The only thing that gets you through all your grueling finals this semester is the reminder that once you finish, you’ll be able to go home and see your best friend for the first time in months. You’ve always hated the fact that Namjoon was such an over-achieving genius. Of course he had to be ranked first in your class and be the only person in the entire school to get into the most prestigious university in Korea, leaving you to suffer through the struggles of dorm life and cafeteria food all on your own on the other side of the country. You almost regret the day he sat next to you in kindergarten and shared his crayons—the day your friendship first formed.

But you have finally finished your grueling Freshman year and you get to spend an entire two and a half months at home with Namjoon, so you decide that you can forgive him for now.

When you get home, you manage to force yourself to sit still for an entire hour while your mother cooes and fusses over whether you’ve been eating enough at the cafeteria and your father demands a copy of your transcript. As soon as they leave you alone, you rush out the door and run across the street to the Kim household, like you did as a child.

You bang on the front door and as though reading your mind, Namjoon opens the door a second later. His face splits into a wide smile, both dimples visible and he holds out his arms for you.

But he should know better than to expect that from you.

You take a step back and squint up at him, “Did you seriously get even taller, ?”

He sighs and his arms drop at his sides, “Really? You haven’t seen me in nine months and that’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth?”

You continue to frown up at him, “Honestly, this is getting kind of ridiculous, Joonie. You’re beginning to look like a giraffe now. Or some kind of deformed llama. Do you get vertigo when you stand up too quickly?”

He rolls his eyes and before you can protest, his arms are around you. He tightens his grasp around you until you can’t breathe then lifts you straight off the ground with surprising strength that you don’t remember him having. You squeal, your feet kicking wildly, but he just laughs. He twirls you around in a wide circle, and only then does he put you back on the ground.

Namjoon grins and affectionately ruffles your hair, “I missed you too, kid.”

You’re still out of breath and dizzy. You glare at him, “Damn. The air really is fresher up there.

Weeks later, you’re lying facedown on Namjoon’s couch, bored out of your mind. Even though it’s past 8 PM now, and the sun has already set, it’s still absurdly hot and you can feel your hair sticking to your neck with sweat. You think about going to the pool, but then remember that the pool closed an hour ago, and besides, it’s too hot to move.

“I’m bored,” Namjoon says, plopping down on your back.

You grunt from his added weight, “Oh god, why is your so bony?!”

In retaliation, he wiggles his bony into your spine. You grumble under your breath, but are really too lazy to shove him off like you normally would.

“I’m bored,” Namjoon whines again.

“So?”

“Let’s do something!”

“Nah.”

There are only three places to hang out in the entire godforsaken city and they consist of the pool, Namjoon’s couch, and the basement of your other high school classmate, Hoseok.

Right on cue, Hoseok bursts into the room, “Guys, guess what?!”

“You’ve finally got yourself a girlfriend?”

Hoseok shoots you a dirty look, then chooses to ignore you entirely, “Guess what, Namjoon?!”

Namjoon digs his deeper into the small of your back, making you moan in pain, before he glances up kindly at his former classmate, “What is it, Hoseok-ah?”

“My parents are out for the night and they’ve left their liquor cabinet unlocked. You guys down?”

You and Namjoon exchange a glance. At once, you’re both rushing out the door after Hoseok.

An hour later and the three of you are lounging around in Hoseok’s basement, bottles and red cups strewn everywhere as Hoseok attempts to bartend and experiment with mixing liquors and juices.

You watch him with half-lidded eyes, feeling sleepy already. “Yah, you guys do realize that we’re all of age now, right? We can just go to the bar.”

Hoseok impatiently hushes you, “Where’s the fun in that?” He says, squatting down to carefully pour a measure of vodka in a cup. Satisfied, he hands the cup to you, “How does it taste?” He asks with shining eyes.

You take a gulp and immediately hand it over to Namjoon. He frowns at you and tastes the drink as well. At once, he gags and sprays the potent concoction all over Hoseok.

“Hey!” Hoseok exclaims in dismay, even as he wipes off Namjoon’s spit with a paper towel, “It can’t be that bad!”

You laugh at the spectacle, “Fine, if it’s not that bad, then you drink it.”

He glares at you and you gaze evenly back, ready to call him on his bluff. But then he boldly grabs the cup, “Fine. I’ll show you what a true man is like!”

You and Namjoon secretly smile at each other. Hoseok bravely takes a huge mouthful. He pauses for a moment, his left eye twitching wildly, before he finally swallows, “See?” He gasps, “It’s pretty… decent.”

Namjoon’s lips curve, “Really? Then you should drink the rest.”

Hoseok’s eye twitches again, “Ok! I will!” He chugs the remaining liquid in the cup, and afterwards, looks like he’s aged ten years.

You try to stifle your laughter, but can’t control yourself, “Are you okay, Hoseokie?”

He belches loudly, “Yes… I just need to lie down for a few minutes and then I’ll be right as rain.”

Of course, he never gets up again until the morning, and the two of you are accompanied by the sound of his snores for the rest of the night.

“Aigo, how is he still such lightweight?” You say with a shake of your head.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you, “Well, not everyone can be a heavyweight champion like you.”

You grin at the compliment and take another swig of your beer. “Wanna take a shot with me, Joonie?”

He narrows his eyes in suspicion, “Last time I agreed to match you, I wasn’t able to eat solid food for a full day.”

“Oh come on, you’re totally exaggerating.”

“Am not! I was camped out on my bathroom floor, praying at the porcelain altar for twenty-four hours straight! My mom thought I was dying of malaria.”

You laugh, “Ok, fine, fine. You don’t have to match me. Just one little shot, okay?”

He grudgingly agrees.

“…Or a double shot,” you say, selecting the taller glass.

Namjoon glares at you, but nevertheless accepts the tall glass of vodka.

“Cheers!” You cheerfully say, clinking your glass against his. He mumbles it after you, adding something about regrets and his liver, but he nevertheless gulps it down.

A second later and he’s diving for the coke bottle. He chugs half the bottle, but is still gasping for air and sputtering when he’s done. “Aish, it burns! This has to be acid! __-ah, is there still flesh on my throat?” He runs his hands up and down his neck in a panic.

You glare at him and punch his shoulder, “Stop being a baby. Is this also how you act at parties at your fancy genius kid college?”

He stares down at his empty glass, “This isn’t really my scene at school.”

“What? Do you geeks only sit around and discuss philosophy around the fireplace with bourbon and cigars?”

He glares back at you, “No. But I’m not much of a partier, either. What about you? Do you get drunk with strange men on a regular basis?”

You snort, “How the hell are you and Hoseok considered ‘strange men’? You’re more like kid brothers.”

“We’re both older.”

“Maybe technically, but not mentally. If we’re going by emotional age, you should both call me ‘ahjumma.’”

“Fine, ahjumma. What other men do you get drunk with on a regular basis?” He asks with a forced casualness, but the diligent way he stares at you gives him away.

You shrug and take another swig of your beer, “I don’t know. A few?”

His eyes harden, almost imperceptibly, but you’re so in tune with Namjoon’s expressions at this point that you notice instantly.

“I live in a co-ed dorm, remember?” You gently say, “These things are bound to happen.”

“I suppose so,” he grudging says.

“They’re just random floor-mates, though. They have nothing on you.”

His eyes light up, “Really?”

“Yeah. They’re nowhere near as nerdy.”

His hopeful expression crashes down and he turns away from you with a huff.

You laugh and grab him by the arm, “I’m joking, I’m joking!” You exclaim, trying to appease him, “You might be too smart for your own good, but I’d much rather hang out with you.”

“Why?” He suspiciously asks, “Because I provide more entertainment with my clumsiness?”

“No. Because I like you better.”

Namjoon’s expression softens at once. He grins so wide that both dimples flash, and it’s probably just the influence of the alcohol, but you feel a foreign tug at your heart from the sight. He sighs and slumps down on the couch, “I’m dizzy.”

“You really need to build up your tolerance, Joonie,” you scold, but nevertheless, you uncross your legs and sit up straight to create a pillow for him.

He plops his head down in your lap and turns to his side so he can face you, “I wish you weren’t so far away.”

“It’s your fault for being a genius and leaving me alone,” You tease, running your fingers soothingly through his hair.

“You didn’t even apply to my university,” he protests, “You obviously didn’t want to be with me.”

“There’s no way I would have gotten in, so why bother trying?”

He sighs and his breath hits the inside of your thigh, making you almost jump in surprise, “And you wouldn’t let me enroll in your school instead.”

“You’ve got a bigger and brighter future ahead of you, kid. You’d never reach your full potential at my little art college.”

He snorts, “What is this full potential business? Maybe I want to be an artist like you.”

You tug on his hair in punishment, “No way. You’ve got to go out there and be the next Mark Zuckerberg, remember?”

He smiles a little at that, “Anything for you, __-ah.”

You’re silent for a moment, considering his words. When you look down again, you realize that his breathing has evened and that his eyes are closed. You sigh, wondering how you’re going to drag him home and in bed before his mother notices. But you don’t have to worry about that for another couple of hours, so you sit there and revel in the familiar feeling of Namjoon.

           “I miss you, too,” You whisper to his unconscious body, words you will never say to him awake.

There is no sound in the small basement except the mingled snores of the two sleeping boys in the room. But at this time of night, somewhere between the pitch black of midnight and the gray of the dawn, the snores are comforting and break up the harshness of the night.

You can’t keep your eyes off Namjoon. It’s only been nine months since you last saw him, but he’s changed so much. Gone is the lanky little kid who you could push around. In his stead is a man.

You stare at him in his sleep and take in the features of his face, from the long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks down the slope of his nose to his lush, almost feminine lips. He twitches slightly in his sleep, his mouth pursing and suddenly his left dimple in visible. Your eyes flicker down to the curve of his mouth.

You think about how nice it would be to kiss those full lips. Your heart starts racing and your face heats up. You can feel sweat form at your palms and the back of your neck. It would be so easy to just lean down and sneak a taste and he would never know…

Panic rises in your chest. And then you’re shoving his head off your lap. You hear him wake up and grunt in protest, but by then, you’re already flying out the door. You don’t loo