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Namjoon is always first to practice.

This is mostly because he has the key to the gym, making it impossible for the other boys to enter without him. He’s pretty sure the reason their club advisor gave him ownership of the key has a lot more to do with the teacher being too busy to come and unlock the door himself and a lot less to do with him having any trust in Namjoon’s ability in safekeeping the key. Which is fine. Namjoon has only lost the key twice, after all.

The other reason is because practice doesn’t officially begin until five, which gives Namjoon a solid thirty minutes to run out of class and set up the gym for practice. Even before he assumed the role of team captain this year, Namjoon liked to show up early to help out if he could, but now it feels like an expectation to show up first. An expectation Namjoon has continued to meet.

Until today.

There’s someone standing in front of the door to the gym. It’s definitely not one of the basketball team members, who have all learned that Namjoon needs at least fifteen minutes of quiet time prior to beginning practice if they want to avoid beginning the session by running laps. It’s definitely a student though, school uniform recognizable. Their bag is clenched tightly in their hands, and when they hear Namjoon approaching, they look up to stare at him with wide eyes.

Namjoon might consider it rude, if his expression wasn’t matching.

“Kim Seokjin,” he blurts, before he can even stop himself. Really, Namjoon might be the rude one, saying his senior’s name so easily. But isn’t it rude for Kim Seokjin to show up in front of Namjoon without any warning?

Though how could he have given Namjoon a warning? It’s not like Namjoon and Kim Seokjin are friends, after all. In fact, Namjoon is confident that Kim Seokjin doesn’t even know who he is, which is fair, because Namjoon barely knows who Kim Seokjin is. The student population is big enough that Namjoon doesn’t bother to learn about the older students outside of the basketball club members, but it’s hard to miss the whispers about Kim Seokjin.

Long and lean, broad shoulders held with a tall posture. A soft face, softer-looking lips, warm brown eyes that practically shine. Kim Seokjin is painfully handsome. And obviously, Namjoon can see this, but even if he couldn't, people talk about it. Because everyone can see this, not just Namjoon.

But people also talk about other things, things that Namjoon can’t see. They talk about how Kim Seokjin is scarily athletic in school events, but refuses to join one of the sports clubs despite the begging of some of their captains. They talk about how Kim Seokjin’s test scores are remarkably high, and that anyone who’s struggling should ask if they can take a look at his notes. They talk about the jokes that Kim Seokjin says, and how he can get even the strictest of teachers to crack a smile.

They don’t talk about Kim Seokjin showing up first to the basketball team’s practice, but Namjoon wishes they did, so that he would have some sort of hint of why the school’s sweetheart is standing in front of him like he wants to ask Namjoon something.

“Can I join the basketball club?”

Well. It does make sense that after looking like he wants to ask Namjoon a question, Kim Seokjin asks a question. The question, on the other hand, doesn’t make much sense at all.

“Have you ever even played basketball before?” Namjoon asks, bewildered. Namjoon’s question doesn’t make much sense either, because of course Kim Seokjin can’t join the basketball club. They only recruit first year students, and beyond that, Namjoon doesn’t have any openings on the team. They have a solid line-up this year, and as captain, Namjoon is hoping to take the team past the championship semi-finals this year.

Kim Seokjin must’ve been waiting outside too long in the sun, his face a cute shade of pink when he shrugs. “Not really.” He won’t look Namjoon in the eyes. His bag is clutched tightly in his arms.

Namjoon furrows his brows. “Then why do you want to join the basketball club?” Almost everyone on the basketball team played in middle school. Those who didn’t either practiced hard to catch up within their first year, or ended up quitting the club. It doesn’t make sense that someone in their third year of school with no prior experience would suddenly join.

Namjoon wants to hand Seokjin sunscreen, his face is so red.

“It looks fun,” Seokjin mumbles. His bag swings as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I went to one of your games the other day, and you,” he coughs, “and you guys made it look really fun. That’s all.”

Namjoon stares. Wordlessly. Because all words have left him, and he has nothing to say to Kim Seokjin telling him he wants to join the basketball club because it looks fun. He’s not sure he would’ve had words to tell Kim Seokjin regardless of what answer he gave him.

“You can say no,” Kim Seokjin says, flashing Namjoon a small smile. “I won’t be upset.”

Namjoon frowns. “It’s really not that fun.” He thinks about the other boys on the team groaning when Namjoon pushes them through another round of practice. “Not most of the time, at least.”

The hesitation in Namjoon’s voice must have been all Kim Seokjin needed to pounce, smile growing, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Could I at least watch you guys practice, then? I promise to stay out of the way.”

Kim Seokjin will most definitely be in the way if he joins their practice. The gym is cramped enough as it is when all the boys are present, especially with all the equipment out and not properly put away like Namjoon keeps meaning to. When the boys get riled up during practice, they practically bounce off the walls, and Namjoon is certain one of them will accidentally bump into Kim Seokjin. Not to mention the huge distraction it’ll be when everyone shows up and wonders why Kim Seokjin is sitting in the back.

The answer is a no. Definitely.

Namjoon huffs.

“As long as you stay out of the way.”

+++

“So are we going to talk about why Kim Seokjin is watching us practice, or are we just going to keep on pretending he’s not there?” Yoongi asks as he roughly tosses the basketball at Namjoon.

Namjoon catches the ball with ease, and dribbles the ball towards the basket. “I’m not pretending he’s not there,” he says, and it’s not a lie. It’s pointless to pretend Kim Seokjin isn’t there, not when every boy on the team has asked Namjoon about it as if he had personally invited Kim Seokjin to join their practice. “If anything, he’s the one pretending he’s not here.” Kim Seokjin is the one that looks away every time Namjoon glances back at him, to see if he’s actually paying attention.

To prove his point, Namjoon glances over at Kim Seokjin, who’s sitting in the folding chair Namjoon scrambled around to find, textbook in his lap. Just like every time before, they make eye contact, and then Kim Seokjin looks down and starts fiercely writing down notes. It certainly feels like he’s pretending to not be at the basketball club’s practice, which irks Namjoon, because Kim Seokjin is the one who asked to be here in the first place.

“Maybe if you weren’t glaring at him, he’d seem a little happier to be here,” Yoongi says. He bumps Namjoon’s shoulder with his own, which would most definitely count as a foul if they were actually playing. But it’s just practice, and Namjoon is happy to bump Yoongi back.

“I’m not glaring at him.”

“If you’re not glaring at him, then why else do you keep looking that way?”

Namjoon frowns. “To see if he’s paying attention. Why would he ask to watch if he’s not going to pay attention?”

Yoongi shrugs. “He seems plenty attentive to me.”

Namjoon is doubtful of that.

Namjoon is doubtful even when they stop to take a break and he finds Kim Seokjin handing out everyone’s towels, asking them if they need any refills on water. Namjoon is doubtful even when they’re in the middle of a practice game, and Kim Seokjin manages to cheer at all the right moments as if he actually understands what's going on in the game. Namjoon is doubtful even when they’re wrapping up practice and Kim Seokjin is congratulating everyone by name on a good practice on their way out of the gym.

When Kim Seokjin and Namjoon are the only people left in the gym and Kim Seokjin starts cleaning up despite Namjoon not asking him to do so, he doesn’t know what to think.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks, watching as Kim Seokjin picks up the loose basketballs off the gym floor and tosses them into the bin that holds the rest of them. His shots are annoyingly smooth, but that’s because he’s not standing that far from the bin. It’s not even a little impressive.

Kim Seokjin startles, as if he didn’t know Namjoon was standing there. Which Namjoon thinks is stupid, because Kim Seokjin has gone out of his way to look anywhere but where Namjoon is standing, which certainly means he’s aware of Namjoon’s presence. 

“I’m sorry,” Kim Seokjin says, and instead of throwing the last ball he has in his hand, he walks it over to the bin and carefully places it with the rest of them. As if that’s what Namjoon is upset about.

“You don’t need to help clean up, you know?” Namjoon makes his point by grabbing the last stray ball and shooting it into the bin without even looking, which means he gets to watch Kim Seokjin’s eyes widen when he makes the shot with ease. “I can get it by myself.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Kim Seokjin says, shaking his head. “Sorry for intruding on your guys’ practice.”

Namjoon pauses. The bin he was pushing comes to a halt with a screech. “You weren’t intruding.”

Kim Seokjin blinks. “I wasn’t?”

Namjoon doesn’t know how to answer that. Maybe Kim Seokjin was intruding, but it’s not like it bothered Namjoon. Even if Namjoon is annoyed that Kim Seokjin is trying to help clean up when that’s clearly Namjoon’s job as the team captain, he’s not exactly bothered.

Just a little distracted. After all, Namjoon’s not used to having a fresh face present for practice. It only makes sense that he’s a little distracted. 

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon knows it’s rude to answer a question with another question, but Namjoon also thinks it’s rude for Kim Seokjin to act like it’s no big deal for him to help clean up when his cheeks are already red with exertion. Maybe this is why Kim Seokjin isn’t part of any of the sports teams - his flaming cheeks give away his exhaustion too easily.

Kim Seokjin’s smile is small, but it makes his cheeks and eyes puff up and suddenly Namjoon worries that putting everything away must have made him exhausted as well, he feels so warm.

“I really did,” Kim Seokjin says. He doesn’t sound like he’s lying. Namjoon doesn’t get it. At least Kim Seokjin’s presence made it easier for Namjoon to clean up. That’s why he’s not that bothered.

“Are you showing up tomorrow then?”

Kim Seokjin’s eyes are wide. “Can I?”

Namjoon shrugs, and keeps his hands busy by pushing the cart full of basketballs into the storage closet. For some reason, he finds it difficult to stay still. Maybe he should’ve tried a little harder during practice, if he has this much energy left.

“If you want to.”

+++

Kim Seokjin arrives early to practice again, beating Namjoon to the door despite the fact that Namjoon feels like he ran to beat him here. This time, he doesn’t look nearly as shocked to see Namjoon approaching him, but he still sounds antsy when he greets Namjoon.

“Are you sure you want to watch another day?” Namjoon asks as they enter the gym. Kim Seokjin leaves a large gap between them as he follows behind, and Namjoon wonders if it’s hesitation or regret for showing up again.

“As long as you’re still okay with it,” Kim Seokjin says. He has the same bag with him as yesterday, but instead of holding the handles tightly in his hands, he’s hugging it to his chest instead. “What can I do to help you set up for today?”

Namjoon prepares himself for Kim Seokjin to be completely useless for practice preparation, but it’s almost like having a second person makes things easier. Especially a second person who’s as tall as Namjoon (a little taller, actually, Namjoon bitterly notes as he watches Kim Seokjin grab things off the tallest shelves with ease). And even if Kim Seokjin’s jokes are a bit silly, Namjoon still finds himself laughing, and before he knows it, the rest of the team is joining them in the gym.

Park Jimin comes bounding forward, with no regard to the velocity at which he flings himself at Namjoon. Luckily, Jimin is short and on the smaller side, so he only sends Namjoon stumbling forward a few steps, looping an arm around his shoulders.

“Hyung! You’re here again!” Namjoon bites back telling Jimin that he’s always here, he’s the captain, but he realizes that Jimin’s bubbly smile isn’t directed at him, but at Kim Seokjin. “Hey, does this mean you plan on becoming our new manager?”

Unlike Namjoon, who’s highly irritated that Jimin has gone ahead and spoken so casually to his senior, Kim Seokjin doesn’t look bothered at all, smiling back at Jimin. That makes Namjoon even more irritable (because Namjoon is pretty sure he’s talked to Kim Seokjin more than Jimin at this point, and it’s not like Namjoon gets to call him hyung).

Kim Seokjin blinks. “Is that something I could do?” His eyes are wide, and he keeps glancing at Namjoon even as he speaks to Jimin. Maybe he’s waiting for Namjoon to scold his teammate for being so impolite.

Namjoon doesn’t want to be impolite to Kim Seokjin, so he’s happy to tell Jimin off. “Hey, don’t forget that Kim Seokjin is older than you-”

Jimin keeps speaking like he doesn’t even notice Namjoon. “So you’ll do it, right? It would help Namjoon-hyung out a lot.” He wrinkles his nose. “You’d probably have to spend a lot of time with him though. And he can be a bit cranky.”

Kim Seokjin flushes. He’s doing a good job keeping a calm expression, which Namjoon is impressed by, because if someone younger than him was pestering him to do something he had no interest in doing, he’d be a lot less pleasant about it. “If Namjoon is okay with it, I’d love to.”

Namjoon blinks. Isn’t Kim Seokjin taking being polite a little too far?

“Go tell the others we’re starting today with five laps around the school,” Namjoon tells Jimin, shoving him off of him. “And you’ll do six, and if you complain about it, I’ll make it seven.”

Jimin frowns. “You just want Seokjin-hyung all to yourself.”

Namjoon pushes Jimin again. He can feel his face turning red, beyond irritated with Jimin at this point. “Seven laps, don’t make me make it eight.”

For someone who complains about running the most out of all the team, Jimin seems pretty happy as he jogs away to break the news to the rest of the team. Even when he’s in the distance, Namjoon can still hear him giggling.

“I’m sorry about him,” Namjoon says when Jimin is out of earshot, ducking his head apologetically.

Kim Seokjin frowns. “About what?”

Namjoon matches his frown. He doesn’t get Kim Seokjin, not even one bit, because isn’t it obvious that he should be annoyed by the impolite basketball team members? “Jimin was speaking so casually to you.” Namjoon’s frown deepens as he considers something. “Unless you guys already know each other?” Is that why Kim Seokjin wanted to join Namjoon’s club? Because he wanted to see Jimin more? Isn’t that annoying, to disturb Namjoon’s practice just so he can see Jimin?

Kim Seokjin shakes his head. “We don’t, but I don’t mind it.” When he sees Namjoon’s skeptical expression, he laughs. “Really, I mean it. It’s nice actually, how friendly everyone is here.” His cheeks are red when he glances over at Namjoon. “You can talk casually to me too, if you want.”

Namjoon stares. “What?”

“You can call me hyung, if you want.” Kim Seokjin takes a deep breath. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

It looks like a very difficult thing for Kim Seokjin to say, but it would be rude for Namjoon to call him a liar or deny his request, right?”

Namjoon swallows. “Seokjin-hyung?”

Seokjin’s smile is almost blinding. “Yes, Namjoon-ah?”

The gymnasium is hot. So horrifically hot, and Namjoon can’t stand it. Maybe he needs to go outside and get some fresh air. Run with everyone else to burn off some of the energy that seems to be buzzing in his veins.

“Seokjin-hyung, did you want to be our club manager?”

Seokjin smiles, a smile so big that Namjoon isn’t sure what to think of it. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to go run with everyone else - he feels like he’s struggling to breathe. Maybe his allergies are acting up

 “I’d love that.”

+++

“So did you guys have a manager before me?” Seokjin asks as they clean up. Like yesterday, he throws basketballs into the bin without much thought yet still manages not to miss. He seems focused on the basketballs, though every once in a while Namjoon catches him looking over at him. Maybe he’s wondering if Namjoon approves of his basketball form.

“We did,” Namjoon confirms. He throws the basketball behind him without looking, glancing over at Seokjin after he hears the basketball properly make its landing, unable to hide his smile as Seokjin stares at him, obviously impressed by his skill. At least this is one thing Namjoon feels confident about. “It was the girlfriend of last year’s captain. But she quit when they broke up, and we just never ended up replacing her.” He pauses. “I think the year before that it was also the captain’s girlfriend. I guess there’s not much reason for someone to be interested in the role. Probably why we couldn’t get a new manager afterward.”

Seokjin misses his next shot, coughing harshly. His face is red, obviously embarrassed after missing his shot in front of the basketball captain. “I see. You guys must miss having a pretty girl around to cheer you on.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t think most of them cared considering she was dating someone.” Namjoon certainly didn’t care, almost forgetting that they had a club manager before Seokjin. It’s not like it was something worth Namjoon’s attention, much more focused on practice. “I mean, if anything, you’re a lot more distracting, but we’re all focused on practice here.”

Seokjin frowns. “Am I distracting?”

Namjoon nods. He thinks about how a lot of the basketball team members try to talk to Seokjin during their breaks, and some of them like to linger after practice to say goodbye despite usually being the first people to make a break for it. He thinks about how clean-up is taking longer than normal, eyes drawn to the shots Seokjin continues to miss rather than the mess Namjoon needs to clean up. “You’re pretty, hyung. Of course you’re going to be a little distracting. Just let me know if any of the guys are bothering you too much, I’m more than happy to talk to them.”

Seokjin has stopped trying to shoot the basketballs, frozen in place. Maybe he decided it was too embarrassing to keep missing shots in front of the basketball captain, cheeks bright red. “Pretty?”

“Oh, sorry. I should probably call you handsome because you’re a guy, right?” Namjoon ponders the thought, looking Seokjin up and down. Of course, Seokjin is very handsome, maybe the most handsome person Namjoon has ever seen, like a movie star that plays across a big screen. But there’s the glow of his skin that reminds Namjoon of a sunset, a twinkle in his eyes that’s reminiscent of the night stars, the kind of flawless details to him that could only be found in a painting in a museum. Namjoon thinks a lot of guys can be handsome, but there’s something so pretty about Seokjin that feels dangerous.

Seokjin stares at Namjoon with wide eyes and blurts, “You’re very handsome too, Namjoon-ah!”

Namjoon really needs to talk to the teacher about getting the AC in the gymnasium fixed, he thinks, as he finally realizes how hot it is inside. His whole face is flushed.

“I think we’re almost done cleaning up,” Namjoon says hurriedly, picking up the basketballs Seokjin has dropped and quickly throwing them into the bin. He can’t look at Seokjin’s face to see if he notices Namjoon’s lying, focusing on the bin to make sure he doesn’t miss any of his shots. “You’re welcome to go on ahead, if you want.”

Seokjin is silent, and Namjoon wonders what kind of face he’s making. He’s tempted to look, but he worries it would delay clean-up even more. Namjoon wonders why he’s moving so slowly today.

“Okay,” Seokjin finally says, voice quieter than it had been just a few moments earlier. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Namjoon confirms. He waits until he hears the click of the gym door closing before hurrying to finish cleaning. It notably takes a longer time than the day before, Namjoon’s back achingly missing the help of a second person as he lugs the rest of the equipment into the supply closet. 

When he exits the gym, he’s surprised to see someone waiting outside.

“Hyung?” Namjoon asks, blinking. Seokjin is leaning against the outside wall, discretely tapping away at his phone. There’s not that many teachers left at school to be worried. In fact, there’s not that many students left either, and there’s times where Namjoon is leaving basketball practice where it’s eerily quiet.

Seokjin jumps when Namjoon speaks, and he flashes Namjoon a sheepish smile once he realizes who’s talking. “There was something I had to go pick up from one of the teachers, and then I was wondering if you had left yet.”

“Oh.” Namjoon didn’t realize Seokjin was so busy. Did he really have time to help Namjoon out? “Were you waiting long?”

Seokjin looks up. He wrings his hands together. “Not at all.”

Namjoon nods. Good. He would feel guilty if Seokjin had been wasting even more time on Namjoon. How incompetent did Namjoon look if Seokjin was worried enough to linger behind to check on him? Did he think Namjoon was incapable of cleaning by himself? “Are you heading home now?”

Seokjin pockets his phone. “I was just about to head out.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says. “We can walk together then. You take the train going that way, right?” He gestures in the direction of his way home. “I do too.”

“Oh,” Seokjin says, digging his hands into his pockets. His voice seems tight. “I never noticed.”

Namjoon isn’t surprised - it’s not like he stands out in a crowd. Seokjin, on the other hand, is easy to spot on the train, even when it’s filled with other students wearing the same uniform. It might be his height, it might be the way he laughs when he’s joking around with his friends. Sometimes Namjoon strains to listen to what Seokjin might be saying, to see what could have him smiling so much. He especially tries to listen when his friends whisper something into his ear that has Seokjin turning bright red, but Namjoon can never hear what they’re saying.

On the train ride home, Namjoon tries to recall some of the jokes he’s heard Seokjin say, the ones that have made him laugh to himself early in the morning on the way to school. Nothing comes to mind, but Seokjin hardly seems to mind, laughing and smiling as Namjoon tells him about the time he managed to break his shoes in the middle of practice.

“This is my stop,” Seokjin says as the train begins to slow down. Namjoon glances down at his phone, surprised to see how much time had already passed - he’s glad Seokjin was here to say something, or he thinks he might’ve missed his stop coming up.

This time, Namjoon is the one to speak up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Namjoon feels like he’s Seokjin’s friends whispering things into Seokjin’s ears, the way he watches Seokjin’s face turn red.

“Tomorrow,” Seokjin says, wearing a smile that’s so bright Namjoon spends the rest of the train ride home wondering what he said that was so funny.

+++

It’s their first game of the year, which means Namjoon smiles through the pain of his ankle that he rolled onto earlier.

The other school isn’t very strong, so Namjoon is happy to let the junior members spend time on the floor, gaining the experience they’ll need for later games. He jumps in every few rounds, only to make sure that his team feels properly supported by their captain. It’s also easier to give them in the moment feedback, whispering to them things they could improve or loudly shouting compliments on their performance.

Namjoon loves it, loves the game, loves the way his teammates cheer each other on as they score another point. At some point, the smile he’s been faking to cover his grimace barely feels fake, the excitement of the first game of the year buzzing through his veins numbing the pain.

He forgets about his ankle until he’s waved goodbye to all of the boys, laughing as they groan when he warns them that practice tomorrow will still be intense. There’s a vague ache to his ankle, but he almost wonders if he imagined the whole thing until he’s being grabbed by the back of his shirt and pulled down onto the bench outside.

“What?” Namjoon frowns, though he stops frowning when he realizes it’s Seokjin who’s grabbed him. “Did I forget something?”

It’s been around a month since Seokjin became the basketball team’s manager, and really, Namjoon is starting to understand why the previous captains enjoyed having a manager so much.

It’s more than having a second set of hands to clean up practice with. Seokjin handles parts of Namjoon's job that Namjoon hates the most. Things like budgeting, paperwork, and making sure the boys were staying on top of their grades - Seokjin had taken the tasks upon himself effortlessly. Now Namjoon gets to focus on his sport, improving his own skills and helping the others improve theirs. And even then, Seokjin is present, taking videos of the boys so that they can see what they look like while playing, writing notes of feedback Namjoon mumbles to himself on the bleachers, ensuring that all of the equipment is working and functional.

And at the end of a long day, when Namjoon is exhausted, Seokjin is just there.

A lot of times, that’s what Namjoon needs the most.

Except today is a little different than normal. Namjoon has grown a couple of centimeters within the last month, but he’s still shorter than Seokjin, so he’s used to looking up. Normally, Seokjin is smiling at Namjoon, the kind of smile that has his cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling. He usually has something nice to say to Namjoon at the end of the day.

Today is a little different than normal. Namjoon has to look down at Seokjin, who’s dropped to his knees in front of Namjoon. His brows are furrowed, lips pouted and plump. When he speaks, his voice is low and clearly frustrated.

“Namjoon-ah?”

Namjoon stares at Seokjin with wide eyes. “What?”

“Would you like to take off your shoes, or would you like me to do it for you?” Seokjin asks, hand already settled around Namjoon’s shoe like he’s just waiting for permission to yank it off.

“You don’t need to do that,” Namjoon says, very aware that Seokjin is holding onto his sore ankle, and now that Namjoon is sitting down, the ache is starting to become more present. He’ll have to put ice on it when he goes home.

“What, were you planning on walking home like that?” 

Namjoon stares at Seokjin blankly, and Seokjin sighs loudly.

“I’m taking off your shoe!” Seokjin announces, undoing the laces to Namjoon’s shoe without any further warning. He has both shoes completely untied before Namjoon starts to panic.

“Hyung, it’ll be stinky!” Namjoon protests, trying to move his feet away from Seokjin. Unfortunately, despite Seokjin claiming to never exercise, he’s stronger than Namjoon, and his grip on Namjoon’s ankles is firm enough to keep him in place.

“Namjoon, I’ve been cleaning up after you stinky basketball boys for the past month, and I’ve given several unsuccessful lectures about doing laundry on a regular basis. Your stinky, sweaty feet are the least of my concerns right now.” Seokjin doesn’t leave room for argument, taking off Namjoon’s left shoe, quickly followed by his sock.

Seokjin’s fingers gently feather across Namjoon’s ankle, and his frown deepens the longer he stares.

“See, I told you it’d be stinky,” Namjoon jokes, and then Seokjin uses a palm on his heel to move his foot, and it doesn’t seem very funny anymore. He’s not even able to cover up his wince, biting his lip to avoid making any sound.

If Namjoon doesn’t find his joke funny anymore, Seokjin certainly doesn’t think it’s funny, glaring harshly at Namjoon. “Sorry, I’m much more distracted by how swollen your ankle is.” He’s kind enough to not move Namjoon’s foot anymore, but he doesn’t stop staring either. “You did this at the beginning of the game, right? When Jimin passed the ball to you near the end of the court.”

This time, Namjoon is the one to frown, because he’s surprised Seokjin even noticed such a thing. He wonders if he was more obvious than he thought, and if the rest of the team noticed as well. The thought frustrates him, because the last thing he wants to do is appear weak to his team. He definitely doesn’t want to appear weak to Seokjin.

Namjoon swallows. “I made sure to spend some time on the bench.”

Seokjin huffs, shaking his head. “If one of the boys had done something stupid like this, you’d be yelling at them until the end of the night.”

“No, I wouldn’t!” Namjoon lies, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And remember the other day when you weren’t feeling well and you refused to go home even after I told you to? You’re not any better!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. “That’s different. I’m older than you, so you have to listen to me but I don’t have to listen to you.” Namjoon doesn’t mention that despite being only a second-year student, because he is captain, all the third-year members of the basketball team still listen to him. Maybe Namjoon should think Seokjin is being annoying, but even as he rolls his eyes he’s laughing at his hyung’s petulant behavior.

“Since I’m a nice and forgiving hyung, I’ll let you show up for practice tomorrow,” Seokjin says. He pulls out an athletic wrap from his bag and quickly gets to work on wrapping Namjoon’s ankle. “But you’re off the floor and banned to the bleachers the entire time. Argue with me, and I’ll send you to the school nurse who’ll be a lot stricter with your limitations than I am.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to argue, but Seokjin stares back at him with a pointed expression and a menacing grip on Namjoon’s hurt ankle. He closes his mouth, and supposes it wouldn’t be bad to listen to Seokjin. Or at least wait until practice tomorrow to try arguing his case.

Once Seokjin seems satisfied that Namjoon doesn’t plan on moving, he stands up and pulls out his cellphone. Namjoon briefly hears the dial tone on Seokjin’s phone, but he doesn’t realize who Seokjin has called until about twenty minutes later, when a car pulls up and an oddly familiar looking face pops out.

“Are you ready to go home, sweetie?” The woman asks Seokjin, and when Namjoon looks back at Seokjin, he makes the connection on why the woman’s face looks so familiar - it must be Seokjin’s mom. She has the same soft eyes that sparkle in the same way Seokjin’s do when he smiles.

“Get some good rest, hyung,” Namjoon says, waving goodbye to Seokjin. He’s a little disappointed that he won’t get to ride the train home with Seokjin, but he’s also glad that Seokjin will be able to go home and rest quickly. A few times, Seokjin has mentioned how quick he is to shower and change into pajamas when he gets home, and Namjoon likes to imagine him doing the same thing tonight. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, opening the car door. “We’re driving you home, Namjoon. You’re not walking home on your injured ankle.”

Namjoon shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

Seokjin’s mom laughs, shaking her head. “Seokjin was right. You really do act all cool, don’t you?”

“Mom,” Seokjin whines, waving his mom back into the car. He gestures to the backseat, looking at Namjoon again. “Come on, I’m getting tired.”

Namjoon doesn’t think Seokjin looks very tired, but only a few minutes after getting into the car and driving off, he realizes that Seokjin’s been quiet for too long. His breathing has evened out, cheek pressed against the car window, eyes closed. Namjoon thinks it’s a bit unfair for Seokjin to look pretty even when sleeping.

“You know, Seokjin rarely asks us for anything,” Seokjin’s mom suddenly says. Namjoon can see her peering at her son through the rearview mirror with a smile. “So I was surprised when he suddenly called asking for a ride.”

Namjoon blinks. He’s surprised, considering Seokjin didn’t hesitate to call his parents for a ride. Especially at this time of night. “Oh. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, no, it’s my pleasure. I feel bad never helping my son out, so this is nice for me.” She grins. “It’s also nice to finally meet you, Namjoon. I hear a lot about you.”

“You do?”

Seokjin’s mom hums, glancing at Seokjin again. Still sleeping. “Seokjin thinks you’re very impressive, you know?”

Namjoon frowns. “I don’t think I’m very impressive.” Especially not in comparison to Seokjin. Smart, funny, handsome. More athletic than he likes to pretend. Every angle of Seokjin is impressive. He’s even impressive while sleeping, Namjoon thinks, noting how still Seokjin has been this entire time. 

Seokjin stays still the entire car ride, sleeping like he’s dead to the outside world until his mom loudly announces that they’ve arrived at Namjoon’s house. Even then, it takes a moment for Seokjin to stir, slowly turning to face Namjoon with sleepy, blinking eyes.

“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin whines, and Namjoon’s stomach flips and flops. He hopes he hasn’t caught a stomach bug of sorts. “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.” He groans, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Why? You’re cute when you're sleeping,” Namjoon says, thinking about how he normally snores while he sleeps. There’s definitely pictures circulating around the basketball team of Namjoon drooling the one time he fell asleep in class the day after a grueling practice.

Seokjin’s mother bursts into laughter at the same time Seokjin jumps out of the car, and Namjoon only has a moment to stare in confusion before his door is being swung open, a flushed Seokjin on the other side.

“You shouldn’t work your body so hard when you get all red like that so easily,” Namjoon grumbles, and the increasing loudness of Seokjin’s mom’s laughter is muffled when Seokjin slams the car door behind Namjoon.

Namjoon is about to say something about needing to grab his bags, but Seokjin is already walking ahead of him with Namjoon’s bag slung over his shoulder. He doesn’t even react to Namjoon’s protests that he could carry his bags himself, knocking on Namjoon’s front door and waiting patiently until Namjoon’s parents open the door just a few moments later.

“Oh, Namjoon, what did you do to yourself this time?” Namjoon’s mother asks a second after opening the door, eyes caught on Namjoon’s bandaged foot.

Before Namjoon can insist he’s fine, Seokjin is speaking. “He’ll need to keep it elevated overnight at least, and he shouldn’t be walking on it unless he has to. If you have an ice pack, he should apply that to his ankle.”

Namjoon groans, taking in his mom’s wide eyes. “Hyung, you’re being overreactive, I’ll be just fine if I get some sleep.”

“Hyung?” Namjoon’s mom repeats, her eyes widening again. Except this time, her wide eyes are paired with a smile, and her gaze drifts over to Seokjin. Her smile widens. “Oh, you must be the Seokjin-hyung we hear so much about.”

Seokjin’s cool expression falters, entire body freezing. He almost drops Namjoon’s bags, but as the strap is about to slide off his shoulder, he recovers. “Oh,” he says, sounding surprised. “Uh. Maybe.” He glances at Namjoon. “Maybe?”

Namjoon stares back at Seokjin skeptically. “How many Seokjin-hyung’s do you think I have?”

“I just,” Seokjin starts, taking a deep breath in. He puffs out his cheeks as he breathes out. “I just don’t think there’s that much to hear about me, that’s all.”

Seokjin must be tired, because Namjoon doesn’t think he’s making any sense at all. “I mean, I probably don’t see anyone as much as I see you, so of course there’s a lot to talk about.” Namjoon’s parents are both busy, so he doesn’t try to take up their time with too many stories. But it’s impossible not to mention Seokjin, whether it’s telling his parents about how helpful Seokjin was during basketball practice, or just pondering aloud how Seokjin gets his hair to look so shiny.

Seokjin nods, slowly. “Yeah. Of course.”

“I mean,” Namjoon adds, the thought occurring to him, “it’s like how your mom knew about me. Same thing.”

Seokjin makes a weird noise in the back of his throat, but it's mostly covered up by Namjoon’s mom’s laughter. Namjoon wonders if there’s some weird parental joke that he’s missing, the way his mom and Seokjin’s mom keep laughing in front of him. Does he look that silly, standing next to Seokjin?

Namjoon isn’t able to find out - Seokjin is running off after yelling that he’ll be there in the morning to help carry Namjoon’s things to school, and Namjoon’s mom just laughs even harder when he tries asking about it.

+++

As captain, Namjoon is obligated to appear confident in front of his team. In the prior year, Namjoon remembers being new to the team, and watching the captain confidently lead them into every game, wearing a calm and collected smile the entire time.

Namjoon wears the same calm and collected smile, and now he wonders if the prior captain’s smile was just as fake as Namjoon’s.

For the past three years, Namjoon’s school has always lost to this school, and the other team’s smug grins are a bitter reminder of that. Particularly Yoongi stops during their walk towards the locker room, eyes narrowing as one of the other school’s members not-so-discretely says something about easily winning again this year. As captain, Namjoon is quick to loop an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder and continue shuffling him along before a fight can break out.

Namjoon is quick to change, only taking a brief moment to appreciate the new jerseys Seokjin managed to get the budget for. Unlike the old jerseys, the red color pops, the edges clean and intact versus old frayed seams. There’s a part of Namjoon that misses the old jerseys, but he also remembers being embarrassed wearing such a tattered uniform, especially in front of a richer school like this one.

With extra time before everyone else gets ready, Namjoon ducks out of the locker room to step outside. Summer approaches closer every day, but the spring wind graces Namjoon, a cool breeze washing over his face. The rustling of tree leaves works in harmony with the sound of Namjoon’s heartbeat. 

The door creeks open behind Namjoon, a fair warning of the entrance of someone else, but he still jumps when someone plops down on the ground next to him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Seokjin says, shooting Namjoon a small, apologetic smile. “I just wanted to see if you needed something to drink.” He holds out a fresh water bottle, and Namjoon takes the offering wordlessly. “It’s cold, so it should help.”

It’s a little embarrassing how transparent Seokjin’s attempt to check in on Namjoon is, and it’s even more embarrassing that Namjoon must be visibly distressed enough for Seokjin to notice. He doesn’t bother trying to deny anything, because even if Seokjin’s concerned gaze makes Namjoon feel a little shameful, he’s grateful for Seokjin’s presence.

He takes a sip of water before loosely twisting the cap back on. It is cold, and the buzzing in his head begins to dim. He should hand the drink back to Seokjin and reassure him that he’ll join everyone in just a moment.

Namjoon clutches the water bottle in his hands. Stares down at his lap. There’s a small point of contact between his shoulder and Seokjin’s shoulder, and he focuses on that over the anxious thoughts in his head. 

“If you want, I can go and beat up the other team,” Seokjin says suddenly, pulling Namjoon out of his thoughts with a snort.

“All of them?”

“Of course,” Seokjin says with an earnest nod, posing with his fists up. “I heard them all talking. Someone needs to teach those smug idiots a lesson.” He throws a couple of fake punches, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. 

The furrow of Namjoon’s own eyebrows is forgotten as a smile overtakes his face without even thinking. “Do you beat them up one at a time, or all at once?”

“I have to get them all at once, before they have a chance to run away,” Seokjin says, matching Namjoon’s smile. His eyes twinkle. “So what do you think? Should hyung do it?”

When Namjoon laughs, he finds himself leaning against Seokjin, head tilted until it rests on Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin’s shoulders stiffen for a moment when Namjoon’s head makes contact, and Namjoon almost apologizes for his head being too heavy but Seokjin relaxes a moment later. Maybe it was just Namjoon’s imagination.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble, hyung,” Namjoon says softly, still smiling. He thinks that if Seokjin really wanted to start a fight, he’d easily be able to talk his way out of it. “Besides, if you beat them all up and the game gets cancelled, then we really won’t have a chance to win against them.”

Seokjin sighs dramatically. “Then I guess I can hold off beating them up for now. Go tell the rest of the team they have to win now, or else I’ll get in a lot of trouble for starting a fight.”

Namjoon does realize he’s been tricked a little bit, but he’s hardly mad, enjoying the surge of energy Seokjin’s words have given him. He doesn’t think Seokjin would actually start a fight if they lost, but now if they win, it isn’t just a win for the team, it’s a win for Seokjin. And that motivates Namjoon a lot more than he thought it would.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that now,” Namjoon says, his newfound energy propelling him into a standing position. He doesn’t even think about the water bottle in his hand until it’s slipping out of his hand, the lid somehow nowhere to be found before the entirety of the bottle dumps all over Seokjin’s shirt.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon says, staring at Seokjin’s soaked shirt in horror. “I am so sorry, hyung.”

Despite being partially drenched, Seokjin doesn’t look that upset with Namjoon. He’s actually laughing, and Namjoon would be more embarrassed if he wasn’t focused on feeling guilty.

“It’s fine, I’m sure it’ll dry off quickly,” Seokjin says, pulling the wet fabric away from his skin. The white fabric of his shirt is dangerously close to transparent, parts of it plastered tightly to Seokjin’s skin now. It clings to the smallest part of his waist, a stark contrast to how the school uniform stretches at his shoulders, and it’s not fine, it’s not fine at all. It’ll distract too many people if Seokjin walks around like that, Namjoon knows that.

“Wait, I have something you can borrow,” Namjoon says, grabbing Seokjin by the wrist and tugging him to the locker room where his bag is before he can protest. He does protest regardless of the lack of room for argument, babbling about how he’ll be fine the entire time Namjoon drags him along. Namjoon must’ve been walking faster than he thought, because by the time they arrive Seokjin’s face is all red, eyes glued to where Namjoon has a grip on him.

“Ah, sorry,” Namjoon quickly apologizes, letting go. Despite Seokjin being so broad, his wrists felt surprisingly small within Namjoon’s grasp. He wonders if he was gripping too hard, and Seokjin was staring because he’s too polite to say anything. “Here, I was thinking you could wear this.”

Namjoon tosses his old jersey shirt at Seokjin, wincing when Seokjin stares at it with wide eyes. “I promise I’ve washed it recently!” 

Seokjin glances down at the jersey, and then back up at Namjoon. “Are you sure?”

Namjoon frowns. “Hyung, I don’t just carry around dirty laundry.”

He shakes his head. “I mean, are you sure it’s okay that I wear it?”

“Of course,” Namjoon says, eyes settling on Seokjin’s shoulders. They really do stand out compared to his waist. It’s hard to look away, because really, how often does Namjoon see people as pretty as Seokjin? Even after seeing Seokjin almost every day since he joined the basketball club, he finds himself bewildered. “It might be a little tight, so I hope it fits. If not, I can ask one of the bigger guys to see if they have any spare clothes.”

Seokjin shakes his head vehemently. “No, this is good!” He clutches Namjoon’s jersey to his chest before running off to the bathroom, presumably to change. Namjoon doesn’t even have a chance to tell Seokjin that they’re in a locker room, and he could've just changed out here. Maybe he’s worried that Namjoon’s jersey will fit him weirdly and he wants a chance to fix it in front of a mirror before appearing in front of everyone. 

Seokjin appears a few minutes later, arms crossed over his chest and hands covering his arms unsuccessfully. It’s the first time Namjoon has seen Seokjin’s bare shoulders, he realizes. He knows Seokjin’s shoulders are wide, which is why Namjoon’s fascinated by how small Seokjin looks now, folded in on himself as he tries to cover up his exposed arms.

“Hyung!” Jimin shouts, running over to Seokjin with a wide smile. Namjoon forgot that the rest of the team can also see Seokjin, and with a quick glance around the room, it’s not only Jimin who’s looking at Seokjin. Namjoon finds himself annoyed, because shouldn’t the team be focused on the game looming ahead of them instead of staring at Seokjin?

Jimin drapes himself over Seokjin, giggling as Seokjin squeaks. “Hyung, the jersey looks really good on you! You look like you should be out on the court with us!” He grabs Seokjin's arms, squeezing. “Wow, you have really nice arms, hyung. What’s your workout routine?”

Namjoon decides to save Seokjin from Jimin’s rambunctious energy, pulling the younger team member off of him. He likes that he can see Seokjin easier now that Jimin isn’t hanging off of him. The old jersey looks especially ratty on Seokjin, the faded red almost blending into the blush that’s spread down to Seokjin’s chest. It must be embarrassing for Seokjin to be wearing Namjoon’s old, ratty jersey.

“If it’s in the budget, you should get yourself a new jersey too,” Namjoon says, taking in Seokjin wearing the basketball team uniform. It’s a bit weird, seeing his team number written on someone else’s back, but he doesn’t mind it. Just weird. “I like that it makes you look like part of the team.” Part of Namjoon’s team.

“Maybe,” Seokjin says, looking down at the jersey he’s wearing. He’s biting back a smile as he fidgets with the hem, clearly happy. Namjoon wonders if his hesitancy in getting his own jersey has to do with the budget.

Namjoon doesn’t get a chance to ask Seokjin about it, because the team starts yelling at him that the game will be starting soon and he needs to lead their pre-game huddle. He keeps glancing at Seokjin wearing his jersey as he talks to the team, trying to let Seokjin’s confidence from earlier infiltrate his words. It seems to work, because the nervous expressions of his team members seem to fade as he talks, and by the time he tells them that Seokjin threatened to get in trouble and beat up the other team if they lose, everyone is laughing light-heartedly.

The confidence and energy transfers easily into the game, and Namjoon isn’t even stressed when they enter the fourth quarter and the two teams are tied for points. If he glances to the sidelines and makes eye contact with Seokjin, he’s met with an encouraging smile and a couple of punches into the air. If they don’t make eye contact, it’s usually because Seokjin is talking to the boys on the bench, cheering them on in a similar way.

When they win, it’s Seokjin that Namjoon looks for first. The team is obnoxiously cheering even before they get off the court, which normally Namjoon might be scolding them for being so rude in public, but even he’s cheering as he makes his way over to Seokjin, who is perhaps cheering the loudest of them all.

“I guess I’ll have to save a taste of my fists for the next team,” Seokjin jokes when Namjoon is in earshot. He swings a couple of punches as demonstration, and with the jersey on and his arms exposed, Namjoon gets to see in detail the way Seokjin’s muscles flex.

The rest of the team gathers around them to celebrate, and Seokjin gets pushed forward towards Namjoon. Namjoon easily catches Seokjin in a hug, and the cheering gets oddly louder.

“It’s because Seokjin-hyung was wearing Namjoon-hyung’s jersey!” Jimin announces once they’re back in the locker room. The conversations have become split between celebrating and talking smack about the other team, but Jimin’s words seem to capture everyone’s attention. “Hyung, you need to wear that jersey every game! You’re our good luck charm!”

Even though they’ve moved from the court, Namjoon still has an arm wrapped around Seokjin’s shoulders, a lingering touch from their earlier hug. So Namjoon’s close enough to see Seokjin’s cheeks go red at Jimin’s suggestion.

“Oh, but this is Namjoon’s,” Seokjin protests, and his cheeks turn even redder at his own words. Namjoon doesn’t know how to break it to Seokjin that everyone definitely already knew it was Namjoon’s jersey, and it’s too late to be embarrassed being caught wearing Namjoon’s raggedy clothes. “I can’t just keep it.”

“Why not?” Namjoon asks. “It’s not like I’m using it anymore.” He squeezes Seokjin’s shoulder reassuringly, but it just seems to make Seokjin more nervous.

“It must mean something to you, if you were carrying it around,” Seokjin points out, and Namjoon can’t argue with that. It’s the jersey he wore when he started on the team, and it’s the jersey he wore when he first got appointed team captain. There’s emotional value to it, which is why Namjoon didn’t just throw it away despite not having any use for it.

“You’ll just have to carry it around for me,” Namjoon says, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, it looks better on you anyway.”

The team cheers some more, and while Namjoon didn’t realize they were still celebrating their win so loudly, he’s happy to cheer along with them. The whole day feels like a big win to Namjoon, after all.

+++

The basketball team has always felt like family to Namjoon, and even during more intense games, they’ve always managed to get along. The occasionally snide remarks happen, but they’re usually forgotten about after the heat of the moment dies down, or are swiftly followed up by an apology.

So Namjoon is surprised in the middle of a normal practice that there’s suddenly intense shouting happening between two of the team members. Within the crowd of the team, it’s hard to tell who’s actually arguing at first, but as the shouting gets louder the rest of the crowd spreads, revealing Yoongi and Jimin yelling at each other.

“You don’t have to be such an asshole every time you give feedback, you know!” Jimin shouts, taking a step forward and glaring at Yoongi challengingly.

Yoongi doesn’t take a step back, but he doesn’t meet Jimin’s gaze, turning his head to the side with a huff. “If I thought you were going to be such a baby about it, I wouldn’t have bothered saying anything.”

“Don’t call me immature when you’re the one who’s clearly refusing to apologize for being an ass!”

Jimin is right; Yoongi doesn’t look very interested in apologizing, opening his mouth to probably say something else snarky. Before he can speak though, Seokjin is already on the court pulling Yoongi to the side, only a few steps ahead of Namjoon who subsequently grabs Jimin and drags him off the court as well while telling the rest of the team to resume practice.

From the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see Seokjin dragging Yoongi to the locker room, so Namjoon chooses to take Jimin outside, forcing Jimin to take a seat on the bench before talking to him.

“What the hell was that about?” Namjoon asks, wincing at the force the question comes out of his mouth. With a deep sigh, he relaxes his shoulders and tries again. “Sorry, I’m just worried. You guys usually get along so well. What happened?”

Jimin wriggles nervously in his seat, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “Yoongi-hyung was right. I was being too sensitive about things.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” Namjoon says, trying to think about the times he’s given Jimin feedback. Out of all of the team, Jimin might actually be the easiest person to correct, the younger one taking feedback quickly and applying it to his technique with ease. It definitely has never seemed like Jimin was irritated with Namjoon’s constructive criticism. “If Yoongi hasn’t been kind about the way he’s giving feedback, that’s something I need to know so I can follow up with him.”

On the other hand, Namjoon is always impressed with the way Yoongi works with the rest of the team. Namjoon had been shocked when Yoongi hadn’t wanted the captain position, especially considering he would’ve gotten it with ease as the older member. So he’s surprised to hear that Yoongi might be inappropriately giving advice to Jimin, and by the way Jimin urgently shakes his head, maybe that’s not the case.

“It’s really not Yoongi-hyung’s fault!” Jimin insists, almost a whine as he kicks his feet. “I just like him so much, so I just get so embarrassed when he has to correct something. I want him to think I’m good at basketball, but he always has something to say.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to reassure Jimin that he’s plenty good at basketball, maybe one of the best out of the first years, until the rest of Jimin’s words click in his brain.

“You like Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon asks, forgetting the reassuring captain speech he had been mentally planning until just now. “Like, you have a crush on him?”

Jimin groans, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in between. “God, no offense Namjoon-hyung, but you’re maybe the last person I want to be talking to about this.”

Namjoon frowns. He doesn’t date, and it’s not like the team isn’t aware of that, but as the team captain, it does hurt his feelings a little bit to be told that his team members don’t want to come to him for advice. “Maybe you should just talk to Yoongi-hyung about it.” 

Jimin’s distressed expression turns skeptical. “Talk to him about how I have a crush on him?”

Namjoon nods. “I mean, do you think he likes you back?” Namjoon admittedly hadn’t been paying attention to the dynamic between his two team members, but he thinks maybe it’d be cute, Jimin and Yoongi together. “Even if he doesn’t, Yoongi-hyung is a nice guy. I’m sure he’d be understanding if you just told him.”

Jimin’s sighs. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this, you clearly don’t understand,” he says, standing up from the bench. “I’m going home from practice for the day, I don’t think I could stand seeing Yoongi-hyung again today. But I’ll talk to Seokjin-hyung before practice tomorrow, to see if that helps.”

Namjoon doesn’t have any better advice for Jimin, who clearly isn’t impressed with Namjoon’s input, so he watches helplessly as the younger packs up his stuff and goes home for the day. Yoongi eventually returns to practice with Seokjin following close behind him. He says a quick, quiet apology to Namjoon for disturbing practice before returning to the court.

“Apparently Jimin has a crush on Yoongi,” Namjoon says quietly when Seokjin joins him by his side.

Seokjin flashes a small smile. “I figured. He’s pretty obvious about it.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. “You knew?” He thinks about how Jimin said he wanted to talk to Seokjin over Namjoon. “You really are an expert at this kind of stuff, huh?”

Seokjin freezes for a second, and then laughs quietly, shifting his weight between his feet. “Well, some personal experience, I guess.”

Before Namjoon can question what Seokjin means, he’s running off to offer water to the boys despite the fact that they just recently had a water break. It might be getting hotter outside, but Namjoon hardly thinks it’s hot enough to justify another break.

As Namjoon watches Seokjin interact with the rest of the boys, it hits him like a brick: Seokjin probably has a crush on someone. Some personal experience. It makes sense that Jimin would want to talk to Seokjin about his crush, if Seokjin was much more capable of relating to Jimin’s struggle than Namjoon.

Namjoon’s mind spins. Is it one of the boys on the team? Namjoon had wondered about it when Seokjin first wanted to randomly join the basketball team, but it never felt like Seokjin was specifically paying attention to one of the other basketball members, more focused on working together with Namjoon. Not that anyone on the team would be good enough for Seokjin.

It’s on Namjoon’s mind when he lays down for bed at night, finding himself more and more restless the longer he thinks about it. Of course, it only makes sense that someone as handsome as Seokjin would be interested in dating. Namjoon doesn’t know how many people he’s dated before, but surely there’s been lots of people who have confessed to Seokjin. And if someone as pretty as Seokjin has a crush on someone, surely the feeling is mutual, right?

Namjoon frowns at the thought of dating someone. There’s no rules about dating in the basketball club, but not many of the boys date, much more focused on the basketball club. If Seokjin got a boyfriend, wouldn’t he have a lot less time to focus on the club? And if Seokjin has a crush on someone, shouldn’t Namjoon know? They talk a lot, after all. Namjoon would hope that Seokjin would feel comfortable telling Namjoon about it.

It’s on Namjoon’s mind when he takes the train to school in the morning, and he’s almost tempted to join Seokjin and his friends in their conversation. Except one of them whispers something into Seokjin’s ear that makes Seokjin turn bright red, and there’s a moment when Namjoon’s gaze meets Seokjin’s before Seokjin quickly looks away, and Namjoon looks away quickly too. Were Seokjin’s friends teasing Seokjin about his crush, and Seokjin doesn’t want Namjoon to know about it? The thought makes Namjoon’s chest hurt. He thought they were closer than that.

It’s on Namjoon’s mind during the lunch hour, and he finds himself walking towards Seokjin’s classroom. He wants to follow up on the conversation Seokjin had with Yoongi yesterday, to see if there’s anything he can do as captain to make sure practice goes smoothly for Jimin and Yoongi. And maybe he wants to see if he can spot Seokjin’s crush. There’s a good chance they’re in the same classroom, after all.

“Namjoon-ah?” Seokjin looks shocked to see Namjoon, glancing nervously at his friends who have suddenly all abandoned him in a fit of giggles. It gives space for Namjoon to approach Seokjin’s desk, hands shoved in his pockets so he doesn’t have to worry about what to do with them. He does a quick glance around the classroom and quickly confirms his suspicions; there’s not anyone nearly handsome enough for Seokjin to date. That probably means whoever Seokjin has a crush on isn’t here, and for some reason, that helps Namjoon relax.

“Uh.” Wait. What did he come here to ask Seokjin about? “Hyung, is there someone you have a crush on?”

Seokjin’s face turns bright red, confirming Namjoon’s suspicions - he definitely has a crush on someone. But Namjoon wasn’t even supposed to ask him if he had a crush, so he definitely can’t ask who. He wants Seokjin to be the one to tell him these things. Since they’re friends, after all.

“What makes you ask?” Seokjin finally asks, voice squeaky.

“I was just worried,” Namjoon says. It’s true - he is worried, because if Seokjin has a crush, wouldn’t that mean he’d be dating someone soon? “That if you started dating someone, you wouldn’t be able to come to basketball practice as often.” And then Namjoon wouldn’t get to see Seokjin as often, which would be unfortunate. He likes hanging out with Seokjin, after all.

“Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin says, eyes focused on the ground. “I don’t plan on leaving the basketball club anytime soon, so you don’t need to worry about things like that.”

It’s not until Namjoon is back in his own classroom that he realizes Seokjin never answered his question. His heart sinks at the thought; they really aren’t as close as Namjoon thought after all.

+++

With practice intensity ramping up as they continue through the championship preliminaries, by the time practice comes to an end, Namjoon is usually exhausted. His muscles ache, his throat hurts from talking so much, and his brain already hurts thinking about the studying he needs to do when he gets home.

Today is different though, because even as they’re packing up the last of the supplies, Namjoon’s entire body is buzzing. He can’t keep still, whether he’s bouncing on his feet or tapping his fingers on whatever he can get his hands on. Recently, Seokjin has been the one to prevent silence from overtaking their time together, telling Namjoon about his day, about his plans for the basketball club, or even whatever random joke that comes to his mind. But today Namjoon can’t keep his mouth shut, finding commentary to share on everything that crosses his mind.

“I was thinking about adding morning practice a couple days a week for the next few months, but do you think that’d be too much?” Namjoon asks, fumbling with the basketball in his hands. Seokjin has already glanced at it a few times, clearly waiting for Namjoon to put it away so they can go home. 

“I think everyone is tired enough as it is,” Seokjin says, leaning against the storage bin. “We could try extending the weekend practice times, but I know there’s a handful of the boys who are already falling behind on their schoolwork.”

Namjoon frowns, dribbling the ball. The thudding of the ball bouncing on the ground sounds the same as the aching thudding of Namjoon’s heartbeat in his head. Seokjin’s gaze on him feels heavy, a mix of expectant and concerned and it just makes the thudding in Namjoon’s head louder. So he walks away, dribbling the ball along with him as he heads towards the hoop on the opposite side of the gym.

He doesn’t expect to hear footsteps following behind him, and he certainly doesn’t expect for the ball to be stolen out of his possession. He stares at Seokjin with wide eyes as Seokjin awkwardly dribbles the ball in front of himself, obviously unsure of what to do with himself. However, for someone who seems so unconfident about the sport, he’s quick to react when Namjoon tries to steal the ball back, quickly side stepping Namjoon’s swipe for the ball.

“Let’s make a bet,” Seokjin says. This time, when Namjoon tries to take the ball back, Seokjin very illegally picks up the ball completely and hugs it to his chest. “If I make a single basket, you have to cancel practice tomorrow.”

Namjoon almost trips over his own feet. “Cancel practice?”

“I know you’re worried about our upcoming games, but it’s about quality over quantity. We could practice every day all day, but it won’t matter if everyone is too exhausted and can’t properly practice.”

Namjoon’s foot taps uncontrollably. “You think I haven’t been properly practicing?” His jaw hurts from how tense it is. Namjoon knows he’s not a perfect captain, but he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job leading the team this year. It’s the furthest they’ve ever made it while aiming for the championships, and while Namjoon acknowledges there’s a lot of strong individuals on the team this year, some of their success has to be thanks to him, right? So who is Seokjin, who doesn’t actually play basketball, to tell Namjoon he hasn’t been doing a good enough job?

Seokjin bites his lip. “I think your mind is in a lot of places right now. If you don’t let yourself rest at all, of course it’s going to become difficult to focus.”

Namjoon kind of wants to throw up. So Seokjin does think Namjoon isn’t doing a good job. How long has Seokjin been thinking this? He watches Namjoon play, he watches all the other boys play. Is his performance affecting the rest of the boys?

Namjoon scowls. “If you thought I was doing such a shitty job, why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Seokjin flinches, clearly caught off guard by the way Namjoon has suddenly snapped. He recovers quickly, but his soft, concerned expression is replaced with something a little firmer, a little harsher. “At what point did I say you were doing a shitty job?”

“Clearly I haven’t been leading the team properly, according to you,” Namjoon says, crossing his arms over his chest. Seokjin is still holding the basketball, and he bites back the urge to snatch the ball back. “Which is funny, because I don’t remember you suddenly becoming a basketball expert.”

Namjoon watches Seokjin’s fingers go white as he clenches the basketball between his hands. “I might not know that much about basketball, but I do know that half of the boys are feeling burnt out, and the other half are struggling with their grades slipping. And I think you might be struggling with both of those things, but maybe not, because apparently I don’t know anything.”

Namjoon digs his nails into the palms of his hands, doing his best to ignore the way his eyes burn. Do the rest of the boys prefer talking to Seokjin about their struggles? Jimin certainly did, so why wouldn’t the rest of them? Is Namjoon so wrapped up in his head that he hasn’t even noticed that his team has been struggling to keep up with practice?

He takes a deep breath. Steadies his voice the best he can. “Okay, so we won’t add additional practice. Better?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. His face is still firm, not the soft expression Namjoon likes to see him wear. “And we’ll cancel practice for tomorrow?”

Namjoon glances down at the basketball in Seokjin’s hands. “I don’t know, hyung. Don’t you have a basket to make first?” He’s absolutely exhausted, but he positions himself in a defensive stance. “Because I’d love to see you try.”

The smile Seokjin answers with isn’t his usual delicate smile, but it still has Namjoon’s fingers tingling, a definite challenge written across the curve of his lips.

Seokjin does try his best, he really does. There’s definitely several illegal maneuvers as he tries to keep the ball away from Namjoon, but even then, Namjoon manages to snag the ball back.

They run up and down the court, and every time Namjoon makes another basket, he lets Seokjin take the ball back, even letting him get a head start on running back to the other side of the court. In the end though, he always snags the ball back with ease, and after a few times of doing so, he finds himself laughing at the way Seokjin’s pouts.

The laughter dies when he’s trying to keep the ball out of Seokjin’s hands, and he gets so distracted by Seokjin’s determined expression that he ends up tripping over his feet and falling to the ground with a loud thud.

It knocks the breath out of Namjoon, and he hears Seokjin’s shoes screech to a halt before quickly running over to see if Namjoon is okay. Namjoon grunts, hoping that’ll be enough reassurance, and it must be, because Seokjin wordlessly takes a seat next to Namjoon on the floor.

Silence fills the space, and Namjoon can feel Seokjin's gaze on him. He realizes, in defeat, that it’s his turn to speak.

“I’m sorry, hyung," Namjoon says, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t have the courage to look over at Seokjin. The heat of the moment has blown over, and as he pants to catch his breath, he can recognize he was a little cruel. “I’ve been stressed, but it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see Seokjin shifting his position on the floor. He’s not laying on the floor next to Namjoon, and Namjoon kind of wishes he would. Maybe it would be less scary to face him if they were both pathetically fallen on the floor.

Seokjin hums. “Thank you for the apology.” He taps his fingers on the floor. A much lighter thudding than the basketball dribbling. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t doing a good job. I should’ve realized that you were more stressed than I thought.”

Namjoon bites his lip, embarrassed. He doesn’t want Seokjin to have to baby him. He wants Seokjin to take him seriously, to see him as a good team captain. His chest hurts at the idea that Seokjin thinks he’s not good at being captain. “No, you were just giving good feedback. I’ll try to be better from here on.”

“You’re a really good captain, Namjoon-ah. You know that, right?”

When Namjoon finally has the courage to look up at Seokjin, he finally gets to see the smile he didn’t even realize he was missing; the smile that makes Seokjin’s cheeks puff up, sparking eyes shaped like moon crescents.

Namjoon can’t help but match Seokjin’s smile. “If I’m such a good captain, I should be able to teach my team manager how to make at least one basket, right?”

Seokjin laughs loudly. “It’s not good to set impossible goals, Namjoon-ah,” he says, but he doesn’t protest that much when Namjoon pulls him off the ground, dragging him over to the basketball hoop.

“So you’ll want your feet to be just a little wider than shoulder width apart,” Namjoon explains from behind Seokjin, standing close enough behind him that he can position and maneuver his arms and legs as needed. Seokjin is stiff, and a little red from all the running around they did earlier, but he follows Namjoon’s directions well. “And make sure your knees are bent.”

When Namjoon helps position the ball in Seokjin’s hands, he becomes even stiffer, muscles notably tense as Namjoon presses against his back so he easily visualizes what’s wrong with Seokjin’s hold on the ball. “Make sure there’s a little bit of space between the ball and the palm of your hand, and your left hand should just be to the side of the ball. When you get ready to throw, make sure your left hand isn’t trying to put any spin on the ball.”

It takes several minutes for Namjoon to go through the basic stance with Seokjin, and the first few attempts at throwing the ball look even worse than when Seokjin was throwing improperly. However, as Seokjin gets more comfortable with the movement and has to think less about how his body moves, he eventually makes a shot, and the subsequent shots. 

“I guess we’ll have to cancel practice tomorrow,” Namjoon says as he picks up the last ball Seokjin successfully shoots, spinning it on his finger before throwing it towards the bin. It goes in with ease.

Seokjin blinks. “I hardly think that counts as me winning our bet.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe, but you’re right. The team needs a break.” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling how the sweat makes it stand up straight. “And I clearly do too. I’m sorry to make you worry about me.”

“Namjoon, I’m always going to worry about you,” Seokjin says quickly, and then his eyes go wide. He coughs a few times into his fist. “I mean, we’re friends. I’m happy to worry about you.”

As Seokjin follows behind Namjoon on the way out of the gym, Namjoon can’t help but smile. We’re friends. Maybe Seokjin doesn’t want to tell Namjoon about his crush, but he cares for Namjoon, right?

On the train ride home, Namjoon barely feels like he can sit still, but rather than all the stress on his mind from earlier, he’s thinking about how Seokjin is smiling next to him. We’re friends. The churn of his stomach is still there, but maybe Namjoon is getting used to being nervous around Seokjin; this time, it doesn’t feel nearly as unpleasant.

+++

“Did you want help cleaning up?” Yoongi asks Namjoon, lingering behind as the rest of the boys filter out of the gym for the day.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “You’re offering to help clean?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, I heard that Seokjin wouldn’t be making it to practice today, so I figured you could use an extra set of hands.”

Namjoon hums. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that Jimin has something he has to do until later, and you’re looking for a way to kill time so you guys can go home together?”

Ever since being blindsided by Jimin’s crush on Yoongi, Namjoon has been paying special attention to the dynamics of his individual team members. So far, he’s realized multiple things. The girl that’s been coming to all of their games isn’t actually a diehard basketball fan but dating one of the third years. Two of the first years dated each other in middle school, but broke up mutually and now have a good friendship that’s littered with intimate touches. One of the second year members has given up on dating all together after being broken up with three times within one year. 

Jimin has a crush on Yoongi, which is something Namjoon didn’t get to figure out himself, but with careful observation, he very quickly realized that Jimin’s crush wasn’t unrequited. 

Unfortunately for Jimin, while Namjoon has realized this, Yoongi has not.

Yoongi wrinkles his nose. “Why would I do that? Look, do you want my help or not?” 

Namjoon doesn’t push it too much, simply because Yoongi is right; without Seokjin present, clean-up is a much harder task. Namjoon had been understanding when Seokjin had swung by his classroom in the morning and apologized because he wouldn’t be able to make it to practice, but it didn’t mean Namjoon didn’t miss Seokjin’s presence. At this point, Namjoon is used to spending so much time with Seokjin that he feels a bit lonely without him.

Yoongi is helpful at first, but then Jimin shows up saying that he finished whatever he had going on early, and before Namjoon can even blink, Yoongi has disappeared. Namjoon would be more upset, but he thinks it’s cute, if not a little stupid, how oblivious Yoongi is to his own feelings.

The rest of the clean-up goes smoothly, simply because Namjoon doesn’t have to worry about coordinating with another person. It still takes longer than normal, but when Namjoon is locking up the gym, he notices there’s still quite a few people lingering. He glances towards the buildings with the classrooms, and before he can think about it, he’s heading that way.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says from the doorway of Seokjin’s classroom. He was worried Seokjin might’ve gone home already, but he’s huddled on the floor with a handful of his other classmates, working on a large sign in preparation for the school festival.

  When Seokjin’s head whips around to look at Namjoon, Namjoon’s eyes immediately lock in on the small tuft of hair Seokjin has tied up, keeping his bangs from falling into his eyes. He looks like the world’s prettiest apple, especially with the flush of his cheeks.

“Namjoon-ah? What are you doing here?”

Namjoon glances at Seokjin’s classmates, who have all found something else to do, giving Namjoon plenty of space to approach Seokjin. He looks down at the poster Seokjin is working on, where Seokjin’s handwriting is neatly outlining the words they’re probably going to paint over later.

“How much longer until you’re done for the day?” Namjoon asks. He hopes they’re not planning on painting everything tonight.

Seokjin glances at his classmates, and then at the clock. “Shoot, I didn’t even realize it had gotten so late. Did you need help cleaning up the gym? If you want, you can just leave the key here and I’ll finish cleaning up when I’m done here.”

Namjoon frowns, and looks at Seokjin’s classmates. He recognizes one of them who rides the train to school with Seokjin. “Are you guys almost done for the day?”

The classmate giggles, covering their mouth with their hand. “Oh, probably another thirty minutes or so.”

Namjoon nods, and looks back at Seokjin. “Okay, I’ll wait for you by the gates then.”

Seokjin blinks. “Namjoon, you don’t need to wait for me.” His cheeks are bright red now. Is he embarrassed that he has to be spotted talking to someone as lame as Namjoon?

Namjoon shakes his head. “Of course I’ll wait for you, hyung.” He bites his lip, considering something. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

And maybe it’s a bit rude for Namjoon to ask, because it’s not like Seokjin can say no, but he hasn’t talked to Seokjin all day, and waiting thirty minutes won’t be that bad. He could probably work on some school work while he waits, anyway.

Seokjin swallow. “I’ll try to be fast then.”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says. “I’m happy to wait for you, hyung.”

On the way out of Seokjin’s classroom, Namjoon can hear an explosion of giggling, and the sound of someone groaning.

+++

The summer heat becomes even crueler towards the end of summer, and it’s the heat that convinced Namjoon to be kind and end their Saturday practice early.

It feels a bit odd, walking home with Seokjin during the day time. It’s light outside on their way to school, but Seokjin always rides the train with his friends, so Namjoon only catches glimpses of him on the train.

“You know what sounds so good right now?” Seokjin asks with a groan, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with the towel he’s carrying around. “Ice cream. I would kill for some ice cream right now.”

Namjoon doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth when it’s hot outside, but he likes the smile Seokjin is wearing right now, just thinking about ice cream. “Shall we go right now, then? I think there’s a place not too far from the train station.”

Seokjin freezes, and almost trips over his own feet. “Right now?”

“Oh, I guess it’s a bit too hot outside today,” Namjoon says, remembering that they cancelled practice because it was too hot outside. The ice cream might be nice for a moment, but he’s worried it’ll melt too quickly. “What about tomorrow? I think it’s supposed to be a little bit cooler.”

Seokjin stares at Namjoon, like he’s speaking a foreign language. Namjoon doesn’t get what Seokjin wants him to clarify, not until Seokjin finally asks slowly, “But we don’t have club practice tomorrow?”

They never have club practice on Sundays, so Namjoon is a bit confused on why Seokjin would think Namjoon wouldn’t be aware that there’s no practice tomorrow. “Does tomorrow not work? Do you have a part time job or something?” Namjoon doesn’t ask if there’s someone else Seokjin plans on spending tomorrow with, because Seokjin still hasn’t told Namjoon anything about his crush, so he clearly doesn’t want to talk to Namjoon about it. Part of Namjoon hopes Seokjin has gotten over his crush, because it’s not like there’s someone out there good enough for Seokjin anyway. And that way, Namjoon doesn’t have to compete with anyone for Seokjin’s time.

“Tomorrow works,” Seokjin says, the heat of the day getting to his face, which is bright red. “What time were you thinking?”

They end up planning the majority of the details via text, Namjoon claiming that it’ll be easier for him to think once he’s at home and out of the heat. In reality, the first thing he does when he gets home is look up what the best ice cream places in the area are.

They decide on noon, which Namjoon thinks will give him a reasonable amount of time to sleep in and get ready without having to rush. However, the clock strikes eleven before Namjoon can even realize it, his mom coming upstairs to check on him and finding him surrounded in a pile of discarded clothes.

She’s clearly biting back a smile when she asks, “Are you trying on all your clothes so you can get rid of the ones that don’t fit anymore?”

Namjoon shakes his head, and throws his head back in defeat. “I don’t have anything to wear.” He doesn’t leave the house that much outside of school and basketball practice, so the amount of clothes he has that aren’t his school uniform or athletic wear is limited.

Namjoon’s mom looks down at the large pile of clothes skeptically. “What has you so worried about your outfit? Do you have a date or something?” She wiggles her eyebrows, clearly teasing.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t have time for that.” He has to focus on the basketball team, after all. Even then, who would he be going on a date with? He’s certainly never had someone like him enough to be willing to date him. “I’m just worried, because Seokjin-hyung looks like he would have good fashion, and I don’t want to look bad next to him, you know?”

Namjoon’s mom starts coughing. “You’re hanging out with Seokjin today?”

Namjoon nods. “We’re going out for ice cream.” He picks up a shirt out of his discard pile and examines it. “Do you think Seokjin-hyung will hate me if I just wear a T-shirt and jeans?”

“I don’t think Seokjin could hate you,” Namjoon’s mother says, giggling. She probably knows that Namjoon is going to look silly next to Seokjin, regardless of what he wears. “Unless you show up late. What time were you guys planning on meeting up?”

Namjoon startles into action when he realizes what time it is, throwing on his jeans and barely having his shirt slipped over his head before he’s stumbling out the door. On the train ride over, he slaps a black baseball cap over his head to hide what a disaster his hair is. 

Seokjin is already waiting in front of the ice cream shop when Namjoon arrives. He’s also wearing a black baseball cap, but even with his face partially hidden by the shadow of his cap, he’s still easy to spot. His white T-shirt is tucked just enough that there’s just a hint of the shape of his waist, and then Namjoon gets distracted by the holes in Seokjin’s jeans, revealing slivers of his thighs.

“Oh,” is the first thing Seokjin says when he spots Namjoon, and the hat must not be doing enough to keep the sun out of his face, cheeks already tinted pink.

Namjoon frowns. “Do I look silly?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head fervently. “No, you look good!” His eyes widen even more, and he slaps his hands to his cheeks. “I mean, we’re wearing the same thing, so it’s not like I can judge you.”

“Oh.” Namjoon looks down at his own outfit, and while his jeans don’t have rips and holes and aren’t as cool as Seokjin’s, his clothes practically reflect Seokjin’s, down to the hat. His stomach churns, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, I spent a while trying to figure out what to wear to look as cool as you, so I guess I did a good job.”

Seokjin squeaks. Maybe he doesn’t like matching with Namjoon. “You spent a while trying to figure out what to wear?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I guess.” He’s a little embarrassed, getting caught in the act, but Seokjin is probably used to it. Everyone is a little nervous around Seokjin, right? Namjoon is sure that everyone spends a little extra time wondering how to stand on Seokjin’s level.

“Oh,” Seokjin says, a little quieter. He’s looking down at his hands with a small smile. “Me too.”

Namjoon doubts that. Why would Seokjin have to worry about what to wear when he’ll look good regardless? He feels a bit shy, realizing that Seokjin is probably trying to reassure him about the outfit panic he had this morning - not that Seokjin will ever know how much Namjoon struggled, because that would be too embarrassing to admit to.

“Shall we go inside?” Namjoon says, gesturing to the ice cream shop, happy to change the subject. “The reviews on the internet said it was really good.”

They wait in line for not too long, and Namjoon finds out that Seokjin doesn’t like strawberry-flavored things. He also finds out that Seokjin doesn’t like mint-chocolate, which Namjoon passionately agrees with, and they both wrinkle their nose at the people in front of them who both walk away with a scoop of the foul-tasting green ice cream.

“We could sit here, or we could walk around,” Seokjin offers, an ice cream cone in one hand, gesturing with the other. Because it’s a weekend, there’s a lot of other kids their age hanging around, and Namjoon can’t help notice how they’re all staring at Seokjin. It makes sense, he supposes, for them to stare at Seokjin. He’s practically glowing from how handsome he is, especially when he’s dressed in his own clothing rather than his school uniform.

Namjoon glances at the people staring at Seokjin, and then back at Seokjin. Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice, eyes focused on Namjoon. He must be too used to people staring at him to even notice. Still, Namjoon is worried someone will interrupt them if they stay here.

“There’s a park nearby,” Namjoon suggests, opening the shop door for Seokjin. “Why don’t we take a walk around there?”

The sun seems to hit Seokjin’s cheeks before he even steps outside, cheeks bright red as he ducks his head before stepping through the door Namjoon holds open for him. Hopefully, the ice cream will be enough to cool him down.

The park is crowded because it’s the weekend, but Namjoon hardly notices the crowd, focused on Seokjin as he talks about the video game he bought the other day. Namjoon doesn’t play video games, or at least not on the level Seokjin does, but he’s still captivated by Seokjin’s words and the smile he wears as he excitedly describes the boss fight he beat on his first try.

Maybe it’s Seokjin’s smile, maybe it’s the pretty park scenery, maybe it’s the angle of the light, but Namjoon finds himself pulling out his phone and taking a photo of Seokjin before he can think about it.

Seokjin’s so wrapped up in his story that he doesn’t realize what’s happening until the click of the shutter goes off, and the wide-eye gaze he shoots Namjoon has Namjoon taking another picture, laughing at how cute Seokjin looks when he’s surprised.

“Oh,” Seokjin says softly, realizing what Namjoon was doing. “You know, if you’re going to take pictures,” he bites his lip before continuing, “I’d rather we take a picture together.”

Namjoon wrinkles his nose. “It won’t look as good if I’m in it.” He turns his phone screen so it’s facing Seokjin, showing him the pictures he took. “You look good, hyung.”

The pictures Namjoon and Seokjin take together must not have as good of lighting, because Seokjin’s face is all red and flushed in them.

They walk around for a while, and Namjoon notices that Seokjin keeps glancing down at his hand. At first, Namjoon assumes it’s because they keep accidentally bumping into each other and Seokjin is annoyed. But after a few times of apologizing and carefully walking, Namjoon decides it’s definitely Seokjin making them bump into each other, and it’s not like Seokjin would be mad at Namjoon for the bumping considering it’s clearly Seokjin’s fault. Namjoon certainly doesn’t want to scold Seokjin for it, not bothered at all by the occasional contact. Maybe his hand is just dirty, even though he thought he did a good job not spilling any ice cream.

Lost in his thoughts, it’s not that a surprise that Namjoon ends up tripping (it’s really never a surprise, almost an expectation at this point). As he feels the ground slip from underneath him, he prepares for the usual embarrassment of hitting the ground and probably making a mess of himself.

But before he can hit the ground, there’s a sharp tug to his arm, and he’s being pulled up by his hand. When he finishes fixing the position of his feet to prevent him from tipping over, Namjoon looks up to see Seokjin holding onto his hand.

“Thanks,” Namjoon says with a sheepish smile. Seokjin’s face is all red, and Namjoon can’t blame him, because how embarrassing it is to be hanging out with someone who trips over their own feet?

“Of course,” Seokjin says, not looking at Namjoon. His gaze focuses straight ahead, and then he keeps walking, pulling Namjoon alongside him. His hand is a little sweaty, but soft, and Namjoon doesn't even mind the sweat, because it probably covers up how sweaty Namjoon’s hand is.

“So you don’t fall again,” Seokjin says, pulling Namjoon’s gaze up so that he can look at Seokjin’s face. “It would be a shame if you were injured during practice tomorrow.” His grip tightens on Namjoon’s hand, as if he’s afraid he’ll manage to fall even as they speak.

“That would be a shame,” Namjoon admits, and explains the plans he has for practice on Monday. Seokjin listens quietly, occasionally chiming in with feedback or an idea. It feels effortless, the way their conversation flows, and Namjoon even forgets about his sweaty hand that’s holding onto Seokjin’s.

He glances down at their hands, and smiles to himself. It almost reminds him of when he was a kid, clumsy and constantly hurting himself, and his mom’s death grip on his hand to stop him from falling. Except Seokjin doesn’t feel nearly as stressed as Namjoon’s mom did back then, and Namjoon doesn’t feel restricted at all, finding a pleasant peace in Seokjin’s hold on him. Unlike when Namjoon was a kid, he doesn’t mind it, not at all.

They walk the entirety of the park, and then get distracted talking once they find a seat on a bench. It’s only the setting sun that reminds Namjoon that they probably need to head out, and even then, he waits until Seokjin says something, prompted by a text from his mother.

“Wait, hyung, let me pay you back for earlier,” Namjoon says as they get on the train. “How much do I owe you?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I’m the one who suggested it, I’m the one who should pay.”

“But you’re always working so hard for the team!” Namjoon insists. “You shouldn’t have to pay for me.”

“It’s fine, Namjoon-ah.” He smiles cheekily. “It’s my allowance from my mom, anyway.”

Namjoon doesn’t point out that if he were to pay, it would also just be his allowance from his mother. “Fine,” he says with a huff, knowing that Seokjin is too good at arguing to try and win this argument. “But I’ll pay next time.”

“Next time?” Seokjin asks, almost a gasp.

Namjoon hadn’t really thought about it when he said it, but he did have a good day hanging out with Seokjin. He doesn’t do many outings like this, and he’s surprised how much fun he had. It was fun getting to talk to Seokjin without having to worry about leading practice. “Yeah, next time. Just let me know when you’re free, hyung. It’ll be my treat.”

Namjoon is barely home when he’s looking at his schedule, wondering when the next time he can see Seokjin on a day off is.

+++

In the prior year, the team hadn’t made it far enough in the championship tournament to have to travel so far. So it’s Namjoon's first time boarding the bus with all of his team, who are much louder about their excitement.

“I didn’t even know we had the budget for this!” Hoseok shouts, flopping across a row of seats without any care of his teammates trying to board in a timely manner. He doesn’t even budge when Jimin and Taehyung take their seats on top of him.

“We didn’t,” Namjoon says, apologizing to the bus driver for the noise before gesturing to Seokjin. “You can thank Seokjin-hyung for this. The original plan was to take public transportation.”

Seokjin is bashful as always, shaking his head and insisting he didn’t do much. As if Namjoon hasn’t watched him pour over the budgeting books to see how he could afford it, as if Namjoon didn’t catch Seokjin sweet-talking the teacher to see if they could get a bigger budget since they’ve been winning so much.

The boys are loud the entirety of the bus ride, and while Seokjin joins the chaos for the first hour, he plugs in his earbuds and leans against the window after then. Namjoon watches as Seokjin’s gaze out the window slowly becomes unfocused, and watches the moment his eyes flutter shut. It’s impressive how peaceful Seokjin looks while sleeping on a bus full of chanting boys, and it feels almost infectious, the lull of sleep hitting Namjoon as well.

Namjoon wakes up to giggling and the click of a camera shutter. He opens his eyes, glaring at his giggling comrades who run off with a screech when they realize he’s awake. Only Jimin remains, still giggling, phone still held in his hands. He takes one last picture.

“I’m just glad our team manager is so supportive of our captain,” Jimin says, zooming in on his screen before turning his phone around to show Namjoon. “See?”

Namjoon blinks at Jimin’s phone screen. It’s not the first time someone has shown him a picture of himself sleeping, and like usual, his mouth is drooped open with a shiny line of drool down his chin. The teasing grin that Jimin is wearing isn’t out of the ordinary, but it’s a little different than the smile he wears when he’s making fun of how Namjoon looks when he’s sleeping.

“Oh,” Namjoon says when it finally clicks that he’s not resting his head against the window like normal. It’s not the normal, hard, cold pillow that Namjoon is used to. It can’t be the window, because when Namjoon looks at the picture Jimin took, Seokjin is the one sleeping against the window. Which means Namjoon is sleeping against…

“Oh!” This time, Namjoon shoots up, standing up so quickly that he almost feels dizzy, though no amount of dizziness could cover up the horror of staring at his drool stain on the shoulder of Seokjin’s jacket. “Oh no, hyung, I’m so sorry.”

Seokjin isn’t really awake to catch Namjoon’s apology, but the velocity of Namjoon’s voice is enough to have Seokjin’s eyes fluttering open, a small pout forming on his lips as the light invades his sight. He folds in on himself, grabbing his hood and pulling it over his head, before closing his eyes again.

“Hyung,” Namjoon calls out, shaking Seokjin’s shoulder lightly. He carefully avoids the drool stain. “Hyung, we’ve arrived.” Seokjin groans, and Namjoon has to bite his lip to avoid laughing. Cute. “Hyung, you’ll get mad at me if I let you sleep through the game.”

This time, Seokjin groans louder. “Namjoon-ah, I’m never mad at you.”

“Not even when I tell you that I drooled on your jacket?” Namjoon asks, wincing when Seokjin finally properly opens his eyes to turn and inspect his shoulder. To Seokjin’s credit, he schools his face pretty quickly, only a brief reaction of a nose wrinkle, but it's enough time for Namjoon to panic and rip off his own jacket, throwing it at Seokjin with haste.

“Here, you can wear mine!” Namjoon says, bowing down and offering the jacket to Seokjin.

Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s fine, I can just go without a jacket,” he says, grabbing his hoodie by the bottom and preparing to take it off - and there’s a moment of hesitation Namjoon doesn’t miss. Maybe Seokjin is worried about getting cold, which is certainly what Namjoon is thinking about, knowing how warm Seokjin likes to be. It must be why Namjoon feels eager to have Seokjin wear his jacket, anticipating how quickly Seokjin will become cold.

But maybe he doesn’t need to worry about Seokjin being cold, considering how red his face already is by the time he pulls his sweater off.

“Oh,” Namjoon says, staring at his old jersey. “You’re wearing it already.”

It’s become tradition for Seokjin to wear Namjoon’s jersey, encouraged loudly by the team. They insist it’s the team’s lucky charm, and while Namjoon likes to protest that they’re winning because of the skill of the team, he does enjoy seeing Seokjin on the sidelines during the game wearing his jersey.

Seokjin's hands cover his bare arms. Maybe he is cold after all. “I figured it would be easier to wear it here instead of having to change into it later.” He folds his jacket neatly before tucking it into his bag. “Do you think it’ll look weird if I walk around like this before the game even starts? You guys aren’t even in your uniforms yet.”

“No, you look good, hyung,” Namjoon says, looking Seokjin up and down. He certainly never looked as good wearing the jersey, that’s for sure. “If people stare, it’s because they’re jealous of how good you look.”

“Do you think so?” Seokjin asks, looking down at the uniform. It makes it even easier to see how the tips of his ears are red. Namjoon smiles as he rolls his eyes; he’s not sure how someone as pretty as Seokjin got to be so shy.

In the end, Seokjin ends up wearing Namjoon’s jacket as well, but he leaves it unzipped so that the jersey is visible as well. When they walk through the competitor’s school to get to the gym, several people end up staring at Seokjin, and Namjoon has to bite back the urge to tell them to stop looking. He knows it’s not their fault they don’t see someone as handsome as Seokjin every day, but it doesn’t stop Namjoon from wrapping an arm around Seokjin’s shoulders, pulling him close enough so that Seokjin can hide his face against Namjoon’s shoulder. 

Seokjin does take the jacket off during the game, putting Namjoon’s old jersey completely on display. When they win the game, someone pulls them aside for photos, and they get a picture of Seokjin and Namjoon from behind with their matching jersey numbers.

On the bus ride home, Seokjin puts Namjoon’s jacket back on, despite the fact that Namjoon pointedly reminds him his own jacket is probably dry by now.

“It’s still dirty,” Seokjin says with a huff, though he’s clearly biting back a smile. “And your jacket is softer.” To prove his point, he pulls at the collar of the jacket until he can rub his cheek against the fabric. Out of guilt for not returning Namjoon’s jacket, Seokjin doesn’t even look at Namjoon when he offers, “You can wear mine, if you want.”

Seokjin’s jacket feels a lot cozier than Namjoon’s, and it certainly smells better, but after a long game, Namjoon doesn’t have it in him to complain. He wonders if he looks silly wearing it, especially because Seokjin keeps glancing over at him and smiling.

When the bus arrives at the hotel for the night, the basketball team practically runs to the dining area that they basically completely fill up. The hotel workers don’t look thrilled to see the large crowd of teenage boys, but they remain polite, though Namjoon can hear their sighs of relief when they’re able to come up to Namjoon and tell him that the dining area is closing for the night.

“You have the list of everyone’s room assignments, right?” Namjoon asks Seokjin as he pulls out the pile of room cards he received earlier. He had thought about telling the boys about the room arrangements earlier, but he figured it would give them too much time to scheme and trade spots. For safety reasons, Namjoon figured it would be best if he could easily account for where each boy was at all times, and trading rooms would make that trickier.

Seokjin hums, pulling out his phone. He opens his notes app, and bites his lip. “I tried to spread out the third years so that there’s at least one accountable person in each one.” He starts calling out names, snagging the key card from Namjoon as the groups come forward and handing it to them. Nobody looks particularly annoyed by their assignment, heading off to their rooms and already bickering about who has to share a bed with who.

When everyone is sent off, Namjoon realizes that he’s still holding one more keycard in his hand. He turns to Seokjin. “Wait, who does this belong to?”

Seokjin stares intently at his phone. “Oh. Uh. That’s our key.”

Namjoon blinks down at the keycard in his hand. “Our key?”

Seokjin shrugs, still staring at his phone. After a long day, there’s a nice flush to his face. “The team isn’t divisible by four. And I can’t sleep very well when the boys are so loud.” Namjoon doesn’t point out how well Seokjin slept on the bus. “And I figured since you’re the captain, it’s important that you get a good rest.”

Namjoon doesn’t mention that all he has planned for tomorrow is taking a nap on the bus ride home. He lets Seokjin lead them to their room, wincing when they pass by the rooms that clearly belong to their teammates, loud and bustling and certain to get a noise complaint.

“Do you think we should tell them to be quiet?” Namjoon asks.

Seokjin huffs. “The hotel can tell them to be quiet. My working hours are over for the day.”

Seokjin has told Namjoon about how fast he gets ready for bed, but it’s Namjoon’s first time being able to see it with his own eyes. He swears he’s barely put down his bag by the time Seokjin is finished brushing his teeth, hair pulled out of the way so he can apply moisturizer.

Namjoon pulls out his own tooth brush and starts brushing his teeth next to Seokjin. With his free hand, he pokes Seokjin’s freshly moisturized cheek, a gurgly laugh escaping his mouth when Seokjin squeaks.

“Aren’t you too young to need that?” Namjoon has to repeat himself after spitting out the remains of his toothpaste so that Seokjin can understand him.

“Dealing with you boys has aged me significantly,” Seokjin jokes. He points to the faint dark circles underneath his eyes. “If I don’t take care of my skin, I’ll be covered in wrinkles by the time I graduate.”

Namjoon freezes. Seokjin’s graduation. Something that Namjoon shouldn’t really be worried about, not when it’s so far away. Not when Seokjin has already told Namjoon in excitement all the details about the sports medicine program he plans on enrolling in. Not when from the moment Namjoon met Seokjin, he knew he was going to graduate this year.

Namjoon stares at Seokjin through the mirror. They’re the same height now, because even while Seokjin has still been growing, Namjoon has been growing faster. Seokjin’s shoulders are wide, and despite Namjoon’s best attempts at working out, he can never seem to catch up. When Seokijn catches Namjoon’s gaze in the mirror, he offers a cheeky smile that makes Namjoon’s chest hurt.

He likes standing next to Seokjin. He’s not ready for that to change.

“You act like you don’t have any wrinkles now,” Namjoon grumbles, poking near the corner of Seokjin’s eyes, right where the creases form when he smiles. “Maybe you’re not using enough lotion.” He grabs Seokjin’s tub of moisturizer and dips his hand into it before slapping a glob onto Seokjin’s cheek. “That’s better.”

Seokjin groans, the creases next to his eyes not disappearing. “I just finished rubbing it all in though.”

“Like it’s that difficult,” Namjoon says, smearing the moisturizer across the rest of Seokjin’s cheek. It is a little difficult, especially considering Seokjin’s face is already properly coated in lotion. He brings up his other hand, swiping his fingers across Seokjin’s cheek so that both hands can work to rub in the rest of the moisturizer.

Seokjin has closed his eyes, relaxing against Namjoon’s touch. Namjoon does his best to massage the lotion into Seokjin’s skin, noting how soft and warm Seokjin’s face is. Even after the majority of the lotion has blended in, Namjoon continues to massage Seokjin’s face, letting his fingers trace Seokjin’s delicate features. As his fingers sweep past the curves and lines of Seokijn’s face, Namjoon wonders if this is how Michelangelo felt, staring at the results of his art.

“Did you get all the wrinkles?” Seokjin whispers when Namjoon’s hands have been still for too long.

Namjoon blinks. Seokjin’s face is all red, and he hopes it’s not because he wasn’t gentle enough. Though he also enjoys the light glow it gives Seokjin’s face.

“I’m afraid it’s a lost cause,” Namjoon says, dropping his hands down his sides. The remnants of Seokjin’s warmth lingers in his hands. Or maybe it's just the remaining moisturizer. “Are you ready for bed, hyung?”

Seokjin takes a little bit longer in the bathroom, so Namjoon tucks himself into bed first. He’s shared beds with the boys before, and he counts himself lucky to be sharing the bed with Seokjin, who sleeps more peacefully than anyone Namjoon has seen before. It’ll be much better than the time he shared the bed with Taehyung and he woke up being crushed.

Namjoon has already turned off his light when he feels the bed dip next to him, but he can’t help but look over at Seokjin. In the dim lights, he can barely make out his facial expression, but it’s enough light that he can see the alpaca plushie squished in between Seokjin’s arms.

Seokjin catches Namjoon staring, and hugs the plushie tighter to his chest. “Don’t judge me.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’m not hyung, I promise.” He realizes the plushie Seokjin is holding matches the cartoon print on his pajamas. “It’s cute. Do you always sleep with a plushie?”

Seokjin nods, tucking his chin against the plushie. “I mean, I can sleep without it, but I sleep best when I have something to hold onto.” Seokjin crawls underneath the blankets, laying on his side so he can face Namjoon. They’re lying down close enough to each other that Namjoon can see the faint blush to Seokjin’s cheeks. He wants to reassure Seokjin that it’s not embarrassing to sleep with a plushie.

“If you want, you should pull out your plushie on the bus ride home tomorrow. I’m sure none of the boys are going to judge you.” Namjoon doesn’t promise that they won’t make fun of Seokjin, but he knows that if they do tease Seokjin about it, it won’t be malicious. “I want you to be able to get good sleep.”

“Maybe,” Seokjin says, clearly not convinced.

Namjoon shrugs. “Is it just that you need to hold onto something to sleep well? You could just hold onto my arm or something, if you don’t want to have your plushie out. Do you think that would work?”

Seokjin is still hesitant when he responds. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, if you get tired of your plushie overnight, you can always try it out. I don’t mind.”

Seokjin swallows. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When Namjoon wakes up in the morning, he realizes that he’s holding something in his arms. For a moment, he’s scared that he’s stolen Seokjin’s plushie from him, and prevented him from sleeping well. But then he remembers Seokjin’s plushie isn’t that big, and even if Seokjin had been sleeping on the plushie all night, it wouldn’t feel as warm as whatever Namjoon is holding onto.

Namjoon looks down at his arms. Seokjin’s plushie is there. However, Seokjin is too.

Seokjin’s eyes are already open when Namjoon looks down, and Namjoon belatedly realizes his alarm is going off in the background. His cheeks are red, eyes puffy with sleep, and Namjoon’s arms wrap around Seokijn tighter.

“I guess I also sleep better holding onto something,” Namjoon says. He only lets go of Seokjin to snooze his phone alarm, and he immediately misses the warmth. Maybe he should start trying to sleep with a plushie. He can’t remember the last time he slept so well. 

He can’t remember the last time he slept so well, but on the bus ride home when Seokjin asks quietly to borrow Namjoon’s arm to help him sleep, Namjoon finds himself sleeping just as well.

+++

They don’t win their next game.

Namjoon wishes he had something to blame it on. He could say it was because they weren’t on their home court. That the referee was unfair. Someone came and sabotaged their team before the game even started. The tickle in his throat is actually because he’s coming down sick, and how is he supposed to win if he’s sick?

But the reality is that Namjoon went into the game feeling at his best, and the court felt similar to the one at home. The referee had actually been really kind, and Namjoon didn’t even feel like he had to argue with his calls even once. There was no evidence of foul play, and even if there was, what would someone sabotage? His shoes?

The reality is that they lost even when they were playing at their best, and it’s the kind of loss that Namjoon can’t ignore the pain of, the kind of loss that has him locking himself in the bathroom so he can cry without anyone seeing him.

He knows he should be outside with the team and consoling them. It’s his job as team captain to keep a levelhead, after all. But everyone on the team had looked at him with such sad eyes, such apologetic eyes, and Namjoon couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want them to feel sorry, and he certainly didn’t want them to feel sorry for him.

Namjoon feels stupid as he cries, sniffling as he uses his jacket sleeves to wipe away his tears. Except he looks at the jacket, soaked with tears, and cries a little harder, because it’s not even his jacket. It’s Seokjin’s jacket, the jacket that Namjoon somehow never ended up returning to Seokjin.

He takes the jacket off, debating between throwing it as hard as he can or never letting go of it. He settles for balling the jacket up tightly, squished to his chest as he slides to the ground and hugs his knees close to him. He buries his face in between his knees, the fabric of the jacket tickling his nose. It doesn’t smell like Seokjin anymore, and Namjoon desperately wishes that it did.

He almost wishes that Seokjin was here next to him, where Namjoon likes Seokjin best. But then he remembers it was Seokjin he was running away from the most when he fled to the bathroom.

Namjoon hadn’t made eye contact with any of the seniors when he ran out of the locker room, unable to stand the stifling silence that followed the loss of their game. Back when he had accepted the position as captain despite only being a second-year, he had worried about it being disrespectful to his seniors. No one had said anything, but Namjoon had silently promised to be the best captain anyone could be. And until today, he thought he had made good on that promise.

Now Namjoon just feels like a dirty, dirty, dirty liar. 

Namjoon appreciates that the knock on the door waits for his sobbing to subside. He doesn’t call out to ask who it is, doesn’t do anything besides wipe the tears and snot off his face before standing up to unlock the door.

The handle clicks open a moment later, and Seokjin quietly sneaks in before locking the door behind him.

“How mad are they?” Namjoon asks, eyes glued to the floor. He knew Seokjin would be the one to check on him, knew Seokjin wouldn’t just let him wallow in his misery. Knew that Seokjin would come stare at him with sad, sympathetic eyes, a gaze that Namjoon is undeserving of.

Seokjin takes a seat on the floor next to Namjoon. He doesn’t comment on how dirty the ground is, even though Namjoon knows he must be thinking it. Their shoulders bump together when Seokjin settles, and Namjoon selfishly leans into the touch.

“Mad? About losing?”

“Mad at me.”

Namjoon’s fingers fidget with his shoe laces, movement becoming more and more aggressive the longer they sit in silence. How long is it going to take Seokjin to think of a kind way to tell Namjoon how disappointed his team is with him?

He only stops fidgeting when Seokjin grabs both of his hands in between his own, grip tight and reassuring.

“Namjoon, will you look at me?”

Namjoon doesn’t want to, but Seokjin’s voice is so soft and gentle that it's impossible to not listen. He lifts his head, staring at the sad, sympathetic eyes that he was afraid of seeing. But there’s a warmth in the depth of Seokjin’s gaze that Namjoon’s wasn’t expecting, highlighted by the flush to his cheeks.

“Namjoon, did I ever tell you why I wanted to join the basketball club?”

Namjoon blinks at the unexpected question. His first real conversation with Seokjin flashes before his eyes. “Because you watched a game and you said we made it look fun?”

Seokjin hums, and the bathroom lighting makes his entire face look pink. “It did look fun. But it was because you were making it look fun.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen a lot of sports played over the years, and I’ve seen our basketball team play several games,” Seokjin says, squeezing Namjoon’s hands. “But none of those teams have compared to what I’ve seen from the basketball team this year, with you leading it. The way you interact with the team, the way you encourage them, the way you effortlessly display your skills. It’s really amazing and fun to watch, you know?”

Namjoon tries to imagine Seokjin sitting in the crowd of a basketball game, watching Namjoon, judging his every move. Seokjin, who has never joined a sports team, who doesn’t get very competitive, who likes to stay home and play video games. It makes sense that he can’t see the fun in watching a basketball game, but here he is, not only telling Namjoon it looked like fun, but it looked like enough fun for him to want to join? Because of Namjoon?

“It’s not effortlessly,” is all Namjoon can manage to respond. “I work really hard to be as good as I am, you know?”

“I know. You’ve worked really hard, and so have the rest of the boys.” Seokjin briefly laces their fingers together, but his grip is loose enough that their hands slide apart a moment later. Namoon misses the warmth. “You’re a good captain, Namjoon-ah. Maybe the best captain these boys will ever have. And they know it.”

Namjoon bites his lip. “But aren’t they upset with me?” Shouldn’t they be upset, because Namjoon wasn’t a good enough captain to lead them to the championship game?

“If anything, they’re upset because they think they let you down.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “They didn’t! Everyone did amazing, really.”

Seokjin smiles. “I think you should go tell them that, then. I think it would mean a lot from them to hear from their beloved captain that they did a good job.” He stands up, and offers a hand to Namjoon. Namjoon lets himself be pulled up.

“I’m sorry we didn’t win, hyung. I really wanted to take you to finals.”

“And when you guys go next year, I’ll definitely be there,” Seokjin says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the whole world.

Namjoon sniffles. “Yeah? You’ll be there?”

“If you want me to be? Of course. I’ll be there, forever.”

Namjoon’s not sure if he starts crying again first, or if Seokjin’s arms were already open. But the next thing he knows is he’s tightly pressed up against Seokjin, face buried into Seokjin’s jacket as another wave of tears overcomes him. At least he doesn’t need to be worried about ruining Seokijn’s jacket; it’s Namjoon’s jacket he’s wearing right now, after all.

“This is so embarrassing,” Namjoon grumbles against the fabric.

Seokjin hums. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re so cool, hyung. It’s embarrassing that I’m crying in front of you. I want you to still think I’m cool.”

Seokjin laughs, and there’s no missing the smile in his voice.

“You’re really cool, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin promises, squeezing his arms around Namjoon. “A few tears isn’t going to change that.”

+++

The rest of the school year passes quickly, and practice becomes even more intense as they prepare for next year’s championship.

The third years have taken a step back from practice, focused on their final exams. Some of them have stopped showing up for practice completely, but some of them like Yoongi still pop in when they can, sharing their expertise with the rest of the team. 

And then there’s Seokjin.

Seokjin, who manages to show up to every practice, even if he can’t stay for the entire duration. Seokjin, who is tutoring half the boys on the team despite having his own exams to prepare for. Seokjin, who can’t stay to help clean up anymore but is always sitting outside the gym, glued to a textbook, when Namjoon locks up for the night.

They fall into a routine, which makes it all the more difficult when it finally has to break.

“Hyung, you don’t have to stay and clean,” Namjoon says as the rest of the team shuffles out after practice, Seokjin lingering behind. It feels almost nostalgic, watching Seokjin put away equipment effortlessly. “Your exams start next week, right? I’m sure you need to study.”

“It’s fine,” Seokjin says quietly, followed by a deep sigh. He turns his back to Namjoon, continuing with cleanup. But he’s not chattering like he normally does, not even the pleasant humming that Namjoon hasn’t pointed out in case it makes Seokjin stop.

It’s not fine, not fine for Namjoon, and he finds himself reaching out to grab Seokjin’s shoulder. Except when he spins Seokjin around, the question on his tongue dies, long forgotten over the clench of Namjoon’s heart when he realizes how wet Seokjin’s eyes are.

“Oh.” The hand on Seokjin’s shoulder clenches. If Namjoon squeezes hard enough, can he squeeze the tears away? “Seokjin-hyung,” Namjoon says lamely, focused on the tears that threaten to leak out of Seokjin’s glassy eyes. His free hand just barely reaches Seokjin’s face to swipe away the first tear to fall. “Oh hyung, please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Seokjin lies, sniffling just as the second tear makes its descent. “Why would I be crying? That’s silly.”

Namjoon bites his lip, hard, trying to focus on anything besides how hot his eyes feel. He told himself he wouldn’t cry in front of Seokjin again, but it’s hard, watching the way the tears stain Seokjin’s blotchy cheeks. There’s an ocean of feelings in the tears welling up in Seokjin’s eyes, and the waves threaten to crash down on Namjoon.

“I’ll miss you a lot, hyung.” Namjoon doesn’t have the courage to say it aloud - it’s Seokjin’s last day with the basketball club, graduation lurking over their shoulder as soon as exams end. Namjoon doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to admit to it, because he knows he’ll be the one crying then. “It’ll be hard without you here.”

“You did just fine without me,” Seokjin says. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Namjoon knows he’ll survive. Over the last couple of months, Seokjin and he have been reviewing the budgeting books, discussing all the things that Seokjin has been taking care of. Even if neither of them have wanted to talk about it, they’re prepared for Seokjin to leave Namjoon. 

“It won’t be the same,” Namjoon says quietly. Seokjin’s tears have subsided, but Namjoon keeps his hand on Seokjin’s face, just in case.

Seokjin’s smile is small but sweet. “Sometimes, things have to change, Namjoon-ah. It’s not always a bad thing.”

Namjoon’s not convinced, not when Seokjin says it, not when they’re leaving the gym together for the last time, not during the entire week of final exams when Namjoon wishes he was at basketball practice with Seokjin instead of last minute cramming.

Namjoon doesn’t even have the chance to ride the train home with Seokjin, the third-year students too busy studying together. Seokjin could study at home and pass his tests easily, but he lingers at the school to help out his classmates. Namjoon knows Seokjin’s leading some of the study sessions, yet he greedily wants to tell Seokjin to leave them behind.

The end of exams comes too quickly. When Namjoon arrives at school, it’s already loud and bustling, the kind of energy that only comes out of the students after a full week of sitting down in exams all week. The exam tension has transitioned to excitement for the end of the school year, and Namjoon feels like a shadow of himself as he walks through his laughing classmates.

Namjoon makes his way towards the hallway where the third-years tend to linger, and the noise is even more chaotic. There’s several of the senior boys with their uniform jackets open, and at first Namjoon thinks it’s because of the heat, but then he notices that they’re all missing the second button on their jacket.

Namjoon doesn’t find Seokjin, but he spots Yoongi, who is also missing his button.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asks, glancing down at Yoongi’s uniform. Besides the button, it’s completely intact.

Yoongi wrinkles his nose. “It’s some sort of Japanese high school tradition, I guess. Someone brought it up last week during finals, and now everyone is doing it.”

Namjoon frowns. “A tradition to ruin your uniform?”

“To give someone your second button. It’s supposed to be symbolic, I guess. Close to your heart, and what not. The first button is for yourself, and the second button is for someone you care about. Like giving away a piece of your heart.”

“You sure do know a lot.”

Yoongi shrugs. “My cousin really likes shoujo manga, so she was explaining it to me. I think it used to have a bit of a deeper meaning, but now it’s just a fun way for the graduating boys to confess to someone.”

Namjoon’s eyes lock in on Yoongi’s missing button. “Who did you give yours to?”

When Namjoon glances back up at Yoongi, his cheeks are bright red.

“You know, you're not my captain anymore. It’s not like I have to tell you these things.”

Namjoon grins. “Was it Jimin?”

Yoongi scowls, but his cheeks are still flushed. “If you’re looking for Seokjin, I think he’s talking with the teachers in their lounge right now. You’ll probably have to catch him after classes are over.”

It’s Seokjin who ends up finding Namjoon at the end of the day. Mostly because when Namjoon runs to Seokjin’s classroom at the end of the day, Seokjin is already missing. So Namjoon shoots Seokjin a quick text asking him where he is before heading towards the gym to get ready for basketball practice.

Like a weird case of déjà vu, when Namjoon arrives, there’s someone already waiting there.

“Don’t you have to leave soon?” Namjoon asks Seokjin. There’s something reminiscent about how nervous Seokjin looks, eyes wide when he realizes Namjoon is there, as if he didn’t know Namjoon was going to show up

Seokjin hums. “Soon.” Namjoon knows that Seokjin needs to go home soon so he can get to the airport on time. Seokjin has been telling him about his family trip for months now, a week-long celebration in New Zealand. Namjoon knows how excited Seokjin is about it, and maybe that’s why he seems so restless right now.

Seokjin is so restless, and maybe that’s why it takes Namjoon a moment to notice his missing button.

“Who did you give it to?” Namjoon suddenly feels just as restless as Seokjin looks. The second button is for someone you care about. Like giving away a piece of your heart. For a few months now, Namjoon has assumed that Seokjin had gotten over whatever crush he had, simply because he hadn’t heard anything about Seokjin dating someone. Now it’s just a cruel reminder that Seokjin isn’t just leaving the basketball club, but is leaving Namjoon behind completely. Aren’t they friends? Shouldn’t Seokjin tell Namjoon about these sorts of things?

Seokjin freezes. “Give what?”

“Your button. The second one. It’s missing.”

Seokjin’s laughter is loud and awkward. Forced. “Oh, you heard about the tradition going around this year? I had too many people asking for my button, so I just took it off myself. I figured it was nicer than letting too many people get their hopes up.”

Namjoon shoves his hands into his pockets. “So you’re not giving it to anyone?”

Seokjin hesitates. “I didn’t say that.”

Namjoon wants to ask what Seokjin means by that. He wants to ask if Seokjin has a crush on somebody, if it’s the same person that he’s had a crush on this entire time, if he thinks this person returns his feelings. They have to, right? It wouldn’t make sense otherwise.

“I see,” is all Namjoon says, despite the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. If Seokjin wanted to talk about it, he would’ve said something, right? Namjoon doesn’t want to make him upset by asking.

“Have fun on your trip, hyung,” Namjoon says loudly, spinning around to unlock the gym. He can’t look at Seokjin right now. He doesn’t want Seokjin to know how petty he’s being. “Text me when you take off and land, okay?”

Namjoon doesn’t even have the key pulled out before he’s being spun around and pulled into a hug.

When Seokjin and Namjoon first met, Namjoon distinctively remembers being annoyed that Seokjin was taller than him. And he’s aware that he’s grown a significant amount in the past year, but he only now realizes that he’s now taller than Seokjin. At one point, he had to physically look up at Seokjin. Now Seokjin’s face easily tucks into the crook of his neck as he embraces Namjoon, arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck.

“Hyung?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for everything, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin murmurs. It’s only because they’re standing so close that Namjoon can hear him at all. “I really loved getting to spend my final year with you.”

“Don’t go,” Namjoon whispers involuntarily. Seokjin doesn’t say anything to suggest he heard Namjoon, but his embrace becomes tighter, and Namjoon lets himself wrap his arms around Seokjin’s waist and pull him closer. If he doesn’t let go, does that mean Seokjin won’t leave him?

They stay like that for a minute, and Namjoon is grateful Seokjin lets them stand there in silence, because if he were to speak, he knows he would cry.

Slowly, Seokjin’s hands sink down until they’re against Namjoon’s chest, and then he’s pushing back. Just enough distance for Namjoon to properly see Seokjin’s flushed face.

“Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs. Namjoon doesn’t ask what Seokjin is sorry about, because he knows there’s nothing for Seokjin to be sorry about, and whatever Seokjin will say will just make Namjoon sad. 

Instead, Namjoon stands still. Silent. He watches Seokjin reach his hand into Namjoon’s pocket and pull out the gymnasium key.

“Have a good day at practice, Namjoon-ah.”

And then he’s saying something about being late to his flight and running off, leaving Namjoon alone.

Namjoon only checks his phone once during practice, sighing in relief when he gets a text from Seokjin saying that he made it to the airport on time. By the time Namjoon is heading home for the day, there’s a text from Seokjin saying he boarded his plane, and he’s not sure if he’ll have phone service while he’s abroad.

Despite there being only a three hour time difference between Korea and New Zealand, Namjoon knows that Seokjin’s flight is going to be almost twelve hours. So he’s not surprised when he gets home and there’s no additional texts from Seokjin, tossing his phone onto his bed before changing out of his uniform.

His uniform jacket falls to the ground as he undresses, but something else does as well. At first, Namjoon thinks it might be the gym key, but then he remembers he already put that away in his backpack. What else was he carrying around in his pocket?

It takes him a moment to find the loose object, but he spots something shiny and golden on his floor, and he picks up the jacket button. It definitely looks like it came from his school uniform, and he curses at the thought of somehow accidentally ripping his button off. His mother is going to be so annoyed she’s going to sew his uniform back together. Again.

Except when he’s inspecting his uniform to see what the damage is, he realizes all of his buttons are still intact. Weird.

He throws himself onto his bed, rolling over to grab his phone. There’s still no texts from Seokjin. Not that Namjoon was expecting a text, considering Seokjin is high up in the air right now. He probably doesn’t have reception or internet up there.

Namjoon frowns. Namjoon and Seokjin don’t text a lot, considering they used to see each other almost every day. Maybe Seokjin doesn’t even think about texting Namjoon, even though it’s all Namjoon can think about right now.  What if it’s because Seokjin is texting someone else, so he’s not bothering to respond to Namjoon? Is it his secret crush that he won’t tell Namjoon about? Did Seokjin ever end up giving his button to this person?

His button.

The extra button that Namjoon had found gleams in the light on top of Namjoon’s desk, just as the memory of Seokjin reaching into his pocket earlier flashes in his mind.

Wait.

Namjoon scrambles out of his bed to grab the button, holding it up to his face. Examining the button, as if he stares closely enough, it’ll have someone’s name written across it. Except all he can see is Seokjin standing in front of him with his missing jacket button.

With the button gripped tightly in one hand, Namjoon reaches for his phone with his other, and calls Jimin.

“I found a button,” is the first thing Namjoon says when Jimin picks up the phone. He looks down at the button in his hand, worried it might’ve disappeared in the last two seconds. What if he just imagined the entire thing?

A moment of silence from Jimin, and then, “A button?”

Namjoon nods, and then remembers Jimin can’t see him. “Yeah. My school uniform button.”

“Ah. Let me guess. Your school uniform isn’t missing any buttons though, right?”

Namjoon hesitates. He’s scared to say it aloud, but also, Jimin doesn’t sound very surprised that it’s not Namjoon’s button. “I think it’s Seokjin’s button.”

Jimin laughs. “You think? He didn’t just give it to you?

“Why would he do that?”

“Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin says with a sigh. “Where exactly did you find Seokjin’s button?”

“In my pocket,” Namjoon says quietly.

“And why do you think it’s Seokjin’s button?”

Namjoon swallows. “Because I’m pretty sure I watched him put it in there.”

“So you know it’s Seokjin’s button,” Jimin says, and over the sarcastic words is a fond overlay. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know!” Namjoon’s hands are so sweaty that he feels obligated to put Seokjin’s button down, not wanting to ruin it. “What am I supposed to do about it? He didn’t even say anything!”

“I mean, it’s basically a love confession. So how do you plan on responding?”

Namjoon drops to the floor and curls into a ball, knees pressed to his chest. “A love confession?”

Namjoon’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Because a love confession? From Seokjin? A love confession from Seokjin? It doesn’t make sense, not at all, and Namjoon’s brain can’t compute it. 

“I just wanted to say thank you for everything, Namjoon-ah. I really loved getting to spend my final year with you.”

Namjoon’s stomach churns.

“What if he dropped it in there by mistake?” Namjoon asks, and he doesn’t realize how scared he is of the idea until he says it aloud. He’s terrified that’s what happened.

Jimin groans. “Hyung, I want you to think about all the things Seokjin-hyung has done for you, and then really think if you should be questioning the fact he’s confessing to you.”

Namjoon thinks about Seokjin’s flushed cheeks, thinks about the blush that travels all the way to the tips of Seokjin’s ear. Seokjin’s shy smile, Seokjin’s smile that makes his cheeks puff up. His laughter, loud and obnoxious and Namjoon’s favorite thing to hear. The way he fits against Namjoon, skin soft and warm underneath Namjoon’s touch. 

Seokjin, always next to Namjoon.

“But he’s so perfect,” Namjoon argues feebly. It makes sense that Namjoon would have a crush on Seokjin. Seokjin is the prettiest person Namjoon has ever seen, and on top of that, he’s funny and smart. He’s always making Namjoon laugh or bringing a smile to Namjoon’s face, and he’s always there to help Namjoon out. Developing feelings for Seokjin would be easy, but to have a crush on Namjoon? It doesn’t make sense.

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh,” Namjoon whispers, more to himself than to Jimin. In fact, for a moment, he forgets Jimin can even hear him. “I have a crush on Seokjin-hyung.” His whole face heats up as he says the words aloud, but he also can’t help but smile. He has a crush on Seokjin. He likes Seokjin. And Seokjin… “Oh, Jimin, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I think Seokjin-hyung has already done most of the work,” Jimin says. “So now it’s up to you to let him know how you feel. Which by the way, I can’t believe you just figured that out. You’re ridiculous, you know?”

“I know,” Namjoon says, still smiling. He can’t even be mad for being made fun of. He likes Seokjin. And Seokjin probably likes him. Which is the craziest thing Namjoon has ever had to think about, but he likes it. He really likes it.

Namjoon says his goodbyes to Jimin, thanking him for the conversation, and he goes to end the call when he remembers something.

“Wait, before you hang up,” Namjoon says. “Do you have Yoongi’s button?”

Jimin giggles. Namjoon can imagine his smile. “I ripped it off his jacket myself and told him if he didn’t stop me that meant he had to be my boyfriend.”

Namjoon grins. “Well, congratulations, Jimin.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Jimin says. “You’ll be there soon enough.”

And with that, Jimin hangs up, and Namjoon thinks about what he’s going to say to Seokjin.

+++

Seokjin ends up not texting Namjoon the entire week he’s gone.

Namjoon complains about it every day at practice, and Jimin says that it’s his karma for leaving Seokjin pining for an entire school year. Namjoon tries to defend himself by asking how he was supposed to know, and the rest of the basketball team chimes in that they thought Seokjin and Namjoon were already dating this entire time. It certainly sends any argument Namjoon might’ve had out the window.

Namjoon’s plan moves into action when he finally gets a text from Seokjin saying that he’s arrived back home.

‘Hyung. Do you know how to sew?’ Namjoon texts, nervously tapping his thumbs against the screen while he waits for Seokjin’s reply. The little dots that imply that Seokjin is typing pop up immediately, and Namjoon thinks his heart might beat out of his chest.

‘Yeah. Did you break something? LOL’

Namjoon doesn’t know whether to sigh in relief or be disappointed. It’s not like he was expecting for Seokjin to bring up the button out of nowhere.

He replies with some lies about his mother refusing to help him again, and Seokjin offers to teach him if he wants. When he asks Namjoon what time he wants to come over, Namjoon curses himself for not thinking of an excuse to cancel basketball practice. He dejectedly tells Seokjin that practice won’t be over until after two, but he can head over afterward.

It’s a little embarrassing that Namjoon is gross and sweaty when he plans on confessing to Seokjin, but he’s so excited that he’s not even thinking about it when he leaves basketball practice the next day. He tells them boys he’s treating them to a short practice session, and they’re all so grateful for a break that almost none of them see through his scheming.

“Good luck, hyung!” Jimin shouts on his way out, winking.

Namjoon flips him off. He’s never telling Jimin anything ever again.

“Oh, Seokjin did mention you said you were getting out early,” Seokjin’s mom says when she opens the door for Namjoon. “I just got back from the grocery store, but I’ll bring some snacks up for you two when they’re ready.”

Seokjin’s bedroom door is slightly cracked already, and Namjoon can see Seokjin playing with his phone on his bed, but he still chooses to knock first. Namjoon can’t help but smile at the way Seokjin startles at the noise, unable to fix his expression before Seokjin makes eye contact with him through the crack in the door.

“Come in, Namjoon-ah.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed so he’s sitting up, setting his phone aside. “How was practice? I hope you didn’t work the boys too hard.”

It’s too much, seeing Seokjin’s soft smile. Namjoon throws himself down on the floor dramatically, throwing his school uniform jacket down next to him.

Seokjin laughs. “Oh, did you get a rip in your uniform? I can imagine how, if that’s how you always treat your jacket. Here, just show me where the rip is so I can see what I’m dealing with-”

Seokjin’s words stop in his throat as he watches Namjoon rip the second button off his jacket.

“Namjoon-ah?”

Namjoon’s hands are sweaty as he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out Seokjin’s button. He places it in the now empty spot on his jacket. “I wanted to put yours here instead.”

Namjoon studies Seokjin’s face carefully. He watches Seokjin’s expression change from confusion to shock to bright red.

“You weren’t supposed to figure out that it was mine,” Seokjin says quietly.

Namjoon frowns. He puts the jacket and Seokjin’s button down carefully before standing, his own button clutched tightly in one hand. He approaches Seokjin, who doesn’t just look embarrassed, but ashamed. It hits Namjoon like a brick.

“Hyung, was I ever supposed to know?”

Seokjin looks anywhere but Namjoon. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“How could you?” Namjoon feels like an idiot. Seokjin didn’t want Namjoon to find the button immediately, he didn’t want him to find it later that night. Seokjin silently wanted to give Namjoon a piece of his heart so that he wouldn’t burden him. As if Seokjin’s heart would be a burden to Namjoon.

Namjoon grabs Seokjin’s hand and forces his button into it, cupping Seokjin’s hands closed with both of his hands, “Hyung, does it bother you that I’m giving you my button?”

Seokjin stares at his closed hand with wide eyes, as if he has no clue what he’s holding onto. As if he didn’t watch Namjoon rip the button off his own jacket. “No, of course not!” He says quickly. Panicked. He stares intently at their hands molded together.

“Good,” Namjoon says. It really is good. He likes the idea of Seokjin holding onto a piece of his heart. Though Seokjin’s been holding onto it long before Namjoon ever even thought about ripping off his button. “If you’re not bothered by my button, then why would I be bothered by having your button?”

“Because you don’t - because it’s not the same!” Seokjin squeaks.

“Why is it not the same? You gave me your button because you like me, right?”

“You don’t have to say it so loudly!” Seokjin whines. He tries to pull his hands out of Namjoon’s grip, but Namjoon doesn’t budge.

“Why? I’m giving you my button because I like you.” Namjoon feels the moment Seokjin stops fighting, entire body frozen. “It’s not different at all, hyung.”

For the first time since they started the conversation, Seokjin finally looks up at Namjoon. His eyes shine with wonder.

“You like me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes his free hand and places it on Seokjin’s cheek, angling Seokjin’s face towards him. He loves how warm Seokjin’s cheek is against his hand, that the warmth is definitely because of Namjoon. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. But I really like you, hyung. I’ve liked you for a while now, I’m pretty sure.”

“You never said anything,” Seokjin says quietly. He leans against Namjoon’s touch, reminiscent of petting a cat.

“You never did either, to be fair,” Namjoon says, and they both laugh. Namjoon leans in so that his forehead presses against Seokjin. “I’ve never really liked someone, or done anything like this before. But I like you a lot, and I want to be your boyfriend.” He licks his lips. “Hyung, will you be my boyfriend?”

Namjoon thinks that all of Seokjin’s smiles are pretty, but the one he wears right now might be the prettiest one yet.

“Is this what you planned on when you texted me yesterday?” Seokjin asks, laughing.

Namjoon nods. “Hyung, you made me wait a whole week. I had a lot of time to plan.” He pinches Seokjin’s cheek, reveling in how squishy it is. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“Try waiting almost a whole year,” Seokjin retorts. There’s not a single hint of bitterness in his words. “I like you too, Namjoon-ah. Please let me be your boyfriend.”

Later that evening, Namjoon leaves with three things: a freshly stitched uniform button, the biggest, most idiotic smile, and the knowledge that he has the world’s cutest boyfriend.

+++

“Hey, is Seokjin-hyung good at kissing?”

Namjoon almost trips over his feet at Jimin’s question, and it certainly catches him by enough surprise that his jogging pace slows down into a run. Jimin slows down beside him happily.

“What?”

“Kissing. Is he good at it? I was just thinking, he has such nice lips, so he’s probably good at kissing, right?”

“Kissing?” Namjoon stares at Jimin with wide eyes. “Why would I know that?”

Jimin’s feet come to a complete stop, and he stares at Namjoon in disbelief. “Because you guys are dating?”

Namjoon also comes to a stop. Not just his feet, but his mind and thoughts as well. Because, sure, Namjoon and Seokjin are dating. It’s only been a couple of weeks since Seokjin’s confession, and despite it being spring break, between Namjoon’s basketball practice and Seokjin’s preparation for college, they’ve only seen each other a few times since then. And the few times they have hung out, it’s been no different than before they started dating. In fact, Namjoon was starting to wonder what made dating any different.

Is Seokjin-hyung good at kissing?

Suddenly, Namjoon has a vivid image of what would make dating any different, and the image brings a flaming blush to his cheeks.

Jimin gasps. “You haven’t kissed him yet?”

Namjoon swallows. “Was I supposed to?”

“Of course you were!” Jimin is far too loud for the conversation they’re having, especially considering they’ve already grabbed the attention of their teammates by stopping in the middle of their warm-up jog. So much for Namjoon setting a good example as captain. “Hyung, he’s definitely been waiting for you to kiss him.”

“You don’t know that,” Namjoon grumbles, pushing Jimin forward and starting back up on his jog. There’s no way he can stand still now, not when Jimin’s put the image of Seokjin’s plush lips in Namjoon’s mind. Namjoon has noticed that Seokjin has nice lips before, but has he thought about kissing Seokjin?

Has Seokjin thought about kissing Namjoon?

Namjoon starts running faster, if only to have something to blame for how fast his heart is racing.

+++

Namjoon hates Jimin.

It’s been a week since his conversation with Jimin, but now it’s Namjoon’s first time seeing Seokjin since that, and Namjoon can’t stop staring at Seokjin’s lips.

It’s also the first time since they’ve started dating that Namjoon has stopped to consider that their hangouts should probably be considered dates. Which is crazy, because Namjoon has never been on a date. They’ve biked to the river today, and it feels like it could be a date, but it’s also something they used to do before dating.

Namjoon takes a seat in the grass next to Seokjin, whose eyes are focused on the river in front of them. It’s the middle of the day, and there’s quite a few people at the river, the sound of chattering competing with the sound of rippling water. Namjoon is acutely aware that they’re surrounded by couples, and he looks away with flushed cheeks from a particular couple who start to lean into each other.

Namjoon stares down at his hands. Clenches them into fists, and then slowly unravels them. Wiggles his fingers, and then counts each one of them. Lays them flat on his pants, and frowns. Not very soft.

Namjoon’s gaze drifts to Seokjin’s hands, resting in the grass just a few inches away. 

Following a deep breath, Namjoon grabs one of Seokjin’s hands with his own. As if Seokjin was waiting for him, their fingers intertwine easily. A small smile plays on Seokjin’s lips even as he refuses to meet Namjoon’s gaze, and Namjoon can only think about how warm Seokjin’s hand feels against his own. Very soft.

“Were you waiting for me to do that?” Namjoon asks quietly. Seokjin is smart. Seokjin probably realized these were dates a lot quicker than Namjoon did. And that’s something people do on dates, right? Hold hands? Was it just a coincidence that Seokjin’s hand was so easy to grab, or had Seokjin been waiting on Namjoon to figure it out? What else could Seokjin be waiting on?

“Hyung, he’s definitely been waiting for you to kiss him.”

            With flaming cheeks, Namjoon stares at Seokjin while he waits for his answer.

“Waiting for you to do what?” Seokjin asks, voice high-pitched as he fails to sound nonchalant. He must realize he doesn’t sound convincing, because he leans towards Namjoon until his face is hidden in Namjoon’s shoulder. “I mean, a little bit,” he says with a muffled voice.

“You could have just said something,” Namjoon says, and as he says it, he realizes how silly he must sound. Seokjin has never directly asked Namjoon for something, never directly told him how he feels. Which Namjoon finds unreasonably frustrating, because Seokjin seems to be able to read every little scratch on Namjoon’s heart, and Namjoon can’t manage to decipher the long list of hints Seokjin seems to give him.

Seokjin peeks up from his hiding spot, gaze warm and eyelashes fluttering as he speaks. “I’m happy with whatever you’ll give me, Namjoon-ah.”

It’s not fair of Seokjin to look up at Namjoon with such a soft expression and expect for Namjoon to not look down at Seokjin’s lips. To expect Namjoon to not think about kissing him. How had Namjoon not thought about kissing Seokjin until now? Every time he’s looked at Seokjin, there’s been a thudding in his chest and a buzzing in his head that Namjoon couldn’t quite understand, except now he can, and he understands that he wants Seokjin.

What a distracting way to live. Namjoon can’t say he minds.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says slowly, trying to piece his thoughts together. But then the words are tumbling out of his mouth before his thoughts can finish processing. “Are you good at kissing?

The shade of pink Seokjin turns is fascinating, and Namjoon watches in awe as the blush travels all the way to the tips of Seokjin’s ear. He has the urge to reach out and touch Seokjin’s ears, just to feel how warm they might be. To see if they could turn even redder, to see Seokjin’s lovely blush spread even further.

He keeps his hand at his side. He wants to touch Seokjin, but he can’t. He wants to know what Seokjin wants from him.

“Jimin was asking,” Namjoon explains. He thinks his blush must look a lot less appealing than Seokjin’s, with the way his face is burning. “And he said I should know. Because we’re dating.” He can’t help it, reaching out to touch Seokjin’s face. To feel the heat of his cheeks against his own hand, learning the softness of Seokjin’s face. “Hyung, was I supposed to kiss you?”

Seokjin’s blush intensifies, but even as he avoids looking Namjoon in the eye, he leans against his hand with a soft sigh. “Just being with you makes me happy, you know? I’m okay with whatever you’re comfortable with.”

”I’m comfortable right now,” Namjoon says. It’s true. He likes how Seokjin fits next to him, how his wide shoulders seem to tuck so neatly into Namjoon. How he curves around Namjoon’s arm so that his chin can rest on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Seokjin’s shy smile is almost hidden by the way he tucks his face against Namjoon. Namjoon can feel the way his lips move as he speaks. “Then you don’t need to do anything else, Namjoon-ah.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Namjoon quickly says without thinking, but how is he supposed to think clearly when Seokjin’s face is so close to his? Has he been thinking about kissing Seokjin? He certainly is now, eyes glued to the soft pout of Seokjin’s lip. He wants to kiss Seokjin, he thinks belatedly. He wants to kiss him a lot.

“Oh.” Seokjin’s voice falters. “Oh. Well. If you want to. Then you should do that, I think.”

Now Seokjin is looking up at Namjoon, and their faces are so close that Namjoon can see Seokjin’s blush clearly, how it travels from his cheeks, down his neck, up to the tips of his ears. He’s so, so cute.

“I’ve never kissed someone before,” Namjoon admits, getting nervous. Certainly, someone as handsome as Seokjin has kissed lots of people before. But Namjoon has never dated, never flirted, never had a crush on someone before Seokjin. He’s worried, because what if he’s bad at kissing? What if Seokjin breaks up with him because of it? 

Seokjin licks his lips. “That’s okay.”

“What if I mess up?”

Seokjin smiles. “You won’t.”

It’s a problem, because the longer Namjoon has his face so close to Seokjin’s, the more time he has to see how pretty Seokjin is. Namjoon’s really worried. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Namjoon-ah.”

“Yeah?”

“Close your eyes for me.”

Namjoon doesn’t close his eyes until Seokjin has a hand on his cheek, turning him Seokjin’s direction, and he realizes what’s happening. When he closes his eyes, he’s hyper aware of Seokjin’s touch, of the way Seokjin’s breath hits his face.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

And then there’s the faintest pressure against Namjoon’s lips, gone before Namjoon even has a chance to react. When Namjoon opens his eyes, Seokjin’s face is already hidden, pressed up against his shoulder.

“Was that an okay first kiss for you?” Seokjin asks, voice squeaky but muffled.

Namjoon thinks about the brief moment. Even if it was just a second, just the thought of Seokjin’s lips on his makes him feel flustered, heart racing. He wants to feel that again. “Yeah. It was good.”

“Oh. Good.” Seokjin sighs. His voice is so quiet when he speaks next, Namjoon almost misses it. “It was a good first kiss for me too. If you were wondering.”

Namjoon audibly gasps. “You’ve never…?” He tries to move so he can see Seokjin’s face, but all he can see are the tips of his red ears.

Seokjin groans. “Stop, don’t say it, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? I’ve never kissed someone before.” Namjoon can’t help but smile. He didn’t realize how much it bothered him, thinking about Seokjin kissing other people. He likes that Seokjin has only kissed him. He likes it a lot, actually.

“But I’m your hyung! I’m supposed to be older and cooler and know things like that,” Seokjin whines. “And you were worried about it so I didn’t want to say anything, but I was worried that maybe I’m bad at kissing, and then you were going to hate me, and then-”

Namjoon laughs loud enough to cut Seokjin’s rambling off.

“Hyung, it was really nice, I promise. I liked it a lot.” He licks his lips. “I like you a lot. I’ll like you a lot no matter what.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good. That’s really good.”

Namjoon runs his hand through Seokjin’s hair. “Hyung, I can’t kiss you again if you keep hiding your face like that.” He tugs a little bit on Seojkin's hair, to encourage him out of his hiding place.

Seokjin finally reveals his face, flushed and pretty. Namjoon can’t help but stare at his lips. “Again? You want to?”

Namjoon nods. “I told you, hyung. I like you. Of course I want to kiss you more.” The hand in Seokjin’s hair slides to his cheek, and he brings his other hand up to cup Seokjin’s face. “I really, really like you, Seokjin-hyung.”

Seokjin’s face is so warm in Namjoon’s hold.

“I really like you too, Namjoon-ah.” Seokjin closes his eyes as he says it, and it’s the only cue Namjoon needs before leaning in and kissing Seokjin again.

Namjoon still doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he thinks it’s probably pretty obvious. He would probably be thinking more about it if he wasn’t kissing Seokjin, who is really nice to kiss. Namjoon doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move his lips, how much pressure to apply, when to pull back.

He does know that he likes how Seokjin’s lips feel against his own, warm and soft. He likes how Seokjin has leaned into his space, arms thrown around him and fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Namjoon’s neck. He likes the little sigh Seokjin makes when they pull apart.

He really likes Seokjin.

“Is there anything else you’ve been waiting for me to do, hyung?” Namjoon whispers into the small space between them.

Seokjin hums softly, his eyes fluttering shut. He leans forward and kisses Namjoon one more time. “What do you mean?”

It’s hard to not get distracted with Seokjin looking so sweet in front of him. “Like the hand holding. And kissing. Is there anything else I’m supposed to do?”

“Stay with me forever,” Seokjin says quickly, and even though he looks flustered by his own words, he doesn’t break eye contact with Namjoon. “You’re supposed to stay with me forever, Namjoon-ah.” He bites his lip. “Is that okay?”

When Namjoon leans in to kiss Seokjin again, he knows he’s smiling, and he likes that he can feel Seokjin smiling against him.

“I think I can make that work.”

+++

It’s the fourth quarter, with less than one minute on the clock, and the score is 42 to 40. The other team currently has the ball. Namjoon is so nervous he thinks he might be vibrating.

From the beginning of the school year, Namjoon drilled it into the team that they were going to go all the way to the final championship round this year. He cracked down on the mistakes they made during the game they lost last year, and finetuned the actions that happened during the games they won. It was difficult, especially since Namjoon made no attempts to find another team manager.

On the other hand, Seokjin had been incredibly patient, listening to Namjoon ramble about all the things he was planning for the club while studying for his university courses. There had been weekends where Seokjin finished his schoolwork on the gymnasium bleachers, only putting his laptop down to help Namjoon pack everything up.

Namjoon is sitting on the bench, watching the opposing team carefully, getting ready to call for a timeout. There’s not much time left on the clock, and they’re two points behind. He knows the team’s energy is fading, and he wants to avoid going into overtime if he can. 

“Hey!” Namjoon almost jumps out of his seat, only saved by the pair of hands that slam down on his shoulders. He twists his head around to look at Seokjin.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin grins. “Sorry, your head just looked a second away from exploding all over the court, and I think they’d foul us for that.” He hands Namjoon a water bottle, raising his eyebrows expectantly when Namjoon stares at it blankly. “No brains exploding or passing out until after you guys win.”

Namjoon winces. He places his hand on top of Seokjin’s hand, leaning back against his boyfriend. “Then it might have to wait until next year.”

Seokjin knocks his own head against Namjoon’s. “Watch your mouth. Now, your teammates just got the ball back, so why don’t you go ahead and call your timeout and then get out there on the court and win the game for us?”

Namjoon looks back at the court, and sure enough, Jimin is in possession of the ball, victorious smile so wide that it’s easily spotable even though he’s on the other side of the court.

The timeout passes quickly. Namjoon can feel the nervous energy buzzing through everyone’s veins, and he encourages the team to use it as their energy to win. He doesn’t want to switch up too much with so little time left on the clock, so he keeps his feedback limited. Most of the time is spent checking in on everyone, making sure everyone is doing okay.

They’re called back to the court before long. Everyone shuffles on, but Namjoon is stopped when he hears someone saying his name.

“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin calls out, just before Namjoon steps out onto the court. His cheeks are bright red and eyes sincere. “I’ll still love you even if you lose, you know?”

Namjoon almost trips walking onto the court. He’s smiling like an idiot.

“I love you too, Seokjin-hyung,” Namjoon says for the first time. Definitely not for the last time. He can barely speak, because he’s smiling so much. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Namjoon is still smiling when he passes the ball to his teammate, still smiling when he holds his stance defensively. Even as the other team steals the ball back momentarily, Namjoon still smiles, because he trusts his team, and it's not long before Jungkook has regained possession of the ball. 

Namjoon watches with a smile as Jungkook dribbles the ball down the court, the opposing team heavy on his heels. Jungkook smoothly pivots with the ball, and he barely makes eye contact with Namjoon, not a single word as he mirrors Namjoon’s smile before he sneakily passes the ball back to Namjoon, who’s much further away from the basket with no one defending him.

The clock is down to the last few seconds. Namjoon’s far away from the basket, even further than he needs to be for a 3-point field shot. His hands are sweating and his heart is pounding dangerously fast, but there’s a sense of calm brought to him by the way his teammates are all smiling around him. He’s also smiling, and he hopes Seokjin is watching him, seeing how much fun he’s having.

The ball leaves his hands, and Namjoon knows. He knows he has the ability to do it, years of practice and hardwood being sent with the ball that he throws. He’s smiling before the ball even lands in the basket, and he’s smiling when the crowd erupts into cheers just as the time buzzes. 

Somehow Namjoon ends up on his teammate’s shoulders, carried off the court with enough difficulty that Namjoon is worried they’re going to end up dropping him. Judging by the way they laugh at Namjoon’s complaints, he’s not sure whether it’ll be on accident or purpose.

“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin says, and Namjoon realizes Seokjin has joined the team’s joint effort to lift Namjoon up. But he’s the one who ends up helping Namjoon gently join the rest of them on the ground, arms secured around Namjoon until both of his feet are on the floor.

“Hey,” Namjoon says, a little louder than he wants to, but it’s the only way to be heard over the cheering around them. “I don’t know if you saw, but we won.”

Out of all the smiles surrounding him, Namjoon loves Seokjin’s the most.

Seokjin’s eyes twinkle. “I saw. What did you say? Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m a careful listener, you know?”

Namjoon grins. “Me too. I very carefully listened to what you said right before that. You can say it again, though. Just for fun.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he throws his arms around Namjoon’s neck and pulls him closer.

“I love you, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin says before leaning in to kiss Namjon.

With a handful of cheering and fake gagging behind him, Namjoon thinks he’s never been happier in his entire life.

“I love you too, Seokjin-hyung.”