Seokjin stumbled into the foyer, his tie askew, coat ed and flapping, and laptop case flinging about in his hand. He signed in, rushed to the lift and jabbed the button, inwardly cursing at the building’s sorry excuse for an elevator.

He had to look for his work material and laptop (which weren’t in his apartment in the first place), find his car (there were three large carparks around and under the officetel), drive to work (in a traffic jam), organise his documents (which were scattered all over the backseat) and find an optimal parking space (his rattletrap car was almost crushed in the horror that is the parking war). Altogether the elapsed time was a full hour and five minutes.

Seokjin was mumbling to himself about the bad start to the day when a purple-haired male popped his head into Seokjin’s line of sight. “Seokjinnie~ you’re late.”

Seokjin swatted at the offending speaker. “Kim Taehyung. May I mention that you’re late too?”

Taehyung grinned and turned to tap a beat on the lift button. “I’m not late, Jinnie, I just came to check if you were gonna show up at all today because I want you to buy me a chocolate chip ice-cream and EVERYONE ELSE SAID THEY WOULDN’T BUY ME ONE.” He yelled this out loud, causing some people to glance at them strangely.

“You should ask someone else. I forgot my wallet today,” Seokjin replied, used to Taehyung’s random outbursts.

The lift announced its arrival with a ping, and both men entered the lift. As soon as the doors slid closed, Seokjin and Taehyung waged their daily button-mashing war against each other on the lift panel.

Seokjin stepped out into the ninth floor hallway, still trading good-natured insults with Taehyung. The lift doors shut, and he turned and strode to his office, his serious-business state of mind already switched on and rearing to go. He was planning through the rooms in a housing duplex in his head, so it came to no surprise that Seokjin didn’t notice Namjoon crouched over in front of the doorway until--

   --he tripped over the other man’s back and went sprawling on the ground with a yell.

Namjoon leapt up instantaneously (“Oh my go- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have been in front of the door, I’m so sorry-”) and rushed over to Seokjin, dropping the blocks of post-it notes he was presumably picking up. He squeaked out more ‘sorrys’ as he pulled Seokjin into a sitting position, crouching beside him and curling one hand around Seokjin’s shoulder. “A-Are you alright?” Namjoon peered anxiously into the other’s eyes.

Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head a few times, trying to dispel his disoriented state of mind. “I’m fine. Help me up.” He held out a hand.

Namjoon scrambled to his feet and pulled Seokjin up with an apologetic look in his eyes, their hands lingering together a little longer than necessary. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need any medical attention?”

Seokjin gave a dry laugh. “I’m not that old, Namjoon. I’m completely fine.”

Seokjin moved to his chair, dropping Namjoon’s hand, and pulled off his coat, tossing it and his laptop onto the desk and sitting down with a sigh. Namjoon started, a little unsure of what to do, before picking up the post-it notes and putting them on one of the shelves lining the walls, then sitting on a chair by the assistant tables.

A sudden thought struck Seokjin. “Hey, Namjoon- do you know how I got home last night? Because I can’t remember anything.”

Namjoon looked at Seokjin with an anxious expression. “I- uh, drove you home.”

Seokjin frowned, tilting his head. “How did you get into the apartment? How did you even get me up to the apartment? I’m not that light.”

Namjoon coughed, slightly embarrassed. “Um, I found the key in your pocket… um, and I sorta, uh, carried you up.” He looked down and rubbed his nose.

Seokjin raised his eyebrows, a snort of laughter leaving his nose. “I’m guessing you work out, then.”

Namjoon nodded once, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag on the assistant tables.

…?

The assistant tables… are clear?

Seokjin bolted upright. “Namjoon, did you clean this place all by yourself?”

Namjoon looked over to Seokjin, slightly startled. “Yes, I did… um, was I not… supposed to?”

Seokjin leant back and shook his head, smiling. “You didn’t need to. But I have to say, you’re one of the most hardworking here from what I’ve seen so far.”

Namjoon beamed at the compliment. Seokjin noticed his dimples for the first time.

Author’s Note:

hehe DIMPLESS :3 but seriously tho Namjoon’s dimples are so crapping cute ><

hum~ I wrote this pretty quickly which is great because it means I can update a bit faster hopefully :D

...i just realised that i wrote dimpless which makes me feel like i wrote dimple-less which would be a shame for namjoon and every other dimpled person in the world and maybe the universe since dimples are very cute

um… i think it would be best for me to stop there because talking about the universe will lead to either a paradoxical crisis or an existential crisis and neither of them is good because they melt my brain to soup and i need my brain in order to function and i dont think soup in your skull would be a very easy thing to use to function and now i will really stop right ……..here because i think i’m rambling oops

*awkward out >3<*

P.S how the *BLEEP* did dimples turn into paradoxical/existential crises i dont eVEN UNDERSTAND HOW MY MIND WORKS-

P.P.S wOW this was a long author's note sorry everyone T T

P.P.S.S this chapter is longer than the others by around 100 words

GO ME pathetic psh author nim