notice the changes in his physique.

He’s leaner, harder and god he looks prettier than ever.

He tilts his head down to kiss you, and as your lips meet, the studio lights click off.

‘It’s a timer,’ you say, waiting for your eyes to adjust.

In the dark like this, your other senses are amplified. You can hear his quiet breathing, smell the cologne he uses, fresh and crisp.

Seokjin’s hand slides down your arm, to the foil in your hand. 

‘Are you still attached?’ he asks.

He lifts the foil and touches the tip to your lame jacket. 

The green light of the scoreboard lights up, illuminating the darkness.

It’s familiar to you as a night light. You guess Seokjin feels that way about it too.

He smiles down at you. He looks beautiful in the half-light.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he tells you.

You hope he can see the happiness on your face.

‘I’ve missed you too.’

The green light clicks off as you kiss him, but you don’t need it.

You curl your hand around Seokjin’s, and he drops the foil. It clatters to the ground.

At this point, his body, even in its slightly altered state, is as familiar to you as your own.

He curls a hand around the back of your head, another around your ass, and pulls you close.

It’s many minutes before you emerge from the studio, Seokjin’s arms still around you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

His lips are flushed from your kisses, the sweats doing a poor job of concealing his arousal. 

‘Shit, look at you, wrecked for me,’ you say, teasing.

Seokjin just laughs. ‘Talk all the smack you want now, when we get in bed I’ll shut you up,’ he jokes.

It’s a short drive back to yours, but it’s still too long.

Seokjin starts nuzzling your neck as you fumble with your keys, lifting your hair out of the way.

You let out a barely suppressed moan as he nips at the join between your neck and shoulder, and Seokjin presses his hips against your ass, grinding his erection between your ass cheeks.

The door opens, and you stumble forward, Seokjin’s arm around your hips, his hand still tangled in your hair.

‘Bed,’ he grunts.

You shed your clothes quickly and when you turn to help Seokjin with his you’re confronted with his bare chest.

His gorgeous, golden skin gleams in the light from the streetlamps through your open windows. 

You dip your head and lick a strip up his chest, tongue flicking over his flat nipple.

Seokjin hisses, his hand over the bulge in his briefs, rubbing himself for relief.

He tugs your bra strap down and cups your bare breast, thumb flicking slowly across your hard nipple. His hands are more callused than they were. 

You like discovering all these changes in him amidst all the familiar.

‘Can I?’ he asks, voice strained, fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

You slip your panties off, and he buries his face in your cunt.

‘Gonna get you wet so I can fuck you hard,’ he tells you. His fingers slip inside you as he sucks at your clit, and you’re so sensitive already you’re pushed into an orgasm. 

‘Fuck,’ Seokjin swears, eyes intent on you. ‘Cumming already?’

He fingers you through your orgasm, stopping when you put your hand over his forearm.

‘Get inside me,’ you tell him.

Seokjin hesitates. ‘You’re sensitive, baby.’

‘I want you,’ you plead.

Seokjin laces his fingers through yours as he positions himself against you.

He goes slow, watching your face as he inches in.

Your cunt pulses as he enters you, and Seokjin stops when you moan.

‘Can you take me?’ he asks, voice strained.

‘I can take you,’ you assure him. 

You both moan when he’s all the way in, hips flush against yours.

You tilt your hips, and Seokjin grunts.

‘So good,’ he tells you, ‘s fucking good.’

He moves slow, purposeful, grinding against you, and you feel the pleasure start to build again.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmurs into your ear, lips against your cheek.

He groans when you tilt your hips, lifting to meet his thrusts.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ you tell him.

His body looks so good over yours as he fucks you, you almost can’t believe he’s real.

His biceps flexes as he takes his weight on that arm. His other hand grips your hip, and he grinds on you so hard you squeal.

His hand relaxes immediately. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No, give me more, Jin,’ you murmur.

He kisses your neck, lips plush on your skin. ‘I’m giving you all I’ve got, my love. You’re so good, look at you taking my cock.’

Your cunt tightens around him but he doesn’t ease up. 

Not when you’re reduced to gasping his name.

Not when you’re pulsing around him as you cum.

He keeps rocking into you until you grab his chin and plant your mouth on his.

He kisses you, open-mouthed, as his thrusts get sloppier and sloppier until finally he cums, spilling inside you whilst your name falls from his lips. Fervent, like a prayer.

You hold him whilst he recovers from giving you the best fucking of your life.

***

It’s sometime between midnight and dawn when you awaken to Jin’s hand tracing a line down your bare back.

He stops just shy of the cleft of your ass.

You turn your head on the pillow to face him.

‘Hey Jin,’ you say, sleepy, soft.

He’s smiling at you, beautiful in the half-light of your bedroom window.

‘You can touch,’ you say, as his hand once again stops above your ass.

‘Here?’ Jin asks, fingers tracing over your ass to your cunt. You’re wet for him, you’ve been wet since you woke up to him touching you.

‘There,’ you confirm, and Jin’s fingers trace between your folds, like a tease, before he’s entering you.

He stills, fingers curled. 

You turn on your side so you’re facing each other.

Your forearms cross, his long and strong and muscled, yours less so, as you reach for his cock and he slides his fingers into you again.

He’s hard, warm, twitching a little in your grasp.

‘I want you inside, Jin,’ you gasp as he pumps his fingers slowly inside you, stroking, filling you but not quite enough.

‘I want to be inside,’ he answers.

He pulls you under him and enters you again, and god, he feels so good you don’t want it to end. 

His rhythm’s slower now, purposeful, pulling you to the edge relentlessly.

He groans with every thrust, going deep, hitting you just right. You hold on to his ass, digging your heels into the bed to give you purchase to fuck him back.

Jin seems to like it.

He swears. ‘I don’t think I can hold it, you feel so good, my love.’

‘Don’t hold it, cum for me, Jin,’ you coax.

He plunges into you again and again, and you cry his name as your climax hits. 

‘Thank fuck,’ Jin groans. He’s already cumming, you can feel him wet and slick in you as you clench around him, milking him.

Jin pulls you on top of him as he collapses back down on your bed.

You press a kiss to his sweaty, broad chest.

‘We can do this anytime,’ you say, joking.

‘5 stars?’ he asks.

‘Four. I’ll give you another if you let me suck your cock.’

Jin laughs and pushes your face into his chest.

‘I don’t have to leave until mid morning.’

‘When’s your match?’ you ask, settling into his shoulder.

‘Next week.’

‘Lucky you’re not a boxer, I’ve heard they can’t nut for a month before each bout.’

‘You can blow me in the changing rooms on match day, I’ll never turn you down,’ Jin says.

You both laugh.

‘I’ll make you breakfast before you go,’ you promise.

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Jin says. ‘And the blow job.’

‘None of that is a hardship, Jin.’

‘Marry me,’ he says, instantly. 

You laugh again. ‘Cuddle me to sleep.’

‘Anytime,’ he promises, sounding sleepy already. ‘Anytime.’

***

You’re sitting in the stands waiting for the final fencing bout of the Asian Games.

Jungkook’s won a title in the team event, and he’s sitting between you and Yoongi, waiting for Jin to walk out onto the piste.

Jin emerges from the changing rooms, blinding and brilliant in his fencing whites. 

Not for the first time, you admire how beautiful he looks, tall and strong.

He stops at the end of the piste. He looks up at you in the stands and waves. 

You wave back, and Jin lifts the hand not holding his foil. 

He blows you a kiss.

Beside you, Yoongi snorts and Jungkook bursts out laughing.

You only have eyes for Jin.

He slips his mask on and greets his opponent. 

You know as well as Jin does that whether he wins or not, you’ll both be ok.

Jin slips into en garde, graceful, deadly.

The ref calls, ‘Allez.’

©hamsterclaw 2022

#seokjin fic #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #catch of the century

[effortandmore]

the restitution coefficient | ksj x knj (18+)

summary: seokjin has everything going for him. he was one of the youngest people to make VP at his company, at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. like, really good looking. according to people other than his mother, thank you very much. so, when things around him start to crumble because of one stubborn and annoyingly attractive client, he finds himself looking for vindication in a place he's sure he can’t be beat—the annual office ping pong tournament.

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: office/co-worker au, enemies (seokjin thinks so, anyway) to lovers, smut, fluff, minor angst

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, seokjin is bad at communicating, bad puns (at least i make myself laugh). here are the specific smut tags: kissing, oral sex, they're soft and annoying and seokjin talks too much

word count: 15.6k

a/n: hello! if you know anything about me, you know i love namjin v much, so here is my first namjin fic. it's my contribution to the Catch of the Century collab to celebrate jin's birthday. i had fun writing it, i hope you have fun reading it. thank you so much to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me—and to @hot-soop for the banner! you're all so lovely and i am grateful. you can read this on ao3 if like me, you prefer it for reading

There is a Kim Seokjin who still feels, most days, like a nervous kid. This Seokjin wears his coziest hoodies on the weekends and plays video games until his eyes burn and sometimes forgets to eat and shower. He is an introvert, he is insecure sometimes, he is just trying his best.

But there is also a Kim Seokjin who thinks, “never let them see you sweat,” who is quick to a one-liner, and who has, for his whole life, been faking it until he makes it. And, he supposes, by most accounts, he has made it (for better or worse).

For this version of him, there’s no question that Seokjin is the best. It's an indisputable fact, on par with universally known truths like gravity and… Well, he can’t think of too many more right this moment, but suffice it to say that his (put-on) superiority is well-known within his circle of friends, around the office, probably to passers by on the street, even.

He was the youngest person to make VP at his company (except for his boss, Min Yoongi), at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. Like, really good looking. According to people other than his mother, thank you very much.

But her, too. Obviously.

And this is true for all the different versions of him: it’s all come relatively easy. Sure, he works hard sometimes—he studied in school, he has a diligent skincare routine, he devotes weekends to the gym and to his gaming hobby, he takes tennis lessons and plays table tennis nearly every day. So, it’s not like things have just been handed to him. Maybe they’ve been made easier because of his looks, a little natural aptitude, a lot of charisma… (And the ability to convince himself and everyone around him that he’s doing great). It’s just that even when he’s had to try, he hasn’t had to try that hard. He’s never struggled, not really. This persona he puts on, it works for him. It’s helped him get more than he ever thought he deserved.

And as anyone would, he likes it this way.

And he really doesn’t like it when things don’t come as easily as he’s used to.

Because that makes him feel like the other Seokjin, the one he doesn’t really want anyone else to see and who he doesn’t want to see reflected at him when he looks in the mirror.

It’s the feeling of things not clicking for him that has him down in the basement of the tall, gray office building he works in, grunting and sweating, frustration coming out of him by way of a series of steady thwacking sounds.

“You’re scaring me a little today,” Jungkook pants, face flushed. They’ve been at it for over thirty minutes and Seokjin’s usually done by now, ready to flash a brilliant grin, straighten his tie, and ride the elevator back up to his office to close another deal.

“Just—thwack… so—thwack… annoying—thwack…” Seokjin isn’t in the same shape as Jungkook. He’s leaner, less muscle, but has a little more stamina for cardio like this. He wouldn’t dare challenge the other man to a lifting contest, but at this, he’s sure he can win.

He always wins.

Jungkook sighs when he misses his next shot just wide of the blue table. Seokjin can’t help the satisfied smile spreading across his face when he wins again, just like he does every day. He makes sure to wait until Jungkook’s paying attention before he throws his arms up in victory and shouts something unintelligible about being the greatest of all time. This win is exactly what he needed today.

“Congratulations,” Jungkook says, softly as always, which is a little funny because Seokjin knows he’s a confident kid; good at his work, strong, attractive, smart (reminds Seokjin a little of himself, if he’s being honest). “Another ping pong victory must feel good.”

Coming from anyone else, it might have come across as sarcastic, but not from Jungkook. He’s almost always earnest. Seokjin can’t relate; he moves through the world by keeping anything too honest tucked deep down inside. But he envies his coworker for it a little (and will never, ever admit that out loud).

“It does,” he says, unrolling the sleeves of his button-down. “Even though it’s called table tennis. How many times do we have to go over this?” And then more to himself than his companion, “I needed that.” It’s as transparent as he cares to be.

“Do you want to talk about the deal?”

Seokjin scoffs. “No. It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure it gets sorted out.”

And he means it. He will. He’s Kim Seokjin—he always wins. Maybe this one will just take a bit longer than it should have.

The deal is big. It’s really big; that’s why he’s involved in the first place. Usually he’s overseeing things these days; it’s a perk of being the VP of sales. He assigns his team to deals; doesn’t take the lead on them anymore. Jungkook, with his wide eyes and easy smile, is one of his best sales directors and gets most of the large contracts assigned to him. But this one was too important, so Seokjin took the client on himself, confident he could close in the first quarter.

Except it’s about four in the afternoon on 31 March, and he hasn’t closed the deal. He won’t today. For the first time in recent memory, Kim Seokjin needs to admit defeat. Which is why he really needed to at least win that fucking table tennis game.

When the elevator doors open on the top floor of the office tower, he’s sure he’s got everything under control. He’ll march into Yoongi’s office with all the quarterly sales numbers and explain that while yes, this deal was Very Important, certainly closing it in the second quarter won’t be a problem—his team has met their goals for the first quarter. In fact, it’s possible that Seokjin is really doing the company a favor by postponing this deal… It will help to pad April’s figures, which is usually a slow time for new contracts.

Yes, he thinks, this is all plausible, reasonable. Foolproof.

The smug smile on his face withers, however, when he passes Yoongi’s office on the way to his own and sees the CEO of the company already has a visitor. His assistant clears his throat, just loud enough to get Seokjin’s attention. “Yoongi-ssi asked to see you in his office when your meeting with Jungkook was done.” And then he adds in a hushed tone, “I think you’re in trouble.”

Taehyung smirks when he says it and it’s enough to sap all of the remaining joy out of Seokjin’s body. Why does he keep such a shithead assistant around, anyway? He’s the Kim Seokjin—he doesn’t deserve to be mocked by someone who works for him.

“You’re in trouble,” he retorts, immediately regretting it. It’s weak and he knows it. He’s too distracted to come up with anything better, though, so before Taehyung can give him another smartass comment in return, he continues. “Who’s in there with him?”

Taehyung just shrugs. “Some client, I think. You could ask Jimin if you really want to know. But they’re waiting for you.”

“You know,” Jin says as he straightens his tie and starts walking toward his boss’ office, “he’d hate knowing you called him Yoongi-ssi.” Yoongi tends to be casual with them in the office, which always throws Seokjin off a little—he prefers to draw boundaries between work and his personal life.

“Ooh…” And Jin can almost hear the smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “What do you think he does to bad boys?”

“You’re disgusting,” Jin calls over his shoulder.

His assistant lets out a giggle and Jin rolls his eyes even though he’s trying not to laugh, too. He’ll never let Yoongi’s assistant, Jimin, see him smiling as he passes toward Yoongi’s office. He’d have to admit how much he loves Taehyung. Not going to happen.

Observing through Yoongi’s floor-to-ceiling glass walls, Seokjin is sure that his assistant is wrong about the man in there with his boss. Because Seokjin would remember this client. He can only see the back of the man’s body, but it’s enough of a look to know that it’s a figure Seokjin would have committed to memory if he’d ever been fortunate enough to encounter it in person. The man is broad across the shoulders (but not as broad as Jin) and his honey brown hair skims across his neck in a manner that’s meant to look haphazard, but probably cost as much as one’s of Jin’s own haircuts. Or more.

Maybe it’s that the man is less gifted when it comes to his facial features and that’s why Jin doesn’t remember.

He knocks on Yoongi’s door with a couple quick raps and then pushes it open and steps in. He should bow, probably, he should say something, but he sees the client’s face and he is… uncharacteristically speechless. There is nothing wrong with the client’s face. Except that it’s pretty close to fucking perfect. The man stands, and oh… he’s tall. Big. Big everywhere, Jin thinks.

The perfect man, which is what he is now known as in Jin’s mind, reaches his hands out and gives a wide, dimpled grin.

It takes all of Jin’s years of practice in presenting a careful image for him to smile back professionally—although he’s pretty sure he’s the color of a tomato, and about to just say “dimples” instead of anything coherent.

“Seokjin-ssi, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Kim Namjoon!”

And, oh… That is… a problem.

“Kim Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

And god, he’s being rude, he realizes. He shoves his hands forward mechanically and shakes the actually-not-perfect man’s hands and bows his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Namjoon-ssi.” Because Namjoon is a client. He is the client; the one who won’t close this fucking deal with Seokjin—the one who is causing him to lose beauty sleep and eat hotteok outside of his cheat days and has possibly caused not one, but two stress pimples to appear on Jin’s face in the last month. The client he’s only ever spoken to exclusively on the phone because he doesn’t know how to use his webcam. He’s the single most infuriating person Jin has never met. Until now. When they are meeting. And Kim Namjoon is unfortunately gorgeous and tall and apparently nice even though Jin wants to shake him by the shoulders and start begging for him to sign the contract already.

“Have a seat, Jin,” Yoongi says in a calm voice that Jin very much wishes did not have the undercurrent of amusement in it that it most definitely does.

So, he sits next to Namjoon and gathers himself for whatever it is that’s happening here. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that Namjoon is still smiling, and Jin can’t decide if that means he’s not about to be fired in front of their most important potential client or that Namjoon is taking pleasure in the fact that Jin is about to be fired in front of him.

“You’re not in trouble,” Yoongi says, mercifully.

Seokjin lets out a high-pitched, nervous cackle, snaps his mouth shut immediately after, regrets most of his life choices, and then swallows any dignity he has remaining and nods. It’s a long three seconds. “Of course not. Thank you for the reassurance.”

A few more mildly torturous seconds pass where no one speaks, and Seokjin starts to sweat like he’s in the middle of another table tennis game with Jungkook. It’s not quite his worst nightmare, but having his most difficult client sitting less than a meter away from him on the day he failed to close the biggest deal his company’s had in the pipeline in a long time comes… pretty close to the top of the list.

“So…” he starts, hoping he sounds slightly more composed than he feels inside, “What brings you here Namjoon-ssi?”

Kim Namjoon straightens up in his chair before leaning unfortunately closer to Seokjin. He looks positively pleased to be in Yoongi’s office, dimples more prominent than when Seokjin walked into the office and eyes bright. “Well, first, I should apologize.”

It isn’t at all what Seokjin expected to hear and he doesn’t hate it, but it certainly seems like it’s going to be followed by a second thing that he strongly suspects he may not like quite as much.

“Not at all,” Seokjin replies, although there’s a small (large) part of him that does think his client should apologize for being so difficult to work with (and a little bit for not knowing how to use a webcam).

“I know working with my company hasn’t been the easiest for you,” Namjoon continues. And fuck, he’s got this bashful sort of grin he gives like he’s embarrassed and contrite and so fucking handsome Seokjin might forget to breathe a little bit. And forget to respond. When he stops staring at his client, he sees Yoongi watching him expectantly with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Seokjin finally says. It comes out in a bit of a rush as he waves a hand in polite dismissal. “You’ve been a pleasure to work with.” He hates the words as they come out of his mouth, because he’s a lot of things, but he’s not really a liar. Not like this. Kim Namjoon has been a complete pain in his ass to work with. To reiterate: he can’t use a webcam. And that’s not all! He asks for the most minute changes to every single document Seokjin and his team provide. He takes forever to make the smallest of decisions and then proceeds to change his mind about them quite literally hundreds of times before he finally settles.

“I’m glad you think so,” Yoongi chimes in, “because you and Namjoon-ssi are going to be working together much more closely for a while.”

Seokjin looks between Yoongi and Namjoon waiting for more explanation. He’s not sure how he could possibly work more closely with Namjoon. This project has been his entire life for months. He has been eating, sleeping, and breathing this deal and the only thing that takes up more of his time than closing the deal lately is wondering why a grown adult who is the Vice President of Operations for a fairly large company can’t use Zoom.

He chokes down every pained, sarcastic comment couched in a joke he might want to make and gives his most winning smile to his boss. “That sounds great,” he says. He’s almost sure it doesn’t sound like he wants to cry.

But he does want to cry. Especially when Namjoon beams in his direction and nods, excited like a retriever. “I think so, too, Seokjin-ssi! I’m looking forward to this so much.”

Swallowing the large lump that’s forming in his throat, he smiles back. “So, so great…” he mutters. “So… exciting.”

***

Over the weekend, he sort of has time to process the drastic turn his work life is about to take. Kim Namjoon, Vice President of Operations for one of the country’s most prominent seed and soil companies, is coming to work out of his office. Not the building, mind you, but Seokjin’s very own perfectly-curated-to-his-own-tastes-and-not-big-enough-to-share office.

It’s enough to make his face break out with a third pimple.

Yoongi and Namjoon had dreamt up some ridiculous theory that Namjoon’s boss, the CEO of the seed and soil company, might be willing to sign the deal with just a few more adjustments to the contract and a well-constructed pitch video. Namjoon says he wants the software that Seokjin has to offer, says he knows it will streamline work for his front-line employees, but his boss is apparently… particular. Hard to please.

Theoretically, it should make him feel better that Namjoon claims to have not actually been the blocker to getting this deal signed. He says he’s nothing more than a middle-man; trying to convince his boss that Seokjin’s software will be a win for them. Theoretically, he should have laughed when Namjoon said he’d been spending the last few months “planting the seed” about how helpful the software would be with his boss. Seokjin loves puns. But loves them most when he’s the one making them; loves them a little bit less when they’re delivered by his nemesis and then immediately followed with a bashful grin and two impossible to ignore dimples.

As he gets ready for work on Monday morning, he still can’t laugh at Namjoon’s bad joke, and he doesn’t feel better about having to share his space. He feels inadequate and annoyed (and he knows at least Yoongi will be able to read it on his face—probably Jungkook and Taehyung, too. This makes him vulnerable, like a gazelle in a Richard Attenborough narration. He can’t think of anything worse) and he hates those feelings almost as much as he hates the circumstances.

It doesn’t help that it’s one of those mornings where nothing is going his way. He did get that third pimple over the weekend (and a fourth if anyone’s counting—Jimin will be), and he accidentally squirted concealer all over his bathroom mirror when he was trying to cover up said pimples. He must’ve made his coffee in too much of a rush because there are grounds in it, and he missed his first alarm so he’s now forced to drink the sludgy coffee because he would have had to sacrifice his skincare routine in order to make a new pot, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that with the rough state of his chin.

After missing his usual train, he dashes through the wet, gray morning streets to the office from the later train. He spends the jog hoping he beats Taehyung there, because the last thing he’s in the mood for is taking shit from his own assistant for being late. It’s far more entertaining to be the shit-giver, and Taehyung and Jimin are easy targets—both usually late on Mondays, conspicuously arriving together with one of them in the same clothes they wore on Friday.

It’s not his lucky day.

“Hyung is late!” he hears a sing-song voice call as he emerges from the elevator. So many things are wrong with this scenario, the first being that Tae knows he’s not supposed to call Seokjin his hyung when their other coworkers can hear, and the second that Tae and Jimin are sitting atop Taehyung’s desk, pointedly not working and looking a little too pleased for a Monday morning in their bleak office building.

“What’s got you two so enthused?” he asks, setting his bag down by Tae’s desk, ignoring the use of the informal honorific, and adjusting his running-tousled necktie.

“It’s moving day!” Jimin replies cheerily, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of Seokjin and Yoongi’s offices.

“I don’t see what there is to be excited about,” Seokjin mutters. Namjoon is in Yoongi’s office, gesturing enthusiastically as Yoongi watches him with that familiar half-amused grin on his face.

Taehyung reaches up and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Now, hyung, maybe this will be good for you. Help you loosen up.” He’s giving Seokjin a shit-eating grin when he adds, “I hear he’s really good at ping pong, too.”

Seokjin definitely should have scolded him for the hyung thing the first time.

Instead, he grabs his bag and takes a step back from the two assistants. “Table tennis. And don’t you have work to do?” he tells more than asks as he heads past them to his office.

“Try and have an open mind, hyung!” Jimin calls as Seokjin shuts the door.

Kids these days are so disrespectful.

In his office, another desk has been added. It’s not yet full with paperwork and photographs like Seokjin’s desk is, and he wonders for a moment if Namjoon will even bother. It’s not like he’s here permanently; there’s really no reason for him to get attached to the space. To Seokjin’s space.

There’s not much time to think about it before the door swings open. No one just comes in without knocking except Taehyung, so Seokjin doesn’t even look up from his screen before saying, “You need to knock it off with the hyung stuff when we’re in the office, you know?”

And Taehyung is generally unpredictable in his replies, but silence is never an option he indulges in, so when there’s no response, Seokjin knows something is wrong.

“Tae?”

He hears a throat clearing in response and just from the tone of the sound, he knows it’s not his assistant.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

“If by ‘you,’ you mean Namjoon, then yeah. It’s me. Do you think you could give me a hand?”

Namjoon is in the doorway to the office with a large box in his arms. Seokjin knows the box is large because Namjoon is large, one of the facts he’d managed to retain from their first in-person encounter, and the box conceals most of the upper-half of Namjoon’s body. All Seokjin can see above the box are his behind his glasses, and the stupid, stupid dimples on display.

He realizes that he hasn’t actually responded to Namjoon yet, a moment past when it turns awkward. Oops.

“Sure, what can I do?” he asks, standing from his desk.

“If you could just grab Ponyo, that would be great. Thanks Seokjin-ssi.”

“Ponyo?”

Namjoon gestures with his chin to the glass bowl stacked carefully atop the box he’s holding. “Ponyo. My fish.”

“Clever,” Jin says as he grabs the fishbowl.

“Ah, not really. But thank you. She’s a good companion, doesn’t talk back. And I’ve had her for a long time.”

“So you like the strong, silent type?”

When Seokjin looks up, Namjoon is staring back at him, wide-eyed, and he could swear there’s the hint of a flush on his cheeks. “Not exactly,” Namjoon mutters as he turns and sets the box down on his new desk.

“It was a joke, Namjoon-ssi.”

“Right. Of course.” Namjoon straightens his tie and won’t make eye contact. “Well, thank you for your help. I’ll leave you alone now. Well… not really alone. But…”

It’s going to be a long few weeks, Seokjin decides. He may not be Namjoon’s biggest fan, but it would be better for both of them if it wasn’t this awkward the whole time they’re sharing an office. So he extends an olive branch. “I’m going down to get some coffee. Would you like anything?”

Namjoon brightens immediately. “Thank you, Seokjin-ssi. Iced americano, please,” he says as he starts to pull his wallet out.

“My treat,” Seokjin replies, waving him off. “A ‘welcome’ gift, I guess.”

Namjoon smiles again—wide and really very pretty, Seokjin admits to himself reluctantly—as he gives a quick, shallow bow.

He’s so polite. Infuriating.

Seokjin can’t explain why getting out of his own office feels so much like a relief. This is the first time he’s found so much solace in an elevator ride. So far, Namjoon’s really not at all what Seokjin had made him out to be after months of tedious back and forth. But it’s best to exercise caution in these situations, he thinks. You never know when people are waiting for you to show your vulnerable side. And it’s only been five minutes of Namjoon being polite compared to months of him being the most difficult client Seokjin had ever had.

“Good morning, Seokjinnie!”

Seokjin assesses the lobby of the building quickly, making sure no one he knows heard the nickname. What’s with people not just using his name today, anyway?

“Morning, Hobi.”

“The usual, hyung?”

Hobi is a saint in a man’s body, this is something Seokjin knows for sure. He used to work in the office on the software development team, and about a year ago decided that the money wasn’t worth it. Seokjin envies him if he’s being honest, walking away from security in exchange for a chance at happiness isn’t a risk he’s ever been willing to take. But it worked for Hobi; he owns the small cafe in the lobby of the office building, and he does well for himself without working the grueling hours that he used to—the hours that Seokjin still works. Supplying all the office lackeys their daily caffeine dose suits Hobi, too, even if he does get flustered when the line is longer than one person.

If Seokjin was really interested in the highest quality drinks, he’d go a block down the street to the hipster shop where all the baristas are hot, but dicks. What Hobi provides is a different kind of comfort. He’s everyone’s friend—even someone sort of closed off like Seokjin can’t help but open up a bit to him. They’ve known each other for a few years now, and while he’s not sure he can call anyone his best friend, Hobi is pretty close. Countless movie nights and talks over chicken and beer have sort of cemented that.

Seokjin nods. “The usual and a large iced americano, too.”

Hobi pauses and lifts an eyebrow over his ridiculous glasses with yellow lenses.

“For the new guy,” Seokjin explains. “Just this once.”

“Oh! For Namjoonie! I should have known.” Hobi gives Seokjin a smirk and sets about making the drinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As soon as the question comes out of his mouth, he knows it shouldn’t have. It’s inevitable that he’ll regret asking.

“Nothing,” Hobi says, “he’s just… you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Seokjin replies automatically, then realizes he sounds a little dreamy. “I mean… he’s fine. It’s polite to do something nice for the new guy. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything, obviously.” He’s definitely rambling now, and he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s just coffee. And he’s a client,” he adds in spite of himself.

How the fuck does Hobi always do this? It’s a waste that he owns this coffee shop. He should be a fucking Interpol agent or something.

“Mmhmm.” It’s obvious Hobi sees right through him. Of course he does.

“He’s mostly insufferable,” Seokjin continues, trying to act nonchalant. “How do you know him, anyway?”

“Oh, Jinnie… I know all the cute boys in the building.” Hobi sets two drinks down on the counter next to the espresso machine. “Anything else on your mind?”

“I have to share my office with him.” This comes out of his mouth as a full-blown whine, far more plaintive than he’d meant to be out loud.

Hobi just laughs. “I heard. Well, should be interesting, at least.”

Grabbing the drinks, Seokjin pouts. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“Movie night this week?”

“Yeah, but I get to pick this time.”

Hobi grins as Seokjin turns to head back to the elevator and his office. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

***

It is very bad.

The first day is fine. Namjoon is quiet (mostly), he puts his things away and organizes his desk while Seokjin works. They make polite conversation at appropriate intervals and Namjoon leaves promptly at five in the evening. Probably a husband or wife to get home to, Seokjin decides.

On the second day, Namjoon arrives at the office first, and there’s a steaming flat white waiting on Seokjin’s desk for him. It’s a little surprising, but appreciated, and Namjoon gives a trademark shy smile when Seokjin thanks him. It’s infuriatingly cute.

Then Wednesday happens. Wednesday is table tennis day. Everyone in the office knows that. It’s when he and Jungkook head down to the basement before lunch for their “Wednesday sales meeting” and Seokjin proceeds to destroy him for an hour before buying him lunch.

So, on the third day, Seokjin heads to the elevator just before eleven in the morning. Namjoon’s been gone for a while, said he had a meeting earlier, so he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to explain himself to anyone when he heads out. But Jungkook isn’t by the elevator waiting like he usually is. Maybe he’s taking some initiative, Seokjin thinks as he steps into the lift. When he gets to the basement, he loosens his tie as the elevator door opens and stops dead in his tracks after he turns the corner. Because Jungkook has taken some initiative. He’s in the middle of what looks to be a contentious match already.

With Kim Namjoon.

“What’s going on down here?” He means to keep his cool, for it to come out as a question. But it’s more of a squawk. Mortifying.

“Oh!” Namjoon is breathing heavily and his eyes widen when he notices Seokjin. This, in turn, makes Seokjin finally notice that instead of just rolling up the sleeves of his shirt like a civilized person, Namjoon has removed his shirt, leaving him in only a white undershirt. A tight, white undershirt that moves with his arms and his chest when he moves and is unfortunately quite devastating. Seokjin is definitely staring, which he only realizes when Namjoon begins to speak again. “Seokjin-ssi! Jungkook was just showing me the ropes. He mentioned you two play and that there’s an office tournament in a few weeks.” He pauses and breaks out his stupid, dimpled smile, because of course he does. “I just love ping pong,” he says brightly.

“Yeah, hyung. Namjoon-ssi loves ping pong. Just like you!”

Seokjin turns to face Jungkook, who seems to have forgotten that he is Seokjin’s employee.

“I think it’s so nice everyone here is so close,” Namjoon says earnestly before Seokjin can remind Jungkook that they’re in the office and that he is Jungkook’s boss. “You can call me hyung, too, Jungkook-ah. If you want. I feel like we’re becoming friends already.”

This draws a snort of disbelief out of Seokjin, and a starry-eyed, nervous smile from Jungkook. “Hyung…” Jungkook whispers, seemingly to himself, trying out the word. Then he nods enthusiastically. “I’d like that, thanks, hyung!”

“It’s called table tennis,” Seokjin interrupts. “Table tennis, not ping pong. And on Wednesdays, Jungkook and I play.” The words come out in a rush as he rolls his sleeves up and moves to stand next to Namjoon. It’s not that he means to be challenging, but this is his day.

“Don’t tell me you wear pink, too.”

Seokjin just glares (even though under normal circumstances, he would probably laugh). This is his table, his basement, his office, his Jungkook.

Namjoon backs down quickly. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” he says politely, handing his paddle over.

“You didn’t!” Jungkook chimes in. “I had fun playing with you, hyung.”

“Me too, Jungkook-ah, thank you!” Namjoon starts to put his shirt back on and Seokjin hates that he feels conflicted about it.

“You can stay, if you want,” Seokjin offers in a moment of pectoral-induced weakness. “You know, to get some pointers.”

“Namjoon hyung doesn’t need pointers! He beat me twice already. But I was about to come back, I swear.” There isn’t even an attempt on Jungkook’s part to disguise his adoration.

It’s disgusting.

“I can always improve,” Namjoon chimes in as he sits on the old folding chair they’d dragged down from a supply closet. “Plus, it would be nice to get to know you both better.”

Jungkook flushes and Seokjin rolls his eyes. This guy just cannot be for real.

When they play, Namjoon calls out encouragement to both of them in between scrolling his phone. Something on there must be interesting because his thumbs are flying pretty frequently. It’s unfortunate that Seokjin notices this, because it means that he’s not paying as much attention to the game as he should be.

The unthinkable happens.

Jungkook lets out a loud whoop and Namjoon claps enthusiastically from his chair. “Good job, Jungkook-ah!”

Seokjin loses table tennis that day. As he stands on his side, motionless in disbelief, he can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of sign.

“I have to go,” he mutters under his breath, not even bothering to roll his sleeves back down or straighten his tie before he gets on the elevator.

Wednesday makes one thing clear: Kim Namjoon is going to be a problem.

Over the following weeks, things continue to get worse.

First, Namjoon buys their lunch. On the surface, this is fine. Nice, even. A gesture that most people would appreciate. Especially considering that Seokjin has… maintained a professional distance between them to say the least. They barely talk after the table tennis incident, and when they do, it’s entirely about work. Namjoon, to his credit, tries, but Seokjin isn’t really sure why. It’s obvious he was trying to prove something in that basement.

Things go downhill when, after lunch, Seokjin begins to feel itchy. Really itchy. Itchy all over like poison ivy or nettle stings. The sort of itchy that’s also warm and makes you feel like your skin is just some sort of scratchy wool sweater that your grandmother won’t let you take off because you look “cute.” He tries splashing water on his face and hands, but it just keeps getting worse. It’s almost like… it’s almost like an allergy.

“Kim Namjoon!”

Namjoon whips his head up from his computer when his name is shrieked into the office.

“Is everything okay, Seokjin-ssi? You look flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Garlic!”

His officemate just stares at him blankly, clearly unwilling to admit to his sabotage.

“You put garlic in my lunch!”

“Uh… I mean… I didn’t make the lunch, but there could have been garlic in there, yes?” He phrases it as a question. Still playing dumb, apparently.

“I can’t believe this,” Seokjin complains. “Look at me!” He sticks his arms out, pink from the scratching and probably also from the rash that’s taking over his entire body as he speaks. “I can’t work like this.”

“I think I’m missing something…” Namjoon says softly.

“Sure,” Seokjin says. “You didn’t know I was allergic to garlic.” He rolls his eyes. “Did Taehyung put you up to this? Jungkook? Is this some sort of joke you’re all in on? You think this is funny, Namjoon-ssi?”

Namjoon’s brow lifts. “You’re allergic to garlic?”

Seokjin scoffs as he snatches up his suit jacket, and his laptop. He types out a quick message to Yoongi on his phone letting him know he’ll need the rest of the day off to recover from the horrible prank that’s been played on him.

“First table tennis, now this,” he says on his way out. “I hope you’re happy!”

Before he shuts the door—definitely not a slam, even though he really, really wants to for the dramatic effect—he thinks he hears Namjoon mutter, “I’m mostly just confused…”

Needless to say, their progress on the pitch video for Namjoon’s boss is slow. Seokjin miraculously recovers from the garlic incident, which everyone swears was not a prank, but Taehyung and Jimin do nothing to ease his suspicion when they snicker while he interrogates them. It wasn’t even a good prank, because all it does is set them behind schedule. Well, it does, and the arguing.

For the pitch, they’re supposed to be working together on supplemental materials, but they just can’t seem to seem to see eye to eye. Namjoon wants everything spelled out—so much detail, so many… words. It’s not Seokjin’s style. He’s better with visuals—charts and interactive videos and talking his clients through them. It’s proven. It’s gotten him this far. Namjoon’s not a marketer, not a salesperson. He’s a… Well, Seokjin isn’t quite sure what Namjoon is. But Seokjin is definitely a sales guy. The best sales guy. So to have this seed-man arguing with him (politely, of course, and it’s maddening) about how to properly make a pitch video is absurd.

In the end, they agree to make two separate videos and let Yoongi choose which one to hand over to Namjoon’s Board of Directors.

Namjoon looks a little confused when Seokjin offers Jungkook’s assistance. “Are you sure?” he asks, “Jungkook-ah is your best, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, you need someone who knows how to operate a video camera, don’t you?”

Namjoon nods dumbly, like he’s still confused, but accepts the help. Good, Seokjin thinks. He wants this to be a fair fight. It’ll be more satisfying that way when he wipes the floor with them.

One day a week or so later, Seokjin shows up to the office, and he’s optimistic. He and Taehyung have been making good progress on his work for the seed company and Namjoon’s been gone with Jungkook a lot working on his own. They haven’t had to interact much, and it’s been good for Seokjin’s focus. It’s curious, though, that Namjoon remains friendly when they do see each other. It has Seokjin on edge, like the other shoe will drop any moment.

When he walks into his office, it’s clear that the shoe has indeed dropped.

“What in the…”

Plants. Plants everywhere. This was supposed to be a good day.

Namjoon’s head pops up from behind his desk, which is covered in small pots. So are the windowsills, all the empty spaces on the bookshelves, parts of the floor, and Seokjin’s own desk.

“Good morning, Seokjin-ssi!”

“Plants,” he says. He’s having a hard time wrapping his head around what he’s seeing.

“Seed starts,” Namjoon agrees. He sounds… proud. “They’re from my personal collection, but I thought they would work for the video Jungkook and I are making.”

“Your personal collection?” Seokjin finally stops scanning the room to look at the other man. “These are yours?”

Namjoon lets out a soft laugh. “Yep. Well, they’re only part of my collection. I was worried there wouldn’t be enough… Actually, do you think I should bring more? Jimin and Taehyung said more might be better. This is only a third of what I have on my balcony… Hobi seemed to think it would be enough, though, when I asked him…”

Seokjin isn’t sure if Namjoon is speaking to him anymore, or to himself.

There are a hundred questions floating through his head about what exactly is happening in his office, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask because the door opens and Yoongi peeks his head in.

“Looks like you two are getting along,” he notes, scanning the room.

Namjoon looks to Seokjin, and it’s clear he doesn’t know how to answer, that he’s waiting for Seokjin to respond.

It’s not like he can tell his boss that their client is actively trying to sabotage him. Not in front of Namjoon, anyway. There’s no other option than to lie through his teeth. “We’re doing great,” he says, and plasters on a giant (fake) smile. He feels a little off-kilter because when he says it, Namjoon positively beams. But he has to know it’s not true—he’s the one causing all these problems, anyway.

“Good, good…” Yoongi murmurs. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Just wanted to check in on your progress. Only about a week until we need to deliver the pitch. We’re on track, I’m assuming?”

They both nod in agreement, but neither of them makes eye contact with Yoongi. Namjoon’s staring at Seokjin and Seokjin is staring at the dozens of five centimeter paper pots covering his desk. On track is one way to put it, he thinks.

Yoongi hums his approval and backs out of the doorframe, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“I have to go,” Seokjin says curtly.

“Oh… Is something wrong?”

Seokjin thinks if he lifts his eyebrows any higher, they’ll take flight. And he’ll get wrinkles. Which is unacceptable. “Is something wrong?” he repeats back to Namjoon.

“You sound upset.”

“Oh. Of course not. Of course I’m not upset that my whole office is being taken over by a table tennis prodigy who spreads manure pots everywhere and steals my friends and gives me garlic poisoning and thinks he can do my job better than me!” His voice rises higher and higher as he goes on and he knows his whole face is flushing down to his chest. Namjoon starts to protest, but Seokjin cuts him off. “No. I’m leaving. You can have the office—Taehyung and I can work from the conference room. Congratulations, Namjoon-ssi. You win today.”

He tries to ignore the fact that Namjoon looks thoroughly confused and, if he’s not mistaken, more than a little bit hurt.

On top of everything, he’s a good actor, Seokjin thinks.

Of course.

This point is proven when later that day, Seokjin begrudgingly realizes he needs some paperwork out of his office. He really doesn’t want to give Namjoon the satisfaction of… well, of anything, but he needs those papers, so he heads back to his office. When he opens the door, Namjoon is at his desk, surrounded by his annoying plants, talking to someone. It’s weird, because Seokjin doesn’t see a phone in his hand or earbuds in… Maybe Namjoon is talking to himself.

Then he hears another voice. Tinny, like it’s coming through… a computer speaker?

Namjoon notices Seokjin and freezes. Caught. Caught on a video call. Which he told Seokjin he “never did.” Told Seokjin he thought his “webcam must be broken.”

Kim Namjoon is a snake and a liar and Seokjin doesn’t even care anymore that he’s got pecs and dimples and really nice thighs—his slacks look stupid anyway hugging his thighs like that—it’s inappropriate. No one this shady is attractive. Not even people who look like Namjoon.

Seokjin storms out of his own office and straight to the elevator.

“Seokkkkkkjinnnnie!”

All he can muster in response is a grumble. Even for Hobi.

“I hate him.”

Hobi, infuriatingly, just laughs. “The usual?”

“Yes, please.” Seokjin paces in front of the counter while Hobi makes his drink. “He’s a liar,” he whines, “and he filled our office with plants.”

“Not plants!” Hobi gasps, showing the appropriate amount of shock at the distressing news, but then when Seokjin looks over at him, he’s laughing again.

So much for friendship.

“It’s the last straw,” he says as he takes his drink from the counter. A large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. One of his favorites. “First there was having to share an office, then the fact that he took over my Wednesdays with Jungkook. Then the garlic, and the terrible ideas he kept pitching, and now the plants…” He pauses to lick whipped cream off of his top lip. “And he lied about the webcam, Hobi. He knows how to use the webcam!”

Hobi looks at him above the rim of his glasses. The look is more stern than the ones he usually gives. It’s the same one Seokjin gets when he’s being obnoxious about a video game or when he doesn’t let Jungkook have the last piece of chicken.

“What?” Seokjin asks flatly.

“Nothing.” Hobi raises his hands defensively and shakes his head.

“Just say it, Hobi.”

His friend pauses his work wiping down the milk steamer and tilts his head before he speaks. “I know you see things one way, but have you considered that there might be another side to all this?”

“No.” He’s sure he’s pouting now, but is it so much to ask for Hobi just to agree with him?

“He’s a nice guy, Jinnie. He thinks you hate him.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I think you should give him a chance. Maybe there’s an explanation for all of this, you know. You could just… try.”

“Hmmph.”

“We’re going out on Sunday. He’s coming. You should come, too.”

Seokjin’s eyes fly open in disbelief. “You’re hanging out with my archenemy? On a school night?”

“Don’t be dramatic. And yeah, we all are. Jungkookie, Taehyung, Jiminie, and me. We’re taking him out. It’s hard to be the new guy, Jinnie.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Yah, especially when you’re a saboteur.”

“Stop that.”

“Make me.”

“I’ll switch you to decaf.”

“This is hot chocolate, Hobi.”

“That’s what you think!”

Seokjin can’t help but smile. “Fine. I’ll give him one chance. But I don’t like it.”

Hobi smiles broadly. “Good. I knew you’d come around.”

Seokjin waves him off and crosses the lobby back to the elevator. “Just make a note for the history books that I’m being the bigger person here!”

“Sure will.” He can hear Hobi laughing at him even when the elevator door closes.

***

They make it through the rest of the work week with no “Namjoonings” as Seokjin has started calling them in his head. Namjoon rearranges the office to get almost all of the seedlings out, apologizing for causing Seokjin any inconvenience and bringing him an “I’m sorry” bonsai. When Seokjin says he barely remembers to give himself water, Namjoon just grins and promises to help care for the delicate tree himself. It’s kind of sweet.

On Wednesday, he even gets Jungkook to himself for the first time in weeks. Without Namjoon watching them play, it’s much easier to focus, and Seokjin wins table tennis that day. All three times they play.

He and Taehyung wrap up their pitch video on Friday, final edits made, adjustments inked in the contract, and he delivers everything to Yoongi for review feeling good. Of course, he’s curious about what Jungkook and Namjoon have delivered, but he feels good enough about his own pitch that he’s not letting it bother him. He’s the expert, and he taught Jungkook almost everything he knows, so he feels confident that even if Jungkook and Namjoon did a good job, Seokjin did better.

It’s the best couple of days he’s had at work in weeks.

Sunday night, he finds himself still in a good mood, crowded into a karaoke room with his best friends, a beer in hand and one Kim Namjoon sitting next to him, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously.

He’s different outside of the office, and Seokjin notices it right away. Namjoon is clearly uncomfortable with him, and it’s strange, even to Seokjin, that if Namjoon had been trying to ruin his career this whole time, that he would feel nervous around his victim. So that, combined with the apology plant and the daily drinks he’s found on his desk with cute doodles drawn on them make Seokjin think that it’s possible Hobi has a point with his whole “two sides to every story” thing.

Maybe.

Taehyung and Jimin are in the middle of a passionate duet of “I Got You, Babe,” when Seokjin decides he could, under the influence of two beers, be bothered to at least try and clear the air.

“Namjoon-ssi?”

Namjoon practically chokes on his beer. “Oh! Uh… me? Yeah?” He looks surprised that Seokjin is even speaking to him. It’s pretty cute. It’s the first time Seokjin has seen him outside of the office, and he looks like a different person. Even more attractive, which Seokjin resents. He’s got shorts on, (no one should have legs like his—it’s rude) paired with expensive sneakers and a soft-looking, oversized hoodie. His hair is apparently freshly washed, and it’s fluffy under the hood he’s had pulled up most of the night. He looks cozy. As someone who’s practically always cold, Seokjin likes it when people look cozy, when they look like they could wrap him up and keep him warm… Even his enemies. Or, alleged enemies.

“I thought… Well, Hobi thinks we should talk things out.” As cute as Namjoon is, and maybe because he looks so cute, Seokjin can’t bring himself to look the other man in the eye.

Namjoon smiles. “Hobi thinks?”

“Maybeiagreeitwouldntbesobadforustotalk.” God, he’s a mess. The words just tumble out. Why is he nervous about this?

“Yeah, I think that would be good, too.” Namjoon removes his hood and leans in closer to Seokjin—it’s loud and so it makes sense that if they’re going to talk he wants to hear a little better, but the proximity is making Seokjin a little woozy. He even smells good. It’s devastating.

He clears his throat. “Well, it’s come to my attention that I may have made some assumptions… And that it’s possible that you didn’t actually try to give me garlic poisoning on purpose.”

At that, Namjoon comes very close to spitting beer out in laughter, a hoodie-covered hand flying up to contain it.

“Yah, it’s not funny, Namjoon-ssi!”

“Sorry!” Namjoon wipes his mouth and then gives Seokjin a very serious look. “I would never, ever try to intentionally give you garlic poisoning. I had no idea you were allergic. I swear.”

“You promise?”

“I swear,” he repeats. He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but Seokjin’s been fooled by him before. Probably been fooled.

“Okay… What about Jungkook? Why are you turning him against me?”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. Wider than wide. “I really… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“What does that mean?”

“Jungkook is crazy about you! When we play ping pong, he’s always talking about ‘sunbaenim’ this and ‘Seokjin hyung’ that. It’s overwhelming sometimes.” Namjoon looks across the room to where Jungkook and Hobi are laughing with each other. “When we made our video, he kept saying things like, ‘Seokjin sunbaenim would want it like this.’ He never shuts up about you. I could never replace you, Seokjin-ssi.”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong idea about me or my intentions here.” Namjoon’s looking at him earnestly, tilting his own head down to try and meet Seokjin’s gaze, which has settled somewhere on the floor. “I respect you, I’ve always liked working with you, and I’d like it if someday, we could be friends, too.”

“Friends,” Seokjin mumbles, trying to think about what Namjoon’s been saying.

“You know, friends. Like where one of us doesn’t hate the other?”

And that’s it for Seokjin, because Namjoon looks hesitant and cautious and soft and cozy and not at all like the villain Seokjin’s made him up to be in his head. “That could be arranged, I think.”

Namjoon’s dimples make their first real appearance of the night. “Yeah?”

“But you need to teach Ponyo some manners.”

“Huh?”

“She’s always chewing with her mouth open.” Seokjin hollows his cheeks and does his best fish impression, which results in Namjoon doubling over in laughter, his hand flying out to Seokjin’s knee to steady himself. Because Namjoon is his client, technically, he tries really hard to ignore the immediate flush he feels at the contact.

“You’re funny, Seokjin-ssi,” he says as he catches his breath.

“Hyung. Seokjin hyung. Outside of the office, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

Seokjin nods and gives his attention to the singing, trying not to show how pleased he is that Namjoon is pleased, but when he glances back out of the corner of his eye, he can’t help but feel something funny in his stomach at the sight of the dopey grin Namjoon is giving him from behind his beer bottle.

Even he can admit that, this one time, Hobi was right.

He probably drinks too many beers that night. He’s not drunk drunk, but he’s warm and flushed and even giggling when they stumble out of the noraebang a couple hours after his newly forged friendship with Namjoon takes root. They divide into taxis, everyone calling it a night fairly early so they can show up to work in the morning without having to be on the receiving end of Yoongi’s “what the fuck were you thinking?” face.

Somehow, as he watches Jimin and Taehyung pile into a taxi, then Hobi and Jungkook, it doesn’t occur to him that he’s left with Namjoon until he feels a hand on his shoulder and hears, “Hyung, want to share?”

He thinks his brain must leave his body for a moment, because without even thinking about it, he replies, “Want to come over? One more beer?”

There’s almost immediate regret when Namjoon doesn’t answer. Seokjin can’t even bring himself to turn his head to look at the man standing next to him. He’s sure he’s crossed some sort of line—a line he’d probably been the one to draw in the first place.

He barely hears Namjoon’s answer. “Yeah, okay. One more drink.”

It’s a surprise to say the least. But a good one. Seokjin takes a couple of deep breaths and lets himself sneak a glance at Namjoon. Those damn dimples are back. But instead of being annoying, Seokjin thinks they’re beautiful. Something about how happy Namjoon looks tilts Seokjin’s world on his axis. Just momentarily, anyway. Then he remembers that they’re barely friends and he’s been objectively horrible to this man for weeks—this man who is technically his client. As they get into the taxi to go back to his apartment together, he takes more deep breaths and tells himself to get it together—this is just what friends do.

Seokjin keeps a tidy apartment, so there’s no apologizing for the mess or explaining himself. If anything, it’s sparse, because he spends so much time at work and rarely entertains at his own place, except for movie nights with Hobi.

It should be weird to have Namjoon there, but what’s weird is that it’s not at all. Namjoon slides his shoes off, settles in the living room and doesn’t waste any time asking Seokjin to talk more about himself, to tell him about the friends and family members in the photos around his apartment. He’s a good conversationalist—he asks interesting questions and laughs at Seokjin’s bad jokes and really listens when Seokjin speaks, making a lot of eye contact and nodding along at all the right places.

And he’s funny, too. Self-deprecating a little, but it makes Seokjin more comfortable around him, like he doesn’t take himself too seriously. Seokjin learns a lot about Namjoon while they both drink another beer—he has a younger sister, he loves plants in a way that wasn’t already apparent (sings to them and names them and it’s just about the most endearing thing Seokjin has ever heard in his life), he “dabbles in poetry,” likes to go to museums, and claims to only make friends with people who can cook, because he’s a self-proclaimed disaster in the kitchen. More than one of his stories of near-catastrophe has Seokjin in a riot of laughter, and it’s not long before Seokjin is wondering how he’d let himself miss out on this person for so long.

They talk until neither of them is doing a good job of keeping their eyes open, and he doesn’t think twice about offering his spare bedroom when Namjoon says he should probably get home. It’s late, they’re both tipsy, he reasons. Tells Namjoon to just set his alarm a little early to go home and change before work. They have their pitch meeting with Yoongi at 9am, so it’s not like either of them needs to be there early, anyway. “Unless you have someone waiting for you at home,” he tacks on.

Namjoon ducks his head and grins. “No, no one at home. Just the plants and me. But are you sure, hyung?”

He shouldn’t feel the small bit of giddiness he does upon hearing that Namjoon is single. “Yah, it’s nothing. Bathroom’s on the right, guest room is just past it. Sheets are clean and there’s a spare toothbrush for you. Let me find you something to wear.”

He shuffles to his own room and digs around for something that will fit Namjoon. He’s taller and bigger, but Seokjin has broad shoulders and wears baggy clothes around the house most of the time, anyway. He finds an old black t-shirt and some joggers and gives them to Namjoon, who is impossibly even cuter when he’s sleepy. Seokjin needs to get to bed before he says something he shouldn’t like, “can I touch your hair?” or “want to cuddle? Your chest looks comfy,” (It does) or “can I please kiss you?”

It’s confusing, the way he feels. His whole idea of this man has been flipped upside-down in the course of a day.

“Hyung?” Namjoon’s eyeing him curiously, one side of his mouth turned up in a soft smile.

“Sorry… Spaced out. Need anything else?” He swallows down the weird sensation he feels in his chest and smiles at Namjoon.

“No, I’m all good. See you tomorrow. Thanks again. I had a lot of fun talking with you.”

“Goodnight, Namjoon-ah.”

“Goodnight, hyung.”

Sleep. He’ll feel better once he gets some sleep, he tells himself.

***

In reality, what ends up happening is that Seokjin feels much, much worse.

It’s possible he had more to drink than he thought. He wakes up in the morning to sunlight, and this is the first bad omen. Bad because he should have been up before the sun came up if he wanted to be to work on time, and Namjoon should have been up even earlier.

Namjoon. Shit.

Seokjin rolls out of bed, his headache hitting him almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, as he pulls a shirt on and grabs his phone. Things go from bad to worse almost immediately. It’s 8:45 am and he is late. Late, late. Completely screwed late. Late for the most important meeting he’s had at work in months. The only solace is that if he’s late, then Namjoon is late, too. He scurries down the hall to the guest room, only hesitating for a second before throwing the door open. There’s no time for modesty, he thinks, they have to get moving.

“Namjoon-ah!”

But his call is into an empty room. Namjoon is gone, and the clothes he borrowed the night before are folded up neatly on the end of Seokjin’s guest bed.

Fuck.

By the time he’s on the subway (still so, so late), he finally has time to think about the situation. And he’s mad. Really, underneath that, he thinks he might be hurt that this man who he wanted to kiss so badly the night before is really trying to screw him over. And for no reason that he can think of. He let his guard down with Namjoon for one night, and this is what happens. It was probably Namjoon’s plan all along: get Seokjin drunk, decide not to wake him up, let him show up late to the meeting so that Yoongi will have no choice but to choose Namjoon’s ideas.

He’s so stupid for letting this happen. He knew Namjoon was bad news. He should have never listened to Hobi. All the good-looking ones are evil. Except him, of course.

“Morning, Jinnie!” Hobi calls brightly as Seokjin dashes through the lobby.

“No time, Hobi. I have a seed-man to take down.”

It’s probably the fastest he’s ever made it from his bed to the office. Of course, he knows he’s made some sacrifices in order to get there sooner—he hasn’t moisturized, his tie is crooked, and he’s sure his socks don’t match—but it’s all going to be worth it when he gets there and can plead his case to Yoongi.

When he gets off the elevator on his floor, he sees Yoongi alone in his office, no Namjoon. This is good. Maybe they rescheduled the meeting. It’s only 9:20, there’s no way they’re already done. He sprints across the floor, pausing briefly at Yoongi’s door to catch his breath, and then he knocks and pushes the door open a crack.

“Yoongi-ssi?”

“Oh, you decided to show up.”

He’s about to launch into an apology-slash-explanation when Yoongi speaks again, holding his hand up to gesture for Seokjin to be quiet. “I don’t want to know. I know you all went out last night, Namjoon told me.”

Kim Namjoon, Seokjin is now one hundred percent sure, is a rat.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin says, bowing slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

Yoongi laughs. “It probably will, just don’t make it a habit.”

“Of course.” There’s a pause where neither of them speak after that. Seokjin decides to just go for it. “So, about the meeting…”

“We had the meeting.”

“You had the meeting?”

“Namjoon and I met at nine.”

He wants to be mad, and he is with Namjoon. Not with Yoongi for having the meeting at the scheduled time.

“Oh, I see.”

“I’ve made a decision, and I’ll submit everything to the Board today for their Wednesday meeting.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” He wants to cry. Seokjin closes the door to Yoongi’s office and makes his way to the bathroom as quickly as he can. There’s no way he’s going to cry out in the open where anyone could see.

Years and years of hard work down the toilet because of one night of karaoke. Because of Kim Namjoon being a rat who didn’t wake him up. He can feel the pressure building in his head, worse than the hangover headache he woke up with. There’s nothing he can think of worse than failure, and now he’s failed in the biggest way. His dongsaeng and his client beating him at the one thing he’s always been the best at. It’s the worst feeling. Like he’s let Yoongi down… Like he’s let himself down.

He leans against the counter and fights the tears back. He’s Kim Seokjin. He doesn’t cry at work. The door to the bathroom swings open while he’s splashing cold water on his face. He didn’t bother with concealer that morning, so there’s nothing to mess up with the water.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

Of fucking course.

“Namjoon, I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh. I uh… Just wanted to see if you were alright. I was worried when you didn’t come to the meeting this morning.”

Seokjin laughs, loud and bitter. “Sure you were.”

Namjoon stands in the doorway, a surprised look on his face. “I was, yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie anymore, Namjoon. You win. Yoongi told me everything was decided. Congratulations. I don’t know why it was so important to you to do this to me, but I hope you’re happy.”

Namjoon’s voice is soft when he speaks, and he takes a cautious step closer to Seokjin. “You have to believe me when I tell you I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have to believe anything you say, actually.”

“I’m not sure why you’re upset with me, hyung.”

Seokjin stands up straight. “Hyung rights revoked, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to laugh. Insulting. Seokjin pushes past him out the bathroom door. “Seokjin-ssi, wait, please.”

Seokjin does not wait. He strides to Yoongi’s office (Namjoon two steps behind), tells him he needs a personal day, and gets on the elevator to go back down. He’s done with Namjoon, done with this office, and done with being a fool.

He makes it home without any fanfare and sleeps most of the day. When he wakes up to make himself some food that evening, he sees chat messages from Hobi and Taehyung, asking if he’s okay. They offer to bring soup in case he’s not feeling well and both ask for him to let them know if he’s alright. He ignores them. Instead, he leaves Yoongi a voicemail, telling him he’s taking the next day off as well, stomach bug.

It’s not far off from the truth—he feels awful. Prickly and queasy and bad all over. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Namjoon standing in his living room, looking soft and innocent and kissable and happy and he hates it. It’s the feeling of insecurity he’s tried to battle his whole life, now creeping back in. He shouldn’t have let himself think a pretty boy with nice dimples and a couple of good jokes really wanted to be his friend—maybe even wanted something more.

There were a couple moments, like when Namjoon shuffled closer in the karaoke room, or when he laughed at every single one of Seokjin’s worst jokes, that Seokjin thought there might be a spark there. That maybe Namjoon’s chest felt like it was full of firecrackers when they made eye contact, too.

He feels like a fool.

He ignores his friends that night and all the next day, plays video games until his thumbs hurt, and calls his mother. By the time Tuesday night comes, he’s feeling a little better, a little more capable of putting his protective shell back on and showing up at the office. Plus, the next day is the annual table tennis tournament, and Seokjin never misses that. It was his idea to begin with, and he wins every year.

Kim Namjoon may have won the pitch competition, but he’ll never beat Seokjin on the blue table.

That night, he tells himself reaffirming statements in bed: he’s smart, he’s talented, he’s attractive, he’s Kim Seokjin and he can do anything. He only believes approximately half of it, but figures the more he repeats it, the closer it gets to true.

He sets no fewer than eight alarms for Wednesday morning. In the interest of showing everyone that he is, in fact, not to be fucked with, he wakes up extra early and makes sure his hair and face are both perfect. He puts on his nicest suit and packs his lucky table tennis clothes—a navy blue and white Fila outfit that he’s never lost tennis, squash, or table tennis in. He makes himself an Ediya latte and adds a little extra sugar. He deserves it.

Because it’s a big day, he packs a lunch instead of relying on cafeteria food or a pastry from Hobi’s shop. He needs the nutrition. He hasn’t seen the tournament bracket yet, but he’s sure he’ll be playing Jungkook, who will keep him on his toes.

At the office, everyone regards him carefully. He expects to have to ignore Namjoon in their shared office, but when he enters, Namjoon is nowhere to be found. Ponyo mouths at him from Namjoon’s desk—she’s always watching. When he asks Taehyung about it, casually of course, Tae just points to one of the conference rooms. There’s a “do not disturb — call in progress” sign tacked to the door.

So the first half of the day is quiet. He doesn’t see Namjoon, but he does notice his name listed in the tournament bracket that’s been posted in the lunchroom. He’s on the opposite side from Seokjin, which means they wouldn’t play until the final, and Seokjin’s pretty confident Namjoon won’t make it that far, anyway.

Part of him wonders if he’s going to hear back from Yoongi about the deal with Namjoon’s company today. Their board meeting is happening, and they should be making a decision about whether to give Yoongi and Seokjin their business. It would obviously be a huge relief, even if Jungkook is now entitled to a large chunk of the commission. Money doesn’t really matter, because being done with the deal means Namjoon will go back to his own office, and Seokjin will be rid of him. It should be a weight off of his shoulders, and he shrugs off the small voice in his head that doesn’t want to go back to not seeing Namjoon every day.

Well, he thinks sarcastically, maybe he will see Namjoon now that he’s miraculously discovered how to use a webcam. Asshole.

After he eats lunch, he changes into his workout clothes and heads down to the basement. It’s finally his time to shine.

The elevator is crowded, and he has to ignore the looks he gets from workers who get on at other floors. No one looks better than him in a track jacket, anyway, they’re probably just jealous.

Or, that’s what he thinks until he makes it to the basement and sees Namjoon. Dressed in a familiar outfit. Familiar because it looks exactly like Seokjin’s.

The universe is a cruel place.

Once again, his stomach is a muddled mess of horny rage. No one should look that good with a sweatband on. No one that terrible should look that good, period.

He falls into conversation with Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook, who collectively look like they should be on the cover of some high-fashion sports magazine. He’s not sure he’s ever seen so much lycra in one place. Jimin gives him a wry smile when he notices that Seokjin is looking. “Like what you see?” he teases.

“Just surprised you think you can play in that,” he retorts.

“Oh, we can play,” Taehuyng chimes in with a greasy wink. It’s made worse by the fact that he can’t see where Taehyung’s hands are. No doubt attached to Jimin’s body somewhere. They’re disgusting.

“You don’t have to be that gross,” Seokjin whines.

Jungkook shakes his head. “I really think they do.”

Hobi, their official tournament referee, blows an obnoxious whistle, getting everyone’s attention. Well, almost everyone. Out of the corner of his eye, Seokjin sees Namjoon staring at him. He can’t tell what kind of look is on the other man’s face. Probably smug. Which is fine, for now. Seokjin will have fun wiping any smugness right off his pretty face later.

The first match is easy, some guy in IT who looks like he’s never stepped out from behind his computer in his life. Then he beats Jimin in the second round and observes that Namjoon seems to make it easily through his first two rounds, as well.

In the quarterfinals, Seokjin has to fight a little harder to beat Taehyung, usually an easy win made more challenging when he notices Namjoon watching from the other side of the room. If he’s not wrong, it even looks like Namjoon is cheering for him?

Probably another one of his tricks.

Seokjin has to face Jungkook in the semifinals, and on the other side, it’s Namjoon and Yoongi. Yoongi is objectively bad at this, but he’s competitive, and he’s also the boss of most of the people currently in the basement, so no one ever wants to play him. Seems like Namjoon is this year’s sacrificial lamb, on the receiving end of Yoongi’s shouts and cheating accusations when he loses point after point. Good.

Jungkook has learned a lot since he started at the office. He’s gotten better at sales and a hell of a lot better at table tennis. He’s beat Seokjin before, and they both know he can do it again. But sometime in the second match of three, it’s almost like he gives up.

“Yah, put up a fight, will you?”

“I have a cramp, hyung.” Jungkook bends down to rub at his calf dramatically, and if Seokjin is suspicious, he pushes it out of his mind and takes the “cramp” as a gift. He easily beats Jungkook to take the best two of three and make it to the final.

The final against Namjoon.

He takes some time to adjust his wristbands and drink some water before the match starts. Namjoon seems to be keeping his distance, but every time Seokjin looks over at him, he’s looking right back. He looks sad, almost. Finally, with a minute or so left until their match time, Namjoon approaches him.

“Seokjin-ssi… hi.”

Seokjin looks him up and down with his best competitive glare. He absolutely does not let his gaze pause on the muscles in Namjoon’s thighs. “Well, maybe we can settle some things today, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon furrows his brow. “I still don’t think I understand why you’re mad at me.” Then he whispers, “I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Does it really matter?” Seokjin adjusts his own sweatband and rolls his shoulders back. He steps past Namjoon and toward the table before Namjoon can reply. Faintly, Seokjin hears him say something. It sounds an awful lot like, “It matters to me.”

But he won’t let his guard down this time.

Except he does.

The first game goes fine; he cruises to an 11 to 6 victory easily. Something happens in the second game, though. Jungkook is talking to Namjoon between points, and it starts out fine, and then he asks if Namjoon really has to leave the office to go back to his actual job, to which Namjoon replies, “I’ll never leaf you, Jungkook-ah.”

It’s stupid. And it’s hilarious. Plant puns from the seed-man.

Seokjin misses his shot as he tries not to laugh. Namjoon notices that he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, and this causes a triumphant, deeply-dimpled smile to appear on his face.

“You like plant puns, Seokjin-ssi?” he asks as he serves the ball.

“No,” Seokjin lies.

“What did the cactus say to the other cactus?”

“No idea,” he grunts out as he returns a surprisingly good shot from Namjoon.

“You’re looking sharp.” Namjoon delivers the punchline with a killer backhand, and Seokjin misses the ball again.

“I hate you and your stupid jokes,” Seokjin announces. Even if he doesn’t hate them at all. In fact, he’s struggling to hate Namjoon, too. It’s actually the worst.

“But I’m just pollen your leg,” Namjoon riffs.

Seokjin misses another shot as Taehyung and Jimin fall into a pile of laughter on the floor next to the table. Even Yoongi is giving a snort.

“You’re all the worst!” Seokjin shouts as he sets his paddle down. He’s lost the game to Namjoon. 9 to 11. So embarrassing. “Hobi, can we institute a ‘no puns at the table’ rule for the final game?”

“No,” Hobi says, his tone light. “This is way too entertaining.”

“Fine.”

He’s so annoyed, he’s practically shaking. Kim Namjoon with his dumb jokes winning everyone over while Seokjin just suffers. It’s unfair, it’s enraging, it’s… well, it’s actually really cute, too, which just makes him more angry. Why does his nemesis have to be funny and attractive?

What’s apparent, as the third game begins, is that being mad is not helping his game. Neither is having to look at Namjoon’s face across the table. He could swear Namjoon’s mocking him every time he smiles.

How dare he.

Thinking about it just gets Seokjin more worked up, and he misses more shots. Then thinking about missing shots causes him to miss even more shots. He’s barely hanging on until he’s not actually hanging on at all, and shouts from Jungkook announce Namjoon’s victory.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Kim Seokjin is officially a loser.

It doesn’t sink in right away. Not until Namjoon says, with convincing sincerity, “Wow! I can’t believe I won the ping pong tournament…”

“You did it, hyung!” Jungkook is clearly excited. Traitor. “You won ping pong!”

And something in Seokjin snaps.

“It’s called table tennis, you assholes!”

He shouts it, and everyone in the room freezes.

He would be embarrassed if he thought about it, but instead, all he can think about are all the things that have gone wrong for him over the past few weeks, all tied back to Kim Namjoon.

Before anyone can move, he stomps to the elevator and slams his fingers into the buttons repeatedly until the car finally makes it to the basement and the doors slide open. It’s overwhelmingly silent in the room as he leaves—and if Taehyung and Jimin are quiet, he knows he’s probably crossed a line. He just doesn’t care. When he steps onto the elevator, he keeps his back to everyone until the door closes. When he’s finally alone, he slumps against the wall and sighs.

He’s probably going to need to find a new job.

Back in his office, he’s packing some things into his bag, hoping to avoid the rest of them. He figures if he can sneak out in the next few minutes, maybe take the stairs down, he’ll miss them all making their way back up to the office.

Of course, he figures wrong.

The door to his office opens carefully, and he can see a flop of brown hair appear in the crack.

Against his better judgment, he says, “You can come in, Namjoon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No is what he means, though. But he’s tired. It’s exhausting to fight all the time. He doesn’t have it in him anymore, he’s pretty sure.

Namjoon slips into the office and pulls the door closed, leaning back against it. “Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk if you want.” Seokjin crosses his arms and waits.

“The board approved the deal today,” Namjoon says. He looks happy. His eyes are bright and hopeful. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

To rub it in, no doubt. Namjoon is such a jerk.

“Congratulations to you and Jungkook, then.” It comes out pretty harsh, but he figures it won’t really matter anyway.

“Huh?”

“Your pitch, it worked. Congrats.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I think you’ve got some things wrong, Seokjin-ssi.”

At that, Seokjin huffs. “I’ve got some things wrong? Me?” He steps closer to Namjoon. “I think you’ve got some things wrong thinking you can some in here and lie about not knowing how to use a webcam,” he sticks a crooked finger out and points at Namjoon’s chest, “and fill my office with plants to drive me out and almost kill me with garlic and purposely make me late to that pitch meeting and think you can get away with it because you’re funny and smart and hot!”

Seokjin is practically in his face now, but instead of backing down, Namjoon grabs his finger. “You think I’m funny and smart and hot?”

“Not the point!”

“You want to know why I lied about video calls?”

“No.”

“Because I looked you up on Naver and saw your picture when we first started emailing. Because I couldn’t even talk to you on the phone without blushing. Because you are the most attractive person I’ve ever seen and I was nervous, hyung. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together if I had to look at you while we talked.” Namjoon gives Seokjin’s finger a squeeze. “I know it’s not appropriate, and I’m your client… So I never said anything.”

Seokjin squeaks. Honest to god squeaks. It’s such a far departure from what he expected Namjoon to say, he doesn’t even have a good response.

“And as for the garlic, I think we’ve already covered that. And the meeting? Hyung, I tried to wake you up when I left, but you yelled at me to stop being ungrateful and then you rolled over and started snoring.”

“I don’t snore,” Seokjin says weakly.

“Okay, sure.” Namjoon gives him an affectionate smile. “I thought you must have had your alarm set. I didn’t know that you didn’t.”

“Oh…”

“And the pitch we sent the board was yours.”

Seokjin finally snaps to attention at that. “What?”

“It was the best one. I watched them with Yoongi and told him to send yours. So you got the deal done, hyung. It was all you.”

“You really did that?”

Namjoon nods. This is all… a lot to process.

Maybe Seokjin was… not exactly right about Namjoon’s intentions.

“And you think I’m the most attractive person you’ve ever seen?”

The almost giggle Namjoon lets out is the cutest thing Seokjin has ever seen, so maybe they’re even. “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re the worst,” Seokjin says, but this time, he’s smiling, too.

“Mmhmm. I’m the worst, but I’m technically officially your client, so you have to be nice to me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.”

And it occurs to Seokjin that instead of wiping the smug grin off Namjoon’s face, he wants to kiss it off. So with very little consideration to what that might mean for his career, he leans in to do just that.

Except Namjoon beats him to it.

And thank god, he is way better at kissing than he is at sales pitches. He’s careful with Seokjin, lips moving cautiously. It’s sweet and soft and Seokjin hears himself sigh into the kiss as it deepens, as Namjoon drops Seokjin’s finger, and moves to hold his jaw instead. He takes the lead, tilting Seokjin’s head just so to deepen the kiss, and then smiling when he pulls away to catch his breath and sees Seokjin chasing his lips.

“Was that nice enough?” Seokjin teases when he finally gets a hold of the thoughts spinning around his head.

“Mmhmm… Very nice. Wanted to kiss you since the first time we met…” Namjoon barely finishes his dreamy, murmured response before he’s pulling Seokjin back in, connecting their lips again. It’s possible that Seokjin has wanted this more than he’d been admitting to himself, because he’s almost sure he’s too eager, licking along Namjoon’s plush and perfect bottom lip in hopes he’ll find space to change the kiss from sweet to heated. It’s probably only been seconds, but he’s already impatient, wanting more, more, more.

They kiss and kiss and kiss with Namjoon pressed up against the office door… The office door. Seokjin pulls away abruptly. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Namjoon looks like almost every possible emotion passes over his breathless face as he registers what Seokjin’s just said. He lands on something like disappointment. “Oh… I must have…”

“No, no! You didn’t. But…” Seokjin leans over to his side to peer out of the glass, “We shouldn’t do this here. Everyone will be back any minute.”

A strong arm wraps around his waist, and he’s tugged into Namjoon’s chest before he knows what’s happening. (And he was right, for what it’s worth. It’s very comfy, even though it’s shaking with Namjoon’s gentle laughter).

“What’s funny? I’m going to get fired,” Seokjin whispers into Namjoon’s shirt.

“I think if you were going to get fired, it would have been when you called everyone in the office ‘assholes’,” Namjoon says gently.

“Hmm… Points are being made.”

“Plus, Yoongi sent everyone home.”

Seokjin looks up. “He did?”

“Yeah… He thought it might be best after… You know.”

“Me.”

“More or less,” Namjoon agrees.

Seokjin groans into Namjoon’s collarbones. “That was embarrassing,” he whines.

Namjoon hooks a finger under his chin and tilts his head up. He’s giving Seokjin a completely enamored smile, and Seokjin’s almost sure he’s been on the receiving end of that look before, but he’s just now recognizing it for what it is. “I thought it was cute,” Namjoon whispers.

“Cute? Hah! You’re a liar, Kim Namjoon.”

“I’m not,” Namjoon says, still grinning when he leans down to place another delicate kiss on Seokjin’s lips.

“I don’t deserve this…”

“No, you really don’t,” Namjoon readily agrees. “You’re lucky I like you a little mean.”

“Oh?” Seokjin feels his ears turn red at the insinuation.

Namjoon kisses him again and then nods. “I just really like you, hyung. You’re passionate, funny, and really good at table tennis.” He’s smiling now, teasing a little, but it feels really nice to hear someone say those things, especially someone who seems like he really means them.

“Of course you do,” Seokjin teases. It’s one of his nervous tics, joking to take the pressure off, to turn the attention to something else. But when he does it this time, he realizes he doesn’t want to brush this off or make a joke out of it. “I really like you too, Namjoon-ah.”

“Good.” And Namjoon’s breath is warm against the shell of his ear when the word is whispered into his skin. It makes Seokjin’s whole body tingle. It’s not helping that Namjoon’s hands are wandering, fingertips pressing into his waist, sliding along the bottom of his shirt. “Is this okay?” he asks.

Seokjin nods, and he’s immediately manhandled so that he’s the one backed up into the door, Namjoon looking him up and down, then leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses up over his jaw and down his neck.

“So pretty, hyung,” he whispers between kisses. “Want to see more of you.” Namjoon slips his hands beneath his jacket, playing at the sensitive skin above his waistband.

“Here?” Seokjin is a little breathless, a little surprised. The Kim Seokjin who likes to be the best (and who works very hard every day to make sure that’s always the case) would never do this in the office, never take the risk… “Yeah, okay,” he agrees.

Maybe it’s time to be a new version of himself.

He’s quickly shed of his jacket and shirt by Namjoon, who whispers praises into the skin of his collarbones and chest. He’s getting hard with little assistance, and normally it would be somewhat embarrassing, but worse things have happened in the last hour—he might as well lean into it. So, when Namjoon asks if it’s okay to touch, he nods immediately and is rewarded with a single, teasing finger dragged over his shorts along his length and sending a shudder down his spine.

His head falls forward onto Namjoon’s shoulder as the other man softly bites and kisses across his skin. At this point, he’s prickly with anticipation and getting painfully hard, but when he looks up, all he sees is…

“Ponyo,” he says quietly.

Namjoon lifts his head from Seokjin’s pulse point, where his lips have started to become a semi-permanent fixture. His eyes are dark, cheeks flushed, and his lips are kiss-swollen when he answers, “You want to talk about my fish right now?”

Seokjin points to where she sits on the desk. “She’s watching…”

“She’s a fish.”

He can’t tell if Namjoon is endeared or exasperated.

“Both,” Namjoon says.

“I said that out loud?”

“You say a lot of things, hyung.”

That earns him a slap on the shoulder. “Can we turn her around?” Seokjin asks.

Namjoon lets out a deep laugh and smiles fondly. “You know she could just swim in any direction, right? It wouldn’t matter.”

“I would feel better.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow and mumbles, “Can’t believe I still want to suck you off after all this.” At least he’s still smiling.

“Fair,” Seokjin replies as Namjoon goes to move the fishtank. “Me either if we’re being honest.”

With Ponyo’s innocence maintained, Namjoon comes back to a shirtless Seokjin and resumes landing soft kisses across Seokjin’s jaw. It’s so nice, and Seokjin really can’t believe that this is happening—he meant it when he said he didn’t deserve this, but he’s so glad it’s finally real. The moan he lets out when Namjoon drops to his knees probably says enough, but he wants to make sure it’s really clear. “This is like a dream,” he says.

Namjoon looks up at him from where he’s untying the knot holding up Seokjin’s shorts. “Hmm… You have interesting dreams.”

“They’re usually not this good,” Seokjin says, his eyes falling closed as Namjoon slides his shorts and briefs down.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Stop talking.” Namjoon emphasizes his words by finally taking Seokjin’s cock in his hand, squeezing a little too carefully before licking along the shaft.

“Okay, I’m stopping,” he agrees, voice pitched higher as Namjoon wraps his lips around his cock. He can feel when Namjoon chokes back a laugh. “For real now,” he adds on in a whisper.

And he keeps his promise. It would be hard to formulate words even if he wanted to with the way Namjoon is working him over with his tongue and lips. His cheeks are hollowed as he takes Seokjin deeper, eyes watering, and he looks devastatingly good like this. If he didn’t want to see how far this could go, he’d be worried that the next thing Namjoon chokes on won’t be laughter.

When Namjoon reaches to squeeze his balls, Seokjin groans and his head thuds against the door behind him. It’s so overwhelming. Moreso when he brings himself to open his eyes and looks down to see Namjoon’s lips spread wide around his cock and one of his hands down his shorts stroking himself.

“You like this, Namjoon-ah? Like it so much you’re touching yourself for hyung?”

Namjoon just moans around him in response before he pushes further down Seokjin’s cock and swallows around the head.

“I’m close…” Seokjin whispers, and there’s no hesitance—he’s met with more encouraging hums as Namjoon moves faster.

He tries to reach down to pull Namjoon off of him before he comes, sure that it’s too much for a first time, but Namjoon just squeezes his thigh and then holds Seokjin in place, not letting him pull back.

When he comes, he thinks his legs might give out, it’s the best orgasm he’s had in ages—the only one he’s had with someone else in longer than he’d like to admit—but Namjoon keeps a steadying hand on his leg and holds him tight while he swallows and slowly pulls off, licking Seokjin clean.

“Okay, hyung?” he says, voice a little gravelly. It’s incredibly sexy, makes Seokjin wonder what he sounds like in the morning, wonder what he’d sound like when someone was taking him apart instead of the other way around.

“So good, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon stands and lets Seokjin pull him in for another long kiss. He tastes like Seokjin and it’s one more thing added to the list of surprisingly hot experiences that have happened to him today. They hold each other for what feels like an hour, but really can’t be more than a few seconds before Namjoon pulls away and looks down between them. “I should.. Uh…”

“Can I help?” Seokjin asks.

“Oh, uh… No, thank you. This is… Well, it’s my turn to be embarrassed, I guess.”

When Seokjin looks down, he sees a dark patch on the front of Namjoon’s shorts. “Oh, you really did like that?”

Namjoon’s cheeks turn even more pink. “Stop, hyung… I swear this isn’t a thing that happens to me usually.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to be reassuring. “It’s fine, Namjoon-ah, I think it’s kinda hot.”

“Now who’s the liar?” They both laugh into each other's shoulders until Seokjin shivers. “Cold?” Namjoon asks.

Seokjin nods, and Namjoon grabs his clothes for him from their pile on the office floor. Since Namjoon needs to get out of his dirty shorts, he puts his suit back on while Seokjin gets dressed. They look like quite the pair with Seokjin in a tracksuit and Namjoon in an actual suit—it’s even more of a relief that Yoongi sent everyone home, now.

The longer they’re quiet, the more he worries that things between them are going to be awkward. They probably should be given what just happened.

“So, uh…” Namjoon looks as nervous as Seokjin feels. “We did that.”

“We did. Yep. And you’re still my client, so…” He really hopes Namjoon isn’t about to tell him that this was a mistake, something they should pretend never happened.

“So, I think you should give my account to Jungkook. If you want.”

“Okay… That can be arranged.” It’s hard to control the grin that’s blooming on his face. “What do you want, Namjoon-ah?”

Namjoon smiles and grabs both of their bags, handing Seokjin’s to him. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

***

They do go out to dinner, and after, Namjoon comes over. Seokjin gets to confirm that the sounds Namjoon makes when he’s at someone else’s mercy are just about as perfect as any he’s ever heard. In the morning, Namjoon wakes him up carefully with warm kisses even though now that the project is done, he can go back to working from home or his actual office, and Seokjin is the one who actually has to get out of bed.

After a shower and breakfast, Namjoon rides the subway with him to his office, holding his hand the whole way. They barely let go when they enter the building, just in time for Hobi not to catch them. He thinks, anyway.

“Ah, Jinnie! And Namjoon! Good morning.”

“Hi, Hobi,” they say in unison.

“The usual?” he asks.

They nod in unison, and then Namjoon whispers, “Hyung, I’ve never told him my “usual,” but I can’t tell him no. He just makes me something different every time.”

“Oh, same for me,” Seokjin agrees. “That’s what he does to everyone.”

“How does he stay in business?” Namjoon asks, wide-eyed.

“Never underestimate the power of a smile,” Hobi chimes in as he sets their drinks on the counter.

“Or the fact that he’s the closest coffee shop for the hundreds of people in the building,” Seokjin counters.

When they get to the elevator bank, Seokjin knows it’s time to say goodbye, at least for the day. They’ve already made plans to meet after work to play table tennis together—Namjoon says that couples who have hobbies together are happier. Seokjin’s just happy that Namjoon wants to be in a couple after everything that happened, so he promises to be on his best behavior during any competitive scenarios. He’ll try, at least.

While they wait for the next elevator, clearly dragging out their temporary good-bye for as long as possible, Seokjin says, “I had an idea.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Maybe next year’s tournament could be doubles.”

Even though Namjoon won’t be working from their office, won’t have the opportunity to beat him next year, nothing really sounds better to Seokjin than to win with Namjoon by his side, as dumb as it sounds when he’s tried to say it out loud. Fortunately, Namjoon doesn’t make him.

“Sure, that’s a good idea, hyung. Who’s gonna be your partner?”

“Well, even though you won’t really be around the office much, I was thinking you would.”

Namjoon just gives him that same bright, dimpled grin as he did the first time they met. “Of course I will. We’ll be unbeatable.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, returning his smile. “I think we will.”

#seokjin fic #namjoon fic #catch of the century #btswritingcafe #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x seokjin #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines

[theharrowing]

Babyface

An up and coming pro wrestling company hires you to work alongside Kim Seokjin—a rising star in the industry, and everyone's favorite heel. His arrogance is dashed when he discovers you are not only talented enough to rival his skills, but that he can't stop thinking about you.

🥇 Seokjin x Athletic Non-binary (AFAB) Reader

🥇 rivals to lovers, pro wrestling au, light angst, light fluff, mature, 18+

🥇 warnings: anxiety and being overwhelmed (general and related to identity), these two are clearly perfect for each other and are both idiots. i might add a smut chapter at some point, but for now, the rating is mature. 

🥇 written for the Catch of the Century Collab! 

🥇 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🥇 posted dec. 2022 | read on ao3 (link coming soon!)

🥇 note: hello, friends! before we begin, i just want to lay down some ground work...usually i do not describe the mc's body in specific terms, but for this fic, the character is "athletic". "athletic" does not automatically suggest anything about their weight, and i do not mention dieting.

🥇 also note: trans athlete opposition is a topic that i will tread lightly around in this fic, but because it is a frustrating, overwhelming issue, it is not something i will go into too much detail about because it is hard to even write about without becoming infinitely annoyed. but in light of that, the mc is combating some feelings in this fic that will make them untrusting and with their guard up, at first. (also, none of the wrestlers on the banner are meant to represent the mc, i just searched for aesthetically pleasing shots lol.) this might be the longest author note i have ever written. wow. 

🥇 also, for the record, reader’s ring name was Wildflower before Indigo came out, okay enjoy! lolol. 

Index:

Part 1: 8.4k words

Part 2: coming soon!

Part 3: coming eventually!

Glossary of Terms:

heel: wrestlers who are villains, rule breakers or bad guys in the storyline, intentionally turning the audience against them.

people's heel: wrestlers who are heels that the audience likes and cheers for.

face: the opposite of a heel; wrestlers who are the good guys, that the audience is expected to side with.

tags: @btsiguess-kpop @btsstan12 @codeinebelle@dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki​ | this is a limited run series, but if you would like to be tagged, comment or dm!

Babyface is copyright 2022 Nabi Olive, all rights reserved. Let’s be friends on Twitter!

#seokjin x reader #non-binary reader #bts angst #bts rivals to lovers #catch of the century #fic: babyface

[beaulesbian]

Shimotsuki Ryuma in Monsters: 103 Mercies Dragon Damnation Roronoa Zoro in One Piece, Punk Hazard arc (ep. 580)

Monsters, one-shot story by Oda (x)

One Piece, ch. 656

#shimotsuki ryuma #roronoa zoro #one piece #monsters 103 mercies dragon damnation #opgraphics #opedit #onepieceedit #punk hazard #the fact that both of the dragons were slayed by shusui ;-; the same sword. over the span of centuries! insane about this family #one piece ryuma #zoro #zoro one piece #one piece monsters #one piece spoilers #im laughing about how ryuma had a very different landing after this akdjs it pays off to have someone like robin to catch them hah #mine #gif:one piece #gif:op anime

[anistarrose]

consider: demiromantic blupjeans who make rings for each other out of their own dry and bleached-white bones because they're little freaks (affectionate), but also because of the added symbolism of aro-spec white rings. consider demi blupjeans where the time they spent falling for each other is just as important and meaningful to them as their love itself

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #blupjeans #lup taaco #barry bluejeans #sometimes i forget this isn't like. a popular headcanon for them #because like? the way they didn't catch feelings for each other until cycles deep into the century? #the way they spent even more decades not knowing what to *do* with those feelings #in a way consistent with people who might not have *had* those feelings before? #i'm kinda obsessed with it. i'm kinda obsessed with the way the stolen century changed everything for them by giving them time #NOT in a way like “not being able to fall in love would be a tragedy” #but in the way that it gave them time to *realize* something about themselves that they probably wouldn't have otherwise #aspec taz

[daguerreotyping]

Circa 1930 real photo postcard from a strapping young swimmer to his friend, reading:

Bill One of the pleasures I have got from coming to this school is getting to know you, and I hope I'll see you in the future. That was a marvelous time we had on the top floor of Dunbar our first year seeing how much we could get away with under Ken Willis' eyes. I certainly hope your are first catcher for the baseball team this year. Lots of luck. Jim.

#quite a choice of photo to send to a friend #but then again this is the sort of friend with whom one has had a marvelous time on the top floor of Dunbar #and the sort of friend who might need a reminder of such marvels when he is off catching for the baseball team #early 20th century #1930s #1930s fashion #historical fashion #fashion history #men's fashion #menswear #vintage swimsuit #vintage men #vintage photography #real photo postcard #rppc #gay interest

[thesoftestmess]

this might not be canon, but personally i need furina to struggle a whole lot longer and harder with post-prophecy depression and mental illness. She's played the same tiring and painful act for five centuries, was constantly in a life or death scenario and had to hide her true self from the world the entire time and she won't just recover in a few years from that.

There's parts of her that will never ever be compatible with a simple human lifestyle, and parts of her that are irreparably broken. She isn't sure of her personality after everything that happened and the lie she had to live. She slips between personas and her archon temperament comes through like a defensive mechanism at any sign of conflict or trouble.

She's plagued by nightmares. Of the flood, of the trial, of the people closest to her conspiring against her behind her back, and of being found out in a million terrible ways. Of saying the wrong thing, making a wrong decision. Of being found out, of being found out, of being found out.

Lying or keeping a secret feels existential still. Being honest still feels life threatening sometimes. Putting herself first feels like putting both hands on a hot stove.

She doesn't live in the palais anymore, doesn't have to sit through trials anymore, but her heart and soul are still there. In her dreams she's still at the place she spent her entire life's memories at.

Yes, she can make new memories, but it'll take time. More time than she has, maybe, now that she's the closest to being human she'll ever be.

She'll never be human in the way the people around her are.

What sort of human has 500 years worth of memories after all? What human tells personal anecdotes and mixes up their centuries?

What sort of human can feel the absence of their divinity like it's a physical thing? A voice that will never speak to her again, or keep her alive? What human has no family, no childhood?

What human remembers so little, but still remembers death somewhere deep within?

She jerks out of sleep from it sometimes, gasping for air, and spends the rest of the night awake, almost frozen by fear. The flood is over, but it's hard to convince her racing heart that the danger is too.

Humans have entire family trees that go generations back, but Furina was put into this world a solitary creature, her blood heavy with sin ever since she turned human.

She owns a hydro vision now and doesn't know how to yield it, but the ocean still calls out to her some days. Sea creatures flock to her like they can smell she's not human enough.

She learns how to make little hydro companions for herself, so the darkness and emptiness of her apartment feels less ominous when she lies awake at night.

She can't turn her vision into a weapon quite yet, but when it rains the droplets seem to cling to her. She's watched them roll upwards along her arm, watched them gather in her palm like kin. She wonders if sea creatures flock to neuvillette in a similar way, or if his immense power makes them recoil. She wonders if elemental dragons can feel regret. Wonders if he, too, ever feels entirely foreign in that human body he was given. If he, too, lies awake trying to grasp faint memories of a past life.

She's extremely human in the way she's plagued by body pains from not being able to relax just one day in five centuries. The years catch up with her once she gets out of survival mode, and fatigue is a constant companion now. Sleep comes difficultly and getting out of bed was easier when the fate of a whole nation depended on it. On her. She's never lived for just herself before and some days she's not sure she wants to.

She did her duty and earned her retirement and the story turned out well, all things considered. She still has people by her side, some of them.

Still, she feels raw and tired and overwhelmed by the life lying ahead of her. As a human and as someone who will always be Something Else.

#you can have your perfectly competent fully healed hyper independent furina #if i can have my mess of a person multiply-disordered and trying her best furina #like i'm sorry but this babygirl can fit sooooo much ptsd and depression and personality disorder into her #that's a girl with lifelong chronic pain from not being allowed to relax for a day in five centuries #that's a girl who needs a teeth protector at night because she'd grind he #*them into a fine powder from all the tension she still holds #that's someone who gets so low so suddenly and loes all her joy in the matter of minutes #that's someone who wants to catch up on a lifetime of being human but is bone-deep exhausted #and crushed by fatigued #my disability beam went all over her like neuv's water gun #now she's sopping wet and shivering i'm sorry #genshin impact #furina #fari talks fic

[acrosscenturiesandgenerations]

• Catch chair.

Culture: German

Date: 2nd half of the 16th century

#history #16th century #decorative arts #catch chair #chair #german #furniture

[withasideofshakespeare]

Hamblet

#shakespeare #hamlet #Hamblet #teehee #I’m reading an 18th century critique of hamlet #it’s actually really entertaining #and this was included #I will not be forgiving y’all #for not catching that I said 16th instead of 18th century #Q1 hadn’t even been published in the 1500s lmao

[ltwilliammowett]

Sorting the catch, by Claude T. Stanfield Moore (1853-1901)

#naval art #fishermen #sorting catch #19th century #age of sail #art