“Hey Seok,” Jin answers the phone. “I thought you’d be asleep. It’s late.”

“Can’t sleep, my brain feels like a computer that won’t shut down. I’m all abuzz with nervous energy, and I have no place to channel it. You ever feel like that, hyung?”

“Only every time I’m around Kim Namjoon, or think about Kim Namjoon, or hear some say the name Kim Namjoon,” Jin confesses.

“So, no?”

“Haha, very funny,” Jin retorts. “What’s got you all abuzz?” Jin chuckles at tossing Hoseok’s words back him.

“God, I want to tell you, but I don’t want to tell you, because I’m not sure if I’m feeling what I think I’m feeling. Coupled with the fact that if I am indeed feeling what I think I’m feeling, it’s a complication I can’t really handle right now,” Hoseok rambles.

“So, uhm, what?” Jin questions in confusion. “Not that I don’t appreciate the sheer number of times you used the word feeling in your long, run-on thought, because I do, but, uhm, what?”

Hoseok chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Min Yoongi,” Hoseok says flatly, and Jin requires no further explanation.

“Well, ,” he responds bluntly. “I mean, I saw it coming, I just didn’t see it coming now.”

“Well, congrats to you because I did not ing see it coming at all. He just snuck up on me, the bastard, and before I knew what was happening, he’s all Superman to my Lois Lane, and my ing child wants him to be his appa.” Hoseok’s breathing is heavy on the line, and Jin’s worried the man might be having a breakdown.

“Breathe, Seok. Breathe, okay?” Jin speaks calmly, hoping to help his friend relax.

“I sound a bit crazy, don’t I? I feel crazy too. I blame Jongin, to be honest,” Hoseok says suddenly.

“My partner?”

“Mmm,” Hoseok hums.

“Uhm, how?”

“He told me Yoongi and I were good together.”

“Jongin told you that you and Yoongi were good together?” Jin repeats.

“Yes. Well, no. Not in those exact words. We were talking, and I told him how opposite Yoongi and I were. Jongin’s boyfriend is my new lawyer,” Hoseok interjects.

“I know,” Jin tells him. “Go on.”

“Well, he said it was good that Yoongi and I were dating because we balance each other out, and it stuck. I have tried not to think about his words, but in doing so, it seems all I can do is think about his words.” Hoseok sounds positively wrecked, and Jin can one hundred percent relate.

“That’s not a bad thing, Seok, thinking about what Jongin said. Yoongi’s great. Trust me, I know this. I don’t think Namjoon would have survived if not for him.”

“I know, hyung, I do. It’s just, there’s so much... so much going on. This is not the time for a relationship, hyung. Not a romantic one, anyway. Plus, I don’t even know if he’s interested. What- what if I say something and he rejects me? Normally I can deal with things like that, but not now, not with my parents trying to take Jimin. I’m, I’m—I’m just so scared,” Hoseok admits with a sigh.

Jin can’t help his smile. He understands Hoseok’s fears, having felt the same ones. Maybe not to the extent that his friend feels them, but fear is fear.

“This is not me changing the subject, but just follow my story, okay? So, yesterday I took Tae with me to the supermarket, and this nice lady gave him black liquorice. Which he tried and immediately spit out. The woman looks totally devasted, but black liquorice and five-year-old... not sure what she expected.” Jin stops for a moment, shaking his head at the memory.

He can hear Hoseok’s breathing on the line.

“Anyway, Tae and I had a conversation about being polite, even when we don’t want to be. I tried my best to explain that when someone gives you a gift, it is a special honor, and we need to show gratitude. It is always important to say ‘thank you.’ I asked him if he understood, and he’s all, ‘Nae, Appa,’ with that extra dramatic head nod he does. I then tell him, even if we don’t like something, we need to say thank you.”

Jin pauses, taking a moment to gather his thoughts as he recalls the story. He continues.

“Because being grateful is important. We should be happy the person thought of us, even if we don’t really like what they got us. Again, he tells me he understands. So finally, I ask, ‘Tae what do you say if someone gives you something you don’t like?’ He looks up at me with big innocent eyes, adorable box smile on his face, and he dead says, ‘Give me something else.’ It took herculean strength to not laugh as I corrected him to tell him the correct answer was thank you.” Jin chuckles on the line, remembering the serious look on Taehyung’s face as he answered.

“That kid’s so relatable at times, but I don’t see how this relates,” Hoseok replies with a deep laugh.

“Oh, it doesn’t. I just wanted to tell you the story.”

“,” Hoseok says with a chuckle.

“I’m lying. It applies. So, when we got home, I thought about Taehyung’s answer. I realized that his answer was correct. We are so busy making things PC and trying not to offend others, that we miss just being truthful. Sometimes it’s that we’re scared or nervous about what will happen if we just face our truths. Taehyung’s answer was correct because there was no fear in it. Life’s never going to be perfect, Seok. There’s no good time to fall in love. If you want to know where you stand, just ask. If you don’t like the answer, let him know.”

“Again, why is Tae so relatable? He’s five; how does he know?” Hoseok jokes. “I know you’re right, hyung. I need clarification because this not knowing is worse, but I’m scared that I’m the only one feeling this way.”

“I more than anyone understand that feeling, Seok. Namjoon feels like a dream to me, a one-sided dream where I say how I feel and he gives me replies that are polite and seem like he may feel the same but are never clear enough for me to know what he truly thinks. But still, I tell him because I want him to know,” Jin says, hoping the advice makes sense.

“I hope one day it becomes clear, hyung,” Hoseok says sympathetically.

“I wish the same for you, Seok.”

Hoseok inhales, and Jin feels as though the man just took in the weight of the world.

“On a lighter note, today I jokingly told Jimin, after he locked Sushi in a cupboard saying he was ‘war crimanimal,’ that I was sending him to military school.”

“Crimanimal, nice play on words,” Jin points out.

“It is, right? Too bad it was just him mispronouncing criminal. Anyway, he starts crying, telling me that he doesn’t to go to ‘militarried school’ because people are mean, and they don’t have cookies. Not sure why they don’t have cookies, but apparently there are no cookies at military school.” Hoseok chuckles on the line.

“He’s probably right,” Jin laughs.

“Probably. I tell him I’m sending him for them to straighten him up and help him fly right. He stops crying instantly, arches his head, and stares at me with wide eyes. And I’m like, oh , what did I say? Then he’s like, ‘Really appa? Really? Militarried school will make me FLY?’ Then he starts jumping around the room shouting ‘Yay, I’m gonna get wings at militarried school. I didn’t have the heart to explain what I meant after that.”

“Wings,” Jin repeats in between laughter. “I swear, what do they hear when we speak?”

“Their in-brain translation device does skew towards what they want to hear, that’s for sure. He kept asking when militarried school starts. I finally got him to not want to go by telling him he’d have to leave Tae and Kook. His reason, and I quote, ‘I can’t go to militarried school, Appa. Taehyung and Kookie would miss me, and they’d cried. I’d be too sad. Bye bye wings.”

“Wow, the commitment. He gave up having wings for Tae and Kook,” Jin responds with a chuckle.

“Thank goodness, because I was not sure how I would have explained my way out of that one,” Hoseok tells him with a small sigh. “Anyway, I’m finally sleepy. Night, hyung, thanks for staying up with me.”

“Night, Seok, sleep tight.”

“You drove here?” Yoongi stares at Namjoon in half awe and half pride.

“Mmm, I just woke up and felt like I could do it. Or more like I needed to do it, to prove it to myself. Not sure.” Namjoon confesses.

“Either way, Joon, I’m proud of you. I know how hard it is for you to do things like this without prompting, so for you to take this step on your own is huge, Joonie. I’m super proud of you.” Yoongi’s praise is like an elixir filling all of Namjoon’s wounds, healing all his broken parts.

Plopping himself in the empty chair in front of Yoongi’s desk, he chuckles to himself, remembering a particularly funny event on his drive over.

“Whatcha laughing at?” Yoongi questions.

“Ahh, nothing really, just remembering something that happened on my drive over,” he answers.

“Spill,” Yoongi directs.

Namjoon laughs a bit harder as the memory plays in his mind like a B movie with subpar acting that so bad the scenes are ten times funnier.

“So, I was at an intersection, you know the one by the Ramen shop we really like?” Yoongi nods his head and his lips, probably unconsciously. “I saw the car in the opposite direction needing to turn, and I decided to give him way. I go to flash my lights to let him know to go, but instead I turned my wipers on and off, sprayed water on my windshield, both blinkers, and accidentally put my hazard lights on, all within ten seconds. I look up, and the man is just staring at me in utter confusion. Then... then he turns off his blinker and proceeds straight, probably because he felt threatened by my spaz behavior.”

Namjoon’s always been a fan of the way Yoongi’s eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles. It's endearing and warm, almost fatherly. It makes Namjoon feel like he’s home. He’s often wondered why he’s never felt romantically drawn to the older man when everything about Yoongi feels safe and inviting. Yoongi is his soulmate, the person Namjoon knows will be there to the very end.

Namjoon’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Hyung, have you ever wondered why you and I never, you know, hooked up or got together?”

“Mmm, sometimes. In high school we both were more into girls, even if we admired both genders. As we got older, I think we just kind of got comfortable with the relationship we had, and now that we both seem to find men more attractive, we each have other men that have piqued our interests, I suppose,” Yoongi muses.

“Other men? You’re interested in someone, hyung? Wait, hyung, is it Hoseok? Hyung, do you like Seok?” Namjoon leans forward in his seat, elbows on the desk, waiting excitedly for the man’s reply.

“I, uhm, wait, what? How did we go from ‘hyung, how come we never’ to ‘are you interested in Hoseok?’” Yoongi tries to deflect the question.

“Hyung, don’t try to avoid, just answer the question. You know every tiny detail about Jin hyung and I. Fair is fair,” he tells the man.

“Yes, but that’s not because I request information.

Fair.

“True, but that doesn’t change the fact that you still know. Now, answer the question. Do you like Hoseok?”

Yoongi sighs, and Namjoon chuckles. Years of friendship have taught him a lot. Sighs in response to questions usually indicate that Yoongi is struggling with the answer.

“Honestly, I don’t know. No, no, it’s I lie. I do know. He makes me feel things, he and Jimin. I love that little boy. He feels like Jungkook to me. I want to protect them the way I protect you and Kook, but the way I feel about Hoseok is different. He- he... he makes my heart beat faster, you know, like flutter and . When he smiles, I want to chew my bottom lip off. It’s crazy, Namjoon, just freaking crazy,” Yoongi confesses.

“Does he know?”

“No, he’s going through a lot right now. Now is not the time, you know?” Yoongi answers.

“Hyung, I’m the worst person in the world when it comes to relationships, but I know how fragile life and its moments are. There’s never a right time to tell someone how you feel. Right now, with all the world against him, it may be nice for Hoseok to know that someone wants to be for him. Just a thought.”

“When did you become Confucious?”

Namjoon’s about to answer Yoongi when his phone starts to vibrate in his front pocket, tickling his skin.

“Hold that thought, hyung. I have a call coming in.”

The number on the screen is not one Namjoon recognizes. Usually, his disease keeps him from answering, but today is a good day. Today, he feels like the Namjoon he was before the dark cloud descended on his life. He hits the answer key.

“Hello.”

The voice on the other line has him instantly regretting his decision.

“Hello, oppa? It’s me, Jennie.”

“Why are you calling me, Jennie?” Namjoon can feel the all too familiar panic and anger beginning to rise at the mere sound of the woman’s voice.

“Jennie? Why the is she calling? Give me the god damn phone,” Yoongi demands as he lunges across the desk to grab the cell phone from Namjoon’s hand. “What the is your issue? I don’t care how sorry you are or how much you miss Jungkook. Maybe you should have ing thought about the consequences of your actions before you left a two-year-old alone at a train station,” Yoongi continues to ream the girl, and something inside of Namjoon snaps.

“Hyung, give me back the phone, please,” he asks calmly, maybe too calmly, because Yoongi doesn’t argue and hands him the phone without a fight.

“Jennie, I told you I would call you when I was ready, and I’m not ready. If you continue you to do this, bypassing what I say to just to do what you want, I won’t consider it. I won’t give you a chance. I’ll keep Jungkook away from you and take you to court and have all your parental rights revoked. While I genuinely believe that’s what you deserve, it’s not what I want to do and not what I believe is in Jungkook’s best interest, long term. So please do what I ask and wait. Just ing wait.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond and disconnects the call. Placing the phone face down on the desk before him, Namjoon leans back in the chair, slumps, really. The call has drained all his energy. He feels weighted, heavy, a mixture of anger and anxiety begins to fill his core. It dawns on him that he drove here, and he’s pissed at Jennie, but mostly at himself for allowing her to take away the confidence he had earlier.

“You want me to take you home?” Yoongi asks, already knowing what needs to be done, and Namjoon is grateful as he nods his response.

“I was going to surprise Kookie and pick him up from school today. Why’d she call, hyung? Why do I let her affect me this way? I felt better. I drove here on my own, and I wasn’t panicked. How did it go bad so quickly?” he questions.

The four walls of Yoongi’s spacious office seem as though they’re closing in around Namjoon, the air out as they do. A cold sweat begins to form at the base of his forehead, spreading quickly.

“Breathe, Joon, just breathe, okay?” He hears Yoongi’s voice as though it’s in the distance, as though the man is miles away. Namjoon listens and tries his best to obey Yoongi’s command as his world begins to spin out of his control. He feels Yoongi’s hand on his shoulder just in time, centering him, offering him the assurance he needs to know he won’t drown in the emotions that are slowly washing over him.

“I got you, Joon. Lana,” Yoongi leans over, pressing the intercom button on his phone to call his secretary.

“Yes, sir,” the woman responds.

“Please cancel my next two appointments. I’ll be taking Namjoon home. Also, reschedule my three o’clock for tomorrow, and clear my schedule for the rest of the day,” Yoongi directs her.

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else?”

“No thank you, Lana.”

“My pleasure, sir. I hope Mr. Kim feels better.”

It dawns on Namjoon as he and Yoongi leave the office and make their way to the garage that they never told Lana that he wasn’t feeling well.

“Okay, class, today is Taehyung’s first day back after having surgery,” Ms. Wang informs her class of wide-eyed five-year-olds. “Who knows what surgery is?”

Jungkook and Jimin, thinking themselves experts on the topic, raise their hands enthusiastically.

“Ahh, yes, Jungkook-sshi,” the teacher acknowledges the little boy who giggles happily at being called on.

“My appa said that Taetae is tenderized and we have to treated him gentle, like a baby. Surgermy makes you littler.”

“Uhm, that’s kind of correct, Jungkook. We do have to be gentle with Taehyung, but he’s still the same age; he isn’t any younger. I think your appa was just using a baby as an example of something that you’re gentle with.”

The little boy makes an “o” sound, and the teacher moves on.

“Jimin-sshi, you had your had raised as well. What do you think surgery is?”