Someone is plotting against him. Some deity up there must be holding some grudge on him for a mistake he made in a past life, because out of all the damned coincidences what happens to him is just the worst – he can't even believe his eyes, when he opens the front door and he only finds Seokjin, sitting on the couch. Can't even believe the look he's giving him it's real, considering how chaste and innocent it is.

- Where's everyone? -, he asks. Seokjin mutes the TV.

- Jungkookie, Taehyung and Jiminie went to the movies together. Hoseok and Yoongi were both still at the studios when I came home, and I think I overheard them say that they might spend the night there. -, he explains. He flashes him a smile, but it's shy, the ghost of its past self. - We're alone, Joonie. -

He tells that last part with a weird, almost expecting tone, as if he wishes for an answer from Namjoon; but he forgot how to speak. He can only stare silently, listening to the hypnotic sound of raindrops clashing against the windows and far-away thunders, harsh coughs of the sky signaling the flow of time in that quiet, peaceful moment. Again, it's Seokjin that finds the strength to raise and move towards him.

- You're soaked. -, he whines, taking the backpack from his shoulders and placing it on the floor. Namjoon lets him maneuver him, eyes low. - Where's your umbrella? -

- It wasn't raining when I came out of the studio. -, he answers. Behind him, Seokjin just sighs.

- This is a lie. It was already raining when I came home. -, he sighs again, and Namjoon isn't strong enough to look at the disappointment in his eyes, so he just keeps staring at the floor. - I know you broke it. Namjoon, why do you lie to me? -

He never calls him Namjoon. To Seokjin he's Joonie, a nickname that Yoongi and Hoseok would have never imagined before his arrival, but that they both adopted as a natural thing to call him. Even the maknaes call him that way – Joonie-hyung, only Joonie if they want to get their kicked. The mere fact he's using his name somehow makes him want to cry: it's like he's putting a space between them.

But then Seokjin grabs his hand, and before Namjoon can even understand what's happening he's dragging him to the bathroom; he doesn't close the door, since there's no need to, and he takes his coat as he just did with his backpack. - Hyung, what are you doing...? -, he murmurs, but Seokjin doesn't bother to stop and explain himself. There's determination in his eyes, the same determination Namjoon sees during rehearsals everytime they practice, the same he hides behind an exasperated face each time the dance teacher scolds him for his mistakes. Seokjin is always the first one to get back on his feet, after those earfuls; most times he's the one extending his hand to help him get up, offering a sympathetic smile along with his support.

With those same hands now he's undressing him, grabbing a towel to dry his hair with angry . Namjoon never wanted to be treasured and cuddled like that his whole life, but he can't help but cherish each gesture, each soft caress Seokjin