2.4

He remembered that the smell of smoke and weed was heavy, and he remembered being squeezed by the crowd as he struggled to look at the stage. Despite his height, there was nothing a thirteen year old could do to try and conquer a bit of space. But it was alright, that way maybe he would have gone unnoticed, because it was true that the Pub was alternative, but Namjoon was a bit too young to be there.

He also remembered the moment when it happened, how he had checked twice that same stage before believing his eyes, because over there, in front of him spitting rhymes like his life depended on it, there was a scrawny teenager holding a mic with white shaky fingers.

And all his plans had gone down the hill after that. It was decided. He had to stay.

It hadn't been his intention, in fact, to stay there for too long. Namjoon had just been curious to check this place that a couple of older kids at his school had mentioned with something akin to fascination, and that had been the reason why he had decided to sneak out of his room and go there. He had surprisingly succeeded in doing so, but he hadn’t wanted to challenge his luck too much, and if his mother had ever found out that he had been out of his bed at that hour, he would have been in great, deep trouble.

However, once he had seen that there was someone so young that he couldn't be too much older than him, being over that same stage Namjoon had been fantasizing for weeks, his feet had glued him in that spot and he had stayed till the end of the show in hope to hear that kid again. Unfortunately,he had just some other few lines in the last joint track, but Namjoon was happy he had stayed back regardless, the show had been great and it was going to be a memory he would treasure dearly, hoping one day to add to a more precious one.

It could be that his brain had just elaborated somewhat of a plan while  watching the show and for it to work, he needed that kid.

He had seen the latter step down from the stage as the crowd had slowly started to disperse, but Namjoon had stayed there in time to see him going into the back room from which Namjoon had sneaked in. The latter had found the door open and there had been so much confusion, that nobody had seemed to notice a boy getting in. So he had ran out of the pub and towards the alley that door lead to, staying there waiting.

The boy got out a couple of minutes after together with some other guys, but they walked away laughing and cheering, and it seemed like for them the night was still early and that was just the beginning of their fun. The boy stayed behind though, hands deepening inside his pockets in search of a lighter and a cigarette. Namjoon stepped out then, and the boy seemed startled by his tall silhouette and had squinted his eyes trying to understand if he was a danger or not. But as soon as Namjoon’s face was hit by the light coming from the door left open, the boy almost let out a snort. He lit the cigarette relaxing his shoulders.

“What is a kid like you doing at this hour, and in this place to begin with?” the other asked straightforwardly,  tone bored.

“I could say the same,” Namjoon shot back, glad to be at least tall since this boy managed to radiate such a tough air despite his tiny size. This time the boy snorted for real.

“I know how to kick you know, it doesn't matter if you are a head taller, brat,” he replied, glaring at him.

“Well you can kick me later, I just want to ask you something,” Namjoon said as the other turned towards him arching a brow, like he couldn't  believe the nerve of this brat, and if Namjoon was being honest with himself, he also didn't know where all that confidence was coming from.

“Teach me.”

“What?”

“You probably started from somewhere and you can't be too much older than me, so who’s better than you? Teach me!” Namjoon said, grabbing the other from his shoulders a bit roughly like it was something too important to let go. That was when the boy kicked him for real.

And that was also how he and Yoongi became friends.

Whenever Namjoon thought about that episode he couldn't help but feel embarrassed, he was so awkward and eager, and he didn't even know what he was asking.

“It's not something that can be taught, it's something you have, something that's in you,” Yoongi had told him that time, but didn't exactly shove Namjoon's request away.

Namjoon never knew what was that Yoongi had seen in him that night, but even if he hadn't said yes straight away, he let Namjoon come and greet him backstage and before they knew it, it had become a routine, Namjoon sneaking out in the night to watch the rap shows and Yoongi allowing him to hang out with him.

Their night encounters soon turned into afternoon hang outs and in the end, Yoongi did end up teaching him, even though Yoongi liked to talk about taking out what was already inside him. His older friend had been right all along of course. Because Namjoon had always had thoughts to express, words to say, so many that sometimes they got tangled inside his brain resulting in his temples aching and in horrible headaches. Writing them down helped him, but putting them in order for them to make sense was another thing. He didn't know that while trying hard to make those thoughts harmoniously fit over a  music track, he would end up making sense too.

And it was like finding the way back home after being lost for so long, it was like finally breathing pure air through his constricted lungs.

It had started all that night, it had started all with Yoongi, and Namjoon was grateful in many ways towards the elder even though he would never be able to express them properly, especially to his face, because Namjoon was an awkward mess and Yoongi was his constipated difficult self and he would never allow it. He would possibly end up being kicked again by the elder and Namjoon knew for experience that Yoongi kicked hard .

Yoongi, who liked to act though, Yoongi, who was cool and had rough edges, yet Namjoon knew there was so much softness under that hard surface. However, despite knowing that, and really, it wasn't that hard because whoever listened to his songs would have been able to realize that, Namjoon still had been so blind that, he had realized, he never really understood how deep his friend's emotions ran. Just how his songs and his way of acting was just a facade, and on top of that a fragile facade under which he so desperately hid his raw emotions and burning scars. He had been so stupid. He had been so caught up in his own misery that he had failed to notice from the start that if Yoongi was good at such a young age, being able to convey so much and in such beautiful songs so early in life, was because those words came from bruising experience and by a hurt heart much like Namjoon’s, or maybe even more.

He had always looked up at Yoongi and judged him strong because he was. But he was also as fragile as the persona he so much struggled to be.

Namjoon hated himself so much, wanted to beat himself so much, because despite knowing the truth that yes, Yoongi was aching, he had failed to notice how this aching had been breaking him all along.

He was the worst of friends, Namjoon thought as he dragged Yoongi out from the hall and in the dark but fresh night. They didn't go too far though, because Namjoon was still dressed fancy and even without a jacket he did attract a lot of curious gazes. So they quickly went inside a coffee shop, bought two steaming cups of coffee and went towards the nearest place that had some seats were to stop by for a chatting.

They were currently seated on the swings of a park, Namjoon sipping from the paper mug while he eyed Yoongi with concern. He had never seen him like this before, he wasn't even smoking like it was his habit whenever they were outside, he was just seated there shoulders slumped, swing barely moving with a sad sound. Namjoon didn't know if he had to ask or wait for Yoongi to open up, and he felt so useless and so powerless, but luckily his friend came to his rescue. Namjoon heard him sigh in resignation before opening his mouth and talk.

“I was born a number two, you know. People say we are the right kind of people and they also say we are lucky. I never thought I was right and I definitely never thought I was lucky. But there were some perks, I had to admit that. Being a two allowed me to never have to worry about choosing careers, I could love music, I could do music because I was free to do it. It was a little consolation but I held tight onto it because it was my only consolation. I hate them all Namjoon, for what they mean, for what they do every day to me, to the ones that are not like me. I can't accept being like that, to be put in the same category. So I didn't. It was easy to do it as I was young and my eighteenth birthday seemed so far away. It was easy to fool myself and convince myself I had time. That I had some sort of choice. But I didn't, you know we don't. And it was fine, I thought I could accept eventually to drown in my hate as long as I could continue to have that love, my music.” Yoongi smiled bitterly, and Namjoon knew he didn't  have to interrupt him with his questions despite having some, he knew that he had to listen because his best friend was about to unveil something, probably that something Yoongi had been upset about all those weeks but Namjoon had been too coward to ask. They were friends, they bonded over their love for music and even if they shared their pains through songs, they never actually talked about it and that probably had been their mistake all along. Because some things had to be said exactly like they were. No arrangement, no embellishment.

“Then he came,” Yoongi chuckled as he lowered his head, and his voice lowered too like he was caressing the memory with the tone of his voice.

“Then he came, and everything changed. I never knew I could desire something that wasn't music until I met him. Because he was so bright, so untouched by the ugliness of this world, so genuine, I just couldn't pass him by. I'm selfish. I'm ing selfish because even I know I shouldn't, even if I know he is not mine to have, I still couldn't bring myself to let him slip through my fingers. So I didn't, I intertwined our paths together so tightly and so strongly I can't lose the knot now even if I wanted. You see where I am heading, don't you? Because I did what I swore I would never do. I acted like a number two. I acted like every number two acts towards a number zero. With selfishness, and without regard.”

Namjoon felt his limbs going numb, and he looked at Yoongi unable to understand how a person so smart could do something so...

The latter stood up abruptly, and Namjoon tried to meet his gaze but Yoongi kept staring abashedly at the ground.

Namjoon shook his head.

Rule number one in the manual user guide of the numbers two. Never entangle yourself with a number zero, it can only cause unnecessary hurt and it can only end in one way. Badly.

Or that was what his mother had always recommended him to do and Namjoon had seen the logic in that. Personally, he had never engaged himself with numbers zero, mostly because he had little chances to do so, but also because he understood the lacks of the system that failed to protect their most vulnerable members. And if the system was flawed like Namjoon had been always convinced, then it was the duty of the individuals to do their best to correct that unfairness.

They were just number two, and number two was synonym of soulmate, not of perfect, no matter what the government wanted them to believe.

So yeah, numbers two did act on a whim and not always with the best intentions. Even if he could believe that his best friend hadn't had malicious purposes, Yoongi should have known better than let himself, but above all the other person, to willingly fall into waters he most likely would end up drowning in. Because Yoongi was a lot of things, but he wasn't heartless and he was the type to get closer only when driven by interest. And for Yoongi interest meant to care, like he had cared for Namjoon all those years. However, it was also true that for the elder it was all or nothing, but whether for Namjoon as a number two that hadn't constituted a danger, it had been a whole complete different story when that other person happened to be a number zero, someone who didn't belong to someone. Yoongi made the mistake to think that he could belong to him.

“I met my soulmate months ago. She is lovely. And she is much more than what I will ever deserve. But I don't love her, not in the way I know I can love. She is perfect, but she is not him. And I tried hard to think about a solution, about something, anything, but running away would mean giving up music and hurting her, but staying would mean giving up him, and I can't. I can't do that. How am I supposed to do that?” Yoongi said hysterically, and that was when the elder finally lifted his face and Namjoon saw it, saw what being at the bottom looked like.

“You love him,” Namjoon said closing his eyes for a brief moment.

“So much I think I'm losing my mind.”

“You should have let him go when you realized you loved him, hyung.”

“I know,” Yoongi spat out with anger, but not toward Namjoon, towards himself.

“And you should let him go now before it's too late.”

“I know that too.”

“But you won't do it,” Namjoon said, and it wasn't a question, he had understood that during Yoongi’s speech. Yoongi hadn't come looking for him for comfort or for a solution, because he knew too well what it had to be done. Yoongi had come just to–

“It won't end up well hyung. It can't. Because you are a number two and he is not, and even if he is not destined to anyone it doesn't mean he belongs to you.”

“I ing know, Namjoon!” Yoongi shouted then, and Namjoon knew Yoongi was wrong, so damn wrong, because he was hurting himself, hurting the person he loved, hurting the person he belonged to, but when Yoongi knees wobbled, Namjoon kneeled beside him and wrapped an arm around his trembling shoulders. Yoongi hadn't come in search of comfort or understanding because he knew too well what it had to be done.

He had come just to spit his heart out, even if it wouldn't have fixed anything.

“You know what's the worst thing? I got scouted Namjoon, I got scouted,” Yoongi said laughing, but Namjoon felt his shoulders trembling and he guessed why. He tightened his grip.

They stayed in that position for a long while, side by side.

Namjoon had come back when it was really late. He hadn't wanted to leave Yoongi, but he knew he was supposed to go back to the Kim residence and not somewhere else. Plus, Seokjin had been covering him and he didn't want to put him in more troubles than necessary. So he accompanied Yoongi at his house and went back with a taxi. Crawling back into his room had felt more difficult and heavy, because now he had a weight on his heart and he didn't know how to deal with it.

For a moment he almost feared that the window of his room could be closed, but luckily that wasn't the case. He climbed over the window, but when his foot touched the floor of his room, he saw that it wasn't empty. There, asleep in his bed with his suit still on aside for the jacket, was Seokjin. He had his cellphone in the loosened grip of his hand and he had his nose buried in Namjoon's pillow.

Namjoon’s heart stopped for a moment.

Numbers two. The algorithm system assigned to the most of them a person and that person was called soulmate. As a number two, one person had been assigned to him like it had been assigned to Yoongi yet could either of them even consider themselves happy or lucky?

He shook his head, it wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

Namjoon stepped inside, however he tripped over his own feet as he did so, resulting in him almost falling down face first and also waking up Seokjin.

Their eyes met, sleepy almond shaped eyes that met his equally tired ones. Seokjin rose up as soon as he realized it was Namjoon, bawling his eyes to try to disperse some sleep, hair ruffled and shirt all wrinkled. But even looking like that, Namjoon felt enough that, for a moment, he stood there in awe.

“You’re back,” Seokjin said, relieved.

“Yes, sorry if I’m late. I didn't want Yoongi to go back to his house by himself,”

Seokjin nodded, yawning a bit.

“How is he?” he asked, and Namjoon looked at him like he was evaluating his soulmate, but he just saw genuine concern and he felt bad to have ever doubted Seokjin’s kind heart. Yet, he couldn't exactly tell him everything.

“He is not feeling well.” Namjoon replied, and the elder understood that he wasn't going to add anything else. Besides, even if Seokjin had known Yoongi enough for Namjoon to feel comfort in sharing his best friend's secrets with him, he didn't know if he would actually find the right words to do it. There hadn't been so many times in which he had felt so lost. This one was one of those. A long silence stretched and Namjoon saw the elder move uncomfortably under his gaze, that was when he realized he had been staring at him too intensely.

“I guess you are tired Joonie,” Seokjin added, getting up awkwardly. “Sorry for falling asleep here, I just didn't know if someone would come up to check on you, but I thought that if they had known I was here they wouldn't come, so I stayed,” Seokjin blushed as he admitted that, “Tomorrow we will probably get some looks, sorry for that.”

“Hyung, it's fine. Thank you for covering up for me,” Namjoon said, stepping closer to the elder, enough to be able to notice how the cushion had left some crease on the other cheek.

But Seokjin smiled tightly and stepped back. Namjoon looked at him puzzled.

“I’ll let you rest. Good night, Namjoon. And happy birthday again,” Seokjin said before stepping back all the way to the door and exiting, leaving him alone. The younger stood there for a long moment, staring at the door trying to understand if there was something he was failing to realize, but his brain scanned quickly all the facts of the day and he found nothing.

He shook his head, and suddenly all the exhaustion of the day fall on him at once. He flopped on the bed, too tired to even get out of his expensive clothes, body dead on the mattress and head buried in the pillow.

He had just the time to notice it smelled good, like Jin, before succumbing to the darkness.

The following days were strange days. After his birthday he had Yoongi back, the latter had started to text him again even though his texts looked more like disconnected pieces and erratic words than actual messages, but it was nice to be friends again even if the time wasn't a lucky one. Namjoon would have liked to have a basis for comparison, but he was young and inexperienced and despite his effort, he didn't know what to say to his best friend most of the times.

Loving someone like that. Loving someone like a desperate man. Namjoon couldn't understand that, because he had never gone through a love so blinding so unattainable, hence he couldn't understand Yoongi.  

He really wished to be able to talk with someone for once, it was a truth too heavy to face by himself, but he didn't know with whom. He had even taken into consideration the eventuality to tell Seokjin, but every time they were left alone and he was about to talk something stopped him. He knew Seokjin would listen because he was Jin and he was kind, however, the new sense of coldness coming all of a sudden from his number one, didn't help to ease Namjoon doubts. He had been the one reluctant since the beginning and even now it was hard for him to come to terms with the situation, but Jin has always been the one sure between them and he was starting to understand now that it was probably what kept Namjoon grounded. Yet, suddenly something shifted, subtle and almost unnoticeable, but he had been observing people all his life, it was his hobby as a child, so he recognized a forced smile when he saw one. Above all when it was on Jin's face, who used to smile wholeheartedly.

What the heck was happening to all the people close to him? He looked at his book annoyed, like it was its fault that he had been reading the same sentence for above half an hour.

He couldn't understand Yoongi, he couldn't understand what was going on in Seokjin's mind.

People used to tell him all the time how smart he was but how come he felt so stupid? So useless. He exited his room, suddenly feeling more suffocated than ever and went outside in the garden of the Kim mansion to breathe some fresh air. Maybe he needed some distraction, maybe later he could take a bus and visit his family. His mother would be happy to see him and maybe, surrounded by his family, he could soothe his heart and think about a time when all seemed so simple.

It hadn’t even been a year, yet it felt like a lot of time had passed.

Namjoon had always known life wasn't' simple, hadn't he known since the beginning just how wrong the setting of the reality was? But one thing was knowing, the other was experiencing it first hand and see the ones he loved go through it. The ones he loved. His family, that was missing him, Yoongi. Seokjin?

Just as he stepped on the perfectly cut and green grass of the garden, he saw his soulmate laying down on his back with open arms and closed eyes, gingerly enjoying the sun. Namjoon hesitated.

He looked so peaceful that he didn't want to interrupt him, but like always it wasn't something that he could really avoid. Every time one of the two stepped in the same place as the other, there was an attraction too great and too irresistible that glued them together, and their eyes would always meet and their skin would always hitch for the sudden urge to touch. It wasn't rational, Namjoon thought, there was no algorithm that could explain that, and those were the moments in which Namjoon found his skepticism unfounded.

Seokjin opened his eyes and turned his head slightly towards him.

“Sorry, did I bother you?”

Seokjin raised an arm to cover his eyes from the hitting sun and shook his head.

“Of course not,” he replied, and Namjoon sensed his sincerity and that was why he dared to sit next to him, merely some inches away. For a moment it felt like everything was alright.

“Are you worried about something, Joonie?” Seokjin asked like he already knew the answer, “Are you worried about Yoongi?” he continued.

“Yes, among the other things.”

“Are you worried about other things?” Seokjin asked, suddenly concerned. Namjoojn wanted to hide. Yes, I've been worrying about myself, about my future, I've been worrying about you.

“Hyung, have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn't have?” Namjoon asked suddenly.

“Is this about Yoongi?” Seokjin asked after a while with a strange tone. The younger eyed him but didn't answer.

Seokjin rose up to sit cross legged exactly like Namjoon. He sighed.

“Yes,” he replied, but much more like Namjoon that night when he had come back from his little rendezvous, he didn't add anything else. Namjoon wanted to ask what, why, how come he could feel his sincerity, how come someone that had had everything from life could understand that so well.

Could Seokjin really understand him if he dared to open him his heart to him?

Namjoon got shaken by a sudden feeling, his skin itching for the urge to touch, to do something. He covered his hyung’s knee with the palm of his hand, leaning on a bit. Seokjin looked at him startled. “Hyung?” But whatever words Namjoon would say, they didn't have the time to come of his mouth, because the sudden noise of a door and of steps approaching interrupted them.

Namjoon, however, didn't retreat his hand even when the maid stopped close by. Like Seokjin had predicted, they did get more stares after they saw Seokjin step into Namjoon's room, but nobody dared to ask or show anything, besides at that point wasn't it considered natural? As far as the others knew, they were two legal soulmates, it was a wonder they weren't over each other. Another of their oddity, Namjoon thought.

“Mr. Kim wants to talk with you,” the maid said as soon as she stepped in their piece of garden. They both held their breath and made their way to stand up.

“Oh, not you young heir, he asked for Namjoon’s presence,” the maid said politely. Namjoon sent a puzzled gaze towards Seokjin, but the latter seemed more puzzled than him and his expression kept darkening with every passing second.

“I'll be waiting here Namjoon,” Seokjin said, before the younger could get too far.

Namjoon nodded, trying to smile. There were countless of details that weren't piecing together and a lot of thoughts going around in his mind as well as many words itching to be said, but that wasn't the time.

He gave his back to Seokjin and followed the maid inside the mansion.

It wasn't rare for him to talk with Seokjin's parents, especially the first consul. He seemed, in fact, to have taken an interest in him, and Namjoon knew it was understandable, he, after all, was the companion of his son, the heir of the title. It was reasonable he wanted to know Namjoon and spend time with him, considering the big role the younger had been called to play.

However, Namjoon didn't trust him, he couldn't. The whole age arrangement was something decided by the Kim's head, it was his the imposition of starting his life as a Kim as a liar, it was his idea to have him enrolling into an economic faculty, and Namjoon felt like he had been playing on a board game since the beginning but he wasn't the player and he didn't know the rules either.

So it was with a guarded heart that he walked towards the Kim head office, because so far all the words that had come from that mouth that were directed towards him, hadn't been something he had liked.

He knocked on the closed door and he heard a distinctive low, “come in” coming from the other part. He took a sharp breath.

“Oh Namjoon, it's you, come in,” Namjoon silently stepped inside, a bit baffled because wasn't he the one who had called him in the first place? So why act like Namjoon had stumbled there by coincidence?

There was nothing of Mr. Kim that reminded him of Seokjin and that was a bad thing because he didn't have elements to try and read that face and a good thing because there was no frown inherited by Seokjin, and the way Seokjin's face opened into a warm smile would always be something that would be solely of Jin.

“They told me you wanted to talk to me, sir.”

“Namjoon, don't be so formal with me, we are family now,” Seokjin's father said as he invited the younger to sit in the chair on the other part of the wooden desk.

“So, you are older now. I know it was probably a new thing for you, but I hope you enjoyed your birthday party. Seokjin told me you didn't feel too well after.”

“Ah yeah, I guess I just got tired, like you said I'm still not used to this kind of events,” Namjoon replied lamely.

“It's understandable, completely understandable. I believe you'll get used to those very fats though, you are a smart kid after all,” the older said kindly, but Namjoon still felt it like a jab, and once again he just nodded without saying a word.

“Anyway, I wanted to have a talk with you. Now that you are older and you got used a bit to our life, I think it's time you start to get more involved in our affairs. You know we are the Kim family and Seokjin is the heir to the consul title. He already knows what is expected from him, I wish he would be more naturally inclined to this role, but he is a bright kid, and everybody seems to like him. It's not a bad quality when it comes to politics,” Seokjin's father said, and once again the apparent kind words were said with an intent that seemed to have much more purpose than what they appeared. Namjoon didn't like it, not even a bit

“That's why I'm happy he has you as his life long companion. Seokjin has a lot of qualities but like everyone, he has things he could do better and things he is not able to do. Often he misses to look at the general picture and he is a bit naive,  he attaches himself to the small details and ignores the rest. You are different Namjoon, and it's a blessing to our house.  My number one, Seokjin's mother had been not only a lovely companion, but also a source of strength that has helped throughout the years. Hard times are coming into the horizon and you need to play your part as well, for the Kim family and for the future of its heir as well.”

“I admire Seokjin hyung a lot,” Namjoon retorted, ignoring the last part, because a person like Seokjin could only be a blessing for the institution. Despite all his horrible doubts towards the whole soulmate thing, there he was, defending his number one. No, he was defending Seokjin for who he was as a person, and not because he was his soulmate.

“Good to know, good to know. That's why starting from next week I want you to come spend more time with me. I know you have your lessons, I already checked your schedule and organized it according to your activities. Seokjin will come with us most of the times, but sometimes it will only you and I, our entourage.”

“I see.” Namjoon didn't know what to do, he felt a rope tightening around his neck and he knew he didn't have room to protest, to say anything. He didn't like this man even though he was the father of Seokjin and even if he was now family, and possibly because of that, because he didn't feel fatherly at all.

The man then stood up and motioned Namjoon, to do the same. “I want to show you my personal library Namjoon, and maybe we can talk a bit more and then I swear I'll  let you go, I don't want to bore you since day one,” the man said, always with a polite tone as he put a hand over his shoulder, like a claw of a predator, and guided him outside the room. Namjoon looked at the clock on the wall, hoping it wouldn't take too much time because even if he hadn’t promised anyone there was somewhere else where he had to go.  

“By the way, how much do you know about the algorithm Namjoon?” the man asked him as they walked together down the corridor and guided him towards another part of the big mansion.

The sun wasn't so high in the sky anymore, and Namjoon knew it had been barely more than an hour, but to him it had felt eternal like some of his lessons. Unnecessary, painful and something that left him so empty. He wanted to bury himself in his songs and his music and forget the look in Seokjin's father eyes. Yet, his feet took him once again towards the garden, towards that corner where Seokjin had been lying so gingerly and peacefully like there was nothing better than enjoying the rays of the sun over his skin.

Namjoon walked quickly, but when he arrived, Seokjin wasn’t there and he felt something akin to disappointment mixed with so many other emotions Namjoon knew one day they would end up drowning him.

“Sir, when can I say the truth to Seokjin?”

The man had looked at him, coldly even when the tone used was polite and controlled.

“Not yet,” he said closing the argument, but to Namjoon had sounded too much like a never.

Lies, secrets, oddities, and a lot of things Namjoon couldn't accept, that was his life with Seokjin and no matter how much he tried to make the pieces fit each other, they didn't.

“Namjoon,” the younger turned immediately at that voice, the voice that belonged to Seokjin.

“Sorry, since you were taking a bit I went inside to take a book with me and maybe try to study,” Seokjin said smiling slightly. He was there, red cheeks from the sun and some remnants of grass in his hair, but he still looked so right. Namjoon smiled, and doing something he never did before, he took a step forward without giving the other the chance to step back like he had come lately, and, without thinking too much, he covered the other's lips with his.

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