“You guys are on in ten minutes!” Hobeom yells over the heads of the half dozen PDs running circles after Topp Dogg, “final costume checks in five.”

Namjoon watches Jimin deal with the final button on a jacket so tight it fits him like a second skin and blinks down at his own. So far he’s only been able to manage the bottom button and all it’s done it make the rest of the stupid thing bunch up around his shoulders, putting his lapels in danger of becoming permanently creased and Namjoon in danger of witnessing the wrath of a stylist scorned.

“I told them they had my measurements wrong at the last fitting,” he mutters, fiddling with the second row of gold buttons. When he receives no reply he looks up frowning to see that Jimin has vanished into the mass of people crowding the backstage area.

The one conquered button pops open. Namjoon’s about ready to dispense with the jacket all together.

“Need a hand?” Seokjin’s is unexpectedly close to Namjoon’s ear, chuckling as the younger jumps half out of his skin

“My jacket’s too tight,” whines Namjoon as Seokjin’s eyes roll

“It’s not too tight,” he smiles, pulling Namjoon round and pulling the jacket tight enough to make Namjoon gasp, "you're just not stretching it out properly."

It takes Seokjin all of ten seconds to pull the buttons into place and smooth down the shoulders and whilst Namjoon would be lying if he said breathing was an easy task right at this moment the jacket is at least done up.

“Thanks,” he chokes around seams threatening to split, “still pretty sure that they have my measurements down wrong.”

“Well if you rip your trousers onstage I’m think they’ll get the message.” Seokjin may have finished with the buttons but he still has a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, smiling up at him with that particular glint in his eyes that Namjoon only ever sees when he’s about to kiss him, “or I could rip them off after the show.”

Namjoon gulps, “err….I think we need to take these off before we get home tonight hyeong.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and leans up the extra distance to peck Namjoon on the lips, “you know sometimes I think you play dumb on purpose.”

“No I just really don’t want to piss of the stylists more than I have to.”

Chuckling low in his throat, Seokjin’s free hand finds its way to Namjoon’s waist as the other moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck, “well at least you have some common sense.”

Seokjin kisses Namjoon harder than expected, the fierce pressure of lips so much softer than Namjoon’s own rather short-circuiting the parts of Namjoon’s brain deemed unnecessary for kissing back. The feeling of Seokjin’s body aligning itself with his, of the restrictive, tight fitting military uniform beneath his finger’s is almost enough to make Namjoon forget that-

“Your stylists want to see you,” Namjoon pulls away with a start and looks over to Hyosang who’s currently sporting an expression of murderous rage. Seokjin blinks slowly at him, his hands still resting firmly at Namjoon’s waist and neck like he hasn’t heard a word of what Hyosang’s just said.

Hyosang’s glare sharpens, if looks could maim Namjoon is pretty sure he’d have scattered into his component atoms by now.

“If you’re not too busy,” Hyosang spits from between gritted teeth before turning on his heels and stalking off to talk to Taeyang.

Seokjin’s brow furrows, “what the hell was that about?”

Namjoon sends him a long sideways glance, “who’s playing dumb now?”

Seokjin opens his mouth to to answer but Hobeom materialises out of the sea of bodies and practically drags them both to the side of the stage for the stylists to fuss over their outfits, mumbling something about hormonal teenagers all the way.

When the show is over and the backstage area is once again full to bursting with people trying to find their stage costumes and make their way back to the changing rooms Namjoon slips away from the rest of Bangtan.

“I just want to ask Hyosang something about the show on the 30th,” he shouts as he retreats from Hoseok’s ‘bad time management’ lecture as fast as humanly possible.

Topp Dogg are ridiculously easy to pick out in a crowd because Yooncheol is so tall and the rest of them are so very short. Hyosang is laughing at something Sanggyun’s just said when Namjoon finds him but his good mood evaporates rather quickly when he sees just who’s come for a chat.

“What?”

“Err….,” Namjoon isn’t entirely sure what to say. ‘Sorry you caught me making out with my boyfriend who you’ve had a major crush on for two years that I totally knew about before I started going out with him’ doesn’t really seem like a particularly good way to kick things off, “can we talk?”

“We’re talking,” Hyosang busies himself with shrugging out of his stage clothes and back into whichever hoodie he’s sporting for the car journey that evening. Sanggyun begrudgingly takes the hint, eyebrows raising with a deep sigh as he stalks off after Byungjoo.

Namjoon fiddles with his cuffs and stares at his shoes, “hyeong I’m sorry,”

“Sorry for what?”

Namjoon sighs, exasperated, “are you really gonna make me say it,”

Hyosang continues to change in silence.

“I’m really sorry you saw me and Seok-“

“Actually yeah you’re right I don’t wanna hear it,” Hyosang snaps

“I really am sorry though,”

“No you’re not,” Hyosang sighs, “it’s fine I’ll get over it,”

“Yeah but-“

“No buts,” Hyosang whips round and fixes Namjoon’s gaze, “I’m gonna make a deal with you Namjoon, I’m gonna be a big boy about this and not kick your head in and in return I am never ever going to catch the two of you doing anything more than holding hands EVER again.”

Namjoon is less than convinced, “really?”

“Well what else did you expect?” Hyosang reaches up to ruffle Namjoon’s hair out of its rigorously gelled neatness, “I really don’t have the time to spare plotting your demise Namjoon I have two simultaneous music careers to stay on top of. Speaking of which, please tell me you’re still on for the 30th?”

Namjoon makes a face and tries to think of a way to rephrase Bang PD’s ‘absolutely not’ into something more flexible, “I’m working on it.”

“Well if you’re not there Donghyuk’s actually gonna cry and I can’t think of anything less hiphop than Ikje cooing over him trying to cheer him up onstage so please do what you need to do to make sure you’re there.”

The rest of Topp Dogg have largely moved towards the exit and the crowds are beginning to thin out. Hyosang tucks his stage outfit under his arm and extends a hand which Namjoon shakes warily,

“You’re sure you’re not angry hyeong?”

“Oh I’m furious Joonie,” Hyosang beams, “I am apoplectic with rage and you can expect a diss track written just for you in the next week or so. But hey no need for me to be a about it right?”

Namjoon’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s spared the task of thinking of something simultaneously sympathetic and cocky to say in response.

I’m still willing to rip your trousers off when we get home but I can’t very well do that if you’re not AT home and if you wait much longer Hobeom’s going to leave without you :) xx – Seokjinnie

Before Namjoon can reply Hyosang has snatched the phone and is scowling at the screen,

“Hyeong please-“

“RIP YOUR TROUSERS OFF?”

“Louder hyeong I don’t think Dispatch quite heard that.”

“Maybe I’ll just kick your head in after all.”

Namjoon does make it to the minivan on time in the end, out of breath and hotly pursued by Hyosang. They manage to get moving before the pint sized ball of fury makes contact with the vehicle and Namjoon finds himself lying sweaty and out of breath across the combined laps of Jimin Jungkook and Taehyung.

“What was all that about?” Seokjin asks from the back and Namjoon groans.

“You’re a ing idiot hyeong,” Yoongi calls from the passenger seat.

If Namjoon were just a shade more indulgent of his inner cheesy romantic he’d say something along the lines of ‘but he’s my ing idiot’. For now though he’s more than happy to let Seokjin figure it out for himself.