010119. namjoon & seokjin.

[lovestrippedbare]

WINTER.
January 1, 2019.

WHO namjoon & seokjin
WHAT after meeting boyeon

WHERE jin's truck
PREREAD texts

NAMJOON Namjoon paces a little in the entryway of his house, warming up again and trying to finish the cigarette he had started outside before Seokjin arrived. He had thought he'd be able to catch the bus even though he left last-minute, but him being a few minutes late and the bus being a few minutes early ended up with him standing slack-jawed in the street with a freshly lit cigarette in his mouth, watching it drive away.

"This isn't fair." Boyeon had been awake when he returned. He stands in the doorway to his bedroom, frowning at Namjoon over deep red marks on both cheekbones, dark eyes defeated and defiant at the same time.

"You'll find it actually is fair, if you gave it more than half a second of thought." Namjoon is so sick of his brother's complaining, and the right side of his face still stings. Bruises from Boyeon's frantic left hooks, an array of small scabs from falling on the gravel. He exhales smoke and pushes out his anger. It gets easier once he spies the familiar flicker of Seokjin's headlights approaching the house.

"Should I get myself a rich boyfriend to see at night too? Seems to be a side hustle that's working out for you pretty well."

Namjoon clenches his jaw to the point that his back molars grind, but he turns away, hastily putting out the end of his cigarette on the sleeve of his coat before opening the front door to leave. Boyeon had raised his voice slightly above the hushed volume they were speaking at, considerate of their parents sleeping. Namjoon knew it was deliberate, but he let it wash by him. He was done being baited to his brother's level, at least for today.

"I really don't care, Boyeon," he said flatly, answering several of his questions at once. "You can do what you want as soon as you make some fucking money." He closes the front door a little too firmly behind him, flips his coat collar up against the cold, and puts the house behind him.



SEOKJIN Seokjin's head and stomach are buzzing with guilt and fury in equal measure. He's never really spoken to Boyeon. Really, he's made more threats about Boyeon to Namjoon than he's actually exchanged words with the kid. However much they've interacted, it's been enough for Boyeon to suss out something about them and use it to hurt Namjoon. Seokjin's used to that kind of fear, knows his own brother's appraising gaze too well. He hates that it's being inflicted on Namjoon.

He also hates the implication that Namjoon passed along, suggesting that Seokjin's buying him off or that Namjoon's only doing this for the money. In the logical parts of his mind, Seokjin knows it isn't true. Namjoon wouldn't even take an extra 5000 won from him, has turned down every offer of money. He's not doing this out of an ulterior motive. Seokjin is too cynical to let that happen and Namjoon is simply too good.

The thoughts surround and sting at him like so many insects as he pulls up to find Namjoon. Even at a distance, he winces at the side of Namjoon's face, the intensity of the damage.

"Hey."



NAMJOON "Hi. Thanks for getting me." Namjoon ducks into the truck, keeping his face turned a little to one side as he greets Seokjin with a smile that said almost nothing about the conversation he just had with his brother. "I just missed the bus by a second and I thought this way, I'd be able to see you faster."

He runs his through his hair and then nervously touches under his right eye, instinctively attempting to hide behind his hand. Namjoon hadn't been concerned about how he looked all day. He had been too drained and frustrated to care, for the most part, and used the stinging as a reminder of why he was frustrated. When he saw Yoongi, he had been as relaxed about it as he could hope for. But now, sitting with Jin, who is watching his moves with a pained expression, Namjoon is suddenly self conscious, and tries to fill the silence with superficial chatter before going quiet, still smiling nervously.

"It's ah... not that bad, really. It looks worse than it feels."



SEOKJIN Seokjin frowns. He wants to tell Namjoon not to try and smile this off, not to him. Jin is fairly certain that he's the master of the faked smile, of brushing off painful reality in favor of what's palatable to the rest of the world. "I wish people would stop telling me that," he says, his own defenses slipping. Jungkook before, now Namjoon. Not to mention the countless times he's told himself the same lie in the mirror while concealing away bruises.

"Let's go home." He makes a point not to correct himself. That house is not Namjoon's home.



NAMJOON Namjoon's stomach drops, as does his smile. There was a heaviness to Seokjin's words that he wasn't expecting. He wasn't being scolded, but he suddenly had the feeling like he had done something wrong. The hand at his face lands in his lap, and he looks at Jin with sad, searching eyes.

"Okay... I'm sorry."

He looks back towards his house. He can't see Boyeon but he can feel his glare. Namjoon pulls both arms in towards himself, feeling like he should be smaller, when he remembers a feeling he had not too long ago. He had spent a lot of time these last few days assuming that if he interacted with anyone, his misery would spread to them. In fact, it was the opposite. A few texts from Seokjin, and his stressful feelings had dissolved.

With this in mind, he floats a hand across the distance between their seats and tries to reach for Jin's.



SEOKJIN Automatically, Seokjin takes the offered hand and squeezes. "It's not your fault," he says, voice heavy with tiredness. "I'm just tired of seeing my friends with terrible bruises." Tired of knowing they came from people who should be trusted, loved.

He wishes, always wishes, he had some strength, some way of protecting them all.



NAMJOON Namjoon's eyes drift to one side as he considers Seokjin's words. His mind goes to Taehyung, and the injuries he's tried to hide from everyone for a long time, but he isn't sure exactly who Seokjin is talking about. Regardless, he's sure his pained feelings are genuine. He doesn't ask further, he just lets go of Seokjin's hand in favour of running his fingers gently through his hair in an attempt to be comforting.

"That might be why we try to hide them. We don't want to hurt you too. I am okay, though."



SEOKJIN If he weren't driving, Seokjin would let his eyes drift closed. Instead he sighs. "It's not like I don't know how to hide them too," he says. Seokjin realizes he's implied something about himself that Namjoon doesn't know and he barrels on, taking the chance to be the one to ramble for once. "You shouldn't have to lie. If you're hurt, then you're allowed to hurt. You don't have to be brave just for the sake of it."

He turns a corner and recognizes his street and relief bubbles in his chest. It's empty and there's no one to see them. There's no Boyeon to start trouble or suggest something vile about their relationship. It's just them.



NAMJOON Namjoon's brow furrows as he feels pain that isn't his. He keeps his eyes on Seokjin as he listens to him speak, feeling a lump in his throat growing. He stays quiet for a while, not wanting to interrupt, and then nods. "You're right. Completely. That's how it should be."

He remembers that he himself once told Seokjin over text that it wasn't shameful to cry, and he had meant it. With the amount of times he's given comforting hugs to his hurt friends, as well as imagined covering them, protecting them from their pain, he would have thought this would be a clearer issue. He wants that for his friends. He wants them to be honest with others and with themselves and to not be afraid to say what they're feeling. It was something that rang in his head almost every time he spoke to Taehyung.

Why did he have these instincts for himself, though? What was he trying to protect Seokjin from, if he was just going to get hurt by his hiding anyways? Why was this always so hard?

Namjoon can't take his eyes off of him as he drives. His hand falls from his hair, down to rest on his shoulder. There was something wound tightly, in knots inside Seokjin and Namjoon doesn't like it.

"Are you alright?"



SEOKJIN He rolls his shoulder a little, a quiet thanks for Namjoon's touch, and turns into his parking space. Once the car is in park, Seokjin leans back in his seat and looks over to Namjoon, lips pursed with concern. He wants to nod and say that yes he's fine, except that he's been nervous ever since last night's summons to a family viewing of the new year sunrise and then a meal where he felt like a pedigreed runt at a dog show. It's why he's been cooking until absurdly late in the evening, why he's got two guests waiting for them, scarfing down whatever he offers.

He hates Boyeon too. Seokjin feels as though he's not allowed to say as much but it's what he feels. There's also fear. Will Boyeon use whatever knowledge or assumptions he's made of Namjoon as leverage for whatever trouble he makes? Has Seokjin, in thoughtlessly pursuing Namjoon's love, only made his life harder.

But is he all right?

"I'm not hurt," he settles. "I'm just worried. About everyone. Everything. I hate seeing you hurt and I hate that I've had to teach people what I know about makeup."

Seokjin turns in his seat and gently cups the unbruised side of Namjoon's face. "And I hate that he did this to you."



NAMJOON Namjoon smiles, genuinely this time, and leans into Seokjin's hand, covering it with his own. "Would it help if you knew that I was the one who started it?"

He puts a quick kiss into Seokjin's palm and squeezes his hand. "Honestly, this --" he gestures vaguely to the right side of his face, "I care about the least, out of everything. It's almost good, like... validating to me? I don't want it to upset you, though. I'm really sorry."

He sighs. "I know how that is, I worry about everyone too." All the time. Sometimes by what his friends say, but often because of what they don't, and what Namjoon gleans from reading between the lines.

Still holding Seokjin's hand to his face, Namjoon shakes his head. "But... Jin-ah, what's this about makeup?"



SEOKJIN Damn, he thinks. It's all just too far at the front of his mind lately and he tried not to say anything but it still came out anyway. Closing his eyes, Jin lets out a long breath, not quite a sigh and not quite a groan. "I know how to cover up bruises with makeup," he says at last. "And I practiced on myself when I was living with my parents. It hasn't happened in years but I still know how to do it for others." He doesn't say which others. That's between Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi, who's almost certainly seen it on his boyfriend.

He doesn't say what he wants to, which is that it doesn't matter now. His father has given up on trying to mold him into someone he's not and has, therefore, stopped wasting the time and effort of laying hands on his son. Even in different circumstances, physical punishment had been a final resort, the gracenote after a crescendo of fuck ups.

"I hate not being the only one who's had bruises." Carefully, he strokes his thumb along Namjoon's cheekbone. "I'm sorry."



NAMJOON Namjoon's face hardens into a much more serious expression, his brain taking the brief information and filling in the pieces that Seokjin doesn't describe.

He knows it happens. When he and Boyeon were kids, before their father became too sick to do much of anything, there were times he became frustrated and was a little rougher than necessary with them. He knows that is a mild experience compared to what others get. A vision of Taehyung flashes across his thoughts, laughing, feigning distraction, shrugging off dark looking injuries. He doesn't know which others Jin's talking about, but he knows the statistics. It happens. He knows it happens.

But now he's looking at him and imagining it. A younger Seokjin, carefully covering up bruises, pressured to look and act perfect, even after being struck. Namjoon slowly removes Jin's hand from his face and presses it between both his palms, his eyes still hard and grave. He is sad and angry but doesn't want to look at him with sadness or pity. Namjoon knows shame all too well and doesn't want to spark any of it in Seokjin.

Instead, he reaches out with both hands and cups both sides of Jin's face, drawing him a little closer while locking eye contact. Namjoon can't even imagine Seokjin's flawless face having any kind of bruise or mark on it, and imagining it makes him briefly flex the muscles in his jaw.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for," Namjoon says, his voice low and heavy. He looks at Seokjin for another second before closing his eyes and pulling him in, punctuating the statement with a kiss.



SEOKJIN The look on Namjoon's face is difficult to read. He holds Jin's hand with both of his and it feels almost as if warmth is spreading between them from that one point but his face is also utterly serious. Not angry and not sad, but there's an intentness to him. Seokjin can find all the little tells though, the way Namjoon clenches his jaw and his eyes dart over Seokjin's own face like he can find the ghosts there.

He's about to say something, some kind of platitude or apology but Namjoon kisses him and Jin sinks into it. The back of his mind tells him he's being selfish. Namjoon is the one that's bruised and needing comfort but now he's gently grasping Seokjin's face, making it somehow feel better. That voice is drowned out by the overwhelming desire to kiss Namjoon, as if he can push all his love into that one point of contact and heal the bruises from force of will alone.

When they part, he stays close, forehead to forehead and nose to nose as they're so used to now. "Let's go inside and get warm," he says. Let's go inside so I can hold you and kiss you like you deserve.



NAMJOON Namjoon feels a little lighter now, a smile finding its way out. He nods against Seokjin's face, and gives a quiet "Okay".

When they pull back, Namjoon gently combs his fingers through Jin's hair, fixing any stray strands and brushing it out of his eyes. It was a habit he'd developed recently, and it made him very happy to do. Not only did it feel nice to put Seokjin back to how he was (which was: perfect), it gave him some transition time between the world of kissing and the world where they're not kissing. It allowed him to linger there for a second or two longer, and gather his thoughts back.

His own bruises meant nothing to him. Other than a low, constant stinging feeling, it doesn't impede his life. If anything, it felt freeing to have it on display. A signal that his life hurt, and so did everyone's, but you go on anyway. It shouldn't have been a surprise, actually, that Seokjin thought of his own bruises upon seeing Namjoon's. He wonders if it's similar for people he passes on the street.

But he knows it's not as possible for his friends to be public about their inner lives. All Namjoon can do is exist here and accept them, for all their bruises, just like they've done for him.

His hands drop when they're done fussing over Seokjin's hair, and he smiles for a moment before exiting the car. It was easier to separate himself from Jin when he knows they're about to spend a long time being close.


CODE BY TESSISAMESS