“I’m not emotionally stunted,” Namjoon says, affront evident in his tone.

“Says the man that drunk texts the automated voice on his phone.” Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the smug grin.

“I didn't drunk text. I merely asked her questions, uhmmm…about my – while slightly inebriated.” Namjoon sighs, what can he do? Cortana has a lovely voice, and he may or may not like the way she says . Namjoon holds his head down, hiding the slight smile on his face.

“Hyung, on a scale of one to , your emotional maturity is at constipated.” Namjoon grimaces, because while there is no bite to Jungkook’s statement, it doesn’t change the fact that it sounds to Namjoon like stone-cold facts.

This awkward as hell conversation with Jungkook had spawned from an equally distressing discussion with his Human uality Professor, Amber Liu. It all started when she had asked Namjoon to stay back after the lecture to “discuss your issues with intimacy,” the whole situation made more disconcerting because she had announced their meeting in a classroom filled with three hundred and fifty of his peers. The snickering and whispers had begun almost immediately, and swell, Jungkook is not the only one who thinks he’s ually retarded.

“I fail to see how modeling for an intimacy photo shoot will help me,” Namjoon bemoans his luck.

“The camera never lies hyung,” Jungkook answers, standing with hands on his hips like a mother doling out advice to a rebellious teen.

He sighs. It was one lousy statement, one, and Namjoon can’t see how it paints him as a “ hungry caveman who hides from intimacy and uses a replacement for baring his soul.” What d’ is she talking about? He can count the number of times he’s had in the last six months on one hand. He may be hungry for , but that doesn’t mean he’s getting fed.

He drops his head in his hands dramatically before tossing himself backwards onto Jungkook’s mattress.

BAM!

“Holy !” Namjoon jumps up, rubbing the back of his head. He miscalculated the space needed and collided with the headboard on the way down.

“ hyung, be more careful will ya?” His roommate doesn’t bat an eye. He does, however, toss him an ice pack from the mini freezer by his bed.

ing brat.

“Thanks,” he says begrudgingly.

“Maybe your teacher has a point hyung. Film is more than just a medium for entertainment. Ever watched a reality TV show and cringed inwardly seeing the basest parts of human nature displayed in technicolor for all to see?” Namjoon nods, recalling an episode of The Bachelor that he had been forced to watch. Those women are vicious. “Have you ever heard of film therapy?”

“I think so, but I remember that being more about watching movies, not making them.”

“It is, mostly. But the form your Professor is suggesting is more a study of yourself through film.”

Namjoon nods his head, a quiet “Ahh,” stays tucked in his brain. “A good cameraman can bring out the true self of his subjects, with the right words, lighting and positioning.”

Namjoon’s mind goes haywire at the word “positioning.”

“Wait, what? Positioning? Is this like, like…” he looks around, and Jungkook’s eyes follow his, wondering what he’s possibly looking for since they’re in their dorm. He leans in and whispers, “a tape?”

“Ouch! What d’ did you do that for?” Namjoon’s rubbing his forehead after a fierce flick from his muscle bunny roommate.

“Because you’re an idiot,” Jungkook deadpans. “Why the hell would I suggest a tape for a school project ?”

Namjoon stares at his roommate. He wants to reply “because it’s you,” but his forehead is still throbbing and another flick from Jungkook’s steel-coated finger will for sure lead to a headache.

“Fine, let’s say my professor is right. How do I even do that? Where does one find a cameraman who will lead them to the land of self-awareness and vulnerability?”

“You never answered my question,” Jungkook says suddenly.

“What question?”

“What’d you do to get this ‘special’ assignment?” Jungkook makes air-quotes around the word, and Namjoon would punch him but that would most likely lead to Jungkook hitting back and nobody wants that.

“The thing is, what I mean, I feel like this is a gross misunderstanding…”

Jungkook cuts him off, “Stop trying to defend yourself and spit it out already.”

Namjoon often wonders who the eldest is. He’s long given up on convincing the younger man to use honorifics. If truth be told, he’s a little frightened of Jungkook. For one, he’s built like a Mack truck, all muscle and steel, and two, well, Namjoon’s willowy, like a birch tree, all limbs and branches but no match for a Mack truck.

“I’m getting to it,” he retorts. “We were having a class discussion about relationships and their impact on the brain and how it impacts us as humans, and I may have said, ‘You know that tingly little feeling you get when you like someone? That’s your common sense leaving your body.’ However, I fail to see how one comment defines my emotional depth. It was a joke for crying out loud.”

“I’ll never again wonder why you’re not getting laid,” Jungkook says so genuinely it has Namjoon furrowing his eyebrow in protest.

“I get laid.”

“Really, when? When was the last time?” Jungkook challenges.

“Uhmm, I’ve been, you know… okay fine. I’ve been laid before, are you happy now, Mr. Precisesty Mcshister?”

“Yes, very.” Jungkook laughs.

Namjoon pouts, this day is the worst day of his life. More so than the time he spilled hot coffee on his pants and proceeded to immediately remove them (because, you know, hot) all while forgetting the fact that he was standing in the middle of Starbucks. Yes, somehow standing in a crowded coffee shop wearing a t-shirt that read Bite Me, with pants gathered at his ankles and bright yellow and pink, Taylor The Creator, donut boxers briefs exposed ranked lower than this on his bad-day-list.

“Hyung, I kid because I care, you know that right?” Jungkook sounds concerned, and Namjoon looks up in surprise. “You do that a lot you know? Use humor or smart remarks to evade giving a true emotional response. And I get it, I really do. Probably better than anyone else, given our long history and my own personal aversion to the touchy-feelies.” Jungkook sighs.

Namjoon nods his head unconsciously. Jungkook does know him the best; the boy was there when Namjoon got his heart shattered and stepped all over by a pair of expensive studded, steel-toed boots. It’s not like he expected their love to last forever, they were in high school after all, but he at least thought it would have ended amicably. He wasn’t expecting hurtful words and even worse actions. He wasn’t expecting to be the laughing stock of his school, so much so that he missed his graduation in favor of starting college a few months early. While, some saw it as running away, he preferred to think of it as a fresh start. It dawns on Namjoon as he contemplates his past, maybe his professor and Jungkook are right. His past has left him scarred, and maybe, just maybe a little emotionally constipated (okay, fine, a lot).

“You really think film therapy can help?” He suddenly feels vulnerable, like a child, small and uncertain.

“It can’t hurt hyung,” Jungkook answers, and the mirth and sarcasm from earlier has melted into concern and warmth and maybe he’s not such a little after all. “You’ve gone through a lot, ya know? Sometimes hiding feelings is easier than being open to pain and hurt, but hiding keeps us away from love too, hyung.”

“Love can lie Kookie, and it hurts worse than death because you’re still alive and forced to live with it every day.” Namjoon runs a hand through his blonde-green locks. “ I sound like a Debbie Downer, sorry man. I-I, just – it doesn’t matter. I can’t afford to flunk this class over my supposed emotional crisis. Will you help me? Can you do the camera work?”

“I wish I could hyung, but I’m swamped. I’ll be lucky if I get to eat or sleep for the next few weeks. These advanced courses are kicking my , I swear. If it wasn’t just me trying to beat Kim Taehyung – damn it why does that kid bring out the competitor in me?”

“Because you like him, maybe?” It’s not a maybe and Namjoon knows it, but he also knows Jungkook needs to figure it out on his own.

“Take that back hyung, I do not!” The answer is quick, too quick. Namjoon holds back his laughter; he can’t wait for Jungkook to find out how wrong he really is.

“Fine. Believe what you want,” Namjoon answers with a shrug. “Anyway, do you know anyone that can help me?”

“Not off hand, but meet me on the third floor of the Arts building after your last class tomorrow. We have a students for hire board. We can start there,” Jungkook says.

“Thanks, Kook,” he says as he walks to the door.

“Hyung, I’m glad you’re doing this. I really think it will help break that wall you’ve built around your heart.”

Namjoon remembers why Jungkook’s his closest and most trusted companion. Despite his cold exterior and sailor-like vocabulary, the kid’s really warm-hearted and caring. Jungkook’s like a Cadbury Egg: hard on the outside but soft and marshmallow gooey on the inside. He’s loyal to the end and will fight both with and for the people he loves. Namjoon smiles, it’s official the brat’s not a little .

“Thanks again, Kookie.” He opens the door and is about to step out when Jungkook calls out again.

“Hyung, did you mean it? Do you think I like him, Taehyung I mean?” Jungkook looks frightened and Namjoon thinks maybe emotional constipation is contagious.

“Yeah, perhaps just a little.” He presses his thumb and his index figure to emphasize the size.

Jungkook sighs. “That’s a problem, a big ing problem.”

“It always is Kookie, it always is,” Namjoon says as he walks out the door .

Love , human uality , and professors who point out your in the middle of class are the iest of all. Namjoon bemoans his life as he walks to his bedroom. He prays that he’ll be able to find someone to help him pass his class, and yes, maybe deal with his deeper internal issues as well (but he’s not holding his breath). Namjoon’s not sure how watching himself on film will help, but like Jungkook stated prior, it can’t hurt.

It’s a beautiful day as Namjoon walks across the campus, his last class having just finished, he’s making his way to meet Jungkook. He wonders, not for the last time, if they’ll be able to find the right person. His phone buzzes, and the sensation has a tiny giggle escaping (he makes a mental note to turn down the vibration strength).

From: sailormouth 
Hyung meet me in class 
Running late

To: sailormouth 
K

Namjoon pulls his hoodie closer, shielding himself from the brisk, cool October air. He makes it to the Arts building a few minutes later. Once inside he slides the hood from his head and smooths (he hopes) his disheveled hair. Jungkook’s class is on the third floor, and he should take the stairs but opts for the elevator instead. The doors open a few moments later, and he pushes the number three and waits for the metals doors to shut.

The doors are about to shut all the way when a hand pushes into the tiny crack causing them to separate.

“Hey,” the stranger says as he settles across from Namjoon. The man’s voice is deep and scratchy, the tone reminding Namjoon of first waking up and exquisite .

D’?

“Hey,” Namjoon answers back, shaking his head at the odd thought.

He sneaks a peek next to him to take in the man’s visuals, but his face is covered by his oversized white hoodie. The first thing Namjoon notices is the man’s petite form. He’s not overtly short per se, but compared to Namjoon’s lanky frame the man looks almost child-sized. His build is slender, but judging from the tight blue jeans with strategically placed holes, the stranger is tone and lean, and Namjoon wonders what the man is hiding under the large sweatshirt. The ding of the elevator saves his mind from going where it shouldn’t. To his surprise, the tiny stranger follows him out of the elevator, and it’s then as the man lifts his arms to scratch his neck that Namjoon notices it… the hand.The stranger’s hand is pale and slender, with longer fingers and bulging veins, and Namjoon is mesmerized, so much so that he stops walking entirely, nearly forgetting why he’s come.

The stranger continues walking and Namjoon gets a strange feeling, as though he’s watching his future disappearing. He laughs at his ridiculous dramatics and wonders if Taehyung is rubbing off on him. He starts walking, the teeny stranger have long since disappeared. He finds the room number Jungkook had scribbled before leaving in the morning.

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls out as soon as he enters the room. He smiles and waves shyly, suddenly bashful as all eyes turn in his direction. “Everyone, this is Namjoon hyung. Hyung, this is the crew.”

A chorus of “hello” and “nice to meet you” follows, and Namjoon bows in response.

“Gimme a minute to pack up and then we’ll go look at the hiring board,” Jungkook says as he jams books and camera supplies into his already over-packed bookbag.

The door opens behind him, but Namjoon doesn’t turn around.

“Hey, did I leave my camera in here?”

Namjoon’s head nearly snaps off his body when a familiar husky, dark coffee voice has him turning on a dime. It is, however, unfortunate that he’s about as coordinated as a newborn giraffe because he promptly falls at the man’s feet with the thud of a large sack of potatoes. Namjoon can’t help but think that even this ranks higher than being nearly in Starbucks.

“D’?” The man even sounds hot when cursing, and Namjoon thinks life’s just not fair.

“Sorry hyung, “ Jungkook says as he rushes to Namjoon’s side, helping him up.

“Is he special needs or something?” the man asks quite sincerely, and Namjoon can’t even be offended.

“Nah, this hyung’s just clumsy is all,” Jungkook replies, and now Namjoon takes it back. He’s very, very offended.

“Yah!” Namjoon tugs at Jungkook’s ear once he’s in the upright position.

The man chuckles, and Namjoon may or may not have gasped out loud (he’s not copping to anything) at the gummy smile that overtakes the stranger's flawless face. The man levels his eyes on Namjoon’s face and Namjoon knows, he knows, the stranger heard, if the slight smirk that replaces the man’s gummy smile is any indication.

“You okay hyung?” Jungkook asks concerned.

“I’m good. Let’s go look at the board,” Namjoon says, moving the boy’s hand from his chest.

“K. You sure you’re okay?”

“Mmmm.”

Jungkook grabs his backpack, and Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief because they’re leaving, and Mr. My-smile-can-light-up-your-dark-heart will be left behind. Namjoon makes a plan to never come to visit Jungkook again, then he’ll never run into the tiny man with the perfect skin, and the come-hither stare, and the…

“Hyung, did you hear me?” Jungkook’s voice breaks him from his mind rant.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yes. I just figured out the right person to help you with your dilemma,” the younger man quips excitedly as though he’s just discovered gold.

Namjoon’s not sure why the feeling of dread comes over him, but he ignores it. That’s his first mistake. His second mistake comes not long after.

“Who?”

Namjoon begins looking around the room, and once again his eyes land on he of perfect skin, and perfect smile, and perfect… the man removes his hoodie and Namjoon gawks because what the , he has green hair. They’re hair soulmates, that has to be it, there’s no other logical explanation. They’re ing fated!

“Yoongi hyung,” Jungkook calls out.

When Mister Green-haired, flawless skin turns around and answers in his gruff scratchy voice, Namjoon does the only logical thing that can be done in moments like these. He gets the out of dodge. Because on no planet in this or any other universe will he be letting his guard down around someone who makes his heart beat faster than it’s supposed to and has him losing ALL his words.

֍֎֍

“You sure he’s not special needs?” Yoongi asks Jungkook as they both watch the tall blonde-green boy dart out of the room in the most spectacularly uncoordinated flailing of arms and legs that Yoongi has ever seen, like an inflatable air dancer on the side of the street, flapping uncontrollably in the wind.

“Special needs, no. Awkward as , yes.” Jungkook’s eyes are so wide with shock that Yoongi holds back the laughter that was threatening to escape. “You called me? What’s up?”

“I was going to ask you a favor for my hyung,” Jungkook says, his eyes still glued to the door his friend ran through just moments before.

“What’s the favor?” Yoongi asks tapping the boy on the shoulder bring him back to the present.

“I’m not sure if he deserves help after that performance. Then again maybe it’s a clear sign that he does.” Jungkook sighs and turns to face him.

“Did he almost fall on the way out?” Yoongi tries but can’t stop the smile this time around. That was indeed the best display of awkward fumbling that he’s seen to date, and he’s sorely disappointed that he didn’t have his camera in hand at the time. To record it, you know, for science (not because he found the tall man attractive in any way…nope, not at all).

“As his friend, I should say no, but as a human with eyes – Imma have to go with yes. It looked like he hit the door too on the way out. He’s gonna have quite the shiner in the morning.” Yoongi doesn’t feel too bad when Jungkook chuckles as well.

“So what does your very ungainly hyung need?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow, a slight smile still tugging on his lips.

“Film therapy,” Jungkook answers, and Yoongi just barely misses biting back his “what the ?” response.

“You want me to watch movies with him?” It’s not that he’s entirely opposed to the idea, but the man is rather clumsy and Yoongi surmises he may lose an eye or something.

“No. Not watching but filming.”

“Filming?” Yoongi scrunches his brows together, he’s heard about this form of therapy, but vaguely.

“Mmm. It’s a long story, and really it’s that hyung’s to tell. But if he’s still interested, would you be willing to follow him around and film him?” Jungkook is staring hard, and Yoongi’s not sure why the look feels like judgment.

Visions of the too tall man, with too many limbs (which seem to not communicate with each other) fill his mind. Yoongi recalls the man from his just shy of green almost blonde hair to the dimpled cheek he had witnessed as the man spoke to Jungkook. Yoongi won’t lie; he’s curious about the lanky stranger, and he thinks, Yep this will be fun.

“If he’s down then I’m in.” Yoongi may have answered too quickly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice or care so Yoongi decides it’s all good. “Give him my contact info, and let him know no pressure. If he’s still in need of a cameraman, I’m available.”

Jungkook nods. “Thanks, hyung. I’ll feel better if he is in the hands of someone I trust. That hyung may be older and smarter, but wiser he is not.” Jungkook’s words have Yoongi once again giving the boy a questioning look. Jungkook must notice. “He’s really innocent in a way that people don’t see. He trusts easily and gives easily, and despite how hard I try I always find myself protecting him. But I don’t think I’ll have to protect him from you, right hyung?”

Yoongi blinks, answer caught in his throat. The if I know kid.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi lies (or maybe not, it could be the truth).

“Good,” Jungkook says as he turns and walks away.

Yoongi watches as the younger man walks through the doors, leaving him in the room. Jungkook’s ‘good’ sounds ominous, like there’s a hidden threat behind the statement, and knowing the younger man there probably is. Yoongi smiles to himself, a little excited. He hopes Jungkook’s hyung says yes – something about the man tells Yoongi that glaringly bright camera lights will uncover all the man’s darkness, and Yoongi dearly loves fishing out people’s hidden darkness.

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