Archive of Our Own

"You are a petal falling from a rose

When we talk I like it in prose

'Cause all my words are just tumbleweeds

Years and years of centered gravity

Essential existential anxiety

I think my friends still worry about me

But I can't get my arms wide enough."

- all the sundered things (tow'rs)

Nov. 2

It’s a calm, early Saturday afternoon when Namjoon hears the front door of their dorm slam shut, startling him enough to draw his gaze up from the book held in his lap.

A door slamming in their dorm isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. It’s a sound that often characterizes the space around them, in more ways than one. Sometimes it’s a frustrated slam - one of them might arrive home after several long hours spent in the studio only to have very little progress to show for it, and they’ll bring the door crashing shut behind them in an echo of their irritation. Other times it’s an excited slam - one of them might get positive feedback from a producer about a song they’re working on or will finally nail a particularly tricky vocal part that they’ve been struggling with, and they’ll burst through the door with so much excitement that they’ll forget to catch it before it slams back into its frame.

Most of the time though, it’s a hungry slam. Either someone will bring home so much takeaway food that they have to kick the door shut with their foot, or someone else will rush back at the first sign of food and careen through the door with all the force of a ravenous bear who’s just come out of several months of hibernation.

This particular slam doesn’t sound frustrated or excited. It doesn’t sound hungry either, no tell-tale smell of jajangmyeon or chicken wafting in behind it.

It sounds...hollow. Like the bare bones of the door ricocheting off the door frame from someone who started pulling it shut with a half-hearted tug only to give up halfway through and slam it closed all at once.

Namjoon doesn’t know who he expects to walk through the door. Maybe Jimin and Taehyung have started fighting again, and this is just one of them coming home after a particularly bruising argument that they’ll cry and make up over in a matter of hours. Or maybe it’s just Hoseok, too distracted from the music he always has blasting at full volume through his headphones to really pay attention to how much force he puts into closing the door.

He has no real expectations, but the person who actually ends up standing before him still manages to be the one he expects the least.

“Jungkook,” he says, voice coming out almost like a question. “You're back early.”

Last he’d seen, Jungkook had taken his car out by himself to go pick up some new video equipment; a new camera and some special lenses or something that he’d been wanting for ages. He’d left looking so excited, bouncing back impatiently on the balls of his feet as he made it through breakfast, nose continuously twitching from the little smiles he couldn’t quite keep off his face.

Namjoon remembers it vividly because Hoseok had compared him to a little bunny and he hasn’t been able to get the image out of his mind since.

Now that Jungkook is back he looks significantly less like a bunny than he does a kicked puppy. All big, sad round eyes, tail tucked firmly between his legs. Namjoon immediately gets the sense that something is off, and the quiet discomfort of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Jungkook takes a small breath in, almost like he’s preparing himself right before he’s about to jump into a cold vat of water. Namjoon is reminded of the way he’d felt when he ran into the ocean that one time with Hoseok, only this time instead of crashing headfirst into the waves to the sound of everyone’s laughter around him he’s met by an overwhelming, deafening silence.

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak, breath puffing out in a half-sigh, before appearing to think twice about it and closing it, shaking his head like it’s not worth it. Namjoon thinks he hears him sniffle once, and he feels the quiet discomfort inside of him grow.

If Jungkook is coming down with a cold, he’ll kick himself for not being able to maintain his usual one-hundred-and-ten percent level of energy at dance practice. And if he’s feeling sad, well...Then he’ll just blame himself for not being able to live up to the ridiculous standards that have come to be expected of them as global superstars.

Whatever it is, Namjoon can already feel him being too hard on himself. He can see it in the furrowed line that sits between his brows like a stubborn, unforgiving thing, and in the way he carries himself like there’s an invisible weight on his shoulders that he can’t quite shake off.

It makes his heart clench painfully inside his chest; he wants to say something, wants to smooth the worries out from beneath Jungkook’s skin until he smiles again, but he’s already disappearing into his bedroom without so much as a single glance backwards.

*  *  *

Hoseok is the first to find out what happens, and the news trickles slowly down through the rest of the members after that.

He had an accident. Collided with a taxi in Hannam. He’s a little shaken up about it, I think.

Namjoon’s first instinct tells him to march straight into Jungkook’s room to make sure that he’s okay. He convinces himself that if he’d only looked closer, if he’d only paid more attention when Jungkook first came home, he would have seen the scars and the bruises and the-

“It was only a minor collision, no one got hurt,” Jimin reminds him, resting a reassuring hand on his arm. He looks like he understands though; his shoulders are set in a hard, defensive line like he’s two seconds away from barging into Jungkook’s room himself to check on him. 

At least Namjoon isn’t the only one.

“Exactly,” Hoseok nods, tries to be reassuring too, but there’s a severe pout starting to form on his face that betrays the concern he’s trying so determinedly to dissuade from the others. “Physically, he's fine,” he adds.

Physically.

But that's not really the problem, is it? Jungkook's body always bounces back. He’s young and he’s strong and he has a bull-headed determination to always pull through no matter what.

It's the rest of him that Namjoon is worried about. The part of him that can’t physically bleed but that still aches all the same. The part of him internalizes every little negative thing that ever happens until he has himself convinced that he’s somehow a bad person just because he fucks up sometimes.

Jungkook shoulders guilt like it’s an Olympic sport, and this will only have him gunning for gold.

They avoid directly mentioning the accident around him for the rest of the day, each of them preferring instead to just show him that they’re there for him in their own little ways.

Seokjin messes around and teases him as he always does, trying to bring a sense of normality back to it all. He’s more careful than usual though, and they all notice. Jungkook probably most of all. When he smiles it comes out looking forced, and he only ever makes a half-hearted attempt at retaliating when it looks like Seokjin might actually cry if he doesn’t. Taehyung plays games with him, or tries to at least, because it never seems to last long. Jungkook will indulge him for all of ten minutes before abandoning the game with a small smile and an I’m tired, hyung. Maybe later? Jimin and Hoseok coddle him far more than usual, kissing and hugging him whenever he’s within arm’s reach, and it might not have been so obvious if it weren’t for the way they then stubbornly refuse to let go, also looking near-tears whenever he eventually does pull away.

Yoongi is the only one who actively tries not to make a fuss because he has the good sense not to. He just takes care of him as quietly and fiercely as he always does, only slightly less quietly than usual. It still seems to speak volumes to Jungkook though; even such a small change is enough to have him shrugging guiltily whenever Yoongi brushes his hair away from his eyes or wipes stray food from the corner of his mouth or offers to cook him his favourite meal.

He reacts to all of it in the same way. Like he doesn’t deserve it. Like it’s far too much for him to even consider accepting.

Namjoon isn't sure what to do. His way of dealing with things has always been to just sit down and talk about them directly before they even get the chance to sit inside him and fester into some unpleasant sadness that will take days to shake off.

That doesn't seem to be what Jungkook wants or needs right now though, so he's at a loss about what he could possibly offer to make him feel better. Physical affection isn't his strength. Games confuse him most of the time. The best he can offer is a smile and a pat on the back whenever he sees him, and he just hopes that Jungkook knows he's there if ever does need to talk.

Whenever that happens, he’ll be there to listen.

Nov. 3

Namjoon hopes, naively, that things will somehow magically get better overnight.

But they only get worse.

The day following the accident, they wake up to various versions of it spreading all over the news. It’s on TV, it’s online, it’s everywhere . Namjoon barely pays attention to any of it, too worked up to be able to focus on anything at all except for the small pang of anger that throbs like a severe headache at the back of his mind.

He’s barely awake and he’s already cursed at his phone at least three times scrolling through different articles. He curses the news, curses the world and their place in it, curses everything that’s led to this impossible pedestal they've been put on which means that something as insignificant as this should make headlines.

It’s not even like it’s honest reporting either. Namjoon has been in this industry long enough to recognize when a story is being twisted and broken down into buzzwords and clickbait aimed at getting the most hits possible rather than getting at the truth.

Car accident.

Police involved.

Collision.

Reckless driving.

“Shit,” Yoongi mutters after Namjoon shows him the article on his phone. “He's not going to take this well.”

“No,” Namjoon sighs. “He's not.”

Hiding the news isn’t exactly a viable option. But no one wants to come forward about it either. Giving Jungkook any kind of sensitive news has always felt a little cruel, because he wears his heart so openly on his sleeve and no one wants to watch his face fall or his lip tremble as he tries to put a brave face on and say that he’s fine, hyung; really. Don’t worry about me.

They all worry. They’ll always worry. He’s Jungkook, their Jungkook, the boy they’ve loved and raised and watched grow over so many years that any pain he feels just feels like their own.

So no one says anything. They wait until the last possible second when Jungkook ends up walking into the kitchen yawning and stretching only to freeze at the sight of six pairs of eyes on him.

They probably could have handled this better. But they don't. There are too many uncertainties at play, too much room for hurt and for somehow feeling responsible for that hurt even though all they did was pass the news along.

Jungkook looks tired, like he very clearly didn't get much sleep last night. His hair is a mess from the obvious tossing and turning, and his eyes are a little red and puffy. Namjoon's mind is immediately overwhelmed with images of him crying into his pillow, all alone, and it cuts a hole so deep inside him he doesn't know if he'll ever feel complete again. He’s not even that much of a crier himself, but this sight alone is enough to bring a vague feeling of overwhelming sadness crashing down over his heart.

“What,” Jungkook asks flatly. This tired, all the usual formalities and honorifics have fallen away. 

“We're just discussing who among us should go and burn Dispatch down to the ground,” Jimin bites out pleasantly through clenched teeth.

“Dispatch?” Jungkook frowns. “What have they done now?”

They all look at each other. Is it better if one of them tells him, or if he finds out about it himself?

Too late, Jungkook already has his phone out, fingers tap-tapping against the screen with a frustrated huff. After a few seconds they slow to a complete stop, presumably to hover over the Dispatch article in question, and Namjoon holds his breath, bracing himself for the worst. His whole body goes tense, like it’s ready to spring into action at the first sign of danger.

What that danger is, he’s not quite sure. He just knows that for Jungkook he’d fight it off in a heartbeat.

Jungkook remains remarkably calm. A lot calmer than any of the rest of them had been after reading it, anyway. There’s no swearing like Jimin, no quiet outbursts like Seokjin and Namjoon. No vicious silence like Yoongi and Taehyung, both of them still steadily seething in one corner of the room that Namjoon can almost see the anger rolling off them like a physical pulse. (Hoseok still looks like he’s trying to process how he feels about it all, cycling through several emotions a minute.)

Jungkook just reads stubbornly on, facial expression changing from tired to confused to a frustrated blush as he continues to skim through the article before slipping carefully back into neutral when he’s done.

“I guess I had it coming, huh.”

“Jungkook-” Hoseok starts to protest, scowling (he seems to have settled on feeling angry just like the rest of them), but Jungkook waves him off.

“I’m okay hyung,” he says. “I just need to go deal with this.”

When he smiles, it barely contains a fraction of his usual easygoing warmth, and Namjoon seethes almost to a boiling-point. “ You don’t have to do anything,” he says, harsher than intended. He can’t help it; there’s just a lot of anger festering inside him right now, all of it threatening to spill over. “We’re a team, Jungkook. We’ll deal with this together. All of us.”

“This whole mess happened because of me. I should be the one to clean it up, I don’t need you guys getting dragged into it more than you already are. It’s fine, really.”

Nothing has ever felt less fine in Namjoon’s mind as he watches Jungkook retreat back inside his room, looking so distant and far-away from them all that if Namjoon were to reach out his fingers would only slip through thin air.

Jungkook reappears fully dressed not long after, baggy clothes that swallow him whole and make him look even smaller than he already feels right now. He collects his coat by the door as if to head out, ignoring Jimin and Taehyung’s protests and waving off Seokjin’s demand that he at least sit down and eat something first.

He looks sad and tired and lonely , even with so many hands reaching out for him begging him to stay. Begging him to let them help. He’s made his decision, and his decision is to do this alone, thinking for whatever reason that it’s the only thing he can do. 

He’s so good at listening to them until it’s for his own good.

Every protective bone in Namjoon’s body flares up all at once the second he watches Jungkook’s hand reach for the doorknob, screaming at him to go after him. The others all turn to him with similar panic in their eyes, and Namjoon has never felt the burden of being the leader more than he has right now, like he’s the only thing standing between Jungkook’s happiness and the rest of the world continuously trying to bring him down.

He’s already out of his seat and following Jungkook out the door before any of them can say a word.

*  *  *

Jungkook is too fast for Namjoon to catch up with because he has thighs of steel and stupid-good stamina to boot. Namjoon has a reasonable enough idea of where he’s headed though, so he allows himself a few minutes to pick up Jungkook’s favourite dish on his way to the company building.

This isn’t always how it goes when news like this breaks. Sometimes the company calls them first, asking for their side of events and how they would like to deal with it going forward. Sometimes there’s no choice at all, but rarely. Only in the case where something severe should happen, and thankfully that hasn’t happened to them much at all. After that, they’re guided through what they might need to say and do next to minimize any particular story’s traction or potentially damaging fallout.

Occasionally, like today, they’re the ones to flag it up first. Not that Namjoon doesn't doubt that the company knows already given the widespread nature of the news already.

He finds Jungkook hesitating outside their management team’s office, fiddling with the long sleeves of his black shirt as he chews anxiously at his bottom lip.

It's never easy, having to do this. Feeling like you're confessing to your parents that you broke their favourite vase and waiting for the inevitable slap on the wrist. The dreaded ‘ you did something perfectly normal which would have been acceptable and completely un-noteworthy if you were a normal person but because you’re famous you have to face the consequences tenfold’ conversation. A necessary evil he supposes, with the amount of attention on them these days. They can’t afford any big slip-ups right now, and it’ll only get worse the bigger they get.

But it's still hard, feeling like your life isn't your own. Like your mistakes are part of some bigger picture when they really shouldn't be. All they should be is your own to learn from, not something for the world to pass unsolicited judgement on.

Not wanting to startle him, he hovers until he's just within range of Jungkook's line of sight. Jungkook still jumps when he sees him though, and it belies just how much this must be getting to him despite the brave face he’s been trying to put on. He's usually steady as a rock most days, nothing much capable of phasing him (beyond the unexpected ding of the microwave when it’s done, his fear of which Namjoon still can’t understand).

So it's very telling that Namjoon's appearance alone should be enough to shake him.

“Ah, hyung,” he breathes out around a half-smile, trying to blink away his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Namjoon considers telling him the truth. That he’s worried sick, that they’re all worried, and that they don't want him to go through this alone.

Instead, he lifts the bag of food up that he's still holding in one hand and says, “I brought breakfast. You left in such a hurry that you didn’t get to eat and I was worried you’d be hungry. Can’t have you passing out on us during practice later.”

It's better if they pretend to focus on the future instead of the imminent shit he's about to go through. Like this is just an unimportant, momentary blip in their day, even though they both know it's not. Not between a world determined to see them fall and Jungkook's own quiet determination to allow himself to be tipped over the edge.

They head to Namjoon’s studio where they eat together in semi-silence. Namjoon tries to keep conversation casual, but it's hard when it's never been his strength and when all he can think about is reaching across the table for Jungkook's hand. To grasp it and not let go until he understands that he doesn't have to do anything, any of this, alone.

Jungkook tries to humour him, which is somewhat encouraging. He's not entirely beyond pretending, at least. It's only when that thin veil of composure begins to slip away completely that Namjoon will really start to worry. 

In the last few minutes right before Jungkook stands up to head back to the office, Namjoon can't fight off the urge to reach out and hold his hand. His fingers twitch restlessly until he finally raises his arm, determined to see the motion through, but then the self-conscious part of his brain kicks in at the last second and he ends up awkwardly grasping at Jungkook’s sleeve instead.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” He figures it's better to ask rather than to just show up uninvited. He owes Jungkook some autonomy in this situation, at least.

Something restless flickers behind the deep umber of Jungkook's eyes, and Namjoon worries for a moment that he might say no. He’s not sure what he'll do if that’s the case, not when every fibre of his being is screaming at him to stay by his side no matter what.

But then the flicker settles into something firm, a timid but resolute fire.

Jungkook nods, and Namjoon feels for the first time that day like he can finally breathe.

They aren’t in the office for long. They ask for Jungkook’s version of events and there are some questions about how the story got out and what comes next. 

Namjoon hates it. He hates every second that he has to sit there and watch Jungkook recount the story only to grow smaller and quieter until he’s almost all folded in on himself in shame.

It really is so much less dramatic than everyone else is making it out to be; he bumped into the back of a taxi causing a minor dent, no one was hurt, and he settled everything immediately and exactly as he should have with both the taxi driver and the police. End of story. Certainly nothing worth getting blasted all over the news for.

Still, they decide it's best to release an official statement about the incident:

“Both the victim and Jungkook did not sustain any major injuries. The scene of the accident was resolved and police questioning was completed according to the due process, and an amicable settlement was made with the victim afterwards. We once again apologise to the victim, and we also express apologies for causing concern to fans.”

The intention is to mitigate any potential issues and to try and cover it on their own terms to avoid the story being twisted too much into something it’s not, though unfortunately most of the damage has been done already with the story getting out so early. Even after the official statement is released, Namjoon still finds various media outlets trying to shape and mold the story to fit their own destructive narrative, some of them even going so far as to question the legitimacy of the statement.

Is it even true?

What are they trying to hide?

I bet they paid a pretty price to cover this up.

Headline after headline and comment after comment the story snowballs into something almost unrecognizable. Namjoon eventually has to shut his phone off completely for fear of what he might do if he has to read another trashy, half-brained attempt at journalism.

They all have something to say about it. All these people who don’t know and don’t care and never will, each of them recycling snippets from their personal lives like currency in a broken game.

This shouldn't matter; none of this should matter. No one got hurt. Everything was settled amicably. Jungkook did absolutely everything right given the circumstances. But because of who they are, because they're famous and they're superstars, their lives simply aren't their own anymore. There's always going to be some part of them in the spotlight, some part of them under constant scrutiny as the world waits with bated breath for an opportunity to tear them down.

Privacy is a luxury they seldom experience these days, and while Namjoon has learned over the last few years how to make his peace with it, right now he can't help but hate it with every fibre of his being. Jungkook is hurting and blaming himself for something so unimportant that it shouldn’t even matter. And there’s very little Namjoon can do about it.

If circumstances were different, they would already be forgetting about it. But that's just not how their lives work right now.

Jungkook leaves the meeting significantly quieter than when he went in, and remains that way for much of the journey back to their dorm. It’s this exact brand of quiet that Namjoon had been afraid of; the one that arrives when the mask slips away completely, heavy and unbidden, to seep into the cracks of his pain. And there’s nothing he can do about it except to keep a steadying hand on Jungkook’s knee just to let him know that he’s still there. 

Always will be, he thinks, even as Jungkook turns his head to look out the window, turns back to look at the floor, turns everywhere to avoid having their gazes cross.

*  *  *

When they arrive back, the others are all doing a very poor job of pretending like they haven’t just been anxiously waiting around for them to return all morning.

At a quiet nod from Jungkook, Namjoon explains that the meeting went okay and that they’ve released an official statement and hopefully it will all die down soon. Jungkook snorts at that last part and it breaks Namjoon’s heart, re-igniting the anger that burns deep inside him. It’s better than feeling hollow, he supposes; though when he looks at the dejection lining Jungkook’s face, hollow still seems like all he’s able to feel.

He misses his smile. It’s barely been a day, but he misses the smile that usually sparks so easily on Jungkook’s face. It’s absent all through dance practice, absent all the way home, absent even when they all try so hard to rekindle even a fraction of its glow.

They decide to order in after practice, preferring to cocoon themselves within their little septet rather than having to make the effort to go out without being seen. As much as they all try to keep the mood light, when one of them hurts it tends to reverberate like a pained memory through the rest of them. Seven years together has given them a certain symbiosis that none of them ever really expected, and it can be a comfort as much as it can be a burden.

Right now it’s a little bit of both. They’re all sad because Jungkook is sad; but equally, it means Jungkook has six pairs of shoulders to lean on.

Not that he seems able to recognize that at the moment. All he can see is the damage he thinks he’s caused, turning his knuckles white where they’re gripped around the bottleneck of his drink.

He looks like he’s been biting his tongue all night trying to keep himself from breaking down, and it’s only when Hoseok’s arm comes up to wrap itself warm and secure around his fragile-looking frame that he finally cracks.

“I'm sorry,” he chokes out, turning to bury his face in Hoseok’s neck as he curls up under his arm.

Namjoon surprises himself with how much he suddenly wishes it were him pulling Jungkook tight against his side, enough that he has to look away for fear that it will show on his face. How he feels isn’t important right now; all that matters is that Jungkook is getting the love and comfort that he needs, regardless of who that comes from or how they express it.

“Sorry for what?” Jimin asks.

“For making us look bad. For...For making you guys have to go through this too even though it was all my fault.”

I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be here.

He doesn't say it, but he doesn't have to. Namjoon can hear it clear as day in his tone.

He wants to say something, but Yoongi beats him to it. “It's not your fault people can’t seem to recognise what qualifies as actual news these days,” he says gently, though the firmness of his voice belies just how strongly he feels about all of this. “I mean for fuck's sake, no one was even hurt. And you did everything right given the situation.”

“He's right,” Namjoon adds. “The only reason it even made the news is by virtue or who and what we are. It doesn't reflect badly on us; if anything, it reflects badly on those who entertain it long enough to even consider it news.”

“Can't take a shit without it somehow ending up in the news,” Yoongi mutters.

It makes Jungkook laugh. It’s a watery thing, a fragment of his usual brand of loud, unabashed joy, but it’s there. It gives Namjoon hope. “Still…” he sighs, nuzzling further against Hoseok’s side. “I should have been more careful. What if it had been worse? I could have seriously hurt someone.”

Namjoon offers him a smile, shrugging. “Accidents happen, Jungkook-ah. We can’t always be perfect, no matter how much everyone might expect us to be.”

It's stifling. Namjoon is grateful for the opportunity they've been given, grateful for all the love and support they receive, but this lifestyle is so stifling. And it's very hard to tread that line between gratitude and resentment sometimes.

For the way it's making Jungkook's eyes look, so empty and devoid of their usual sparkle, right now he's leaning more towards resentment.

Namjoon has always felt bolstered by their constant glow.

Now he just feels like he's drowning.

Nov. 11

Jungkook’s subdued mood stretches on for several days. He wakes up quiet, he goes to dance and vocal practice quiet, and he’ll often wait on the sidelines to be invited into conversation before actively engaging with any of them.

He also refuses to drive anymore, and that probably hurts Namjoon to see most of all.

Jungkook has always loved driving. When Namjoon had asked him about it, he’d said he loved the relative freedom it gave him. That it felt like he’d been given a key to unlock the whole world, because technically it meant he could go anywhere. Realistically, he knew he couldn’t; but he’d said that just to have that possibility at his fingertips was enough.

It had filled Namjoon with such relief to hear him say that. It was so important for them to unlock that sense of freedom in a lifestyle that on so many occasions can feel like being trapped in a box. Especially for someone like Jungkook who’s grown up knowing little else, who’s lived and breathed every second of this career so viscerally that it’s sometimes difficult for him to dissociate his stage persona from his regular, off-stage self.

So yeah, it hurts to see him like this now, seemingly happy to let his car turn to rust almost like he’s convinced that it’s cursed. That he really will inevitably hurt someone if he ever touches it or goes near it again, or that people will somehow judge him for it if they see him driving again. It hurts, deep in Namjoon’s bones in that part of him that he so often keeps to himself, to watch Jungkook lose that sense of freedom.

He sees the others notice it too, and sees the different ways in which they subtly try to encourage Jungkook back towards driving again; or at least to make him smile again without him looking guilty for it every time.

They ask if he can give them a lift to a store, or to a gallery, or to a spot just outside the city where the dusty-grey concrete gives way to the deep green of the surrounding countryside.

And every time, Jungkook gives them the same answer. “I’m sorry hyung, I can’t today. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Another time comes and goes, and still his Mercedes sits gathering dust in the garage.

Namjoon tries to wait it out. He hopes it’s just a temporary aversion, that Jungkook is just a little shaken up from the accident and all he needs is a bit of time before he’s comfortable enough to get behind the wheel again. But day by day it becomes increasingly clear that he just doesn’t ever intend to get back to driving, at all.

It’s at that point that Namjoon decides silence just won’t do anymore. Being quiet makes him feel useless and does nothing to soothe the phantom pain he feels every time he watches Jungkook leave with his coat on and his car keys abandoned by the door. It hurts too much to see Jungkook like this and to not be able to do anything about it.

So, he devises a plan. A simple one, and not very robust, but it’s a plan and it gives him something to cling to.

“It’s not going to work,” Yoongi cautions when he brings it up one day. “We’ve all tried talking to him. He won’t listen.”

Next to him, Jimin smirks quietly to himself. “I don’t know, hyung…I’d say if anyone has a chance at getting Jungkook to listen, it’s Namjoon-hyung.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he’s been looking up to you since he was thirteen, and after almost ten years he still looks up to you. He always listens to you. It’s like your word is gospel or something.”

“He’s right,” Seokjin chimes in. “Much as it pains me to admit it, you are his favourite hyung.”

Namjoon flushes. “That’s not true. You know he loves all of us.”

“Oh, absolutely. It’s just…”

“Something about the way he looks at you,” Taehyung finishes. “It’s special.”

Special.

Namjoon gets it, in a way. Whenever Jungkook turns his sweet, doe-eyes on him, it makes his heart swell with an unspoken tenderness. But he’s always felt like that. In all the years that they’ve known each other, Jungkook has always made him feel that way. So it’s hard to see it as anything other than normal when that’s all he’s ever known.

Maybe that’s what makes it special. That, apparently, Jungkook’s admiration has been such an unwavering constant in his life that it's blended seamlessly into the very fabric of his reality.

What others call special, he just calls home.

It’s that same sense of home that’s tugging at his heartstrings now, making him feel like he has to do something. He can’t just sit by and hope for things to get better anymore, not when it’s making him feel so empty inside to see Jungkook moping around.

So he clings to a fragment of a plan, hoping against all hope that something good will come from it. He doesn’t really care what, as long as it can bring him closer to figuring out what’s going on inside Jungkook’s head so he can begin to understand and begin to help.

“Use your powers for good, hyung!” Jimin calls out just as Namjoon is about to close the door to their dorms behind him, a single location and a single purpose in mind. “Make him happy, for all of us.”

He smiles to himself, thinking, I’ll do my best. He doesn’t say it out loud for fear of jinxing it. He’s never been one to try and give them too much hope to cling to, and right now he’s so close to hopeless that it’s all he can do not to cling to it helplessly himself.

He just wants Jungkook to be happy again.

*  *  *

He finds Jungkook working alone in his studio.

He has the door cracked open just enough to give the semblance of wanting privacy, but Namjoon knows him well enough by now to understand the gesture for the peace offering that it is. It’s the kind of intimate knowledge about someone that’s usually enough to make him blush, but right now it just makes him feel warm with gratitude. Because it’s going to make this a lot easier, knowing that Jungkook is apparently in a good enough state of mind to willingly show that he wants people to drop by.

Namjoon peeks his head in through the (physically small, proverbially huge) crack in the door, just to check that he doesn’t have his headphones on that he’s not napping at his desk again so he doesn’t end up scaring him. He looks like he’s working on a video, head ducked towards his computer screen like he’s waiting to be absorbed into the digital space in front of him, and Namjoon can’t help the fond smile that stretches across his face at the sight because it’s just so wholly and endearingly Jungkook. Namjoon has been telling him for weeks to get glasses or contacts or something to make his life easier instead of constantly squinting at screens all the time, but he won’t ever listen.

He raps his knuckles gently against the door to catch his attention, smiling when Jungkook glances back at him over his shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “Is it okay if I come in?”

Namjoon would have called Jungkook’s resounding smile relieved, but Taehyung’s words echo at the back of his mind.

Special.

“Hey hyung,” he replies, pivoting around in his chair so he can give him his full attention. “Of course; what’s up?”

Namjoon loves the way Jungkook’s voice softens around the honorific. It feels just as special as the way he’s looking at him now; like it’s something private, a secret shared just between them. It shouldn’t sound as special as it does given that he hears it from plenty of other people, but coming from Jungkook it just...feels that way. It has a certain weight to it that he doesn’t get from other people who address him that way.

He can feel Jungkook’s gaze tracking his movements as he wanders further into the room, still without saying a word, to perch at the edge of his desk. He’s trying to find the best way to open the conversation that makes it seem natural and not like it’s the only thing that’s been on his mind for the better part of the last twenty four hours.

“Well,” he starts. “Uh. I’ve been doing some thinking lately.”

Jungkook waits for him to elaborate, raising an eyebrow when he doesn’t. “O...kay? Thinking about what?”

“You,” Namjoon blurts out. “You, uh...car. Driving. And me. Also driving.”

Jungkook looks appropriately confused, and Namjoon honestly can’t blame him. The last time he remembers being this incoherent was when he’d seen Jungkook working out shirtless for the first time and three people had unsuccessfully tried to engage him in conversation before he’d realized just how far he’d zoned out.

Funny how all incoherent roads seem to conveniently lead back to Jungkook somehow.

“What?”

“Wait, hold on,” Namjoon flushes, running an awkward hand through his hair. “Let me try that again.”

“Why? I think you’re doing great.”

Namjoon wants to frown, but there’s a sparkle in Jungkook’s eye that he hasn’t seen for weeks so he lets it slide. “I’ve been thinking ,” he tries again, “about driving. Specifically, I’ve been thinking that I...I want to learn how to drive.”

Jungkook's smile falters slightly. “Oh?”

“And maybe, if you’re up for it, I…I’d like you to be the one to teach me.”

This is pretty much the essence of the plan. Namjoon wants to learn how to drive, he really does; and no doubt he'd have a plethora of driving instructors to choose from if he were to search around properly. But he wants Jungkook. Because he has this idea that maybe, just maybe, that by going through the motions with someone else it might help Jungkook become more comfortable with driving again.

It's not a foolproof plan, and it kind of relies entirely on Jungkook saying yes right now, but he reckons it could work. At the very least, it might distract him for a few weeks until all of this blows over.

Jungkook’s smile falls away completely to be replaced by a look of surprise. Namjoon can’t tell if it’s good-surprised or bad, but he clings to the certainty he'd seen in Jimin's eyes when he'd pointed out that Jungkook always listens to him and hopes it's the former.

“You want me to…teach you how to drive?” The way Jungkook says it, he sounds like he doesn't quite believe what he's being asked to do.

Namjoon's hope falters just a little bit. “Yeah,” he replies, pausing briefly to scratch at the back of his neck. "Only if you’re up for it, of course. I just thought, y’know, why not?”

He can't tell whether reaching out to touch him will help or not. He wants to, wants to touch and reassure and show Jungkook that he's here and everything is okay, but he's not entirely sure if he'll be welcome.

The last thing he wants is to pressure him into this, to make him feel patronised to the point that he feels like he has to do it.

“I-” Jungkook stops, blinking a few times in quick succession. “But why me?”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to falter.

Obviously, the main reason he wants Jungkook to teach him is to try and help him overcome his newfound aversion to driving, but it’s not like he can just say that. It sounds too much like pity, too much like he thinks he knows what’s best for Jungkook and that he’s telling him what to do rather than asking him what he wants.

The most likely way to get him to listen and agree is to frame it as if Jungkook is the one doing him a huge favour. “I think you’re the best driver,” he blurts out. “I mean - compared to the others, I think you’re the better driver. And I want to learn from the best.”

Jungkook shoots him a funny look. Not quite amused, not quite disbelieving, but somewhere at the intersection of the two. “I literally got into an accident like a week ago.”

“...Only a little one though.”

Jungkook snorts. “You really want the only one of us that’s ever been in an accident to teach you how to drive?”

“Well, sure,” Namjoon scrambles to find a suitable explanation. “Given my track record with most other things in life, I’d rather have someone who already knows what to expect from an accident to teach me.”

“I don’t think you’d be that bad.”

“Maybe not,” Namjoon shrugs. “But I’d rather have you there as my safety net than anyone else. Just in case.”

He smiles, hoping it comes across as genuine. He hadn’t really thought about it until now, but Jungkook really is the one person he’d rather have next to him in the car.

Jungkook considers his face for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth in quiet contemplation. Namjoon worries that he’ll say no, but he’s prepared to accept whatever decision he makes. At a certain point he has to know when to step back and respect how Jungkook wants to handle the situation. Pushing him before he’s ready won’t do him any good. Won’t do any of them any good.

Jungkook looks down briefly, breaking eye contact. When he looks back up, Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat.

‘Special’ doesn’t quite cover it, he thinks. There’s an entire ocean of admiration contained in Jungkook’s eyes, one he desperately hopes he can live up to some day.

It’s simultaneously surprising and not at all when Jungkook breaks out into a small grin.

“Sure, hyung. Why not. I’ll teach you how to drive.”

Nov. 12

Because Jungkook is the type of person who applies himself 100% to any situation he’s ever given, Namjoon fully expects it when he comes knocking on his studio door the following day with an entire driving schedule outlined.

It’s a lot, and Namjoon realizes with a start that oh shit, this means I really am going to have to learn how to drive, but it’s simultaneously a huge relief. Because it means that it’s already working. Any amount of time that Jungkook spends on this is time that he probably would have otherwise spent worrying about what had happened. Going to the effort of making a schedule is already proof of that.

“We need to cover the basics first before we even think about getting you behind the wheel,” he explains after dumping what appears to be at minimum a ten-page document on Namjoon’s desk. “There’s more to driving than just...driving.”

Namjoon eyes the document apprehensively. “I see.”

“You don’t need to learn everything right now! Just enough road-safety basics to not be a complete danger to others when you start driving. The rest you’ll only need to know for whenever you want to pass your theory test.”

And oh shit, Namjoon is really, really doing this, isn’t he?

Jungkook is a good and patient teacher, enough that Namjoon worries this newfound dynamic between them might awaken something in him. They go through the basics together, and Jungkook will periodically quiz him just to make sure he's retaining it. Namjoon surprises himself with how much he actually does remember given that he spends the majority of his time marvelling at the little mole beneath Jungkook's bottom lip and wondering what it would be like to card his fingers through his long, grown-out hair.

(He really wishes this were the first time he was having these impulses, but it's not. Someday he's really going to have to look into why that might be, but today is not that day. Tomorrow won’t be either if he hasn anything to say about it, nor the day after that. But one day, maybe)

With the way Jungkook's laughing and talking more than he has in weeks, it's honestly a miracle Namjoon retains any information at all.

*   *   *

He arrives home late that night after practice feeling like he’s floating on air. He’d seen flickers of the usual Jungkook pop up all afternoon, and it makes him feel so good. Because this is what Jungkook deserves. Happiness . The freedom to be happy and not to feel like he's taking up space by being happy simply because he doesn't think he's earned the right.

The others notice too. Yoongi looks as relieved as Namjoon feels, and he shoots him a begrudging thumbs up when Jungkook isn't looking. Hoseok and Jimin are also quick to realize that Jungkook is finally leaning into their touches again, and they use it as an excuse to smother him in as many cuddles as possible while also trying to make it look they haven’t been going through some kind of Jungkook-withdrawal these last few days. (It doesn't work.) Seokjin is back to his usual banter without looking guilty for it.

Taehyung comes to Namjoon directly and just says, “I told you. Special.” As if those very words haven't been haunting Namjoon since he'd first brought them up.

It doesn't last long, obviously. Partly because of their management team continuously checking in on him to monitor the situation and partly because he's not Jungkook if he's not always, in some way, worrying about how his life and how he carries himself might affect those around him.

At least now when the others rally around him in support, he's a little more open to accepting it and allowing himself to lean on their shoulders.

They eat in again, and it's peaceful in a way it hasn’t felt in a while. Things are starting to feel familiar again at last, all of them able to breathe a little easier now that the air around them has become less stifling. It's not like they're not used to dealing with these ups and downs; with the kind of lifestyle they live, it's not exactly unfamiliar to sometimes find themselves faltering under the weight of crushing expectations.

It's just that when it happens to their youngest, their brightest and most buoyant, their protectiveness seems to kick into slightly higher gear. And they just end up feeling it more. More of the pain. More of the hopelessness. More of whatever it is that makes Jungkook's smile falter everytime he thinks none of them are looking.

(Namjoon always notices.)

By the time they all retire for the night, it ends with Jungkook and Namjoon alone in the kitchen cleaning up. Jungkook because he feels like he has to, like it's somehow compensation for whatever he thinks he did wrong. Namjoon because he worries, and worrying causes him to hover.

“Hyung, you're hovering again,” Jungkook points out with a small smile.

And yeah, it was probably naïve of Namjoon to think that he wouldn't eventually notice and call him out on it, but he can't help that this is just how his worry spills over; silent concern and a stubborn determination to just be present until whatever it is manifests into a conversation or solution of some sort.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, smiling sheepishly. He tries to fight the blush already trying to make itself known on his cheeks, but it’s a losing battle; Jungkook’s smile has turned so soft, he can’t help that it makes him feel like he’s burning up from the inside out.

“It's okay. I don't mind.”

“You don't?”

“Not really,” Jungkook shrugs. “It's kind of just like having my own personal, anxious shadow around all the time. It’s almost re-assuring, in a way.”

“Did you really just call me an ‘anxious shadow’?”

“Maybe I did.” Jungkook grins, dipping his hands into the soapy water. “What are you going to do about it?”

Namjoon realizes too late what he's about to do, only having enough time to narrow his eyes with a stern “Jungkook don’t you dare -” before he’s sprayed with a faceful of suds from the sink while Jungkook yells “Begone, foul shadow!” and darts away.

He's not quite quick enough to grab him before he escapes, but he manages to cup some leftover bubbles from the sink which he stuffs down the back of his shirt. Jungkook squirms and swears as the water trickles down his neck, and it’s all the warning Namjoon gets before they’re engaged in a full-blown water fight in the middle of the kitchen.

It ends in a physical tussle, as most things in their dorm do. It's weird because Namjoon is rarely involved; it's weirder because this particular tussle ends with him being pinned against the fridge, Jungkook soapy hands stuffed under his shirt.

But weirdest of all is that Namjoon realizes he’s enjoying it. A lot . Jungkook's giggle buried against his neck, his warm, wet hands pressed all up and down his chest...Yeah. It certainly is a lot and he’s certainly not opposed to absolutely any of it at all.

Neither of them seems to realize just how compromising a position they're in until Hoseok walks in and immediately throws his hands over his eyes with an undignified yelp.

“Can you guys please not feel each other up in the middle of the kitchen for anyone to walk in on? I get enough of this weird, ambiguously sexual tension from Jimin and Taehyung already.”

“We're just washing up, jeez,” Jungkook huffs, untangling his hands from beneath Namjoon's clothes.

It takes all of Namjoon's willpower not to verbalize his displeasure at their absence, because that would be weird, right? If he were to tell Jungkook that actually I would like your hands back on my naked chest please ?

Hoseok eyes them doubtfully. “The last time I checked, dishes get washed in the sink, not under Namjoon's shirt.”

Namjoon flushes. He’s suddenly very relieved that Jungkook’s hands are no longer on his chest, because there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to feel his heart hammering away just beneath his ribcage.

They finish cleaning up without further incident, Namjoon still hovering by Jungkook’s shoulder but feeling significantly less guilty about it with the way Jungkook keeps glancing up every now and then and smiling to himself when he sees that Namjoon is still there. There’s a quiet acknowledgement that neither of them minds this particular arrangement. That it works for them.

They head to bed around the same time after that, Namjoon walking Jungkook back to his room almost like they’ve reached the end of a nerve-wracking first date or something. Namjoon even has the inexplicable urge to lean down and kiss him on the forehead when they reach his door, which.

Hm.

That's new. 

He resists the urge to a point, but the part of him that's just so, so soft for Jungkook still insists on reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. It's gotten so long lately, cascading down in pretty waves to frame his pretty face.

(And wow, okay. Maybe Namjoon should have said no to that last drink. He feels warm all over, warmer even than when Jungkook had his wet hands pressed all up against his skin.)

Jungkook parts his lips like he wants to say something, but he falls silent the moment their eyes connect. Namjoon can't tell if he's blushing, or if it's just the warm glow of the hallway lights making him look that way.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” he offers when Jungkook still doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks for watching me clean up,” Jungkook shoots back with a cheeky smile.

The warmth inside Namjoon spreads. There’s that smile again; back where it belongs.

“Haha, very funny. I helped out too you know.”

“You did,” Jungkook’s smile softens, eyes drifting back to the floor. “And you do. Help, I mean. Just by being around.”

They haven't mentioned it all night. How Jungkook has been a little bit on edge all evening, face growing just a little bit tighter every time he glances at his watch.

“Are you worried about driving tomorrow?”

“A little,” Jungkook says honestly. It's quickly followed by a small shrug. “It's fine though. It's not like I could've magically forgotten to drive overnight, I just. Feel a bit weird, still.”

“I get that.” Namjoon toys with the strand of hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. He’s trying to give his hands something to do, because right now all he wants to do is to cup Jungkook’s face in his hands and press reassuring kisses all over it until he reaches the tight, plush line of his pouty lips. “We don't have to go through with it if you don't want to. I only want to do this if you're comfortable with it.”

There's a quiet determination in Jungkook's eyes when he looks up, the beginnings of a private smile stretching playing at the corners of his mouth. “I want to do this for you, hyung.”

Namjoon goes to bed carrying the echo of Jungkook’s smile in his chest feeling special special special , and resolutely forces himself not to think about just how close he’d come to pressing their lips together.

Nov. 13

Despite his determination from the previous night, Jungkook is clearly nervous at the prospect of getting back behind the wheel.

Namjoon would have rather they started early on in the day so neither of them has time to worry about it as the day drags on, but unfortunately they have other schedules and rehearsals to attend to before they have any free time to head out together. He isn’t even able to keep much of an eye on Jungkook beforehand to check how he’s doing because he has his own reservations about driving to worry about, not to mention the countless meetings he also has lined up right before their scheduled lesson.

It's late afternoon by the time they're both finally free, and they arrange to meet in the underground parking area underneath their dorm complex. Namjoon’s last meeting ends up running late which means that he ends up running late, and he works himself into such a state that by the time he actually arrives Jungkook is the one who ends up looking worried about him instead of the other way around.

“Stressful meeting?” he asks, eyes widening in gentle concern.

Namjoon freezes in his tracks. He's not sure whether it's better to lie and say yes, super stressful, totally the only thing I’m stressed about right now , or to admit that he’s mostly just frazzled because Jungkook has been occupying such a significant portion of his mind lately that he'd been more worried about stressing him out by being late than anything that could ever happen in in any of his meetings.

He aims instead for somewhere in the middle. “A little bit. It mostly just dragged on and then I realized I was gonna be late and I didn't want to make you have to wait and-"

“Hyung, breathe ,” Jungkook laughs, reaching out to clasp both hands on his shoulder. “I'm okay, really. You're barely even late. If you were Jimin I would even call this on time.”

“...Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better.”

“There we go. Now come on, let's get started before I change my mind.”

Before they can start the actual lesson, Jungkook first has to drive them out to a quieter, easier area that they’ve settled on where Namjoon can practice safely. He seems a little apprehensive as he slides into the driver’s seat; his hands hover over the controls like he barely wants to touch them, and there's a definite pause before he even considers plugging his key into the ignition. 

Namjoon had been worried about this. That, though Jungkook might be fine with everything in theory, he could still change his mind at the last second when things turn real.

He doesn’t have a contingency plan in place, because honestly he’s a little bit surprised that they even made it this far in the first place. Not because he doubted Jungkook, but because he doubted himself. Driving scares him more than he’d like to admit, and out of the two of them he’s definitely been the one trying hardest to put on a brave face.

So, he does the first thing he can think of and tries to create a distraction.

“What does this do?” he asks, pointing blindly to the middle of the dashboard.

“...That's an air conditioning vent.”

“And that?”

Jungkook shoots him a funny look. “That's the button that turns the fog lights on. Hyung, are you okay?”

“Totally.”

“Because I promise we'll go through all the controls when we get to the park.”

“I know, I just-” Namjoon searches for the right thing to say. Anything that isn't I'm blatantly trying to get both of us out of your own heads right now. “It can't hurt to get a head start, right? I think it'll help me to go through some of this on our way there.”

“...I guess that makes sense, yeah. Ok, so the fog lights-”

Before either of them knows it, they're on the road. Jungkook ends up turning the ignition on to show Namjoon some of the controls, and after he’s passed that first hurdle it's like he's running on autopilot. Everything falls into place, his body visibly relaxing into the hardwired muscle-memory of it all as he goes through the motions.

He pulls out of the garage with ease, and Namjoon pretends not to notice the relieved sigh that leaves his body as he does.

Two things happen on their drive to the park. One, Namjoon learns that he’s definitely more nervous about the idea of driving than he’d forced himself to believe for Jungkook’s sake. His mind is a complete blur as he watches Jungkook’s hands go through the different controls, all the while trying to briefly explain to Namjoon what he’s doing. Namjoon processes very little of it, too caught up in freaking out over the thought that he’s going to be the one having to do this soon.

And two, Namjoon realizes with a start that there’s something very, very attractive about Jungkook when he's concentrating on driving. He's never really had enough time or even a reason to notice it much before, but right now it’s hitting him with the full force of a derailed freight train heading straight for his poor, already-overwhelmed brain.

He’s not sure if it’s because of the furrowed brow, making him look slightly older than he is. Or if it’s the way the setting evening sun seeps in through the window, outlining him in liquid gold. Or maybe it’s just because he’s Jungkook. Jungkook, who Namjoon has always had a soft spot for; only these days it feels less like a platonic, brotherly form of affection and more like…

Well.

The word love sits like honey at the tip of his tongue. He’s always acknowledged that he loves Jungkook, in the same way that he loves all of them. But this love feels like a more tentative thing; there’s less certainty to it, less of a defined shape. It sits in Namjoon’s bones, waiting for life to be breathed into it. Waiting to be defined.

Namjoon can’t put a definition to it with any certainty right now. All he can do is sit back and appreciate it taking shape in the golden sunshine.

They pull up to the park sooner than Namjoon expects. His mind is still reeling from trying to process all the minute explanations Jungkook had given him during the drive, as well as the not-so-minute realization that he has far less of a handle on his feelings than he’d once assumed.

“Ready hyung?”

Namjoon’s eyes snap up at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Not yet, he thinks. I’m not ready for you yet.

He clears his throat and attempts a smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

They switch sides, hats pulled down low over their faces to avoid any prying eyes that might recognize them in the few seconds it takes them to walk around either side of the car.

Namjoon feels a strange weight fall on his shoulders as he slips into the driver’s seat. Not quite responsibility, although there’s a certain amount of that too. More like...power. Or ‘control’ might be a better word. Like he can go anywhere or do anything.

Like he’s finally been handed the reins to his own freedom.

“Wow.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, voice coming out a little awestruck as he runs his hands along the sleek curve of the steering wheel. “It’s like, I don’t even know how to drive yet, but I feel like I can go anywhere I want.”

Jungkook grins. “That’s exactly what I love about it! Or - what I used to love, anyway.” His smile turns a little sad, enough to pull Namjoon out of his awed reverie. “I think maybe I focused on that a little too much and let kinda let the importance of safety slip past me which is why things turned out the way they did.”

For someone who cares so deeply about the world around him and the people in it, Namjoon doubts very much that that’s true. Jungkook always tries to be careful in everything that he does, sometimes even when he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.

But that doesn’t mean that accidents still don’t happen.

“Accidents happen to the best of us, Jungkook-ah.”

Namjoon knows he sounds like a broken record, but he just wishes Jungkook could see. Could see that he’s still a wonderful person despite his mistakes; that he doesn’t have to become them just because they happen or because they live in a world that insists on convincing people otherwise.

“I guess.”

Namjoon can tell he’s still not really listening, but that’s okay. Hopefully with time, he’ll learn to forgive himself a little more. The road to self-forgiveness is a long one. Namjoon knows more than most, and he still finds himself having to work on it from day to day.

All Jungkook needs is a little more time.

They stay parked under a nearby tree to go over the basic controls again. In theory, Namjoon thinks he gets it; he knows which pedal is supposed to do what, and which button or lever is supposed to turn on this thing or the other. He beams with pride when Jungkook quizzes him and he gets everything right, and then when Jungkook calls him ‘cute’ he beams for an entirely different reason that has nothing to do with pride and everything to do with half-baked realizations of the way his affections change around Jungkook.

The park they’re in has a one-way system that just loops around and around without the need for any complicated maneuvers, perfect for Namjoon to practice getting a handle of the basics like starting and stopping and turning. Jungkook’s car is an automatic, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about changing gears. One less thing to add to the already-tumultuous jumble of thoughts racing through his mind, all of them competing for his attention when all he wants to do is close his eyes and never have to think again.

Thinking is hard. Thinking is what leads to realizations, and realizations about maybe having certain feelings for certain people aren’t something that he can afford right now. There’s too much at stake.

The actual driving is easier than he expects. That still doesn't mean he's very good at it, but he's relieved to find that he can make the car go and stop and turn without any immediately disastrous effects. Jungkook coaches him through the first few loops, helping him to find the right pace that isn't so fast that he freaks himself out or too slow that the car barely moves at all, and by the fourth loop he’s already beginning to relax into it a lot more than he’s thought possible.

When he finally gets it right and nails a full loop around by himself Jungkook beams with pride, reaching out to squeeze his thigh in quiet support, and if Namjoon had been going any faster he reckons he might have crashed for the way his smile sends butterflies fluttering anxiously all around in his stomach.

The hand on his thigh has a similar effect, but he refuses to acknowledge it right now or he absolutely will crash the car.

Namjoon could probably keep going like this for hours. He finds it somewhat peaceful driving around in easy circles, nothing but Jungkook's quiet smiles and gentle encouragement for company. It's so easy to lose himself in it until almost nothing else exists.

Unfortunately the line between them and the real world is a tenuous thing, and it has to catch up to them eventually.

“Does it feel like people are staring to you?”

“Uh,” Namjoon glances at Jungkook, then glances outside, before directing his eyes back towards the road. “Not really, no. But I guess I haven't really been paying attention either. Why, do you think someone's recognized us?”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip. “Maybe. I'm not sure.”

It could happen. It does happen, way too many times for Namjoon to keep track of. He likes to think he's gotten used to it over the years, but really he's just gotten better at pretending to ignore it.

He doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, not really. The fact that he always has to think twice about where he wants to go and how he's going to get there; the way he can almost never just walk down a street without at least one security guard in tow, and even that's pushing his luck.

It's not something a person can really get used to. He doesn't even think it's possible for a person to get used to it. To have the whole world at your fingertips but to still feel so trapped...And you can't even complain about it because you have everything, right?

You have money and fame and people who adore you, what the hell could you possibly have to complain about?

Namjoon can think of a few things.

Like now, this: Jungkook looking almost in a near-state of panic at even the slightest chance that they might have been recognised. They're protected by a hunk of metal that can take them away at a moment's notice, but he still looks scared.

“Hey,” Namjoon turns to him with a soft smile as soon as they pull to a stop behind another car. “How about we get out of here and go get something to eat, hmm? I feel like celebrating my first lesson with some hotteok, maybe from that place in Itaewon that we love.”

It’s like Jungook’s entire body deflates in a single instant, worry seeping out of him in a shaky exhale as he lets his eyes slide shut with a quiet sign. “Yeah hyung, that sounds great.”

“Uh, Jungkook-ah?”

“Hmm?”

“You know I can't drive us there, right? You're going to have to take over now.”

“Right!” Jungkook flushes, eyes opening with a start. He shakes his head, hair falling in messy, beautiful waves around his face. “Sorry hyung. You were doing so well I almost forgot this is your first time driving.”

Namjoon fills with so much pride he feels like the high alone could carry him all the way to the goddamn moon.

He can't help it; praise just tastes so sweet when it's coming from Jungkook's lips.

He loops back around to where they started, pulling to the side of the road so they can switch back over again. Jungkook looks a little bit more at ease when he gets back behind the wheel, and the further they drive away from the park the more the tension seems to seep from his frame.

The sun is setting by the time they reach their destination in Itaewon. Golden light drips into a dark-blue haze, and that too seems to help soothe Jungkook's nerves. The cover of darkness means an added layer of anonymity, and they could always do with a little more of that. Anything just to regain a tiny bit of normality in an otherwise exorbitant life.

They park somewhere quiet before making their way down their favourite street to their favourite street-food vendor; an elderly man who sells the best hotteok they’ve ever tasted, who never questions who they are and always gives them extra even when they don’t ask for it.

Namjoon insists on paying, not that it really matters to either of them - he just likes to treat Jungkook sometimes. He likes seeing his eyes go wide as he tries to sputter his way through a protest, even as a pleased blush threatens to rise to his cheek.

He gives the excuse that he wants to pay him back for the lessons, but Jungkook still won’t have it. “ Hyung ,” he whines, clinging to Namjoon's shoulder so he can hide behind him as the old man smiles fondly at them. “That's not fair, you know I would never ask for anything in return for giving you lessons. I give my time freely.”

And generously, thinks Namjoon. It's been a while since the two of them have spent this much time alone together. It's nice. “I won't take no for an answer,” he says, laughing when Jungkook tries to pry his wallet from his hands. “C’mon Jungkook-ah, just let me. How many do you want?”

Jungkook begrudgingly gives him his order, pouting all the while. Namjoon doubles the amount, because he knows he has a fierce appetite and is only aiming low deliberately so he doesn't feel bad about Namjoon buying food for him.

Jungkook resorts to glaring after that, eyes flicking confoundedly between the sweet-smelling food and Namjoon’s smug face, but there's no real bite in it. He's all soft edges under the muted glow of dusk settling around them, eyes shining with a private kind of happiness when the vendor makes a comment about how well his hyung takes care of him.

He dips his head in embarrassment and clings even tighter to Namjoon's shoulder like he can somehow disappear completely behind it, but Namjoon can feel the pleased smile tucked against his neck even as he tries to hide it.

He also doesn't fight it when Namjoon feeds him, and that's how Namjoon knows he's never serious when he whines about being given things or being taken care of in some way. Because he likes it; he just so rarely admits it. Namjoon isn't sure whether it's because he's the maknae of the group and doesn't like being babied for it, or if he just doesn't think he deserves it.

He'll just have to compensate by taking care of him extra hard. The reason doesn’t matter, as long as he can make Jungkook smile.

They take a walk around the nearby neighborhood together in companionable silence. They're too occupied with trying to eat to talk much anyway, not to mention the way Namjoon's mind has been running in circles all afternoon trying to keep up with all the complicated emotions that keep playing out in his chest around Jungkook lately.

And then they walk around again. Even when they're finished eating and the sun has long disappeared past the horizon, when there's really not much of an excuse for them  to stay, they keep walking. They walk up narrow streets and past bustling buildings, hats pulled low over their faces to minimize the chances of being seen until they reach a quieter point overlooking the city.

“I can see why you always prefer to walk and cycle around everywhere,” he says, eyes dancing under the streetlights as he leans over the railing to watch the city unwind just below them. “This is...peaceful.”

“It can be,” Namjoon replies. He drifts closer to the railing, leaning against it until their shoulders touch. It doesn't necessarily feel accidental, but he tells himself that it is. “It's not always practical though. Not for long distances, and definitely not during the day when there are more crowds around. But it's nice to just get out sometimes. To feel normal. Or as close to normal as we can get.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Maybe I'll start doing it more.”

“Are you only saying that because you don't want to drive anymore?”

They had to talk about it eventually. Namjoon keeps his tone light enough that Jungkook can dismiss it if he wants to, but he feels better putting it out there.

“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugs, avoiding his gaze. “I don't know. Sometimes I wish I’d never even learned to drive in the first place. But there's a lot of things I wish I'd never done.”

“How come?”

“Because…” Jungkook takes a shaky inhale. “I don’t know. I guess because no matter what I do, it feels like I only end up making things harder on other people somehow. I feel like I only ever end up letting everybody down.”

Namjoon's been hurting a little bit for Jungkook for a while now, but at this moment he feels that pain turn from a small pinprick to a bone-deep ache that hangs on his soul with all the weight of an anvil.

He reaches out to cover one of Jungkook's hands with his own, the casual brush of their arms up against each other turning purposeful. “Not me,” he says. “Hey, Jungkook-ah; look at me.” Jungkook turns to him with a tiny sniffle, scrunching his nose like he’s trying to hide it. “Not me. You've never let me down. Honestly, most days I don't know what I'd even do without you; what any of us would do without you.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook sniffles again, louder this time, voice stretched awfully, painfully thin.

Namjoon always forgets how easily he cries. Probably deliberately, because it hurts too much to think about. Jungkook deserves all the smiles and laughter in the world, not this; not quiet tears spilling down his cheeks to catch in the moonlight like tiny crystals.

He reaches out to try and wipe them away before they even get a chance to fall, thumb brushing delicately against the soft skin of his cheek. Jungkook instinctively nuzzles into his touch with a soft sigh, and it only makes the pain hanging on Namjoon's soul intensify.

Jungkook is so, so precious to him. It hurts to see him sad. It hurts to see him cry. It hurts to see him ache so openly that he cleaves to Namjoon’s touch like a flower unfurling its petals under the sun for the very first time. He wraps an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer, tucking his face against his neck to give his tears somewhere familiar to fall, and Jungkook goes easily, pliant in his sadness in a way Namjoon has rarely seen him be before.

Namjoon has always had a complicated relationship with the hours that trickle in right before dawn. Nighttime has so often been synonymous with pain and loneliness for him that sometimes it becomes difficult to dissociate the two.

Tonight, he decides to embrace it, just as he embraces Jungkook. Tonight, the darkness doesn’t have to mean pain or loneliness; not when they have each other for comfort.

“You're not a burden,” he murmurs quietly into his hair. “You're an essential part of the team. You're an essential part of-” my life, he wants to say, but doesn't. “Of us. Things just...happen sometimes. Accidents happen and mistakes happen; but you know we'll always have your back, yeah?”

Jungkook tries to nod, still sniffling. Namjoon can feel his tears pooling and drying against his neck. “Y-Yeah.”

“You're a good person, Kook-ah. I know you don't always see it, but you are . Please don't feel bad about something that only got blown out of proportion because of the impossible standards people hold us to.”

“But that's exactly why I should be more careful; I know what's expected of us. I know I should be doing better.”

“Fuck those expectations.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh.

“I’m serious!” Namjoon laughs along with him, squeezing his shoulder. "We can't be expected to be perfect all the time. People make mistakes, us among them.”

It just sucks that we're not always seen as ‘people’. He doesn't say it, but it hangs in the air around them. A ferocious, tangible thing, always lurking in the corner.

As long as they're famous, that's just how it's going to be. They're always going to be elevated to some pseudo-human status that exists beyond the realm of normal expectations.

Jungkook heaves a loud sigh, almost like he’s trying to forcibly put an end to the tears that won’t stop falling. “I guess,” he says, though it sounds a little empty. Like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.

Namjoon can’t really blame him. He’s grown up in this life. He hasn’t had the luxury of knowing anything else, of being truly young and carefree. Free to live and breathe, free to make mistakes in the privacy of his own existence without the entire world feeling like they have a right to give their two-cents about it.

They stay like that for a while, Namjoon’s arm looped around Jungkook’s shoulders as the night grows colder around them, wrapping it’s inky-black tendrils around their weary forms like it wants to pull them under. But with Jungkook’s warmth tucked against his side, Namjoon hardly feels it at all; all he feels is a quiet calmness to the evening that wasn’t there before. It’s a calmness that rolls outwards with every steady exhale that escapes their bodies, reminding them that they’re not alone.

Namjoon likes to imagine that he can see the stars gradually blinking into existence above them. They're too close to the blinding lights of the city to actually see them, but there's comfort in knowing they're there anyway.

Jungkook feels the same way to him. He can't always see him or understand what he's feeling, and sometimes when he reaches out to try and help he feels like he's grasping at smoke that only dissipates between his fingertips. But there's comfort in knowing he's there. That he exists beside Namjoon, in all his pain and all his happiness, taking it all in at his own pace.

Today, he's a star blinking into existence after too much time spent shrouded in darkness.

Tomorrow is just one step closer to his galaxy.

Nov. 14 - 22

They try to get a lesson in every day. It’s not always possible given all the time they have to spend practicing for their fan meetings in Japan at the end of the month and for all of their other end-of-year activities, but they try. Namjoon wants to keep both his own and Jungkook’s momentum going, and if that means pushing for earlier dance practices while squeezing driving sessions into all the little pockets of free time they have, then so be it.

It should be daunting. It should be exhausting. Living day to day either in the dance studio or in the car with very little time for anything else should have Namjoon completely flattened at the end of every day, but it doesn’t. Not when he has Jungkook next to him every single step of the way.

If it were anyone else, driving might have felt more like a chore. But because it’s Jungkook, and because Jungkook has always been able to see the good in things and to somehow always find joy in everything he does, every day feels like an adventure. Even though they drive down the same set of roads every time, every lesson feels new and full of endless possibilities.

That’s just what knowing Jungkook is like, he supposes; what it’s always been like. Every day a chance to find something new to love about life. (Although, if Namjoon were being really honest with himself, maybe he’d be better at recognizing that all roads eventually lead back to finding new and endearing things about Jungkook rather than the world that exists around them.)

And besides, driving is fun. And he’s surprisingly not that bad at it.

Their lessons gradually start to feel less like lessons and more like…private hangouts, just for them. A chance to spend time together. Even if most of that time is spent with Jungkook yelling at him for having the wrong indicator on or for forgetting to take the handbrake off. He always laughs when it happens though, enough that Namjoon is worried that he’s being conditioned into some bad habits.

If leaving the handbrake on or getting the left and right indicators is what it takes to make Jungkook laugh like that, then he fears he’s going to leave these lessons a worse driver than when he started.

As rewarding as it is to finally learn how to drive, it’s infinitely better being able to watch Jungkook open himself up to forgiveness along the way. He still has a ways to go, and he definitely doesn’t listen to Namjoon as much as Namjoon wishes he would, but there are some moments of clarity. Moments where he’ll smile and reach for Namjoon’s hand over the console with a gentle thank you, hyung.

It’s never to thank him for anything in particular, but Namjoon understands.

Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for being here with me.

Namjoon isn’t sure how to tell him that these lessons are doing just as much for him, if not more. Doesn’t know how to tell him that he never wants them to end, and that he’s scared of what might happen when they inevitably do.

All he can do is squeeze his hand back in quiet acknowledgement and trick himself into believing that this is how life is always going to be for them.

After the incident at the park during Namjoon’s first lesson with Jungkook feeling uncomfortable, they also decide to push their lessons to later in the evening when less people are around to be able to recognize them.

It works well enough for its intended purposes. The only problem is that Namjoon usually has studio work to finish up in the evenings, so now Jungkook has taken to driving to pick him up outside the company building instead of meeting back home. Which on the surface seems great, because it means that Jungkook is getting comfortable enough to drive by himself. But on a deeper level, Namjoon now can't stop feeling like he's being picked up by a date every time Jungkook pulls up.

'Jungkook' and 'date' isn't an association that he makes lightly. There are too many complicated emotions involved already for him to even begin thinking about adding mentally dating my band-mate into the mix.

It doesn't help that the others have jokingly started to refer to their lessons as dates as well. It starts with an trivial joke that Jimin makes in passing one evening ( “Namjoon-hyung can't come tonight, he's got a date with Jungkookie” ), but then somehow the others catch wind of it, and Hoseok and Seokjin find it particularly amusing, and they start using it more until it becomes an everyday saying that Namjoon can’t seem to escape.

“How long until your date, hyung?”

“Namjoon-ah! How was your date with Jungkookie?”

“Tell Jungkook that I want to see him after your date.”

It had been fine when Namjoon was the only one privy to the joke. He'd just laughed and brushed it off, squashing his complicated feelings down into a tight ball inside of him so no one could tell how much it was actually getting to him.

But then Jungkook hears about it, and that's when the blushing starts and the awkward half-silence conversations whenever Namjoon gets in the car and it's like taking three steps backwards all over again. Just when they'd seemed to be finding their feet around each other, after years of trying to navigate their respective hero-worship complex and oh-god-i'm-not-good-enough-for-a-hero-worship-complex complex.

Somehow, surprisingly, and perhaps as a testament to how well they'd been finding their feet around each other prior to the others' teasing, they eventually find themselves leaning into it. Just a little bit. At first they do it just to spite the others and freak them out a little, but then it becomes a sort of private joke between them.

(“Where do you wanna go for our date tonight?” Jungkook will ask loudly, making sure the others can hear him, hanging out  the driver's window with his sunglasses perched on his nose like some kind of 90’s-movie heartthrob. 

And Namjoon will lean over the hood of the car so he can pinch his cheek, grinning as he says, just as loudly, “Surprise me, babe!”

It’s fun to hear the others crying out in shock behind them, wondering what the hell they just witnessed. It’s even more fun to pretend like this is how things really are between them, but Namjoon doesn’t admit that last one out loud.)

There's something about driving together at night instead of during the day that softens the edges of their conversations. Jungkook is a little more receptive than usual, and Namjoon a little more honest than he would like to be.

But they make it work.

Namjoon takes the opportunity to keep working towards easing Jungkook’s image of himself in relation to others, giving him a safe place to talk through the various struggles they’ve been having in the spotlight and reassuring him that it’s okay to take a step back from it all sometimes. To put some distance between the everyday him and the him that walks out on stage. Not that they have to be completely different people, because that’s impossible; Jungkook’s far too genuine to ever stop giving little pieces of himself away in everything that he does. They all are.

But sometimes it’s okay to want to take a step back from it all.

And then Jungkook...well. He curls into the honesty of Namjoon’s words with so much ease that Namjoon wonders why he’d been holding back for so long. Wonders why he’d waited so long to allow his hand to rest at the nape of his neck, just because he wants to. Or to call him cute and cool and funny to his face, because what’s the point of being full of so much warm adoration if you can’t share it with the one person who lights you up from the inside just by virtue of existing?

For the way it makes Jungkook flush and squirm in his seat every time Namjoon addresses him with just a touch too much honesty, he wishes he’d started being open with his affection a lot sooner. Maybe he’d been afraid of coming across as patronizing. Maybe he’d thought he would just come across as awkward and clumsy, the words in his head never coming out of his mouth quite like they were supposed to.

Maybe he’d just been afraid, period.

Whatever it is, he feels that fear disappear more and more with every evening that they spend alone together until it sits long-forgotten and gathering dust at the back of his mind. There’s no hesitation now when he pulls Jungkook into a half-hug to smother him in praise during rehearsals. No jittery hands or second-guessing himself when he reaches out to gently card his fingers through Jungkook’s nest of bed-head in the morning to try and smooth it down, only to laugh when Jungkook whines and grumbles sleepily into the crook of his neck, “Tomorrow I swear I’m going to cut it all off.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Namjoon murmurs back, kissing him on the temple. “It’s your life.”

He worries that they might lose their momentum between all their various schedules coming up scattered all around Japan, Korea and the US. They'll have less time to practice driving together with all the travelling and last-minute rehearsing and calls to come be fitted into their stage outfits, and he worries that it'll only become a chance for Jungkook's mind to spiral back into the same old worries as before.

Especially because he can sometimes get more anxious and in his own head whenever they're abroad; Namjoon has noticed the way he'll hide behind his back more than usual, and it's as endearing as it is a little heart-wrenching.

But as it gets closer to their time to leave for Japan, there's something about Jungkook's demeanor that makes him realize he might not need to worry at all. He can see it in the solid, unwavering gleam of his eyes whenever their gazes meet. In the way he holds his head up high instead of trying to shrink himself into the smallest, most unnoticeable form possible whenever he enters a room.

He’s been allowing himself to take up space again. To live and breathe and laugh along with the rest of them without looking guilty for it, and it settles the anxiety in Namjoon's bones into something more manageable.

No; losing momentum isn't what he needs to worry about at all.

What he maybe should be worried about is that the space Jungkook occupies now seems to include the hollow, sundered cavern of his chest inside which his heart seems to exist only to beat in quiet tandem with his smile.

Nov. 23 - 24

If anything, their time abroad only carries the momentum through and strengthens this newfound thing between them. Enough for the others to notice, if all the side-eyes and elbows nudged into sides are anything to go by.

Namjoon threatens them into silence with several warning glares; not even for Jungkook's sake, but for his own. If one more person sends him an amused smirk when Jungkook falls asleep with his head in the crook of his neck, or when he finds himself running an absentminded hand through Jungkook's hair, he's going to scream.

He doesn't even notice any of it happening because they're usually alone when they're like this; it's only when they others make a fuss that he realizes hey, maybe I've been staring at the puckered bow of Jungkook's lip for too long and now it looks like I want to kiss him. Which then just makes him spiral down the road of holy fuck maybe I do want to kiss him and then they're being shuffled into costumes and onto the stage and he has to get through a whole two hour concert without looking like he's going through several emotional crises at once.

So he glares at them until they get the point. No more teasing looks until he can figure out for himself what the hell it is that he's feeling.

He makes the mistake of bringing it up to Jungkook their last night in Japan, the day after their second show has finished. Not even on purpose; it just so happens that Jungkook makes a passing comment about how he’d been glaring at Seokjin over dinner (So what if Namjoon has taken to feeding Jungkook from his own plate lately? That's his business and no one else's.), and he blurts out, “They just keep looking at us like it's weird for us to touch. I wish they’d stop.”

Jungkook freezes, the playful smile dropping from his face in an instant. “O-Oh...I hadn't  really noticed.”

It takes Namjoon a moment to realize the shift in atmosphere he's created. It's only when he turns around from where he’d been packing his suitcase that he notices the tense little crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows as he worries at his bottom lip.

“Jungkook-ah?” he asks. “Hey, what's wrong?”

Jungkook shakes his head quickly, screwing his eyes shut. “Nothing, hyung. It's fine.”

Namjoon can clearly tell that it's not. Ordinarily, he might have let it slide; if Jungkook doesn't want to talk about it now, then he doesn't want to talk about it now. Maybe he'll talk about it later.

But things have changed between them. He likes to think that he's become a safe space for Jungkook, and vice versa. They’ve both taken to letting quiet admissions slip to each other under the cover of night, simply because it feels easier to voice certain truths to each other in this private little bubble they’ve created between them. Truths and secrets they wouldn’t necessarily consider letting slip to anyone else.

So he feels like he can't let it go. Not yet at least, not unless he's absolutely certain that Jungkook does not want to talk about this right now.

Letting his suitcase fall shut with a soft thud, he clambers up off the floor to join him where he's sitting cross-legged on his bed.

Jungkook keeps his gaze steadily focused on the small square of mattress in front of him. Even when Namjoon reaches for his hand, he refuses to look up. But when Namjoon squeezes gently with his fingers, he squeezes back. That has to be a good sign.

“Hey,” Namjoon murmurs. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Jungkook glances up briefly, only to let his gaze dart away again the second their eyes connect. He seems nervous. He seems jumpy. Like he wants nothing more than to pull Namjoon's door open and run away from this whole conversation.

“I know I can,” he murmurs back eventually, though Namjoon gets the strange feeling that he doesn't quite believe it. At least not now, with whatever it is that's worrying him. “I’m just…I'm not sure how to talk about this,” he continues. And then, in a much smaller voice, “Or if I even should talk about this.”

Oh, thinks Namjoon. This is serious.

“I’m sure it can’t be worse than anything I’ve admitted to you in the past,” he says lightly. The atmosphere has grown so heavy all of a sudden; he’d do anything to lessen the apparent burden now resting on Jungkook’s shoulders, catching like poison between his teeth.

Jungkook’s smile is half-hearted when he replies. “It feels like it might be.”

“Hey,” Namjoon brushes his thumb along his cheek, tilting his head to the side until their eyes meet. 

“Hyung…” Jungkook starts, voice fragile, eyes shining with what Namjoon already recognizes as the beginnings of tears. “What if - what if the reason the others are looking at us weirdly is because they know I like boys?”

Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat. “Oh, Jungkook…”

Jungkook sniffles again. “W-What if,” he hiccups, trying to stifle down a broken sound. “What if they know and that's why they think it's weird that I'm touching you?”

Namjoon's heart could break a hundred times over and it still wouldn't feel as painful as this. "They would never think that, Kook," he reassures him gently. “They're family. They love you, no matter what.”

“But what if they don't?”

Namjoon can't help but recognize his own fears reflected in Jungkook's eyes. The fear of being found out; of having the people you love and cherish most in the world turn their backs on you. 

He's more acquainted with that fear than he'd like to admit.

“Then we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“W-We?”

Namjoon smiles, catching a stray tear that's managed to slip from Jungkook's eyes before it can fall from his cheek. “You know I've got your back through everything.”

“I-” Jungkook blinks at him. “You’re not...mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s my fault that the others are looking at us weirdly,” Jungkook replies, rubbing his nose. “And because of how it would look if it ever got out. How it would reflect on the group.”

“We don’t know that that’s true.” If anything, Namjoon thinks, the looks they’re giving us are probably because of me. “And what everyone else thinks doesn’t matter,” he adds. “This is more important than any of that; more important than status or reputation or whatever the hell people think deserves to be affected by this. What matters is how you feel.”

“I mostly just feel tired,” Jungkook sighs, allowing his head to tip to the side until it's resting against Namjoon's shoulder.

Namjoon's arm comes up automatically to wrap around his side so he can pull him closer. “It must have been a lot to keep all of that to yourself,” he murmurs, rubbing comfortingly at the soft curve of his waist. “But I'm glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“I was so scared, hyung,” Jungkook admits. “I wanted to say something for so long but there was never a right time to bring it up with you.” He curls his fingers absentmindedly into the fabric of Namjoon's shirt, almost like he wants to pull him closer. Part of Namjoon wishes he would .

No matter how close they are, somehow it never feels like enough. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” he whispers. “You wanna know a secret?”

“What?”

Namjoon hesitates for a moment. Jungkook’s bravery feels infectious, and he wants to be part of that.

“I…” he starts, mouth feeling dry. Jungkook’s eyes are so gentle as they take him in, not full of any kind of expectations or assumptions, just...there. He clings to that, and takes a small breath in. “I think like boys too.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs. The breath he lets out feels like it’s been sitting inside him gathering dust for a long, long time. It’s nice, to finally get it out there.

“So you're...you're like me.”

Namjoon smiles. “I am. Maybe not as cool or as strong and definitely not as good a driver but…Yeah. I'm like you. And you'll always have me here; someone who understands.”

Jungkook nuzzles close enough that his nose brushes up against the sensitive skin of Namjoon's neck, making him shiver. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Namjoon isn’t sure if it's the touch itself that sends tingles down his spine, or what the touch represents. That Jungkook trusts him. That he needs him. That he finds so much solace in his touch that he's probably not even aware of the way their bodies fit so perfectly together that it makes Namjoon's whole world fall into perfect harmony right along with it.

He’s beginning to realize that there really is no way for him to exist other than where he is right now; Jungkook beside him, the whole world at their fingertips.

Dec. 10

The first time they get to drive together again happens during the few days that follow their U.S. schedule. They have about a week before they have to head out for their next Japan fanmeet, and though they’re swamped with rehearsals for it Namjoon is determined to get a few lessons in before he gets so rusty that he has to start learning from square one all over again.

Unfortunately, the fact that there’s been such a lapse in his practicing already means that things don’t go as smoothly as they should.

The lesson starts out fine. Jungkook drives part of the way out of the city as he always does to find some quieter roads where they can switch over for Namjoon to get behind the wheel, and though Namjoon is a little jittery he gradually eases into the familiarity of the route he’s taken several times already.

The real problems start when they hit a diversion sign about halfway into their usual route.

They could turn back, but Jungkook thinks that guiding Namjoon down some new roads he’s never been on before might be good practice for him. Namjoon is less confident in his abilities, but Jungkook’s soft, half-smile is so certain and so encouraging that he finds his mouth saying ‘yes’ before his brain really has a chance to catch up and think things through properly.

The first part of the diversion is relatively easy, given that the roads are almost identical to every other road Namjoon has been on before. They mostly require him to just drive forward and occasionally make a few turns, and even after several weeks spent without practicing Namjoon does in fact still know how to do those things.

But then they become less similar to what he’s used to. The lanes turn narrower and the bends turn sharper. Even the signs become unfamiliar, all these symbols and colours that Namjoon hasn’t seen before and can’t remember from his theory because it’s been so long since he’s had to remember any of it.

Jungkook must notice his anxiety rising, because moments later he’s got his hand squeezed reassuringly over his shoulder and is offering to take over from him. Which in theory should calm Namjoon down; but because it’s Jungkook and because Jungkook touching him makes him feel all kinds of fluttery inside it only makes things worse.

If Namjoon were a smarter man and maybe a little less hyper-focused on trying to still his beating heart because holy shit Jungkook is touching my shoulder why the fuck do I love that he’s touching my shoulder , he might have said yes. But he’s never been very smart wherever Jungkook is concerned, and he tells him he’s fine and that he wants to continue trying.

And then the roads get more difficult still, enough to throw him off his rhythm. His nerves skid against the immobilising force of his anxiety and he starts to make small mistakes that only add to the pressure, hitting the gas pedal instead of the breaks and turning the wrong indicator on when he pulls up to a junction.

His hands try to do one thing to correct the mistake at the same time that he’s trying to listen to Jungkook’s instructions, and before he knows what’s happening he’s pulling out onto the road ahead of them a little too quickly and a little too sharply.

And, somehow, he completely misses the fact that the light above them is still an angry, glaring red.

Everything that happens after that happens in a matter of very few seconds. There’s some yelling, which Namjoon belatedly realizes is coming from Jungkook and not, in fact, from his own mouth. He’s got his own jaw screwed shut, fingers clutched tight around the steering wheel as he swerves sharply to avoid hitting oncoming traffic. Not that there’s much, and not that they’re going fast, but it’s still a close thing.

“Shit,” he hisses, trying to pull the wheel back around to get them centred on the right side of the road again.  When he glances to the side at Jungkook, he notices that he has his eyes closed and his face has grown pale and he feels guilt settle inside him something quick and vicious. “I’m so sorry Jungkook, I wasn’t paying attention. God, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry. Fuck. Are you okay?”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, he tells himself that he probably just needs a moment to collect his thoughts. They came close to having an accident, and they’re both a little shook up, and the words just...aren’t coming easily right now.

It’s only when he pulls over to the side of the road and can finally turn to look at Jungkook properly that he feels an icy tendril of dread seep into his skin.

Jungkook still has his eyes closed, one hand clutching at the arm of the door while the other digs blunt fingernails into the leather seat by his thigh. There’s just enough light inside the car that Namjoon can tell his grip is so tight that it’s turning his knuckles almost white, and the icy tendril buries itself deeper inside him almost to the point of piercing right through his heart.

“Jungkook-ah,” he tries again. “I’m so sorry.”

Jungkook’s white-knuckled grip only tightens. He looks like he’s making a conscious effort to try and breathe evenly in and out, chest rising and falling in a steady pattern as he lets Namjoon’s apologies wash over him in cold silence.

When things don’t look like they’re going to get any better with them just sitting there in silence, Namjoon makes the executive decision to pull away and drive them to a park around the corner. He recognizes where they are now enough to know that he’s back on familiar roads, so it’s easy enough for him to find his way there. He keeps one hand on Jungkook's thigh the entire time to keep him calm, and Jungkook clings to it like a lifeline, breathing in and out as the world whirls past around them.

The park is a little bit quiet and a little more hidden. He pulls into the far side where he parks the car and shuts the engine off, before unbuckling his seatbelt so he can turn to Jungkook with a tentative smile.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook slowly cracks one eye open. He lets out a loud, long breath before attempting to smile back. “Hey.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Namjoon’s hold tightens on his thigh. “I can tell that it’s not. Talk to me, tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours. Or yell at me some more if you want; I probably deserve it.”

Jungkook snorts weakly. “I don’t think yelling will help.”

It might help me, Namjoon thinks. Getting yelled at is probably less than I deserve.

“What about talking?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkoook pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to try and stop it from wobbling. “I think I just...need a moment.”

“Okay.”

Silence settles around them again in a way that might have been easy once, but right now it just feels suffocating.

The longer it drags on, the more uneasy Namjoon feels. He'd take Jungkook yelling or cursing at him any day over this uncomfortably hollow space between them; what feels like a valley carving itself right into the air where there used to be none.

It hurts. He wants to reach out and touch, wants to reach out and hold Jungkook until they both feel whole again, but he’s not sure if he’ll even be accepted right now.

“Damnit,” Jungkook curses, leaning forward with his head in his hands. “I should be over this. I should be over all of this already, fuck.”

Namjoon isn’t sure what surprises him more; hearing Jungkook curse, or watching him as he pushes his door open with a frustrated sound to clamber out and let it slam shut behind him.

He so rarely gets himself worked up like this to the point of exploding, either physically or verbally, that for a moment the shock of it keeps Namjoon pinned into his seat.

When the shock doesn’t quite pass he has to force himself to nudge his own door open, letting it fall shut with a soft click behind him before he follows Jungkook to where he's leaning against the side of the car.

He still has his head in his hands, and it’s only when Namjoon reaches out to gently circle his fingers around one of his wrists that he allows himself to tentatively peek through the gaps. “I’m sorry hyung,” he apologizes the second their eyes catch in the semi-darkness. “I really thought I was doing better.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Namjoon reassures him, slowly guiding his hands away from his face. He so badly wants to lace their fingers together, but something holds him back. Not now, he thinks. Now isn’t the time for your own personal feelings to get in the way. “ I’m the one who ran a red light and almost got us both hurt. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I should have been paying more attention,” he says, already trying to pull away from his touch. “I should have made you turn around sooner, or at least swapped over with you so I could drive. But I didn’t. God, I really do just keep screwing things up.”

Namjoon allows his hands to slip away. He tells himself it only hurts a little bit, when the reality of it is that it’s a feeling so raw he doesn’t even have a name for it. Jungkook pulling away from him feels like all the air being sucked out of him at once. Like invisible hands reaching inside him to pull at every stitch and seam that usually holds him together and makes him feel whole. 

“That's not true,” he says. He tries to reach for his hand again but Jungkook shakes him off. “Jungkook, hey; this was entirely my mistake. You didn't do anything wrong. You were just trying to be a good teacher.”

You're just trying to be a good person. You always are.

“Not just the driving. I keep screwing up-” Jungkook gestures vaguely to the air around them “- this. Everything. No matter what I do I can't seem to get it right . Someone always ends up suffering because of me.”

Namjoon might have felt frustrated if it wasn’t for the way that Jungkook somehow finding a way to turn someone else’s mistake into his own wasn’t so quintessentially Jungkook . It would almost be endearing if it didn’t hurt so much.

He keeps getting caught up in this idea of trying to live his life according to everyone's standards but his own, and it must be exhausting. So much of this must be coming from that. So much of this pain and frustration at himself, when all he’s really frustrated at is this perfect image of himself that people so badly want him to live up to.

“Then why do I feel so wrong?” Jungkook's voice has gone small again, so small that Namjoon can almost imagine it dissipating through the fragile cracks of the surrounding night air. “Why can’t I let go of it?”

Nothing about you could ever be wrong. 

“Because you care,” Namjoon replies as gently as he can manage, even though every fibre of his being burns with a desire to kick and scream and tear at this phantom thing that always seems to sit between Jungkook’s ribs like a self-deprecating thorn. “Your heart is so big and you care so much, even when it hurts like this. You take everything in and hold it inside you, but it's too much for any one person to handle. It’s too much, Kook. That's why you have us. That's why you have me.”

“I can’t ,” Jungkook shakes his head, smiling sadly. “I’ll only ever drag you down.”

“You won't.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I'll always be angrier at the people who make you feel like this than at anything you could ever do.”

Jungkook blinks. “Oh.”

“You’re not a problem, Jungkook.” When Namjoon reaches out to cup one of his cheeks, he doesn’t pull away. He just stands there, eyes bright and swimming, looking at Namjoon like he so desperately wants to cling to the words that he’s saying. “You’re just a person. My favourite person, even.”

Jungkook blushes and rolls his eyes, but still makes no move to pull away. “You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“And why would I have to?”

“Because you’re the leader,” Jungkook shrugs, looking defeated. “That’s what you do. You take care of us and you try to make us feel better when we’re down. Just like you’re trying to do now.”

“And what if I’m not saying it because I have to?” Namjoon leans in until their foreheads are pressed together. “What if I’m saying it because I want to?”

“Then I’d tell you you’re crazy.”

“Why?”

Jungkook sighs, eyes sliding shut. One hand comes up to hold Namjoon’s wrist, holding him in place. “Because you’re my favourite person. I know what it feels like, and there’s no way you could ever feel that way about me.”

“Well, tough,” Namjoon huffs. “Because I do.”

Jungkook’s eyelashes flutter open to reveal the beginnings of hope, so fragile that it almost gets lost in the burning embers of his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks, voice just as fragile.

Namjoon clings to his hope like a lifeline, latching onto it the same way he latches onto Jungkook’s weary frame to pull him into his arms as he whispers back, “I’m sure.”

He feels Jungkook’s arms wrapping around his middle, and he clings to that too. They’ve both been so terribly adrift these last few weeks in their own ways, too lost in their own feelings to even begin trying to find each other. But he feels like now they finally have, tumbling onto the same hopeless shores and into each other's arms, safe and sound at last.

They don’t say anything after that. They just hold each other in silence, each of them trying to come to terms with the enormity of this moment that feels so simple at the same time. And then-

“Hey, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jungkook’s voice is so firm, so certain of what he wants when he asks, that Namjoon is surprised he hadn’t seen it sooner. Every small glance, every gentle murmur of Namjoon-hyung, every time he’d made Namjoon feel oh-so special just by virtue of looking at him with his sweet (and honest, Namjoon can see it now) doe-eyes, he’d really been asking the same thing over and over again.

Can I touch you?

Can I hold you?

And now-

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes out. His voice cracks around the secret contained in the semi-dark space between them. “Yeah, Jungkook. You can kiss me.”

The please goes unspoken.

The please happens the instant their lips collide, Namjoon’s hands reaching up to cradle Jungkook’s face with a quiet desperation that has been threatening to spill over for a lot longer than either of them probably wants to admit. The please happens in Jungkook’s echoing gasp, so small but conveying so much, as he parts his lips to let Namjoon’s tongue slip inside.

This is a lesson as much as any of the driving had been. It’s a lesson in Jungkook ; what Jungkook likes, what Jungkook wants. What he sounds like when he’s falling apart, fingers twisted in the fabric of Namjoon’s shirt like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. Namjoon stores the knowledge of it, all of it, at the back of his mind for safekeeping. Hoping he can use it later. Hoping this is just the first step of many.

The kiss stretches on for as long as either of them needs. Which is to say, a pretty long damn time. Jungkook kisses Namjoon with all the certainty of someone who knows exactly what they want, whereas Namjoon is the one who kisses back like he’s being knocked off-balance by it all. Like he’s just now discovering that life begins and ends at the edge of Jungkook’s lips and that he might fade away completely if he ever stops.

So he doesn’t. He allows Jungkook to press him up against the side of the car, to untangle his hands from the front of Namjoon’s shirt so he can run them down the length of his body like he’s trying to map it all out before it disappears. He allows himself to be touched and teased and held so tenderly that he feels like his soul could pass through the delicate veil of stars around them and it still wouldn’t feel as earth-shatteringly perfect as this.

When they do eventually stop, he’s relieved to find that life does in fact still carry on, and that kissing Jungkook isn’t so much a cataclysmic ending as it is the beginning of something extraordinary.

Jungkook seems to be coming to a similar conclusion, if the soft wonder brimming in the corners of his eyes is anything to go by. “I didn’t realize kissing could be like this,” he murmurs.

“Like what?”

“Like…” Jungkook takes a moment to collect his thoughts, reaching out to brush his fingers delicately along Namjoon’s bottom lip. “I don’t know how to describe it. Like it’s everything I need it to be, but also not enough.”

Namjoon hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I get what you mean. I think you’ll have to show me.”

Jungkook grins, leaning in to kiss him. It’s gentler than before, less urgent somehow.  “How about now?”

“Mmm...again.”

Jungkook giggles against Namjoon’s lips. He kisses him once more, a little more insistent this time. Tugs his bottom lip between his teeth for good measure “Now?” he whispers.

“Again.”

Jungkook dissolves into quiet laughter. He misses Namjoon’s mouth by about an inch when he tries to kiss him again, lips colliding with the sensitive skin beneath his ear where he tries to bury his joy into the crook of his neck. Namjoon holds him flush against his body, every inch of him tingling at the way Jungkook’s laughter feels when it vibrates through him. 

“I think you know exactly what I mean hyung,” Jungkook chastises when his laughter has subsided enough for him to collect himself.

“Of course I do,” Namjoon grins sheepishly. “Why do you think I never want you to stop?”

“We have to go home eventually.”

“Eventually,” Namjoon echoes. “But not just yet.” He tilts Jungkook’s chin up so he can kiss his smile, smiling himself at how easily he melts into it. 

Special.

Dec. 20 

They’re always busier around the end of the year, but they still manage to find some time for themselves to explore this newfound thing between them.Jungkook takes to kissing easily and enthusiastically, as he does with picking up any other skill or hobby. And just like any other skill or hobby, he wants to practice all the time. He keeps telling Namjoon that he just wants to learn, just wants to get better at it, but Namjoon can see right through him.

“You just want to kiss me.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook admits easily, already pressing a trail of featherlight kisses down Namjoon’s neck. “Is that so bad?”

It’s not. It’s great, really great, in fact; Namjoon just wishes they didn’t have to try so hard to sneak around.

Mostly they kiss in the car at night after a lesson (or in the middle of one, because they’re weak and get so little alone time together anyway), somewhere private and secret and away from prying eyes. But sometimes it happens before they can get away. There are stolen kisses between practice and rushed attempts at getting each other off in the morning before any of the others have woken up. There are clumsy makeout sessions in Namjoon’s studio that have them whining against each other’s lips and coming in their pants like horny teenageers. There are so many secret pockets of desperation spread out throughout their days that one stolen moment becomes several becomes just another risk of getting caught.

It’s difficult to keep their desperation quiet when all they want to do is to have their hands all over each other, all the time; so oftentimes, their lessons are their best option.

Namjoon has gotten good enough behind the wheel now that he can drive almost the entire way from their dorm to the usual roads where they practice without any need for them to swap over. Jungkook had been so proud of him the first time he’d managed to do it, and hadn’t shied away from showing him just how proud he was at all , and they’d ended up being chased up with several phone calls from the others when they didn’t return home for hours, too caught up in each other to notice time slipping by. It was great.

Trying to explain the hickeys to them? Less great.

Still, it gives Namjoon a boost of confidence in his driving. So confident that, one night, he decides to take it upon himself to deviate from their usual route so he can take Jungkook somewhere a little different. Not for any particular reason; just because it’s almost Christmas, and they’ve been working so hard, and he wants to treat him and maybe make out with him somewhere that isn’t a random empty parking lot or some shady spot at the side of the road.

“Hyung, you know you’re going the wrong way right?” Jungkook points out when they set out from the dorms only for Namjoon to turn left instead of the usual right.

Namjoon flashes him an innocent smile. “I know,” he says, not giving him anything else. “Just trust me.”

Jungkook must recognize where they’re going, because his face lights up and he starts to get an excited twinkle in his eye the closer they get to their destination. And Namjoon expected this to happen, because it’s not exactly easy to hide the fact that you’re driving towards a mountain when that mountain is sitting right in front of you.

Of all the peaks in Seoul, Achasan is still Namjoon’s favourite. It has the prettiest views and the fondest memories, and tonight he’s intent on creating some more.

Bypassing the hiking trails, he turns the car up some lesser-travelled roads until he finds the spot that he’s looking for, nestled into the mountain away from prying eyes. He’d made sure to drive up once already with Jimin to check that it was possible, and to make sure that there was enough of a view of the city below to make it worth it.

Jungkook smirks as he watches Namjoon pull a pic-nic basket out of the trunk of the car once they’re parked, eyes shining as he turns away from watching the view below them. “Hyung, are you trying to seduce me?”

Namjoon flushes. “Depends,” he says, carrying the basket over to him before setting it down on the ground. “Is it working?”

“Very much so,” Jungkook nods, already reeling him in for a kiss. “I feel thoroughly seduced.”

It’s a little less romantic than Namjoon had envisaged; it’s freezing out, and darker than he’d anticipated, and it’s overall just very hard to eat when their hands are frozen stiff and they can’t quite see what they’re doing. The wine helps to warm them a little bit at least, but it only makes their coordination worse.

They huddle closer together on the pic-nic blanket for warmth, Jungkook tucked against Namjoon’s side, and he insists that they try feeding each other even though they’re both giggling and a little wine-drunk, and they end up missing by about a mile every time which only makes them laugh more.

Eventually it devolves into them kissing, because of course it does. They’ve both been itching for it all day though, so neither of them really minds abandoning the food or the wine in favour of clumsily finding each other’s lips in the semi-darkness, using the excuse of being cold to sneak ice-cold fingertips under each other’s clothes in search of warm skin.

They're used to this by now, and they settle into a steady rhythm. It's hard not to immediately try to rush into it, because they usually have to be quick when they're back at the dorm when anyone could walk in, or parked somewhere where anyone could potentially spot them.

Right now they have all the time in the world. Or at least it feels that way. They're far enough to be tucked away from the world, and no one is expecting them back anytime soon.

“Slow down,” Namjoon hushes with a quiet laugh, trying to still Jungkook's hands which are already trying to worm their way into his pants. “We have time, Jungkook.”

Time to explore each other properly. Time to properly figure out what drives the other crazy. They've barely scratched the surface as it is; rushed makeout sessions don't exactly give them time to map out the lines of their pleasure. They only give them time to acknowledge that there is pleasure there, ready for them to explore further when the time comes.

And that time is starting to feel an awful lot like now. Namjoon can already feel Jungkook's erection pressing against his thigh as he tries to clamber unceremoniously into his lap, hands still pawing insistently at the waistband of his trousers under all the different layers of shirts.

Namjoon laughs again, loud enough that he has to pull away and hold Jungkook's eager hips still. “Slow down!”

Jungkook pouts, trying to push forward for another kiss. “Don't wanna,” he whines. “Wanna touch you, here. Now.”

This is where Namjoon’s inability to say no to him starts to become an issue. Not that he doesn't want absolutely everything Jungkook is offering him; he does, badly. It's just that their current positions aren't...ideal. His arm is beginning to cramp from trying to hold them both up, the ground is bumpy and sore under his ass, and the darkness around them means that their hands are fumbling around even more uncoordinated than usual.

Not to mention it’s fucking freezing out . 

“Jungkook,” Namjoon tries again, only to be silenced by another eager kiss. “ Jungkook-”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines back, grinding down in his lap, and fuck if that doesn't make Namjoon feel some type of way. 

“Jungkook, seriously-”

Namjoon’s arm starts to wobble beneath him, but before he has time to fix their position it gives completely, sending them both sprawling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and curses.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook’s hands fret around Namjoon’s chest, which had mostly cushioned him during their fall. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Namjoon laughs, grunting as he tries to sit back up. “But you have to slow down, Kook. This pace isn't sustainable and my arm fucking hurts.”

“I can't believe you're lecturing me while I’m trying to make out with you.”

“Don't pretend like you don't love it,” Namjoon shoots back. “I see how you look at me sometimes during meetings.”

Jungkook immediately flushes. “Shut up, I do not.”

“Even Seokjin called you out on it. I've never seen you turn so red.”

“That was unrelated. I just don't like being singled out like that in front of everyone.”

“And when you got off against my thigh later after the meeting?” Namjoon teases, voice low as he grips Jungkook’s chin lightly between his fingers so he can run his thumb along his bottom lip. “Was that unrelated too?”

“Completely unrelated. That's just a product of how I feel about you all the time.”

“Hmm…” Namjoon grins, keeping just out of reach when Jungkook tries to shake his hand off so he can kiss him into silence. “Why don't I believe you?”

“I don't care if you believe me or not,” Jungkook grumbles. “All I care about is you touching me.” He nips at Namjoon’s thumb, grinning victoriously when he hisses and pulls away, already dipping his head down to steal a quick kiss. And then another, and another, and-

“Jungkook, slow-”

“Slow down, I know,” Jungkook sighs against his lips. “I can't help that you just drive me crazy.”

“Well, why don't we move the crazy inside the car where I won't have to worry about my arm breaking or my balls freezing off?”

“Mmm, sexy,” Jungkook drawls, pausing so he can lower his lips to Namjoon’s ear. “Talk dirty to me again, hyung.”

“Jungkook.”

It’s a struggle convincing him to move to the back of the car, but they make it there eventually. They try to shrug as many layers off as they can in the process so they don’t have to worry about them later, but they’d bundled up so much that they still end up almost fully clothed by the time they clamber inside.

Jungkook looks so pretty when he hops backwards onto the seat, eyes shining so bright and so eager as his long hair falls delicately to frame either side of his face. He’s barely inside before Namjoon is already trying to crawl over him, with the single-minded goal of wrecking that pretty little pout until it’s all twisted and falling open around sweet sighs of pleasure.

Namjoon so rarely gets the chance to do much back at the dorms, because Jungkook is so loud. He often has to cover his mouth with his hand or his own lips to try and muffle the sounds he makes, but that only seems to spur Jungkook on more. Something about Namjoon’s hand pressing his face into a pillow as his other hand fists its way around his cock always seems to tip him over the edge until he’s having to physically bite down on his lip to force down the cry as he comes. 

Here too, things turn heated fast. Namjoon barely has the door closed and his lips on Jungkook’s before there are insistent hands already pulling at the fabric of his shirt to try and pull it over his head. He laughs into the kiss, smoothing his hands down Jungkook’s side to try and get him to slow down a little, but Jungkook only gasps and squirms and tries to get Namjoon to tug his shirt off when he’s unsuccessful the first time around.

“Hyung,” he whines, frowning when Namjoon pulls away to smile fondly down at him.

“I thought I told you to slow down, baby.”

Jungkook’s frown quickly turns into a flushed pout. “Don’t ‘baby’ me when I’m trying to get you naked but you refuse to cooperate,” he grumbles. “Just get naked already.”

“I’m starting to think you only want me for my body,” Namjoon teases, laughing at the way it makes Jungkook groan and fall back against the seat.

“Maybe that would be true, if I ever got to actually see it. But you continue to deprive me.”

“I’m not trying to deprive you,” Namjoon reassures him, leaning back down to press a placating kiss against his lips. “I’m just trying to show you that there’s time for us to enjoy this when we take it slow.”

To emphasize his point, he moves from Jungkook’s mouth so he can start to kiss his way slowly down his body instead. Jungkook twitches impatiently once, but then Namjoon’s running soothing hands along the warm expanse skin under his shirt, pushing the material up so he can kiss his chest, and he relaxes back against the seat with a faint shudder of pleasure.

Namjoon takes his time trailing his lips across his skin, kissing between the deep rivulets of his abs as he continues to run his fingers along the softer skin at his sides. He pauses when he reaches his lower abdomen, nuzzling the delicate stretch of skin just above his waistband until Jungkook giggles and complains that it tickles.

“I didn't realize you were so sensitive,” Namjoon teases, leaning back so he can help him shrug out of his shirt.

“Only with you, hyung,” Jungkook replies. He tugs him down into a bruising kiss the second he has his shirt discarded, mouth insistent even as Namjoon tries to slow him down again. “You always know the right buttons to press.”

“I'm just observant.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook agrees easily, kissing at his jaw, his nose, anywhere he can reach. “Well, can your observant ass get undressed now? I'd like to do some observing of my own.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook tugs at his shirt. “Off.”

“So demanding,” Namjoon laughs, but he’s quick to indulge him.

He presses a fond kiss against his cheek before pulling back so he can tug his own shirt over his head. He discards it on one of the front seats, and when he turns back he finds Jungkook watching him with hungry eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he allows them to drag slowly and openly down the length of his torso.

Namjoon forces a smirk, trying to downplay the blush already threatening to take over his entire body. “Like what you see?” he asks, leaning back slightly to give Jungkook a better view.

As embarrassed as he feels, there's something so satisfying about the way Jungkook is looking at him right now; all hungry, hooded eyes, almost like he wants to devour Namjoon whole. 

“Always,” Jungkook sighs, as close to dreamy as Namjoon has ever heard him sound. He pushes himself into an upright position so he can reach for his chest, running his hands almost reverentially from his pecs all the way down to his waist. For once, taking his time. 

He’d been thrilled the first time he’d found out just how much Namjoon enjoyed having his chest touched. Namjoon had been equally thrilled to find out just how much Jungkook enjoyed touching him, only to instantly regret it when Jungkook had then lowered his lips down to suck experimentally on one of his nipples. No less than three people had burst through his bedroom door that evening at the unexpectedly loud cry that had left his mouth before he could stop it, each of them concerned that he’d somehow managed to hurt himself in the comfort of his own bed, claiming “it sounded like you were dying Namjoon, jesus christ."

Trying to hide Jungkook beneath his covers had been one thing; trying to hide a hysterically giggling Jungkook beneath his covers had been almost impossible. He still doesn’t think Hoseok fully believes him when he'd told him he was just watching a movie on his phone.

Jungkook hooks his arms around Namjoon's waist so he can pull himself closer, a similarly curious look in his eye now as he'd had then. He leans his head in, tongue darting out slightly to wet his bottom lip, and-

“Shit,” Namjoon gasps. One of his hands instinctively flies into Jungkook's hair, fingers tightening as he feels him flick his tongue over one of his nipples.

He's not sure if he wants to hold him closer and tell him to never stop, or to protest and pull him away because he's almost certain he could come from this alone when his intention is to drag this out for as long as possible.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook pauses to ask. The way he's staring up at him with bright, round, innocent eyes only adds to Namjoon's impending sense of a swift undoing.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Totally okay. More than okay, actually, it's-” He breaks off on another gasp when Jungkook flicks his tongue out again, the sound quickly morphing into a rough groan when he reaches up to roll his other nipple between the gentle pads of his fingers. “Perfect, god...you're so perfect.”

Jungkook really does like to touch as much as he enjoys being touched. Namjoon hadn't really realized just how tactile a person he was until they’d started messing around like this, and suddenly there were warm hands reaching out for him at every possible opportunity, always trying to worm their way under his clothes somehow.

The first few times, Jungkook had taken his time to explore, mapping out the lines across Namjoon's skin one by one. They're more familiar to him now that he doesn't need to spend as much time going over them, but he still manages to make Namjoon feel like he's discovering them for the first time all over again.

He continues to roll his tongue over his nipples, alternating them his fingers and his mouth so Namjoon never truly gets a chance to breathe. Occasionally he’ll trail his fingertips in dizzying waves down past Namjoon’s waist and around his back to try and pull him impossibly closer, every touch lingering with a purpose. Every touch meaningful. Every touch conveying some unspoken truth between them about just how gone they are for each other.

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon groans when Jungkook's hands inevitably find they're way back to toying with the sensitive skin around his nipples. He pulls him up into a kiss, both because he wants to and because he needs to disrupt this dangerous path Jungkook is on before it's too late. His cock is already straining in his pants, aching to be touched. He’s pretty sure he’ll be leaking into his underwear soon, every nerve alight from the way Jungkook’s hands feel on his skin.

Jungkook whines into the kiss, allowing himself to be gently lowered back against the leather seat until Namjoon has him crowded up against the inside of the door.

The whine turns guttural when he feels Namjoon's teeth nip at his bottom lip, and this is also something they'd discovered; that Jungkook likes the sharp sting that comes with teeth sinking into his flesh. He seems to like it even more now that he's allowed to be as loud as he wants, not having to focus too closely on who might hear and how he might have to muffle his cries.

Even when they're kissing like this, even with Namjoon's lips on Jungkook’s swallowing every delicious sound that he makes, they still slip out. Little gasps every time they break for a breath and broken moans when he feels a hand running along the inside of his thigh. All these little sounds that simply cannot exist quietly within him.

And then Namjoon's palming him through his trousers, and a gasp turns into a moan turns into Namjoon having to bury his lips against Jungkook’s neck because the sounds he's making are far too sweet to be lost between a series of messy kisses. He wants to hear them properly, wants to tease every possible noise out of him now that he actually has a chance to appreciate them properly.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, trying to grind his hips up against the heel of Namjoon's palm. It's a little awkward given their angle, but he pushes determinedly onwards, never one to be deterred from a challenge. “Hyung, please, I need-”

He breaks off as another moan wracks through him, Namjoon too keen to indulge him to bother with waiting for a formal request. He’s already pressing his hand down harder before Jungkook can ask, grinding up against the thick line of his cock until his head hits the back of the door.

This part is easy. He knows what Jungkook wants, already has a pretty good idea of what he likes when it comes to touching his dick. But there's something he's been wanting to try; something they haven't had a chance to explore yet. Something-

“Can I blow you?”

Jungkook's hips stutter to a halt. “W-What?”

“I-” Namjoon blinks, suddenly growing self-conscious. “I just thought, y'know, since we haven't had a chance to try it yet, and I thought it would be fun, and I've kind of been thinking about it for a while-”

“You have?” Jungkook squeaks, and Namjoon flushes.

“Y-Yeah, kinda. Sorry, I know it can be a lot, and it's totally fine if you're not ready for it right now but-”

“I’m ready!” Jungkook cuts him off, already nodding enthusiastically. “Please don't talk yourself out of blowing me hyung, I'm absolutely ready. I was born ready.”

Out of anyone else's mouth, something like that might have killed the mood. But because it's Jungkook who says it, and because what he says is so inherently him, Namjoon only finds himself getting inexplicably more turned on than he already is.

It's becoming a bit of a problem really, because he’s realizing that he doesn't just have multiple Jungkook-related buttons that turn him on; Jungkook is the button. All of him, all the time.

“You're so cute,” he coos, knowing how Jungkook loves it when he calls him things like pretty and cute and sweet. 

“If I act cuter will you suck my dick sooner?”

There's a fair chance that Namjoon will, in fact, suck his dick sooner if he acts cuter, if only to distract from his own growing problem that seems to be happening a lot more recently whenever Jungkook acts cute.

But he's not about to give him that kind of leverage.

“Patience Jungkookie,” he hushes, leaning in to kiss him just below his jaw. “I promise I'll get there soon. Just want to make you feel good.”

He starts somewhere familiar, moving from palming Jungkook through his trousers to popping his front button open so he can slip his hand inside properly as he continues to kiss a line down his throat. Jungkook is immediately impatient for it, hands wound tight in Namjoon’s hair as he tries to force himself to keep still.

It makes Namjoon smile fondly against his skin. He rewards him by nipping sharply at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, right as he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and strokes upwards once. Jungkook can't seem to decide what sound he wants to make, something between a gasp and a curse slipping past his lips at the overwhelming feeling of Namjoon's teeth and hands all over him.

Namjoon tries to tug his trousers as far down his hips as he can so he can maneuver his hand properly, but it's not easy in the tight confines of the car. There are too many knees and too many elbows sticking out at odd angles and jamming uncomfortably into various surfaces. He already knows he's going to come out of this with more bruises than he can explain.

With a little determination on both their parts, they eventually manage to get Jungkook's pants down almost to his knees. Namjoon wastes no time before wrapping his hand around him again, making a tight fist for him to fuck up into like he knows he likes. Likes the tightness of it, likes the way he can show Namjoon how desperate he is.

He's already shaking even though Namjoon hasn't gotten a chance to get his lips around him yet. He just likes it too much to slow down, eager and stubborn with this as he is with all things. Namjoon gets it;  it’s hard not to get a little rushed and desperate like this when it’s what they’ve grown used to over the last few days. Impatience and desperation are habits they're still trying to unlearn, even now.

“Are you going to keep still long enough for me to do this or are you gonna come already?”

“I can k-keep still,” Jungkook huffs, already sounding out of breath. “It just feels so good hyung, I can't help it.”

“I know baby,” Namjoon hushes, dipping down to trail kisses further down the length of his body. “I promise this will feel good too.”

He pauses when he reaches Jungkook's hips, grazing his teeth against the left one while he digs his nails lightly into the right. Just enough pressure to remind him to keep still. Jungkook hisses in pain, but it's followed by such a visceral moan that Namjoon knows he's enjoying it. And then he's pulling the tip of his cock into his mouth so he can suckle at the sensitive head, and Jungkook's making an entirely new series of noises that he doesn’t think he’s ever heard him make before. He swirls his tongue around the head experimentally, trying to get a sense for what Jungkook likes, but he can’t really tell given the way his soft moans have all coalesced into a single, dishevelled sound.

He pulls off slightly after a moment, just enough to keep his lips touching the tip, before darting his tongue out so he can tease the slit. Jungkook tenses beneath him, and he worries for a second that he really is going to come already, but then he glances up and sees the way he's gripping at the leather seat with white-knukles and he realizes that he's just trying so, so badly to behave.

Smiling fondly to himself, he stops teasing him with his tongue so he can lower his lips further past the head of his cock as a reward, humming appreciatively as he bobs his head down. He delights in the way the vibrations have Jungkook's composure slipping almost instantly; he can't seem to stop his hips from twitching up to try and bury his cock further down Namjoon's throat, and he groans when all Namjoon does is loosen his jaw to let him.

Jungkook's cock isn't all that long, so it's easy enough for Namjoon to take. It fits comfortably in his mouth despite its girth, and that, too, is enough to have him humming appreciatively again at the heavy weight of it resting against his tongue.

He loves the feeling of being full, loves how sated he feels.

When he reckons that Jungkook has had enough of the teasing, he finally starts to move his mouth in earnest, bobbing his head up and down at a steady pace along the whole length. Jungkook tries to buck up again, hard enough that he almost hits the back of Namjoon’s throat, and Namjoon has to hold his hips down so he doesn’t choke. It’s only when he digs his fingers in hard enough to bruise that Jungkook finally cries out and forces himself to keep still again.

There's a moment where his moans escalate into these desperate little half-whines of “hyung, hyung, hyung”, repeated over and over like a prayer, and Namjoon realizes he must be getting close. He pulls off with a soft pop, wrapping his fingers back around the base so he can jerk him off instead, able to make his hand go at a much faster pace like he knows Jungkook likes.

“Hyung,” Jungkook groans. This one sounds different from the rest though; less broken, more purposeful. “Hyung,” he tries again, curling his fingers in a weak hold around Namjoon’s wrist.

Namjoon's hand immediately stills. When he glances up, Jungkook has a stubborn, determined look in his eye, one which often only ends up getting them into trouble.

“Jungkook-ah?” he asks. “What's wrong?”

“N-Nothing's wrong hyung, I just.” Jungkook's face has gone a deep shade of red, deeper than what could be caused just from the exertion alone. “I-I want…”

Namjoon removes his hand completely, leveraging himself up so that he's straddling Jungkook's hips and can lean down to give him a gentle kiss. “Yeah baby?” he encourages, kissing him once, twice, as many times as he needs to relax. “What is it you want? Tell me.”

“I want-” Jungkook stops again. He allows himself to get lost in the kiss for a moment, lips moving methodically against Namjoon's until the tension unwinds from his frame. “Hyung,” he gasps, finally pulling away to fix him with a deceptively innocent, wide-eyed look. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You want-” Namjoon freezes. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with his ears, and when it does- “Oh.”

“O-Only if you want to, of course.”

Namjoon has definitely thought about it a few times; often during their rushed, desperate encounters, when Jungkook's gasping openly into his mouth and he can't help but wonder if this is what he sounds like when he's getting fucked. Whether it's just as breathy, just as desperate.

He just didn’t think they’d get round to it until after the year was out.

“I want to! I definitely want to, it's just, uh...I didn't really come prepared.”

“That's okay,” Jungkook bites his lip, trying to force down another blush. “I-I did. In the glove compartment.”

“Oh.” And then, because Namjoon can't help his curiosity, “Since when?”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment. He continues to chew on his bottom lip, eyes darting up to Namjoon’s face and then away again. “I think it was a little bit after our first kiss,” he admits eventually, smiling at the memory. “I already had most of what I needed because I'd been...experimenting.”

Namjoon feels his mouth pop open with a soft noise. To think that after their makeout sessions when he would leave Jungkook to go work in the studio, Jungkook could have been... experimenting.

“Oh.” He blinks a few times, trying to adjust to this newfound knowledge before he can speak again. “So you know a little bit about what you like already?”

Jungkook smiles. “A little bit, yeah.”

“And?”

“I like...I like how my fingers feel, inside me. I've tried using a dildo but I can't quite get the angle right to make it feel really good.”

“I think I can help with that,” Namjoon grins. He presses an encouraging  kiss just beneath his ear. “Anything else?”

“Well, there is one more thing…” Jungkook bites his lip, looking shy. “But you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Namjoon feels his curiosity pique. “What is it?”

“I...I kinda like it when it hurts a little.”

“Oh.”

Okay. Cool. Okay. Don’t panic Namjoon, don’t p-

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“You really don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I just - want you. I don’t really care how it happens, I just-”

Namjoon presses a gentle kiss against his lips to quiet him. “I want to make you feel good,” he murmurs. “You’re just going to have to tell me if it’s too much.”

“You could never be too much.”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to blush. “Sap,” he grumbles. “I’m serious Jungkook, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You hurting me is kind of the point, hyung,” Jungkook points out. His eyes have already started to take on a heated glow, fingers trailing absentmindedly down one of Namjoon’s arms. “But I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” Namjoon nods, steeling himself. “Okay.”

Their first hurdle comes with trying to reach what they need from the glove compartment in the front. Namjoon refuses to go out half-naked into the cold to access it through the front door, choosing instead to bend between the two front seats until he can reach the compartment and tug it open. It hurts, and he's definitely never doing it again, but he eventually manages to secure the tiny bottle of lube in one hand.

He's just about to pop the cap open himself when Jungkook reaches for it with grabby hands. “Let me,” he says. “I just - want to ease into it myself, first.”

Namjoon allows him to take the bottle, sitting back in quiet, dizzying wonder as Jungkook leans back against the door, only intervening to help him tug his pants all the way off to be discarded in the front with the rest of their forgotten clothes. He watches, enthralled, as Jungkook coats the clear liquid over his fingers before reaching down and pushing the first digit past his rim, his own breath catching in his throat at the way Jungkook's head tips back with a satisfied groan when he makes it down to the first knuckle.

Jungkook fingers himself open slowly, eyes catching on Namjoon's every once in a while like he wants to make sure he's watching. Like he enjoys it, having Namjoon watch him as he finally stretched himself enough to push two fingers inside.

Namjoon takes the opportunity to palm himself through his trousers, rubbing along the clothed length of his dick as he watches Jungkook clench and tremble around his own fingers. This too seems to spur Jungkook on, because when he realizes what Namjoon is doing his fingers slip in just a little too quickly and he cries out in pleasure.

“You're so pretty,” Namjoon praises, unable to resist the temptation to lean down for a quick, messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Pretty Jungkookie, already falling apart before I’ve even had the chance to fuck you.”

Jungkook keens and tries to chase the kiss, letting out a frustrated huff when all Namjoon does is pull back out of his reach.

“Let me see you hyung,” he whines. “It's not fair if I'm the only one; let me see you too.”

Understanding what he means, Namjoon reaches for his cock again. He teases his fingers along the clear, hard outline of it in his pants and Jungkook whines again in anticipation, already working his fingers in and out at a faster pace than before.

Namjoon gradually tugs his waistband down, going deliberately slow. The fabric catches around the head of his cock for a second, and he shivers at the friction before pulling them completely down so his cock can spring free.

Jungkook moans openly at the sight, mouth hanging open slightly as he watches Namjoon begin the stroke himself. Namjoon tries to keep his own pace steady, aware of how close he can get when he’s not paying attention; this is about Jungkook, about making him feel good.

There's a certain point where Jungkook goes a little quiet, and when Namjoon glances up he has his brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to hook his fingers inside him at the right angle. Leaning down, Namjoon gently moves his hand away so he can take his place instead, coating lube along his fingertips before gently pushing past his rim.

It's easier for him to push deeper; to find just the right angle that has Jungkook gasping and clawing at his shoulders for purchase with a choked-off hyung. And when he finds it, he makes sure to do it again. He wants to make him feel good, wants to make him feel so good that he forgets his own name.

“Hyung, fuck ,” Jungkook gasps when he adds a third finger. “Fuck, it feels so- Namjoon- ” Namjoon hits that same sweet spot again, and he just can't seem to get the words out. All he can do is let jumbled-up approximations of words tumble clumsily from his mouth, too caught up in the way Namjoon's fingers move inside him to care.

Namjoon marvels at how easily he sinks down on his fingers; he can't stop imagining what the tight, slick heat will feel like around his cock. Can’t stop thinking about how pretty Jungkook is going to sound when he’s working his cock into him instead of his fingers.

For now, he settles for scissoring him open until he knows he can take it.

Their second hurdle then comes with trying to find the right angle that works for both of them. They start with Jungkook on his back, one of Namjoon's legs hooked up on the seat while the other stays planted against the floor so he can leverage himself forward to slowly ease the tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscle at Jungkook’s entrance. Jungkook takes it easily enough, whining and clawing at Namjoon's bicep the first few inches but settling into a bone-deep shudder with the last few.

“How does it feel?”

“G-Good hyung,” Jungkook stutters out. “Really good.”

He’s already trying to roll his hips so he can take more, sinking just a little bit further down on Namjoon’s cock until he hisses. Namjoon is bigger than three fingers, though not much, so it’s probably a little bit more of a stretch than he’s used to. Still, he takes it so well; even when his eyes well with tears and he trembles from the effort of it, he squeezes Namjoon’s arm and begs for “more hyung, need more”.

Namjoon eases in and out slowly a few times, wanting to give him a little bit of time to adjust at least; but then he feels one of Jungkook’s legs wrapping around his waist to try and nudge him forward, and he finds himself speeding up without really meaning too. Sharp, shallow thrusts that have Jungkook letting out these little high-pitched whines every time his hips slam forward.

And it’s good, it really is. It feels amazing to be fucking Jungkook like this, so openly without having to worry about anyone anyone hearing them or anyone trying to interrupt. But the angle still isn’t ideal. Namjoon knows it could be better, knows he can make Jungkook feel better, without their limbs being cramped at this awkward, folded-up angle.

He knows Jungkook is going to make a fuss when he slows to a complete halt, so he’s already leaning down to cover his face in placating kisses even before his hips have stopped moving.

“I know, I know baby,” he smiles fondly, holding onto Jungkook’s waist to stop him from wiggling around to try and get him to move again. “I just need to move around a bit to make this better for us.”

Jungkook sighs when Namjoon pulls out, but otherwise doesn’t protest. 

Namjoon reorients himself until he’s actually sitting with his back to the seat, and the second his ass hits the soft leather Jungkook is already clambering onto his lap, eagerly seeking out his lips again. It's still a little awkward, the roof of the car so low that Jungkook has to hunch to avoid bumping his head and the seats narrow enough that Namjoon has to be careful to keep a tight hold on his waist to keep him steady, but it’s a lot more comfortable than before.

Using the arm leveraged around Jungkook’s waist, Namjoon guides his ass down over his crotch until he’s able to sink back down onto his cock. Angled like this, he’s able to properly anchor his feet against the floor so he can fuck up into him a little harder and bury himself deeper, though he finds his hands slipping where they’re gripped around Jungkook’s body. Jungkook doesn't seem to mind at all though. He keens into Namjoon's touch, wiggling around until he gets the hint and slides his hands down to rest around the curve of his ass. They'd figured this out early on too; that Jungkook loves it when Namjoon plays with his ass, loves to be touched and fondled and lightly pinched.

It’s then that Namjoon remembers him saying that he likes it when it hurts, and an idea forms in his mind.

He waits until they have a steady rhythm going, waits until Jungkook has a stabilizing grip on his shoulders as he bounces up and down on his cock, before raising one hand and bringing it back down in a light slap against one of his asscheeks.

And god , he’s never been more relieved than he is now at the fact that they’re not at home doing this.

Jungkook lets out a sharp, high-pitched whine, louder than any sound Namjoon has heard him make before but just as pretty. “Fuck,” he hisses, tightening his hold around Namjoon’s shoulders. “Harder, hyung. Do it again, please.”

Namjoon doesn’t need to be asked twice. He’s pretty sure he’d give Jungkook absolutely anything he asked for just to hear him whine like that again, all needy and breathless, every inch of him unravelling before his very eyes.

Caressing his hand over the same cheek, he waits for Jungkook to grind back down before spanking him again. He does it slightly harder this time, enough that the stinging sound of it ricochets around the inside of the car making it sound twice as loud as it actually is.

Jungkook’s resonating cry has a similar effect. His hips stutter to halt as the choked-off whine wracks through his body, and then another when Namjoon squeezes over the sensitive skin of his ass to pull his cheeks apart and push in deeper.

It alternates like that a few times. Jungkook can’t quite keep a steady rhythm going, too much of his energy being spent on trying to hold himself together every time Namjoon’s hands land squarely on his ass, so Namjoon takes his time grinding up in slow circles as he massages over the residual pain.

Jungkook is so sensitive that almost every touch makes his body jerk forwards until he’s collapsed against Namjoon’s chest, arms draped loosely around his neck. His whines are gradually turning less coherent, the sound of them getting closer and closer to a sob every time Namjoon angles himself particularly deep just as his hand comes down to strike his ass.

It’s not long before he is sobbing, hips twitching as he tries to muffle the sounds against Namjoon’s neck. Namjoon almost would have mistaken them for quiet moans, if he weren’t so well-acquainted with the feeling Jungkook’s tears against his skin already.

He freezes almost instantly. Oh god, did I actually hurt him?

“Jungkook?” he asks. He tries to gently pry Jungkook’s face from his neck so he can assess the situation, but Jungkook just sniffles and tries to nuzzle himself closer. So Namjoon just holds him, waiting until the tears subside enough for him to speak again.

“I-I’m okay,” he manages to get out eventually in a tiny, timid voice, pulling away so he can fix Namjoon with a tentative smile. “I’m just a little bit s-sensitive.”

“I’m not - I didn’t hurt you too much?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “This just happens sometimes. When it...When something feels really good. Too good.”

“Oh.”

It makes sense, Namjoon supposes; Jungkook has always been quick to cry, be it tears of sadness or tears of joy. This kind of feels like an extension of that.

“Sorry if it ruins the mood.”

“Oh!” Namjoon exclaims again, eyes going wide. “Hey, no, I don’t think that at all. It’s kind of, uh. It feels like a compliment, I guess? If I’m making you feel good enough to react like this then I must be doing something right.”

“You are!” Jungkook hurries to reassure him, reaching out with both hands so he can cup his cheeks. “It’s so good hyung, you’re so good,” he praises.

His eyes are so full, so adoring, Namjoon can’t help the soft groan that spills from the back of his mouth. Can barely stop himself from leaning forward to press their lips together in a bruising kiss in a vain attempt to muffle the sound.

“Do you like that, hyung?” Jungkook breaks the kiss to whisper. “Like it when I tell you how good you’re fucking me?”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to whine. “Jesus Kook, you gotta warn me if you’re gonna start saying stuff like that.”

“Like what?” Jungkook asks, blinking down at him innocently. “I’m just being honest.”

The drying tears only make it so much worse than it already is, his eyes shining so much brighter in their timid wetness. Namjoon can’t stop looking at him without thinking about how much he wants to wreck him just so he can be the one to hold him and take care of him when they’re through.

“Well, just know that your ‘honesty’ is going to make this last a lot less longer,” Namjoon cautions.

“Aww…” Jungkook coos. He starts to roll his hips in a steady circle again, grinding down on Namjoon’s cock. “Are you gonna come just from hearing me tell you how good your cock feels?”

Namjoon gasps when he feels Jungkook pull up slightly only to slam back down, hands reaching blindly to grasp at his hips for some sort of purchase. “Jungkook,” he whines.

“Mmm…” Jungkook sighs, rolling his head back in pleasure at the angle of Namjoon’s cock before flashing him an amused smirk. “You’re too easy, hyung.”

As if the praise wasn’t enough to seep into Namjoon’s mind and turn every last one of his thoughts completely incoherent, the way Jungkook’s tone lends itself to mockery around the honorific has him shutting down almost entirely. He can’t tell if he wants Jungkook to keep telling him how good he is, or whether he wants him to tease him again for being such a needy, whiny hyung.

He just wants.

Too overwhelmed to reply, he nudges Jungkook's legs further apart and grips his ass so he can sink down further onto his cock, but otherwise keeps his hips determinedly still. He wants to watch Jungkook fuck himself on his cock, at least for a little while. Just to see how desperate he can get until he finally begs Namjoon to fuck him properly.

Jungkook immediately cottons on to what he’s trying to do, but it doesn't seem to bother him much. He gives Namjoon a stubborn look, continuing to roll his hips in a slow, steady grind with his arms wrapped around his neck. "Your cock feels so good," he sighs. "So good hyung, everything about you feels so good."

Namjoon grunts in response, too focused on trying to keep his hips still to bother with a retort. He wants to watch Jungkook come undone, wants to watch as he gradually works himself up into a desperate state; even if it takes all night.

And it does happen eventually, because he knows Jungkook. He knows how easily he lets his pleasure take over until he’s a babbling incoherent mess, unable to do anything but kiss needily at Namjoon’s lips as he kneads impatient hands into the skin at his shoulders. Begging in his own way, even if he can’t quite get the words out.

Deciding that he’s let him do enough of the work, Namjoon gently encourages Jungkook to lean backwards between the two front seats so he can see him properly as he fucks him. Jungkook goes easily, hooking his shoulders against the side of either seat for stability even with Namjoon’s hands gripping steadily at his waist, hard enough to bruise.

Planting his feet on the floor, Namjoon finally starts fucking him in earnest. Hard, upwards thrusts that make Jungkook’s whole body jolt from the force of it, his own hard cock bouncing uselessly between them only making him whine more.

Namjoon isn’t surprised when he sees fresh tears threaten to spill down his cheeks again. Jungkook’s whines have turned into half-sobs already, filling the air around them with their sweet, broken sounds. He must be close now, if the trembling of his thighs are anything to go by. Not that Namjoon is doing much better; the only thing keeping him going is knowing how good he’s making Jungkook feel. He can hold on for just a little longer, if it means continuing to make him feel good.

“Hyung,” Jungkook cries, “Hyung, I’m gonna- I’m-”

“Shh,” Namjoon soothes. “It’s okay Jungkookie, it’s okay. I know.”

He reaches out to wrap his fingers around Jungkook’s cock to help him along, and it only takes a few quick strokes before Jungkook is clenching around his cock with choked-off hyung, coming in white spurts all over his chest.

Namjoon continues to jerk him off as he thrusts up one final time, new tears brimming in Jungkook’s eyes right as he comes along with him.

*   *   *

The night feels so, so quiet after they’re done, the air settling to a calm brume around them as they collapse against each other and try to regain some control over their breathing. Namjoon feels like he’s just run a marathon, all the adrenaline leaving his body the instant Jungkook curls against his chest with a satisfied sigh.

“I love you, hyung.”

This too feels like a marathon. They’ve been running towards this moment for so long, Namjoon feels out of breath the second he hears the words leave Jungkook’s mouth.

The adrenaline settles to a warm hum inside his chest. He holds Jungkook as close as he dares, both afraid and not of everything that might come after this but knowing that everything will be okay as long as they have each other. As long as they can continue to have moments of quiet revelation just like this, where Namjoon aches to put a thousand thoughts into words even though the language for it just doesn’t exist, they’ll be okay.

“I love you too, Jungkook-ah.”

It will have to be enough.

Until the words exist for him to properly put definition to this great, unyielding fondness inside him, love will have to be enough.