2.5

Contrary to what one might have imagined, especially considering the skepticism that he had always shown against the soulmates and the flawed assignment scheme, Namjoon had had very little experience in the love department.

He had always been too taken by himself, his thoughts and his music, to indulge in the curiosity and temptation of trying to see how it felt like to physically approach someone. As to emotional closeness, Namjoon could not even think of even trying that, the risk of losing control over what should not be chosen was too high and it was too senseless and crazy to believe that there could be no consequences of taking that path.

His friend, Yoongi, was an unlucky example.

In short, ultimately, Namjoon had never kissed anyone before Seokjin.

And all the kisses that had followed that first kiss since the day of the introduction, in which the elder had pressed his lips on his with so much naturalness and calmness, had never been and idea from Namjoon’s part. It had always been Seokjin who had started every physical contact.

Namjoon had often asked himself if this physical inactivity could be considered a real or an induced idiosyncrasy, if it were his principles to curb him, or if there was something tangible that was preventing him from being more active. The fact that a part of him wanted to believe that their union had been a glitch in the system was an element that had always suspended his judgment.

The suspicion that it was only a badly concealed fear of giving up, was something that he couldn't get out of his head, because what would he have been if he didn't have his principles to keep him standing?

There are worse destinies, Namjoon liked to think as he tried hard to rationalize with himself. There are worse destinies than having to give up what you want.

However, despite the shadow that had fallen on him and didn't want to leave him alone, the more time passed and as the days spent with Seokjin's company were accumulating one behind the other, the more Namjoon began to think that even if half of him was killed, at least the other could have had Jin.

After all, it was undeniable that there was something recondite, and why not, romantic also, into preserving every part of you for your soulmate. If from the beginning Namjoon had been able to look inside himself better and to go beyond his prejudicial skepticism, he would have immediately realized that a capitalization of his feelings was inevitable.

So in that moment of absolute perfection, in which Seokjin had looked at him with all his affectionate benevolence, Namjoon could not help but lean forward and capture his lips into a searing kiss, the first he had initiated.

There had been a sense of satisfaction, as if all his body had enjoyed that moment of surrender, euphoria exploding in his brain as he felt Seokjin's lips move against his, while a crazy need to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, burnt inside him.

He wondered how Seokjin would have looked like if he had lied down on that same grass and had looked at him, blushed cheeks and wet lips waiting for him.

It was then that his hand, as if it had moved on his own will, pushed Jin's shoulder gently, and before he realized their perspectives shifted, and the elder had ended up on his back looking at him from below with a slightly astonished look, caged by the younger's body. Namjoon watched him astonished as well, because that wasn't really what he had in mind (though God only knew what he had in mind). It was as if every time he had opposed to the attractive electric current that existed between them, had accumulated just to burst in that moment, as his body acted demanding, claiming contact with Seokjin.

"Namjoon," the elder whispered, and Namjoon had kept looking at him as hypnotized as the hand of the other rose to his cheek trying to bring him back from his stupor.

It worked. Because it was then that he realized the situation in which he himself had put them. The elder looked at him with the same gentle look he always reserved for him, but his body was stiff in a noticeable pose of rejection.

Namjoo gasped.

It was like getting kicked in the stomach, realizing that he was not the only one to have doubts and uncertainties and that maybe there was a chance that it had been like that for a while. But since when?

Namjoon immediately released the elder, shaken by the revelation. Seokjin rose up slowly, and the younger felt his gaze settle heavily upon him. With the corner of his eye, he saw the hand of the elder rise as if he wanted to caress him, just to fall inert back on his side.

"Let's go," Seokjin suggested shortly afterward, getting up and offering his hand to Namjoon to help him get up. Namjoon was still red in face, and even though there was nothing that could betray what Jin was thinking at that moment, their hands unclasped as soon as the younger stood up, and even though they walked side by side, not even half a meter apart from each other, suddenly there seemed to be too much space between them.

What had happened in those few moments when they had ascended and then fell down sadly to the ground? Because it was obvious that Namjoon had failed yet again to notice details, his deductive abilities, of which he used to be so proud of, falling short.

It had always been evident to him that they were two bad assorted pieces, because there couldn't be more different people than them meant to be together, and now that he finally had some sort of evidence of his suspicions, why the thought pained him instead of making him feel satisfied?

The way Jin had looked at him had tormented him all night and the coming of the dawn did not help sweep away his sense of loss, because when Namjoon finally sat in the dining room for breakfast, he did found Jin's kind smile, but also some embarrassment in his gestures, and a slightly sliced courtesy that was too much of the Kims and too little of Jin, and Namjoon wished he would no longer hear Seokjin use that tone of voice with him, even though he had only asked the younger to pass him the butter.

He suddenly wished to talk with his soulmate in private and try to have a sincere conversation with him, but he then painfully realized that it wasn't something they had done often, and the thought kind of saddened him a little. Furthermore, it was the first day he would have to spend with the consul Kim and Namjoon didn't know what to expect, and also when he would find a suitable chance to talk to the elder.

He tried to reassure himself by thinking that at least he had to spend time with Seokjin, since the consul Kim had assured him that his son would be present at most of their encounters. However, as soon as they finished their breakfast and were dismissed, Namjoon found himself alone in the long corridor that led the way from his dependance to the part of the villa where the Kims spent most of their time, and he had continued to be alone even when the waitress had finally made him accommodate in the library where Mr. Kim had made him do a short tour the other day.

Namjoon told himself that he was ready, that he had been warned of this eventuality, but could not help but feel lost and resolutely caught off guard. He once again realized how much he had counted on Seokjin's positive presence.

Namjoon would gladly have the chance to have a face to face with his brain and figure out exactly what exactly had gone wrong.

At that moment someone knocked at the door and then stepped inside the room. Namjoon clumsily got up from the chair where he was sitting, thinking it to be Mr. Kim (secretly hoping it was Jin).

He certainly wasn't expecting an unknown stranger. It was, in fact, a woman in her thirties, whom the younger vaguely remembered to have seen among the Kim's entourage.

Perplexed, Namjoon stood up, keeping still and waiting. Fortunately, he was spared the task of breaking the ice.

"Good morning Namjoon, I'm Miss Choi, one of Kim's consul collaborator. The consul this morning had an important meeting, and he then commissioned me to start introducing you into what your future tasks will be," she said with a gentle voice and impeccable smile. Namjoon told himself that he should have expected it, that he could not have expected for the consul Kim, the most committed man of the nation, to dedicate time to him, Kim Namjoon, even if he was the number one of the heir and hence his son-in-law. Even though the fact that he did not have to spend time with him was kind of a relief, it also disturbed him at the same time.

He always had the horrible impression that the words of the consul were most of the time vain.

"Where is Jin?" he asked, because this was another one of the things that were bothering him.

"The young heir is attending his lessons like every morning," Miss Choi continued as though it were almost nonsense that Namjoon would ask. Of course, he thought, but he had classes too, and yet he did not go, he was in that room with a stranger to do God knew what, and it all looked like a strange laboratory experiment.

"I don't know if the consul Kim has ever told you why you're here and why you need to learn as much as possible, but in that case, I'll be happy to explain everything clearly and exhaustively," the young woman continued without stopping smiling even for a moment. That was a smile that didn't know pain, what they said was the smile of a number two, the people who had reached a state of blessed completeness. It cannot rain in the presence of the sun, so you couldn't be sad in the presence of your soulmate. Yet Namjoon didn't remember having ever smiled widely since the Kims had entered his life.

"Yes, it seems that everyone has tried to point it to me from the beginning," Namjoon replied, suppressing a sigh as he sat back on the chair and reconsidered the words that were said, not even to him, by the two lawyers the day they plunged into his house.

"Namjoon's training is important because it's important to the role your son is going to cover."

Those were the words with which they had justified the putting into motion of the plan that followed. The moving out, the imposed choices, the lies, including the biggest lie of all, the one Namjoon had been forced to tell his soulmate, with whom he was supposed to share everything.

But in that house, among those walls, there were so many things left unsaid, and everyone was able to mask their feelings and thoughts so well that Namjoon often wondered if he didn't end up in a dramedy show, where everyone had agreed to recite their lines when required. In a sense, the younger could understand how important it was to keep the emotions and feelings in control when it came to politics, but it was sad to realize how this was dragged even inside the home walls.

Even by Jin.

He had always thought that the elder was an exception, that there were no clouds in his sky, however, Namjoon was beginning to think that Jin was more stratified than what he had given him credit and that he had taken him too much for granted.

"The Kims are a Consul family, of first-grade, Namjoon. Though the weight of the state does not rest entirely on the shoulders of the two consuls, because the founding fathers in their wisdom had created guarantee bodies, including our benevolent senate, the role played by the consuls is crucial. Each number one of a Kim heir, Mrs. Kim included, went through the same preparation," added Miss Choi and Namjoon had to fight the urge to raise a skeptical eyebrow. Seokjin's mother, though more affectionate and more normal than the consul would have ever been, did not seem to have any political weight or interest in the consulate.

"Ours is the best possible world and the Senate together with the consuls work to maintain the status quo, but despite during the years many blemishes had been blunted, many things still need to be done. The role of those working servicing the state is to work for the common interest, even when the community does not understand where it resides. Never heard of the expression, hold the helm of the government? Consider the state as a ship and its consuls like the helmsmen of this ship they must drive into the right direction. Violence or force are not viable options, so very often politics is, in fact, only a matter of trust and credibility. First consul Kim is a genius of politics, however, we can say he lacks those qualities that make his proposals appealing, and this is where Mrs. Kim comes into the playground. Probably many unpopular laws would have been welcomed with less favor if Mrs. Kim did not put her face on them. Concepts as perception and image, although superficial, are important. The Kims are not just a consular family, but they represent all the numbers two and as such they must always give the example.”

Namjoon didn't know exactly what he could say to rebut that. It was obvious that Miss Choi was very devoted to the Kim family, and though Namjoon rationally understood her words, what she had implied with them was enough to give him a headache.

If he were to be allowed to be himself for a moment, he would have willingly rolled on the floor in protest.

Perhaps his reaction was exaggerated, perhaps, after all, it was simply the inevitability of growing up and becoming adults and learning to take on your responsibilities, and it did not matter if he was only sixteen, Namjoon was used to being dragged ahead of time in the stages of life.

However, he wasn't naive, and Namjoon had seen enough to know that even in their gloriously perfect world, things were still gained with effort and sacrifices. He just didn't know that becoming an adult would mean giving up everything he had always wanted, for something he understood but could not see the worth of.

"Seokjin has prepared for this role all his life while you will have to start now. I know it's hard to adapt but we all believe in you and in your capabilities. With preparation, you will be the perfect shoulder of the next consul," concluded the young woman and Namjoon knew once again that there was no smart answer that he could say to dampen her enthusiasm.

"What do you mean with preparation?" he asked, resisting the urge to pass a hand over his face. It was early in the morning and the perspective of all this was making him feel tired already.

"I'm glad you asked me," she said with even more enthusiasm. She had a gentle face, and she did not address Namjoon with that arrogance he had often seen on the faces of the consular staff, as if he were a task to dismiss and not a real person, yet she was also his teacher and, at the same time, his supervisor and Namjoon could never find her presence reassuring because he knew that, after all, her salary was paid by the first consul.

"The first consul Kim has recommended that you are informed of resolutions and laws in the Senate. However, he also wants you to focus mostly on soulmates’ studies and my job is to inform you as much as possible about it," Namjoon looked at her with a genuine curiosity for the first time since she stepped inside that room. The consul seemed obsessed with a topic he found unpleasant for a variety of reasons.

"I understand," Namjoon answered laconically, closing his eyes briefly and sighing inside. "Now if you want to follow me, we have a lot to do.”

The younger followed her into the deserted hallway from whose windows he could see the car which usually carried him and Seokjin, but that morning it wasn't waiting for him.

Miss Choi took him to that part of the yard where it was parked, and it was then that Namjoon noticed a second car, the door opened in perfect synchrony with his arrival.

"Where are we going?" asked Namjoon, grabbing the door tightly. He felt like a package tossed here and there and he wanted to know at least this time around where they were heading to.

"To the parliament chambers," she said, throwing at him another brilliant smile. Namjoon took the blow and, without saying another word, entered the luxurious car photocopy of who knows how many other cars at the service of the Kim family. Namjoon let himself slide into the seat and almost automatically turned to look at the rear window in the direction of the mansion. The car started to move though, and just when he thought he wouldn't come out, Seokjin appeared in the garden.

Namjoon saw him stopping in the middle of the path and look in his direction with a look so different from the affectionate Jin, that the younger almost felt the strange impulse to stop the car and run to hug the other. He tried to make a sign with his hand but then remembered that the car had darkened windows and that the older couldn't see him.

The car drove away quickly and Seokjin disappeared from his sight, but Namjoon was frozen in that same position.

"Kidnap me."

Namjoon had written this to Yoongi a few days later when his headache had been so severe that he had only the strength to drag himself from the mansion's entrance to his bedroom, where he had jumped onto his bed to lay there and never rise up again. He had been vaguely aware of the fact that at one point a waitress had come to call him for dinner, but he had tried, as best as he could, to tell her that there was no way he was going to stand up.

So Namjoon laid there, sunken head in the pillow that didn't smell of Jin anymore.

They had been intense days, college classes, lessons with Miss Choi, his head was full of notions that Namjoon couldn't understand the usefulness of, but that his brain still stored in because who knows, maybe the law proposals promoted by the Kim family in the last fifty years could be useful to him, to Seokjin, in some remote future.

Seokjin .

He had not seen him for a few days except for breakfast, and the atmosphere had been weird and unnatural. Sure there had always been shyness between them, but never distance.

If he had really wanted though, he could have walked down the long hallway that separated them and go see him. And before that incident in the garden, maybe he would have done it, but now there was a veil of embarrassment and fear, that was not there before, along with the horrible feeling that maybe Namjoon wouldn't be so welcomed.

You have opposed this bond from the beginning and now that you realized that you weren't the only one with concerns, you dare to complain? His brain suggested. Namjoon snorted on the pillow, hugging it as he rolled on his side. Had it been always like that? He couldn't believe that the affection with which Seokjin had taken his hands in his and had looked at him the first time they had met, had been fake, that the way he kissed him wasn't sincere.

No, he still sensed that affection in Seokjin, there was still kindness and warmth when he asked, "did you sleep well?” at breakfast. But there was also something else that wasn't there before and Namjoon wanted to understand what.

Having Seokjin meant having the Kims, and Namjoon knew it too well as the reason why he had been angry with his soulmate all along. But now that he had an idea of the weight that Seokjin had always carried, the younger recognized his unfairness by denying the little comfort his soulmate had expected to find in him.

"I'm happy to have met you," Seokjin had told him. Namjoon could not return those words, maybe he could never, but he knew not seeing Seokjin, that silence that stood between them as a wall, was not an option anymore.

And it was a paradox, because Seokjin was also his family and, although the idea still was unbearable, Namjoon knew he cared for Jin.

Maybe something more.

This was a difficult thing to deal with. That's why ignoring his duties, and the documents he should have studied but laid forgotten on the desk instead, he had sent Yoongi the message in the hope he had a plan, something to propose, because the music was not only for him but also for his head, and because he needed to see a friendly face.

"Only if you kidnap me too." his friend answered laconically a few minutes later.

A smile spread over his face but it faded quickly. Yoongi had come back and he was the usual grumpy Yoongi, but Namjoon knew something had changed. During the breaks of his life full of things to do, Namjoon did his best to listen to the songs Yoongi sent him by mail and give him his opinion.

That night when he had missed their performance, his friend was noticed by the talent scouts of a record company. Yoongi had already signed a pre-agreement that included some type of promotions and more performances in different venues mostly to gain more experience. But he wasn't a signed artist with an actual all-around contract, they wanted Yoongi to graduate first, then to go under some training in the company, and ultimately to produce enough songs for a marketable album.

Namjoon was glad that for his best friend what could have turned into a disaster, had turned into an opportunity instead. And though it was hard to believe, he wasn't jealous of his success because he had been listening to Yoongi for quite some time to know that if there was someone who had a musical talent, that was him. He couldn't, however, hide a bit of disappointment when he tried to imagine what would have happened if he had succeeded to be on time.

Nothing, probably, he thought with a bit of bitterness, because even if it had happened, the odds that this would change his destiny, that could count something for the Kim family, were none to nonexistent. So at least he was glad that one of them had succeeded in reaching the goal of their childhood dreams. Ironically, his contentment, though embittered by all these conflicting feelings, seemed to be far superior to those of Yoongi.

They had met only once after Yoongi had broken down and they had mostly kept in touch by phone, but Namjoon had recognized sadness in his voice, in his music. As a friend, he didn't know what to say because his opinion went against any decision Yoongi had taken, but one thing he knew: Yoongi was no longer the same. That new, fragile Yoongi, that had emerged that night, hadn't gone away.

The positive thing in all of this was that at least both of them had an even safer escape. Yoongi had made sure that the younger could attend his events, if not as an artist, at least as a friend who could visit the backstage and watch performances. A godsend for Namjoon, who wanted nothing more than getting lost in the music and forget everything, the Kims, the lessons.

Jin.

Jin ignoring him, Jin keeping his distance. Namjoon shook his head trying not to think exactly why that was hurting him.

That night Yoongi had a performance at a well-known pub for new artists and the older had invited Namjoon, so as soon as he got the message with the hour and location, Namjoon ran for the window. Getting out of the villa was no longer so difficult and neither so frightening. Namjoon hadn't certainly become more agile and his movements didn't get smoother, but at least he gained some boldness, and he didn't know how healthy or reasonable that was, but he was now able to keep his cool when he passed his magnetic card to get out of the service door. Namjoon wondered several times if entries and exits were somehow recorded on a device, but he kept his ears open and nobody whispered anything suspicious. He was convinced that the problem, after all, was not so much as going out but getting in, besides only trusted people had that magnetic key.

The problem would only arise if someone went to his room and they didn't find him, but he doubted that someone thought he really had a place to escape and the only one that could really find out was Seokjin. But Seokjin was keeping his distance and it would not be a problem, he told himself with disappointment.

Namjoon went to the usual bus stop, which he now knew well, to take the last bus to the city center. He was quite sure that he could go back to the mansion smoothly, someone in their circle of acquaintances would be present and he could ask them for a lift.

He covered his head with the hood of his favorite sweater, the one he had used often when he was at home, but that the Kims considered appropriate merely as pajamas. He stepped on the bus once it arrived and sat down, and with hands in his pockets, knees picking out from his torn jeans and a faded gray sweater, he felt like nothing but an anonymous boy.

Namjoon looked out from the window at the city lights.

It’s nice feeling like myself for once , he thought before wearing his earphones and relaxing to the sound of music.

The venue where Yoongi would perform was big and there was a lot of people pooling outside. A thrill of excitement ran down Namjoon's backbone, and he wasn't even one of the singers who would perform. He liked to be part of the frenzy, the palpable energy that preceded the performance though, the adrenaline, the expectation, the laughter and the friendly pats on the shoulders. Yoongi had told him that it would be enough to say his name to the bouncers who would allow him to enter without asking to check his ID, which was a relief considering this place was new and he couldn't count on the friendship of Yoongi with the owner.

Just as Yoongi had told him, Namjoon had no trouble entering, not a word on his appearance or his young face from the bouncers, and Namjoon slipped inside, the pub slowly filling. He passed the groups of people and walked through the corridor by the dance floor that led to a door behind the stage where Yoongi had told him was the backstage.

The backstage was crammed with people as well, many old acquaintances and other new faces, but Namjoon barely greeted them, looking for Yoongi instead.

Yoongi was there, seated on one of the grungy chairs standing in front of a mirrored wall in what would most probably be a dressing room. But Yoongi wasn't looking at his reflection to fix his looks, he was seated there arms crossed, staring at the thin air, cell phone tight in a grip.

"Yoongi," Namjoon called him, staying away, clumsy but motionless.

The elder turned to look at him, returning to his senses at the sight of his friend.

"Thank god, I was starting to get bored," the elder replied with his usual tone, trying to get back to their usual dynamics. Namjoon took a chair and sat next to him.

"You're among a lot of artists and I'm sure your manager is somewhere, you can't possibly get bored hyung," Namjoon said, shaking his head.

"I don't know half of the artists, and my so-called manager, even if he is more like a babysitter than anything, is somewhere to discuss with the staff of program because he apparently disagrees with the appearance order, " Yoongi said, shrugging.

"Complain as much as you want, but I would give my right arm to be up there with you," Yoongi turned to look at him, throwing a piercing look that the younger interpreted as an " and whose fault do you think is it, " Namjoon spared him the duty of having to voice it.

"I know, I know. You would have liked it too, and yes, if only I had been there," Namjoon said waving his hand. "But you know that when happens... Well, happens. "

Yoongi let out a half laugh.

"This is high poetry, Joon. I almost want to ask you the permission to include it in my next song," Yoongi replied with the usual dose of sarcasm, because Yoongi without his sarcasm couldn't be himself.

"Go ahead. It's not like I'll have an opportunity to do it. "

Namjoon suddenly felt Yoongi's grip on his wrist, so tight it hurt. He looked at the older in astonishment.

"Do not say that anymore," Yoongi said, almost angry. Even though both of their situations were half a disaster, though for different reasons, Yoongi had forbidden him categorically, and with angry obstinacy, to abandon music.

"It‘s the only thing that remains to the both of us. I refuse to be the only one left,” Namjoon didn't really understand how Yoongi hoped that a Kim could truly combine an artistic career with institutional duties, but the elder didn't want to hear any reason. Of course he didn't want to abandon music, he would never have wanted to do it, but he knew that – realistically - with the inevitable passage of time, loving music and not being able to pursue it, would hurt too much to continue.

And when the time will be over and the cover of this box will close on me, there'll be no way out.

But for Yoongi it seemed to be important to think that he wasn't alone in that race, and therefore Namjoon let him. After all, keeping some hope alive, even if it was useless, was still doing him some good.

Namjoon stayed with Yoongi until a few minutes before he was called on stage, and when he went to the dance floor, instead of mixing among the crowd, he decided to stay in the outer corridor where it was less crowded and from where he could enjoy the show better, albeit from afar. When Yoongi climbed the stage and started his performance, Namjoon was fascinated as the first time he heard him.

He wondered if the ones that had heard his friend before and were now present, realized how his music had changed. The night Yoongi had to perform on stage alone was the first time he had shown his new self to the public, his way of performing had been more blunt and disconnected but also more direct and sincere, as if Yoongi was devoting those words to someone who could never hear them and perhaps that was why was rapping with a bitter conviction.

It was a kind of music to which it was impossible to remain indifferent.

Namjoon stayed up to the last of Yoongi's songs, and clapped his hands and yelled together with the others. Yoongi got off the stage shortly afterwards and looked tired and probably something else, and Namjoon thought that he should have seemed more satisfied with himself instead of looking like all his energy had been from his body. Namjoon waited for the manager to have some talk with the elder before approaching him again. Namjoon high-fived his best friend and Yoongi did it with a stretched smile but still, it was the happiest expression that the younger had seen on him that night. However, instead of going out, as they used to do, to have some chatting while Yoongi smoked, in those back and fore answers that were their particular friendship, Namjoon instead asked.

"Yoongi, have you talked to...?"

"No," he cut short as if he already knew what his friend was going to ask.

"I can't," the elder admitted disgusted by his own weakness, but knowing that he could not do otherwise.

Namjoon shook his head without adding anything else. Yoongi knew what he thought and it was useless to say it again, besides he didn't need for someone to scold him, he just needed to let go.

"Did you tell the truth to Seokjin?" Yoongi asked for reference. Namjoon let out a low laugh because it was a sly blow and he passed it over, only because he knew how much the other was hurt by his judgment, especially if it was true.

"It's not the same thing," Namjoon replied. He had not come to quarrel, had no intention of provoking Yoongi, Namjoon was only worried. He was worried about his silences and the distress that the other was hiding from him. He would have preferred for his best friend to confide in him rather than ignoring his own feelings. He could have his opinion but Yoongi was his friend. He would never abandon him, no matter how at fault he was.

"Lies are always lies, regardless," Yoongi said dryly. Namjoon stiffened and the elder seemed to realize then how much those words had hurt him.

He put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly because Yoongi had never been good at apologizing, but he loved Namjoon. "No, you're right," the latter said, shaking his head.

Yoongi's hand slid from his shoulder to his elbow and pulled slightly on his sweater as if to apologize once again. Namjoon nodded accepting the silent apology, as the other sighed loudly.

"We are the most pathetic numbers two of the universe, Joon. We're in two and we cannot even make one of us healthy," Yoongi commented. "Let's go to get you something to drink," he then added.

"Are you aware that I am a minor?"

"As if this has ever stopped you. C'mon just one thing and then we go home," Yoongi said with his new docile tone that Namjoon was having a hard time getting used to it. He was used to a Yoongi, who called him dumb and hit him on his nape, not to a companion of philosophical alcoholism and repressed sentimentality.

Things change, Namjoon said as he approached Yoongi at the bar counter. They change.

Of course some things could only happen to him, Namjoon told himself a few hours later, alcohol in his body that was no longer inducing any sense of cheerfulness.

He had been too sure of himself, he mentally reproached, it was obvious that he was a walking disaster, sooner or later it would have been inevitable that he would end up losing the magnetic key.

It was almost two in the morning and he was locked out of the Kim's mansion.

Of course he could have tried to climb the gate, but the first time he had been too optimistic to think he could achieve that and the gate was not as low as he had thought, not to mention that even in the miraculous case he was able to complete the task, he was quite sure he would end up activating the sensors and therefore he would probably wake the entire villa, that if he didn't break his neck while doing so.

What was he supposed to do then? Waiting outside until the staff in the morning came to open, it was out of the question, given that he could survive a night in the cold. However, it was too late to call Yoongi and ask him for help, and even if he could find a place to crash over, he wouldn't be able to explain his absence to the Kims the next day. Namjoon was a member of the Kim family, and since day one they had recommended him to maintain a low profile. He was quite certain that sneaking out to go to a pub of a dubious reputation and staying there illegally until late at night, did not correspond to the term 'low profile'.

He put his hand inside his jeans’ pocket, his fingers touching the phone. He could always call Seokjin, the elder would have helped, but it also meant explaining why he was in that situation and he wasn't sure he could do that, let alone expecting Seokjin approval.

Then, as if someone from the heavens had replied to his prayers, the gate opened miraculously. Namjoon nearly shouted for the joy but managed somehow to contain himself and quickly slide in, closing the gate behind him, but when he turned towards the mansion, only a few steps away, he saw the figure of Seokjin.

Namjoon stepped back, and he would have yelped in the surprise if Seokjin had not put a finger on his lips. Namjoon nodded, legs stiffened for the almost heart attack. Seokjin seemed to take pity on him because in a gesture that was so Seokjin, the person that had taken care of him from the first day they met, he took him by the hand and led him silently through the garden and towards one of the windows on the back that the elder had left open for them. Never a return to the villa had been so effortless. Seokjin escorted him to his room, motioning silently to get inside quickly.

Namjoon would have wanted to have the courage to invite his soulmate in, but there were too many conflicting thoughts inside his head and, as he thought of the distance that Seokjin had held between the two, in the end, irritation was the feeling that ended up winning.

"Aren't you going to ask me where I have been?" Namjoon dared to say in a hushed tone, as he stopped the other from stepping away.

Seokjin stopped and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"Would you tell me?" he asked, voice barely a little above than a whisper. Namjoon wanted to say yes, that he would have said everything to his soulmate, but he couldn't do it. They were so close that if Namjoon had surrendered a second time to the impulse, he would have gladly kissed Seokjin on his own initiative again.

"Everyone has his secrets, Joonie," said the elder with a bitter smile, before placing a kiss on his cheek, lips that stood there, resting on his skin for a moment, as if to apologize, as if to ask for time, before turning back and leave.

Namjoon remained there motionless and wondered if Seokjin knew. And if it was true that everyone had some secrets, what were the ones of his soulmate?

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