Archive of Our Own

Writing lyrics was hard.

It hadn’t always been that way though. When Namjoon was a teenager, he wrote pages and pages of lyrics every day alongside studying, he didn’t know how he used to manage that. Now, as an adult and professional songwriter, he found it impossible to pump out work like he had before. Perhaps his standards were just too high now and the lyrics actually had to be good instead of just being a glorified diary. Maybe his studio was just getting too stuffy and his favourite parks were losing their calming atmosphere after he’d spent too many afternoons wracking his brain for inspiration on their benches. He just needed something different, a change of scenery to inspire him with something new.

That thinking was why he was on a bus to a village seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It had a population of only around a few hundred or so, with only two buses in and out every day, the fact he’d been able to get in without spending an extortionate amount on a taxi was pure luck. The accommodation was also fairly cheap, but that wasn’t luck, that was hours and hours worth of scouring the internet on his part. It was worth it though, because it meant he could stay out there for a few weeks, maybe even a month if he needed it, to work and relax (if he got the time). He was staying with an old woman in her spare room, the advertisement posted by her son, and Namjoon was both excited and incredibly nervous. He had moved out at nineteen and lived alone for the past five years, so living with someone else again, and an elderly woman no less, was going to be an interesting and probably very awkward experience. It was too late to turn back though, because the bus was quickly approaching his stop. He just had to try and get in gear and work or risk losing his very cushy writing job. Who in their right mind would hire him if he got fired for slacking off? He couldn’t mess this up.
__

The sun had already mostly set once he had managed to get out of the house again and properly explore, much to his dismay though the small village square was deserted, the shop and pharmacy having shut hours ago, he supposed he was going to have to get used to not being able to just pop out for a coffee and snacks at any time he wanted. He already missed 24/7 convenience stores and it hadn’t even been a day. The views could almost make up for it though. Traditional style hanoks with their high brick or metal fences, white walls and tiled roofs turned to fields and fields of fruit and flowers and rice the further he walked from the centre of the village. The sun was disappearing behind rows of trees in a blanket of red and yellow hues with white fluffy clouds painted on top, it looked like a painting. Namjoon wished he could paint at times like this so he could capture the sheer surreal beauty of the world around him in a form other than words, paintings were easier to appreciate than lyrics for so many people.

Amongst the fields of crops, there was one empty field, filled with nothing but grass and a few trees, the perfect place to sit down on the ground and have another go at writing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t just end up throwing his notepad as far as he could as he had so many other times, he didn’t think he could find it again in the lowlight like he could in his studio, and he only had so many little notepads that fit perfectly in one of his leather satchel’s pockets. The ground was dry so Namjoon very quickly found his place under a tree, leaning his back against it, pen in one hand and phone in the other to keep a light shining on his notepad. Now he just needed inspiration. Pretty skies, pretty trees, pretty fields, yet nothing in the scenery could spark anything in him.

Namjoon was just about to give up and head back home for the night when he heard something: a loud voice singing a song soaring through the warm summer’s air, a rich baritone that was so smooth it made him melt back against the tree like butter in a hot pan. He couldn’t help but wonder who the voice belonged to. It was probably a young man, but he couldn’t figure out anything more, everything else was just his imagination. Maybe the mysterious singer had pretty pouty lips or round cheeks or gentle eyes, maybe they had short fluffy hair or maybe long wavy hair, maybe they dyed it fun colours like some of the idols Namjoon wrote for. They might have had acne or a beard or moles or gaps in their smile, they could be anyone really, but their voice was enchanting. He could probably spend hours waxing poetic about the mesmerising tune.

That was it. Namjoon’s pen started moving before he even realised it, writing line after line about that soothing song and who could possibly be the cause of it, an alluring mystery that left him desperate to learn more. An unknown smile evident in how their laughter and delighted squeals filled the gaps between songs, radiating pure joy even from so far away. A small, dark figure bounced around under the light of the moon. He was so engrossed in scribbling down whatever first came to his head that, by the time he came back to reality, that dancing figure was long gone and the very first signs of the sun were appearing just beyond the horizon, lighting up the sky in a soft shade of blue. How long had he been out there? He couldn’t remember. He had to get back and get some sleep before actually exploring the village when things were open. Namjoon hoped he could hear that voice again, maybe he could even go up and talk to them instead of writing until they disappeared, they deserved to know how beautiful they sounded.

“Shit, I need more sleep.”
__

After a week in the village, Namjoon decided it was at its most picturesque at sunrise and sunset. Blue skies and shining sun rays beating down on him were nice and all, but nothing could compare to having only the chirping insects for company as he wandered around in the low light, darker than it ever got in Seoul. The nights were like nothing he had ever seen as well, the pitch black sky covered in twinkling little lights, glowing brightly instead of drowning in a sea of artificial brightness, everything was so much more peaceful out there. For the most part at least, he was still getting used to all of the animal noises, the scurrying and the squeaking and the squawking startled him every time he noticed it, especially the dawn chorus that hadn't yet failed to wake him up. God, he missed his comfy double bed and thick windows more than anything each morning.

Namjoon had gone back to that field a couple of times but without that voice it just wasn’t the same, it felt like something was missing, that was until he visited just as the sun was setting once more. This time the baritone wasn’t the only sound filling the field, there was also a saxophone, just as smooth and powerful as the voice and so rich. He wished he could play an instrument like that, it would probably make him a better songwriter. After listening silently for a while he realised the singer and the player had to be the same person, only one other figure stood in the field and the sounds of singing and saxophone never overlapped. He had to talk to them.

“Hey! Can you hear me?!” Namjoon called out, his hands cupped around his mouth to make himself as loud as possible.

They must have heard because the figure fell still, the mellow saxophone coming to a stop with a loud discordant squeak that made him cringe.

“Hi!” Namjoon continued, waving his arms above his head as he started making his way over. He didn’t get a response, instead they remained frozen for a few more moments before fleeing like a scared animal, running at a pace that Namjoon couldn’t keep up, let alone catch up, with even if he tried. They sent a rather clear message though, one that they didn’t want to be disturbed, and Namjoon wasn’t one to ignore such a complete rejection. He supposed that the beautiful singer would always remain a mystery.
__

“These are good, they’re so… emotive, how’d you come up with these so quickly? You said you’ve been struggling for ages now,” Yoongi hummed, his ever-comforting mumble distorted by the poor phone service.

They had known each other for so many years that Namjoon couldn’t really imagine a life without his closest friend anymore, he had just seemingly always been there. They had met when they were both teenagers still, back when Namjoon was cycling miles and miles every day to get from his parent's apartment to the small entertainment company he was working for to save on travel costs, when they were still fresh-faced musicians with an untamed hunger for success. Originally they had been at each other's throats, even the smallest creative differences resulted in full-blown arguments and they never spent a second longer together than necessary, a strictly business relationship. Times had changed though, they’d grown up and become truly inseparable. They hadn’t worked together at the same company for years, not since the one they first met at went under, but that didn’t stop them from going to each other for help whenever they needed it.

Yoongi had actually been the one to suggest getting away for a bit, he had run away to the mountains for a few days the previous year when he was stuck and it had worked wonders for him. Maybe it could have worked for Namjoon too. Only the change in pace hadn’t been what inspired him, not one bit, it was a wonderful distraction but it was all that mysterious singer with their enchanting voice.

“I guess I met someone… sorta,” Namjoon replied. He couldn’t lie, not to Yoongi, but the truth was just a little too embarrassing to admit to so easily.

“I figured, you only write like this when you’ve met someone interesting, who are they though?” Yoongi asked, clearly unimpressed by the younger man trying to dodge the question.

Namjoon groaned as he laid back on the floor of his rented room, his phone left on speaker mode on the low table along with the pages of lyrics he had managed to write in the 2 weeks he had been there. “I don’t know, they don’t seem very interested in talking.”

“Why’d you think that?”

He could almost picture being sprawled out on Yoongi’s floor instead when he closed his eyes. It was far from a new situation, too many drunken nights had turned into drunken mornings in his friend’s studio apartment where far too many tears had been shed over things and people who didn’t deserve them. He could picture Yoongi sitting on the floor next to him, feeding him bites of food and sips of water through a straw, letting Namjoon lay across his lap even though he must have been heavy from all of the time he spent in the gym. Namjoon would do anything to have his comforting presence in moments like that.

“Joon-ah?” Yoongi’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You alright?”

“Not really,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands through his hair in the way his mother always had when she comforted him as a child, “I just… I’m stressed still and everything feels a lot and I really miss you right now, Hyung, I hate being so far from home.”

“How can you miss me? We’re talking now,” Yoongi quipped but Namjoon knew he had a shy smile on his face, he always did when he dodged affection.

“You know it’s not the same.”

“You’re not getting out of telling me who you met though, the last time you wrote like this wa-”

“Don’t, please…” Namjoon cut in. He didn’t even want to think about it.

“Ok, I won’t, don’t worry,” Yoongi reassured him quickly.

Namjoon sighed once more. He could only stare silently at the ceiling for so long as he listened to Yoongi hum and type away on his keyboard, no doubt working. He really was a workaholic. Namjoon didn’t know how he did it but he always just said he was used to it, that he had worked since he was a teenager. The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon, he needed his breaks to feel like himself, to feel human. He needed his bike rides and his trips to art galleries like he needed air. When did he last visit an exhibition? He couldn’t remember anymore. Yoongi must have noticed, maybe that's why he encouraged him to spend so long out in the countryside instead of just a few days like he had.

“The first night I was here there I went into this one field and someone was singing there and they were just so… fuck, I don’t know,” Namjoon began, letting his mind drift back to that voice. They were far from flawless but it was perfect to him. “I can’t even explain it, they just sounded so… happy. Like, they were laughing and I could see them bouncing and dancing and it was just… they seemed free in a way I don’t think I’ve seen before. And they play the sax like really really well, like almost good enough to be a pro, you know?”

“Mhm, that explains these lyrics. They’re even more of a mess of longing and sadness than normal,” Yoongi hummed. Namjoon could almost see him doing his little sagely nod he always did after commenting on the deeper meanings of the things the younger man made.

“My lyrics aren’t always depressing.”

“They aren’t always but they are a lot of the time, even the happier songs have this… undercurrent, don’t try to lie like that.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon whined, shaking his head.

“Don’t whine, it’s true.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not while you still need me. What happened with this person?” Yoongi replied simply.

“Nothing, that’s the problem! I went over to talk to them and they ran off, literally, they sprinted.”

“Maybe you just startled them, people don’t often go into the middle of fields at night expecting to be seen,” Yoongi suggested. He was probably right, he tended to be with these sorts of things, but that didn’t make it feel ok to go back out there and pursue them further. Namjoon would much rather have them remain as the mysterious singer that got away than risk scaring them any further, did the phrase ‘if you love them let them go’ apply? Besides, he probably only liked the idea of them, the actual person behind the voice might have been awful for all he knew. He’d made that mistake before and had no intention of repeating it.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not gonna try and talk to them again, are you?” Yoongi sighed as if he had read his mind through the phone.

“Oh, fuck no.”

“Of course.”
__

“Happy anniversary, Noona!”

Namjoon had spent the past two months planning for this day. He’d researched all of the restaurants he could afford and all of the different meanings of different flowers, he’d scoured almost every shop in the city trying to find the perfect gift and he’d rode around all the parks in Seoul to find the best place he could get to quickly so they wouldn’t be walking around in the snow for too long. He had kept it all a secret from her as well, making sure to not mention why he was spending so much extra time out in a way he didn't think would arouse suspicion, never researching while they were together, which was most evenings, and hiding her present in a box under his bed, tucked behind other things. It was their third anniversary and it had to be even better than last year. He couldn’t believe it had already been three years. It hadn’t been perfect but it had been theirs and he loved it just as much as he loved her, he had all he wanted and he was sure it would stay that way.

“Oh, Joonie Bear, you shouldn’t have,” she hummed, taking the bouquet from Namjoon with a smile. It was a beautiful mix of coreopsis, shasta daisies, yarrow, red salvia and a single red chrysanthemum with a sprinkling of baby’s breath. Namjoon was so proud of himself for buying the flowers and putting the bouquet together himself instead of just buying a random bunch, this one felt so much more personal even if it was far messier.

“I put it all together myself. The yarrow and baby’s breath represent everlasting love and the Salvia means forever mine and-”

Soft lips pressed against his, cutting him off mid-sentence, he hated when she did that. He melted into it regardless, slipping his arms around her waist to rest on the small of her back.

“You talk too much sometimes, Joonie,” she laughed fondly, rubbing his chest with her free hand, “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

“I’ve got a table booked for 7, should we take the bikes?” Namjoon asked. He was sure his cheeks would be aching from smiling by the time they fell asleep.

“In this dress? Absolutely not,” she snorted, stepping back to show off her dress. It was beige and ended mid-shin with a high neckline and very loose pleats that gave it just a little more volume, her makeup and jewellery made the rather simple dress so elegant. Everything about her was stunning really, from her pouty lips and v-shaped face and long limbs that made her almost as lanky as Namjoon himself to her perfectly painted gradient lips and shimmery pink eyeshadow. Even when she had just woken up, her hair still in rollers and drool on her chin she looked beautiful to him.

“You should’ve worn a coat, it’s too cold to wear short sleeves.”

“Can’t I just borrow one of yours?”

“I… this is the only nice coat I have,” Namjon replied. He didn’t want to ruin the outfit she had clearly put so much time into making perfect with his puffy black coat but he had put work in as well and didn’t want it to go to waste.

“You’re the one that’s insisting on me wearing a coat so it’s only fair. Please, Joonie bear.”

“Ok,” Namjoon soon relented, slipping off his coat and draping it over her shoulders, “Anything you want, Noona.”

At dinner the conversation flowed just like the drinks, giggles and stories shared over glass after glass of red wine. If Namjoon was being honest with himself he had just a little too much before he had stopped but he could manage himself, though he would probably have to manage both of them if she kept going. It would be ok, it wouldn’t be the first time he carried her home.

“I got you something, Joonie,” she eventually hummed when their plates had been taken away and replaced with dessert menus.

“Oh, you did?” Namjoon couldn’t hold back his ear-splitting grin if he tried.

“You know the art exhibit you dragged me to a couple months back?”

“You said you didn’t mind going, I would’ve gone alone if I knew you were gonna get so bored,” Namjoon explained, his smile falling slightly. Even his first ever date when he was fourteen hadn’t been as disastrous as that date. He had almost left her that night. High on his emotions and sick of her complaints after he had told her repeatedly she could leave if she wanted to, the only thing that stopped him was simply going for a walk and avoiding her for the next few days to let himself fully calm down so he didn’t make a choice he regretted. He was glad he had taken a step back when he needed it rather than lose someone so precious to him.

“Well, after you stormed off, I went to the gift shop and I picked you up something you might like,” she hummed as she pulled a neatly wrapped present to him, a red bow stuck to the top.

“Don’t tell me you…” Namjoon replied, his smile creeping back onto his face. He always bought an art book at any exhibition he could and used the ticket as a bookmark, it was his own little tradition and he loved how it had filled out his shelves with all the things he had seen.

“Go on, open it already.”

He nodded quickly before ripping open the paper, it only looked like a small book but most of them were, it just meant he could fit even more on one shelf. When he finally got the paper off his smile faded just a tad, it felt so thoughtless, more like something a distant aunt would buy him rather than his girlfriend of three years. “A pocket guide to art history?”

“Yeah, I thought you would like it since you talk about all these art movements and stuff,” she responded, her own smile still wide. He had to keep it cool.

“Thank you, Noona, I love it,” he hummed, setting the book down to reach into the inner pocket of his blazer, “I’ve got you something too.”

Namjoon pulled out a small jewellery box.

“No…” she muttered, her eyes wide but her smile even wider.

“Here, open it,” he hummed as he held out the box.

“I… ok.” She did as she was told and shakily took the box and opened it, frowning at the contents.

“They’re forget-me-not earrings,” Namjoon explained, his smile slipping further as hers did. He soon held up his arm, showing off his cuff, “I have matching cufflinks.”

She stayed silent. He couldn’t stand when she went silent, he could never tell what she was thinking.

“Do you not like it? I just… you said you were looking for some new jewellery last month so I thought you wo-”

“How obvious do I need to be with you? I wanted you to propose to me, how did you graduate top of your class when you're so… fucking hopeless?”

Namjooon felt like the entire world had faded into the background along with her complaining, he didn’t want to listen to it. He just never seemed to get it right with her, there was always some tiny hint or subtle indication she had given for something that she wanted that he had missed. He could never meet her expectations no matter how hard he tried, could he?

Never had they once talked about marriage in any serious way, how was he meant to know she was interested? Why on earth would he ask her to marry him without even having a single conversation about it? He refused to jump into a lifelong legal commitment like that. Now he was thinking about it though, marrying her, he realised he couldn’t stand the idea. He loved her with all his heart but living every day of his life with her until one of them died sounded like a hell he couldn’t cope with, he couldn’t deal with never being enough for the rest of his life.

“Noona.” Namjoon cut into her tangent.

“What?” She looked so angry, her cheeks red enough to show her flush through her makeup.

“I’m paying for dinner then I’m going home, text me when you’re ready to actually talk about this,” Namjoon replied with a bitter smile. He hated how surprised she looked as he slowly got up, leaving his coat and both gifts at the table with her, paid and then left. How did his refusal to resort to screaming matches shock her so much every time?

He needed to get out. He needed to let the frustrated tears run down his cold cheeks in a way that made his skin burn as he walked with his head tilted up to the sky. He needed to sit on a snow-dusted bench and call Yoongi with trembling hands.

“Hello?”

“Hyung…”

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up.”
__

“How’s the new job going?”

It was a scene that had happened at least a thousand times before and would undoubtedly happen at least a thousand times more. Namjoon was sitting at the low table in Yoongi’s tiny apartment, carefully peeling vegetables for Yoongi as the older man stood in the kitchen, cooking up some rice and a cheap cut of nearly expired meat for them to share. Art in all of its forms rarely pays well and now he had been between jobs for months Namjoon was relying on Yoongi for food, all of his savings were going towards paying his rent with little left in his budget for food, the only thing he bought himself anymore was instant noodles for when the pain became unbearable.

“Can I be entirely honest?”

“Of course, you know you always can be,” Namjoon hummed, glancing up from the carrot he was peeling at Yoongi’s back. He always seemed to be the most open when he didn’t have to look at anyone.

“It’s awful, I’m already looking for something new again,” Yoongi sighed. Namjoon could see the sag in his shoulders so he wasn’t the least bit surprised but he had still naively hoped that at least one of them was having good luck. “The pay is good but they want a new song every week and I just can’t do that, not for any real amount of time.”

“A new song every week? Fuck me, that’s just… insane.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi laughed weakly, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

“You don’t have to cook for me every night if you’re too tired, Hyung, it’s ok.”

“You can skip breakfast but you can’t skip dinner, Joon-ah.”

How had he noticed? Namjoon had been eating as little as possible to save all the money he could but he didn’t dare tell a soul, least of all Yoongi, because the older man took his role as ‘Hyung’ incredibly seriously. He would feed Namjoon from his own pocket even if he had nothing left to give and he didn’t have parents to fall back on like Namjoon did, he couldn’t do that to his mentor and closest friend. He refused to eat him out of house and home.

“I… fine, but we can just have like cup noodles or something, don’t have to cook a whole proper meal,” Namjoon ended up settling for, Yoongi could be as stubborn as a rock.

“I’m fine cooking, seriously, especially when you’re helping me,” Yoongi replied, glancing over to flash him a small smile before focusing back on poking around the meat in the pan in front of him. Namjoon wouldn’t really describe what he was doing as particularly helpful but he was trying his best, that was what counted when it came to Yoongi though he supposed. “How’s your job search going?”

“Utter shit,” Namjoon muttered, his face hidden behind his overgrown black hair. He was going to have to cut it himself eventually.

“You’ll find something, for now let's go eat and watch a movie, I just got Forever the Moment on DVD last week.”

“Do you watch every sports movie that comes out or something?”

“Only most of them,” Yoongi replied. Namjoon could hear the smile in his voice.

What would he do without Yoongi?
__

“What’s wrong, Joonie Bear?”

Long nailed fingers trailed along his back and up to his head to scratch his scalp. Normally, he would melt under those tender touches but instead he tensed up more, he couldn’t take any more touching in one day, why did she have to be there? He just wanted to be alone with a drink, a box of takeaway and his sitcom reruns, he didn’t have the energy to try to appease her.

“Just a long day at work is all,” Namjoon mumbled, shuffling out of his shoes as quickly as possible to escape her hands. He didn’t succeed. Two hands came up to grab his bicep, tugging him close in a way that made his already sore shoulders ache, he couldn’t hold back his wince.

“I was gonna cook dinner but you don’t really have any ingredients, let’s go out early instead, yeah? It’ll cheer you up before we go meet up with everyone,” she suggested with a soft smile. How many times had he told her that he preferred staying in when he was upset?

“Not tonight, Noona, please, I just wanna go to bed right now. I’m sorry, really, I know you were really looking forward to it but I just can’t, not today. You can still go without me though.” He meant his apology wholeheartedly. She’d spent weeks trying to find a time when she and all of her friends and their partners were free so they could all go out together and drink themselves sick somewhere, she’d been gushing about how excited she was for days. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to force himself out of his apartment again, even for her, because he knew she would never do the same for him.

Namjoon tried to not hold the number of times she had cancelled on him on short notice against her, it wasn’t her fault if she was too tired or unwell to go out, but the incidents had started to pile up to the point he was almost concerned. There was their hiking date she had ditched because apparently she twisted her ankle but went clubbing in heels just a day later and then their plans to watch Helpless when it had just come out fell through because she was too tired after getting up early for work that day despite the fact she had no reason to be there early and so many more. She also seemed to constantly reject his ideas of places they could go or things they could see because she was already going out with her friends on the day he had suggested. They almost never spent the weekends together anymore, only a couple of evenings each week, if that. Part of him missed her but part of him didn’t. He liked being able to just collapse into his bed without having to deal with her first.

“What? But I’ve been trying to plan this for at least a month now.”

“I know I know, I’m sorry, I just can’t today, I wouldn’t be any fun anyway, not like this,” Namjoon mumbled as he pulled open the fridge in the hope he had some amount of alcohol left, he needed it.

“You- how can you be so selfish? Don’t you care about me at all?” She asked with a deep frown. Something about her expression felt off, it felt almost forced in a way. Namjoon was probably overthinking it, she always said he did.

“I do care,” Namjoon muttered. He decided to close the fridge again without grabbing the singular beer from its spot on the shelf.

“Then come out, for me? Please, Joonie Bear, it would make me so happy." The puppy dog eyes she flashed him annoyed him more than he ever remembered them doing in the past.

“I… fine, let me get changed,” Namjoon soon sighed. Why couldn’t he just be a bit braver? Why did he have to be so fixated on trying to reach her expectations when he knew he never could? Why did he have to be him?

“I love you,” she hummed with a smile, “Now hurry up, I wanna get food first.”

The club was just as awful as Namjoon expected it to be. He didn’t normally mind the bright lights or loud music or the tangle of hot bodies but that night it was too much, all he wanted to do was sleep and the noise was giving him a headache. He supposed having drink after drink wasn’t exactly helping but he couldn’t stand sitting there in a sweaty club watching the people he was meant to be having fun with from the table he had been left at. He could only catch glimpses of people he knew amongst the crowd but it was something to do while he waited for the time to tick by until he could finally leave, likely with at least one drunk person draped over him, if not more. He wished he was drinking cheap soju with Yoongi instead of overpriced beer by himself.

In the mess of people he could see peeks of her. Of her shimmery dress, of her long legs and sharp nails, of her red lips curled up into a smile, of her dancing with her friends. Namjoon couldn’t help but smile weakly, at least one of them was having fun so freely and fully that night. It doesn’t last though. It never does with him, does it?

Wide smiles shared between friends turned to flirty smiles directed at someone he doesn’t recognise. Dancing turned to grinding. Chaste touches turned to wandering hands exploring places they already knew well. Dance floors turned to bathroom stalls. He watched it all from afar, a glass in his hand and a heavy feeling in his chest. He hadn’t wanted to even entertain the thought there was someone else, that she was really seeing some other man when she was saying she was tired or with her friends, it would have been wrong to make assumptions like that when he had no proof. It would have been a disservice to her and her commitment to him for the past three and a half years. He hadn’t been able to stop it crossing his mind every so often though, a little voice at the back of his head reminding him that she always wanted more than him, that she was settling for him. That she could have found someone who was better, someone who was enough. The voice was right and he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised.

Namjoon left that night and only went back one final time.

Despite the fact they had never lived together at any point, so many of their belongings had built up at the other’s apartment. Toothbrushes, forgotten clothes, lost hair ties and pins. Slippers and a bottle of makeup remover. Old movie tickets, the photos she had taken on his film camera, discarded jewellery and her favourite snacks, all delivered to her door in cardboard boxes with a single yellow rose.

It was time for her to be a beautiful stranger again.
__

After a blissful month in the countryside, Namjoon had to go back, he couldn’t hide from the city forever. It had been a productive few weeks, he’d done far more than he had expected while also feeling oddly refreshed despite the fact he had worked almost every day he had been there, it was overall a near-perfect trip. Only near perfect though because there was one massive flaw, the mysterious singer with the saxophone. Namjoon hadn’t dared to go back to that same field since his attempt at speaking to them failed so awfully. Despite Yoongi’s encouragement to just try one more time and then drop it, he just couldn’t, it felt wrong to push his luck and possibly spoil something so wonderful.

Before he went home there was one final thing he wanted to do. The summer festival. Namjoon hadn’t known about it when he was picking a place to go but it hadn’t taken long after even just getting close to the village, there were posters promoting it everywhere for miles, and it was promised to be even better than the last. It brought everyone together in a way that he had never really seen before, such beautiful blossoming communities were new to him but he adored it nonetheless. He was so glad he got to see it.

The normally empty roads were covered in little stalls selling all sorts. One sold massive bunches of grapes, another sold perfectly fuzzy peaches, the next had lush green watermelons, the largest one had bags of rice from at least six different farms on offer. One even had flowers for sale, a woman handling the marketing while her husband and daughter sat by her side and carefully assembled mini bouquets and corsages and flower crowns. He had to buy a bunch of three purple hydrangeas. There was also a stall selling the art of a few local artists, Namjoon gave in and bought a whole bag full the moment he saw that table, it was worth it to see the wide smiles they gave him as they thanked him.

There were food stalls too. Everything from blood sausages and fish cakes to twisted doughnuts and bungeo ppang. They didn’t have as many options for different fillings as they did in the city, only offering red bean paste and chocolate, but Namjoon had missed his late-night bungeo ppang so much during his stay in the village and he couldn’t wait to have them again.

Namjoon was munching on his chocolaty treat when he reached the village square. There was a rather rough-looking wooden platform raised a few inches above the ground with a speaker on it, playing almost nothing but pop songs from at least a decade ago, as well lots of mostly plastic chairs, seemingly cobbled together from all over the village. He took a seat near the back, away from the stage, enjoying the music until an older woman came on with a microphone in hand, announcing there would be live performances soon too and to enjoy themselves until then.

Most of the performances weren’t particularly special but they were entertaining. There were a couple of songs from the kids from the local elementary school, another few from a group of teenagers doing dance covers to far more recent pop songs, Namjoon couldn't help but smile when he recognised his own lyrics in one of the songs. The teenagers were all rather unpolished but skilled, with a bit of teaching he was sure a lot of them could do amazingly, he would have handed out his company’s card to them if had any with him. There was also a woman around the same age as him who had been an aspiring opera singer at some point, she was truly amazing. Most importantly though was the fourth performance, he didn’t see any afterwards.

“Next we have Taehyung from Kim’s Flower Farm!” The older woman announced.

A very attractive but very very timid man with a saxophone in his hand stepped up onto the platform and shuffled to the centre of the stage. Even from afar Namjoon could see how much his hands were shaking but he couldn’t focus on that, not fully, because the man was beyond breathtaking. Namjoon worked with idols, he saw ridiculously beautiful people all the time, yet they couldn’t compare to that man even from so far away. From the back he could still see Taehyung’s honey-tanned skin, his slicked-back black mullet, his dusty pink lips and his long elegant fingers, his hands must have been larger than Namjoon’s. His outfit was clearly well-loved and likely older than the man wearing it was but he looked stunning in his white shirt and black flares, complete with a matching tie and waistcoat. He belonged in a jazz club, not on a stage at a summer festival in some little village.

Even better than his looks though was his playing. He played soulfully and smoothly, so tender yet filled with a sense of sorrow that made Namjoon’s chest tighten almost painfully, he knew what it took to perform with such emotion. He almost didn’t clap when Taehyung finished, too enchanted by the song to even realise it had faded out, but he was so glad he did because the wide smile that spread on Taehyung's lips was just about the most stunning thing Namjoon had ever seen. He didn’t hear what Taehyung whispered to the old woman but he was soon setting down his saxophone and picking up an old wired microphone instead, his free hand curling and uncurling rapidly by his side.

The moment he opened his mouth to sing the first note, Namjoon felt like his heart had stopped. A rich, velvety baritone, one he had already heard in a field in the pitch black. His mysterious singer was on stage right in front of him. He could go up and compliment him when he had finished performing, if Yoongi was right he wouldn’t run off again. Only when he did finally walk up to Taehyung he froze, his voice stuck in his throat, no words came out of his mouth despite the screaming in his mind.

“Hi?” Namjoon felt like he could melt under those dark eyes.

“I…”

Taehyung looked at him for a few more moments before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a small notepad and pencil, flipping to a clean page and then holding it out to him, “Write down what you wanna say.” God, Taehyung’s speaking voice was just as good as his singing voice with his wavy Daegu intonation and his deep, soft mumble.

Slowly and shakily, Namjoon took the notepad and pencil, taking a deep breath and then finally began to write. He spoke of how much he adored both Taehyung’s singing and playing, how he had heard it before in the field, how he was sorry for scaring him and, after much internal debate, his name and his number. His hands were shaking slightly as he handed them back and waited for Taehyung’s expression to change in some way, even just a twitch at the corner of his lips. It didn’t change at all until the very end when he finally broke into that same beautiful grin, showing all of his teeth and turning his eyes into crescents. How could just a simple smile be so endearing?

“Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon couldn’t do anything but nod, his own dimpled smile spreading over his lips to match Taehyung’s.

“I have to help my parents out at their stall, I’ll message you tonight though.”

He didn’t let the memories of what happened the last time he had felt so giddy get to him as he nodded once again.

“See ya.”

“Yeah… bye,” he managed with a small wave.

Namjoon had never been so happy that he was wrong.
__

Being on the wrong side of laughter never got easier.

No matter how many times Taehyung had experienced it, the flood of humiliation was always the same, he’d learned to hold back the waves of tears though, that would only make it worse. He never knew why they took such pleasure in watching him suffer, it just didn’t make sense, didn’t they feel even a little bit bad about it? He hated whenever he accidentally upset someone, it made him feel sick with guilt.

Three hours, he had waited three hours at the wrong address. He can’t believe he ever thought they would be serious anymore, he really was as stupid as they always said he was. Why would anyone want to truly be friends with him anyway? He was better off studying the manuals of their farming equipment or flower spotting guides or practising his saxophone or anything else he could do by himself in his room. Anything that meant he could hide away from the world until he had to face it again at school on Monday.

He had to get himself back together by the time he got home. He knew how worried his mother was even if she tried to hide it, he could hear her talking to his father through the walls at least once a week about how she was sure something was wrong, that they had to do something. Taehyung refused to make it even worse for her, she didn’t deserve it. She would always notice no matter how much he tried to hide it though, it was almost like a superpower, no one else understood him like his mother did.

“What are you doing home early? I thought you said you would be out until after dinner.”

“Plans changed,” Taehyung muttered with a shrug.

“I’ve got some strawberries that I was going to cut up and give to your father, can you go give them to him for me? He’s working on the tractor right now.” She always knew how to cheer him up and she always knew to cut up extra when she asked him to deliver fruit because she knew he would always sneak a few pieces on his way.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, you go get changed and then head out. Don’t wanna get oil on your nice coat.”

Taehyung would be lost without her love.
__

“Come on, Koo, turn the light on at least a little bit so Tae can see us.”

“No, fuck the light, it hurts my eyes.”

“It’s fine,” Taehyung chuckled, leaning back against his bed as he watched Jimin and Jungkook squabble on his phone screen.

Taehyung had been friends with the couple for years despite the fact he’d never actually met them. He’d been introduced to Jungkook through an online help group back when he had just turned twenty, the other man only eighteen at the time, and he was soon introduced to Jimin as well and the trio had become as inseparable as they could be. Sometimes Taehyung wished he had met them differently, that they were childhood friends that grew up in the same town instead, but he had grown to love their relationship to the point he wouldn’t have it any other way. He kept telling himself he would get himself to Busan to actually properly meet them but he always gave up not long after the thought crossed his mind, too scared to do it alone but not brave enough to ask someone to join him. He would do it someday.

“How you feeling about tomorrow, Taehyungie?” Jimin’s staticky voice brought his focus back to the heavily pixelated pair on his phone. He knew what they actually looked and sounded like from videos and photos but he was most used to how distorted they were during their video calls.

“Really nervous, I know I’m good, I know I can do it, I’m just like… shitting myself cus it’s scary as all hell,” Taehyung admitted. He’d signed up to perform at the summer fair back in the winter and now the day was finally close he was terrified.

“You got your outfit all picked out?” Jungkook asked. He always was obsessed with fashion, he had studied to be a fashion designer but he never managed to get a job after he finished his degree. He insisted he was ok with his retail job though, it may not be perfect but it paid enough for him and Jimin to be able to get by.

“Yeah, got my dad’s old stuff. Hang on, I’ll show you,” Taehyung replied, dropping his phone on his bed. He shuffled over to his wardrobe and pulled off his clothes to replace them with his black suit, he loved the outfit more than anything but he never found a time he could wear it. He couldn’t risk getting it covered in mud or oil while he worked and he never really went out to town to drink or party, his only opportunity was the summer fair even if it was burning hot and he had to spend all his time hiding away in the shade with a fan in hand.

When Taehyung propped his phone back off and did a quick spin he was met with cheers and applause from his friends.

“Looking good, Hyungie!”

“Yeah, you look like a proper jazz musician.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung hummed as he sat back down and picked his phone up again to get a better look at his screen.

He could just about see the couple in what looked like their bed, snuggled up close. They’d met at the tryouts for a dance crew when they were both teenagers and they had been infatuated with each other ever since, going through thick and thin with each other, growing with each other, eventually moving in with each other. Taehyung tried not to feel jealous of them, he really did, but he couldn’t help it in moments like that, times when he was reminded of how lonely he was. His only friends lived hours away from him and at twenty-six he was yet to have a serious romantic relationship, he would do almost anything to have what they had.

“You ok, Taehyungie? You’re really quiet.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok, just worried about tomorrow is all,” Taehyung hummed. They bought the lie, it was believable enough that they could. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit it to anyone, not his friends and especially not his parents, his loneliness would stay his own little secret for as long as possible. Until he could find someone who would change it.
__

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’ve been sulking for days.”

“It’s nothing,” Taehyug muttered, finally letting his shoulders slump. He had grown to be a good actor over the years but his mother saw through it every time.

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t be so upset,” she responded with a weak smile, “come here, I’m making kimbap.”

Taehyung just nodded as he set his pen down, abandoning his bookkeeping at the low table to shuffle to the kitchen. He didn’t need to wait for her instructions to start chopping up all the ingredients she had set out, slicing up carrot, pickled yellow radish and omelette all into uniform strips like he had so many times before. It was almost a tradition of theirs to cook together when Taehyung was upset. He didn’t know how it formed because he had never enjoyed it outside of that singular context but it was comforting to stand by her side and help her make whatever she was preparing, it always had the tension leaving his shoulders.

“What’s happened then?” She asked.

“I just… I thought I had a chance to make a new friend but I think he was just messing with me, feel like an idiot.”

“He’s the idiot for missing out on you,” she chuckled, bumping her elbow against his side.

His mother always did things like that, hum her assurances and praises with that same smile in her voice anytime he doubted himself or his abilities. Taehyung really tried his best to believe it, that he was just as talented and handsome as she told him he was but it was hard when he felt incompetent and undesirable most of the time with only a few fleeting moments of confidence sprinkled amongst it all.

“Maybe,” Taehyung mumbled with a shrug, hiding his eyes behind his hair, “It just… it doesn’t make sense cus he gave me his number, why would he do that if he just wanted to ignore me?”

“No clue, sweetheart, some people are just cruel for the sake of it, it’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Don’t think about him anymore, ok? I’ll cut you up some watermelon that you can have while you work.”

That would be easier said than done. How could he forget a handsome man who had given him so many compliments? How could forget that beautiful dimpled smile or that endearing apology or his adorable little wave? They had interacted for just a moment but Taehyung was drawn to him, something about it just felt right, he supposed his gut feeling had been wrong.

“Ok. Why do I have to do all the boring admin stuff anyway? I hate doing all that maths,” he whined, glancing down at his mother with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Cus your father is awful at it and my eyesight is going, you’re the best one for the job, sweetheart,” she hummed, a fond smile on her lips, “Whining didn’t get you out of work when you were little and it won’t start working now.”

“Fine.”

“Attaboy.”
__

It was inevitable that Namjoon would get some kind of creative block again, it was just surprising it was so soon. He was already back on a bus to the middle of nowhere less than a year later. The fields were filled with half-grown crops instead of nearly ripe ones and the rainy season was yet to fully set in so the skies were clear of any clouds, just an endless sea of blue that he couldn’t help but stare at.

Luckily, Namjoon had been able to rent the same room from the same old woman as he had the previous year, this time for a whole two months. In the intervening months, he had changed companies to one that let him work from wherever he wanted instead of requiring him to take time off to travel out to the countryside. It didn’t come with a studio in the company building and it paid a little bit less but they were trades he was willing to make, he desperately needed more freedom to move around. He’d put most of his belongings into a storage unit and finally moved out of his first apartment so he wouldn’t have to pay for rent anymore, he was practically free to roam with whatever he could fit in a backpack and a suitcase. He hadn't been so happy and free since he was a child.

Part of him was nervous to return to that same village. Namjoon had made all his plans as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t get too scared and give up before he had even started. It was only on the bus that the anxiety really began to set in. He hadn’t heard a word for Taehyung since he had given him his number. He wasn’t shocked because Taehyung had seemed so shy up on the stage but he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, he had really wanted to learn more about his mysterious singer, to become friends or maybe something more. Yet despite his fear, Namjoon was on his way to Taehyung’s little village where he was almost guaranteed to see him at some point in those months regardless. He could have chosen anywhere in the world but he still went back. He didn’t know why he picked that village again but it was too late to do anything now.

Once he had stopped by the house, dropped off his thing and caught up with his temporary landlady, Namjoon was off again, letting his autopilot guide him around the dirt roads of the village. It wasn’t a surprise when he ended up back in that empty field and under that same tree, the one where he had fallen in love with an emotive voice under the stars. It felt like that was a bit too much but he had no other way of describing how he felt about that beautiful voice, how strongly he felt about it. He had barely gone a day without thinking about Taehyung and he’d channelled all of his emotions into his lyrics, it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Yoongi had picked up on his obvious pining and hadn’t stopped teasing him about it between his moments of genuine advice, Namjoon hadn’t had the guts to tell him he had never even gotten a text.

A loud voice broke Namjoon from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

“Hey, you!”

“Me?” Namjoon called back as he looked around the field searching for the source of the noise. His eyes soon landed on a rapidly approaching figure in the distance, Taehyung.

“No, the tree!” Taehyung yelled back in response, eventually coming to when he was only a few metres away. He was nowhere near as dressed up as he had been for the festival, just in a cotton t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts with a toolbelt strapped around his waist, no shoes or socks on his feet, but just as handsome. “Yes, I meant you.”

“Oh erm… hey,” Namjoon mumbled, running his hands through his hair to try to ease the nervous feeling bubbling up in his chest. It didn’t work.

“I texted, why’d you never reply?” Taehyung asked with a deep frown.

“You texted?”

They both stared at each other in confusion until it finally dawned on Namjoon what had gone wrong. He was a clumsy man even at the best of times and he had broken and lost far more phones than he had ever wanted to admit, he had started switching providers after a while to save him the embarrassment of having to get yet another sim card because yes, he dropped another phone in a river. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He had switched only a month or so before he had given Taehyung his number and in his panic he had written one of his older ones instead of his most recent. Yoongi was never going to let him live this down.

“Fuck.”

“What?” Taehyung replied, his arms crossed across his chest.

“It’s my fault, I messed up and I gave you the wrong number. I’m really sorry Taehyung, really. I… here, put your number in,” Namjoon responded as he tugged his phone out of his pocket and held it out to Taehyung. “Ignore the cracks, it still works fine.”

Taehyung blinked at him a few times before smiling softly. He couldn’t help but be endeared by the broad man in front of him, he was just so adorable with wide pleading eyes and his nearly falling apart phone, how was Taehyung ever meant to resist? He nodded and grabbed the phone, typing in his number after a bit of thought and his name.

“I promise I’ll reply this time.”

“How about you come see me tomorrow?”

Namjoon wasn’t naive enough to genuinely think he had been invited out on a date, not so soon, not when he didn’t even know Taehyung’s sexuality, but he couldn't help but wish it was a date. How could he not when he was presented with such a gorgeous and talented man? All he needed was a nice personality as well and then he would be perfect. Namjoon hadn’t dated seriously in years, only having casual flings or one-night stands because he just didn’t feel ready yet but it wasn’t every day he came across someone who could potentially be such a good match for him. He needed to grab the opportunity with both hands while he could. Maybe his parents would finally get off his back about finding someone to settle down with now he was almost 30 if he had a partner again as well, he was starting to tire of having that conversation every time he spoke to them.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Meet me here at midday, I’m leaving if you’re late,” Taehyung replied with a smile. It didn’t show all of his teeth like his smile had on the day of the festival but it was adorable nonetheless, his cheeks were so round and soft.

“Yeah, ok, here at midday tomorrow,” Namjoon responded, smiling just wide enough for his dimples to appear.

“Don’t stay out too late, wouldn’t want you to be exhausted tomorrow.”

Namjoon could only nod and wave as Taehyung disappeared back across the field where he came from, he seemed to have a skip in his step though, like he was ecstatic. Had he made the other man that happy just by agreeing to spend time with him? Namjoon wasn’t sure but he was happy if Taehyung was, he adored his smile.
__

“You look happy.”

“I am,” Taehyung hummed as he practically bounced into the living room. He’d skipped almost the whole way home, laughing and flapping his hands around in pure joy. The anxiety still nagged at the back of his mind but he chose to ignore it, he had to push through his fears to get good things sometimes; that’s what his friends told him at least.

“Can I ask why?” His mother replied, focusing back on her screen where an inbox full of emails awaited her. Taehyung had always hated emails with a burning passion, they were almost as bad as phone calls.

“You can.”

“What’s gotten you so excited then, mhm?”

Taehyung sat down at the low table, drumming his fingers on the wood, “You remember how there was some guy from Seoul who stayed here last summer?”

“Vaguely, some of my friends were saying they were planning on talking to him to see if they could introduce their daughters to him,” she responded with a grin, “One of them found out he was a songwriter and then every single one of them was horrified, said art makes no money.”

“He’s a songwriter?! Like, professionally?” Taehyung exclaimed, his eyes blown wide. He had thought Namjoon was just a music fan, not an actual musician, how had he gotten even more interesting?

“That’s what my friend said but that’s just gossip, might be complete rubbish.”

“That’s just… whatever. I spoke to him at the festival and he gave me his number after I performed and he said I was really good and then when I messaged him I never got a reply but he came back and I saw him today and he said he gave me the wrong number and asked for mine and now we’re gonna meet up tomorrow and he seems cool and he’s really handsome and just… I’m really excited,” Taehyung rambled on, panting by the end to try to catch his breath.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know you can’t always tell when people are being genuine,” she hummed softly. She stood up from her chair to shuffle over to him, standing behind him as she played with the ends of his hair.

“I… just one more go and then I’ll ignore him. I think he did just make a mistake, he seemed really overwhelmed at the festival, had to give him my notepad.” He leaned back into his mother’s touch, his eyes slipping shut.

“I don’t want you getting hurt is all, sweetheart.”

“I know.”

“You need to get a haircut, your hair is gonna be as long as mine soon.”

“Is not. Do I really have to though? You know how I feel about it,” Taehyung mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.

He hated haircuts too. The noise of the electric razor drove him insane, the hairdryer hurt his ears and his scalp from the heat, he hated having someone staring at his face so much and he couldn’t stand having to sit still for so long. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the other things happening in the background. His mother was lucky if she got him to cut his hair more than a couple times a year, barely enough to keep him from looking entirely unkempt as he ran around their farm barefoot whenever the weather permitted it.

“I’ll make your favourite for dinner if you do it,” she hummed, smiling when Taehyung glared up at her.

“Bribery won’t work on me.”

“Wouldn’t your Seoul boy think you were handsome with your hair all done?”

Taehyung blinked a few times before looking away with red cheeks, “that might though.”

“Come on, put some shoes on, let’s go,” his mother laughed as she put her hands under his armpits and tried to drag him up the same way she had when he was a small child.

“Do I have to put shoes on?”

“Taehyung.”

“Fine!”
__

“You changed your hair,” was the first thing Namjoon said when he saw Taehyung approach.

Taehyung couldn’t help but blush as he shrugged, running a hand through his freshly cut hair. It had been a nightmare getting it done, he’d almost cried at least three times but he had just about managed, it would be worth it if Namjoon really did think he was handsome with it properly cut and permed so it had just the right amount of wave to it. He already missed being able to hide his eyes behind it though.

“Yeah, do you like it?”

“It’s cute,” Namjoon hummed with a dimpled smile and a nod.

“Thanks,” Taehyung mumbled, his cheeks burning brighter, “I erm… I need to work right now, you can come with if you wanna.”

“I do as well to be honest, it’s why I came out here in the first place.”

“Yeah, ok, follow me,” Taehyung replied as he turned around and started strolling along the fields back towards their large barn. Namjoon just nodded, getting up to follow after him with his hands in his pockets.

The barn was almost a warehouse filled with machines that he didn’t recognise, Taehyung seemed at home though, just as in his element as he did on the stage as he walked around grabbing various tools and started tinkering on one of the machines; Namjoon was fairly sure it was a tractor. Instead of questioning anything any further, he found an empty spot in the sun and sat down, getting comfortable with his back leaning against the wall.

“Stopped working yesterday so I gotta get back up and running asap so er… yeah,” Taehyung hummed before busying himself with his work again.

Watching him work was oddly calming, especially since he hummed to himself almost the entire time, Namjoon couldn’t help but smile. He had expected to be silently panicking most of the time, presented with a man who he was both pining for and endlessly inspired by, but he was so relaxed, just as at ease as he would be with Yoongi. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why when he was normally so flustered around anyone he was attracted to but he couldn’t complain because it meant he could get his notebook out and have another go at writing. Only a few lines came but it was more than he’d managed in the past few weeks so it was enough for him.

A spluttering noise from an engine followed by a steady rumble and then a loud cheer broke Namjoon from his thoughts and made him focus back on Taehyung, now sitting on his tractor, a wide grin on his face. He really did have one of the most beautiful smiles Namjoon had ever seen. He didn’t think he could ever tire of seeing it, it was just stunning, Taehyung was stunning.

“Ever driven a tractor before?”

“No?”

“Wanna try?” Taehyung asked, looking over at Namjoon with a look that just screamed mischief.

“I can’t drive a car, let alone a fucking tractor, Taehyung!” Namjoon cried as he shook his head. He had gotten one driving lesson when he was eighteen and he decided that was enough for him, he didn’t belong behind the wheel.

“Ok ok, I’ll drive you around,” Taehyung laughed, his laugh was just as amazing as his smile “Do you need help getting up?”

“I… yeah, please,” Namjoon replied. The other man reached out a hand which Namjoon gratefully took, Taehyung’s hands were bigger than his after all, and pulled him up, straight onto his lap. Namjoon couldn’t help but go stiff, blushing from his neck up to the tips of his ears, how could Taehyung do that so casually and effortlessly when Namjoon was sure he weighed a ton? “Can you um… see ok with me like this?”

“Yeah, no problem, doesn’t go very fast anyway,” Taehyung hummed as he leant his chin on his shoulder, one arm slipping past his waist to grab the steering wheel, “plus I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager, we’ll be fine.”

Taehyung was true to his word, driving around not much faster than a jogging pace, pointing out different spots he thought were interesting. They spoke about so much and Namjoon learnt so many things about the younger man. He was twenty-seven, the oldest of three children and the only one still living at home as well as an avid consumer of almost every kind of art Namjoon could think of; everything from music to dance to fine art to photography, he adored it all. He had played the saxophone since he was young, getting his first one for his thirteenth birthday, and he had always wanted to learn to play more instruments, maybe piano or violin as well, but he couldn’t afford to buy and maintain so many pieces of equipment. He also talked a lot, very quickly, especially when he got excited, rambling endlessly about his favourite jazz musicians and painters as well as his family and friends. Namjoon didn’t think he got to speak much but Taehyung seemed to hang on his every word when he did, he was also absolutely ecstatic to meet an actual musician and asked at least a thousand questions. It was far from what he was used to with strangers, more akin to an exchange he’d have with Yoongi, yet it was endlessly enjoyable regardless, seeing Taehyung so happy made him happy.

“Taehyung!”

Both of their heads whipped around to a woman standing on one of the dirt paths, Taehyung waving with a wide smile. “Hi!”

“Put the tractor away and then come inside! We got a stack of bills this morning and they need sorting!”

He seemed to deflate at that, slumping against Namjoon’s back, “That’s my mom, I gotta go, she’s only a little lady but she can be scary when she wants to be.”

“Oh, ok,” Namjoon replied. He didn’t want their afternoon to end yet. “I guess I’ll um… find my way back to the place I’m staying.”

“Text me if you’re lost, I’ll come find you.”

His heart was hammering away in his chest as he nodded, climbing down with Taehyung’s large hands supporting him, “Thanks.”

“Come meet me at the tree again in two days at seven, I’ll bring dinner. I like hanging out with you,” Taehyung hummed, leaning back in his seat with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah… me too, I’ll see you then.”

“See ya, Hyung.”
__

“Someone seems awfully happy.”

“Who?” Taehyung asked, glancing up from the pile of bills he was slowly but surely documenting for just a moment before looking back down at them.

“You and whoever was on the tractor with you earlier,” his mother replied as she kept a close eye on him, watching the way he swirled the pencil in his hand.

“Namjoon-hyung?”

“Who’s ‘Namjoon-hyung’, mhm? Don’t recognise the name.”

“The songwriter from Seoul. He showed up today and he agreed to see me again in a couple of days and he’s here for two months and he’s really cool and funny and cute and handsome and kind and I really really like him,” Taehyung chatted on, his hands tapping the table in excitement and his legs bouncing.

“Is he now?” She couldn’t help but laugh, though part of her worried too. “Do you like him like a friend or…”

Taehyung blinked a few times before shrugging, “I’m not sure. Namjoon-hyung is just… can’t describe it, it’s really overwhelming but in a good way.”

“Don’t forget to check if he’s interested just in case, ok? I don’t want you falling for the wrong person and getting hurt,” she hummed. She made her way over to him and ran her hands through his hair, lovingly ruffling his new waves.

“I will, promise,” he muttered as he melted under her gentle touch. “He liked my hair by the way, he called it cute.”

“Told you he would!”

“Mom!”
__

“Is Taehyungie home?”

It was a voice Taehyung vaguely recognised from somewhere, someone he remembered from when he was younger perhaps. He knew who she was when he saw her though, he never forgot a face even if it had been years. They had been in the same grade in school but they were in different classes in high school, they hadn’t really spoken at all since they were twelve so what was she doing at his house now they were both nineteen? He couldn’t even hazard a guess.

“Hyu-” Taehyung’s little brother, only thirteen but getting far too tall for Taehyung’s liking, began to call but cut himself off when Taehyung came up behind him, “She asked for you.” His brother flashed him a smile before heading back into the living room, he said he was studying but Taehyung doubted that.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh. I just…” she looked so nervous, her hands shaking as she moved them from behind her back to present him with a bouquet of half a dozen white tulips. Forgiveness and remembrance. Taehyung blinked at her a few times before his eyes widened in realisation, she was giving him flowers because she was interested in him, not as a sign of forgiveness or remembrance.

Never had Taehyung ever really experienced attraction to women the way his classmates spoke about. He didn’t really know why but he was so different from them in countless ways, he wasn’t at all surprised whenever he discovered yet another new difference. He supposed the girl in front of him wasn’t bad looking though, she had tan skin from working in the fields, pretty brown eyes that sloped down at the ends, freckles across her nose and cheeks and long dark hair that rolled down past her shoulders. She was dressed cutely too, in light denim jeans, a hoodie that swallowed up her frame and a black beanie pulled down over her ears to keep them warm. Yet he couldn’t say he felt the urge to do anything with or to her really, not in the way it had been described to him before, maybe he just needed to get to know her better first.

“I know the guy is meant to confess with flowers and stuff but I… I didn’t wanna lose my chance,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet as she spoke. “So um… yeah, I think you’re really handsome and I wondered if you would go out on a date with me sometime.”

Taehyung smiled slightly as he took the tulips, “Sure.”
__

“God, this food is amazing, did you make it?”

Namjoon looked over the boxes of triangle kimbap, pan-fried dumplings, rolled omelette, yachaejeon and sliced-up fruit with a dimpled smile. He wasn’t really the best cook, mostly living off either delivery or whatever he could make in a microwave, so it was only when he was with Yoongi or when he went home to his parents that he had got good home-cooked meals. Each time he only realised how much he had missed such meals when he got a taste of it again.

“My mom made most of it cus I don’t really like cooking, I cut up the fruit though,” Taehyung hummed, his cheeks round with both food and his grin.

“She’s an amazing cook,” Namjoon replied before going back to eating as much as he could manage, the duo soon polishing off their entire dinner.

The sun slowly but surely set as they spoke endlessly to each other, about their childhoods, their favourite musicians, their reasons for disliking certain foods and their favourite plants. While Namjoon made a good case for why bonsai trees were the best, going into detail about the extensive clamping, pruning, wiring and the overall amount of effort that went into the art form, Taehyung simply wouldn’t buy it. His reasoning was that such plants weren’t naturally that way, it was forced to look perfectly aesthetically pleasing instead of being allowed to blossom fully, he much preferred his round-leaved sundew with beautiful round leaves covered with red hairs.

“A plant being carnivorous is way more unnatural than bonsai!”

“Is not! It’s really cool, it’s actually a really interesting adaptation to its environment, it can’t help that it grows in wetlands,” Taehyung explained through a slight pout.

“Oh so it can’t evolve to grow in a different habitat but it can evolve to produce insect-dissolving enzymes?” Namjoon retorted, still entirely unconvinced.

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

“It’s terrifying is what it is!” Namjon cried, shaking his head as he picked up his bottle of water to take a sip.

He really needed to cool down and stop being so upset over plants, he’d lost count of the amount of time he’d cried over his houseplants dying even when he cared for them so meticulously; he even put reminders on his phone calendar to make sure he remembered to water them at the exact right frequency. He really shouldn’t be so passionate about something so silly.

“I just think that-” Taehyung fell silent abruptly, blinking a few times at the ground before looking over at the songwriter with a blank face, “Are you gay?”

Namjoon choked. He coughed out his water into the grass between his legs, drool running down his chin as he tried to catch his breath again, gripping his knees. He felt a large hand on his back, rubbing in smoothing circles while another rested on his bicep and squeezed gently like a grounding pressure.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon managed weakly, “Just er… surprised by the sudden question is all.”

Taehyung gave his arm a final squeeze and then pulled away, his hands resting on his lap instead, “I didn’t like… offend you or anything, right?”

“No, of course not, it’s fine, really. Why’d you ask though?”

“Cus I am and I wanted to know if you were as well,” Taehyung replied with a small but clearly forced smile. The only smile he should have on his beautiful lips was the genuine ear-splitting kind, the kind that showed all his teeth and made his cheeks so perfectly round, the kind that made Namjoon’s chest feel like it could burst.

“Oh, ok, um… sorta, the gender of my partner isn’t really that important to me so er… yeah,” Namjoon mumbled, fiddling with the ends of his shorts.

It had never felt comfortable to come out, it just felt awkward even if he knew for sure he had nothing to worry about, so he avoided it as much as possible, the only people who knew were his little sister and Yoongi. He supposed it would be unavoidable if he did end up going any further than friendship with Taehyung, a prospect he had spent the past few days entertaining the thought of and absolutely loving every moment of. He didn’t feel ready but that had never stopped him before.

“Cool,” Taehyung hummed simply in response, “Well it’s… it’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow so I’ve gotta head home now I think.” That seemed believable, the sun long gone and replaced with a sky of twinkling lights, but something about the way Taehyung said it made it feel like a lie. It would be a good one to help him escape.

“Do you wanna meet again soon?” Namjoon asked as Taehyung hurriedly packed up all of the boxes and their cutlery into a backpack.

“Sure, how’s… tomorrow night here?”

Namjoon nodded with a weak smile, “Is nine ok?”

“Sure, I can bring drinks if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan, see you then I guess.”

Namjoon watched Taehyung’s form retreating into the darkness until he fully disappeared, swallowed by the night sky. He had too much to process for how tired he was. He still needed to get home though, trek back all the way to the house and sneak into his room as quietly as possible so as to not wake his elderly landlady like he was a teenager again. Something about it just felt so juvenile but he still felt everything so intensely, he couldn’t help but fall onto his back and yell as loud as he could.

“Fuck!”
__

“Hyung, you gotta help me.”

“What did you manage to break this time?”

“Nothing, why do you always assume I’ve broken something when I need help?” Namjoon groaned as he threw another stone into the river in front of him, glancing over at his phone when Yoongi’s laugh echoed from it. He could almost see the older man’s grin, filled with coffee-stained teeth and pink gums.

“Cus most of the time you have.”

Namjoon couldn’t deny that. He had long since lost count of the number of times he had called Yoongi, either in tears or close to it, with another broken item that he didn’t know what to do with. Shattered light bulbs and phones cracked beyond repair, broken door locks and handles, a snapped pen that leaked all over his favourite white t-shirt and a page of lyrics left in his pocket and sent through the washing machine. He really would have been entirely lost without his friend’s guidance and near-endless patience when it came to his constant mistakes, rarely scolding him because accidents happen.

Though he does remember the way Yoongi had truly torn into him a few days after his third anniversary, reprimanding him for going back again when something was clearly so wrong. He never raised his voice, but he had lost it that afternoon, begging Namoon to think with both his brain and his heart for once, not just one or the other when he was making decisions. He also knew how despite the fact Yoongi never said ‘I told you so’ that night at the club, he was undoubtedly thinking it as he wiped Namjoon’s face clean of tears and snot and drool and later vomit. He hoped that he would receive a better reaction that afternoon than he had to his past romantic endeavours. He didn’t need to though, not really.

“What you need help with then if you haven’t broken anything, mhm?”

“You remember the singer from the summer festival last year? Taehyung?”

“I remember you pinning over him for way too long when he never messaged you once,” Yoongi replied, the grin evident in his voice when he continued, “I think you said he had a beautiful tan and the best smile you had ever seen. Also that he was so talented and didn’t laugh at you when you gay panicked and froze when you tried to speak to him and that you wanted to bite both kinds of che-”

“Ok, so you remember him,” Namjoon cut in, blushing from his chest up to the tips of his ears.

“How could I not? You only spoke about him constantly for like two months straight.”

“Well, he only didn’t text me cus I gave him the wrong number and now we’ve spent some time together and he’s just… I’m really into him. He’s basically perfect, Hyung. He loves music and plants and he’s funny and unpredictable in the best way possible and we just… we contect I think. He’s just as awkward as I can be too. We’re seeing each other again tonight and I… I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask if he’s interested at all,” Namjoon rambled on with a fond smile. He always could when he felt strongly about something or someone.

“Do you think he might be interested as well?”

“He asked me if I was gay today so probably at least a little.”

Yoongi made a soft slurping noise, the one he often made when he was thinking, accompanied by the sound of what must have been the tapping of his fingers on his desk next to his phone. “I don’t know, Joon-ah, only you can know what feels right to you. Just do it at whatever pace feels natural to you, don’t force yourself to wait but don’t rush yourself either, whatever you want.”

“That is extremely unhelpful,” Namjoon groaned as he picked up another stone and threw it into the water with a loud plop.

It reminded him of how he used to skim stones with his sister whenever they went on day trips to the coast when they were younger. They used to stand at least three metres apart as they skimmed stones across the water the best they could with the waves, talking about anything from the best kind of stone for the game to their relationships to growing up together, both the positive and negative. He’d cried on a few occasions, silently letting the tears roll down his cheeks as he kept throwing stones. It was such an oddly comforting activity even if it made him miss her, he didn’t see her anywhere near enough.

“I’m not entirely all-knowing unfortunately so you’re gonna have to do this one by yourself, ok?” Yoongi hummed, his warmth and love spilling from out of the phone.

“Ok, I’ll figure it out, I guess.”

“You will, I know you will.”

“Thanks, Hyung.”
__

You could say they had been dating for a month when it finally happened. They had met up on a few Saturday evenings just after dinner and it had been fun, she was funny and interesting to talk to, he loved when she spoke about the idols she listened to even if she was a little bit embarrassed about it and he liked being around her. With more time Taehyung was sure he would be able to reciprocate her feelings fully until one evening.

It was just any of their other dates. The sun was long gone so they were sitting together on one of the dirt roads between their houses with a torch and an old iPod between them, each with an earphone as they listened to a mix of pop and jazz. It seemed like an odd combination at first but they both appreciated it, the perfect little mixture of both of their favourites. They were talking about something, he couldn’t remember what because his mind went blank the moment she grabbed his hands, hers so much smaller than his, everything looked small in his hands though.

“Taehyungie.”

“Yeah?”

“Can we kiss?”

Taehyung looked anywhere but her face, panic rising in his chest rather than the excitement he had expected. Shouldn’t he be excited to kiss a pretty girl? Why wouldn’t he be excited? Instead of shifting away like he wanted to, he took a deep breath before nodding with a weak smile. She squeezed his hands as she leaned in, their lips soon pressing together. It was warm and wet and uncomfortable and it made Taehyung want to squirm away from the touch instead of lean in for more, so unenjoyable he never wanted to do it again. He pulled away and wiped his mouth, his lips felt tingly in the worst possible way.

“Taehyung?” She sounded upset. Taehyung wasn’t surprised, he wished she wasn’t though, he hated upsetting people, it always made him feel awful.

“I’m sorry, I… I gotta go,” he muttered, stumbling to his feet and bowing deeply before running off as fast as he could. His chest was heaving and his legs burnt by the time he got to his spot, his safe place to sit against a tree and cry. He choked on his sobs.

What was wrong with him?

It was far from the first time he had asked himself that question. He often wondered why he just never quite seemed to fit in no matter what he did, why he always seemed to realise what people had meant just a bit too late, why he always had to be moving or fiddling with something or he’d lose his mind when no one else did, why he was so different.

Taehyung spent the rest of the night sitting there under his tree, rethinking everything he could remember, every emotion, every feeling he had ever felt towards someone. When he thought of the way people had described what it felt like to be attracted to someone, he realised that while he had never felt that for her, he had absolutely felt it about the handsome male idols she loved. They weren’t just beautiful in an objective or artistic way, they were beautiful in a way that made Taehyung wish he could meet them and hold their hands and get to know them. He supposed if there was one good thing to come out of that disaster, it was an answer to one or two of his questions.

The first signs of the morning sun were starting to appear on the horizon when Taehyung finally started to wander back in the direction of his home. He didn’t even try to hide the tear tracks that he was sure were on his cheeks when he shuffled into the living room. His parents stood together in the kitchen, both clearly exhausted with cups of what must have been coffee, their heads snapped over to Taehyung the moment he walked in. He could see the mix of relief and worry on their faces.

“Where have you been all night? You had us worried sick, Taehyung.” His mother sounded stern but she always did when she was scared for her children.

“Are you ok?” His father was far more gentle, he always knew when Taehyung could stand a lecture and when he couldn’t.

“I’m gay.”
__

Neither of them fully remembered what happened in that field, the drinks had made the whole night blur into one mess. It meant that Namjoon didn’t know for certain if he had confessed his attraction to the farmer that night but he was fairly sure he hadn’t, Taehyung hadn’t mentioned it at all in the few times they had seen each other since so it was safe to assume that even if he had, the other didn’t remember it either.

That afternoon they were out in the one flower field that lacked proper irrigation, Namjoon watching from afar as Taehyung walked the rows of flowers with a backpack sprayer on his back, watering the flowers that the seemingly mile-long hose couldn’t quite reach. He hummed songs the whole time, sometimes loud enough for Namjoon to make out, other times it was lost to the sound of the water. Either way, Namjoon loved every second of time they spent working together, he was far more productive when he worked with Taehyung’s company than when he was alone for the most part.

It was peaceful watering manually even if it was a pain in Taehyung’s back and shoulders, the sprayer weighed a ton when it was full of water, because it gave him time to daydream. Usually, his thoughts consisted of seeing his favourite musicians live, meeting Jimin and Jungkook in person, travelling the world, performing on as big of a stage as he could stomach, though that day was different. His mind kept drifting to Namjoon. It was entirely innocent, just more moments like the time they had spent together already and conversation topics he could bring up, things he wanted to hear Namjoon’s thoughts on, but he was so deep in it. It just felt so warm but not unpleasantly so. It was like a warm bed on a cold winter’s morning, he could lose himself in it forever.

A drop of water landed on Taehyung’s arm, then a second on his shoulder, then a third and a fourth and then he lost count as the downpour began. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t deal with the feeling of hundreds of rain droplets trailing down his skin and soaking into his clothes, the fabric soon sticking to his skin in a way that made him squirm to try to escape it. He had to keep his cool, Namjoon was watching him, he couldn’t cry over something as simple as the feeling of rain on his skin in front of the songwriter he admired so much. Taehyung still didn’t know how Namjoon would react and he didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Only he couldn’t do it, it was just too much. His skin felt itchy and awful, his hair was brushing against his face too much, the straps of the sprayer were digging into his shoulder painfully, the sudden winds’ whistling in his ears were too loud, his throat felt dry and tight and he could still fell Namjoon’s eyes on him, his once enjoyable presence now only sending Taehyung deeper into his panic. It was too much and he just needed to escape at least some of it.

The sprayer crushed some flowers as he shrugged it off as quickly as he could, soon joined by his t-shirt when he tugged it off and threw it somewhere, he wasn’t sure where, it wasn’t important. His legs felt weak, he needed to sit down or he was going to collapse. He sank to his knees and pressed his hands to his ears to help block out the sound of the wind, turning what sounded like a tempest to just a coastal breeze, almost soothing in comparison that it allowed him to think straight for just a moment. What was Namjoon going to think?

Do angels appear if you doubt them?

Taehyung was starting to think they did because Namjoon appeared beside him, just visible out of the corner of his blurry eye, and ever so gently slid his hands under Taehyung’s to replace them with headphones. Smooth jazz filled his ears, the calming kind that he listened to whenever he was stressed or angry, a detail he had never told Namjoon but the man just knew somehow, knew what to do based on what Taehyung was sure was pure instinct. He offered the farmer his hand, which was slowly and shakily taken, and then helped Taehyung to his feet, flashing a reassuring dimpled smile as he tugged his hand just a little to start guiding him along back to the Kim House. Taehyung was glad his mother had instructed him to show Namjoon the way to their house just in case anything happened.

Fields turned to wooden floors and Taehyung was sure he heard voices in the background but silky saxophone drowned it all out. He only really fully came back to when he was laying on his bed in nothing but his underwear when a mix of emotions came over him. Firstly, shame, Namjoon had seen him have a complete breakdown, no doubt crying and itching at his skin the whole time if the red marks all over his body were anything to go by. He despised being seen like that, even by his own family, he’d rather be alone to prevent anyone from teasing him any further, even more so if they learnt exactly what had set him off. Next was surprise, surprise that Namjoon hadn’t made fun of him, had acted, given him his expensive headphones in the rain and walked him home, not leaving until he was safe under his mother’s care once more. Then there was guilt, guilt that he had ruined what should have been a beautiful afternoon filled with conversation with his problems, that he needed so much help even though he was a fully grown man. Lastly, and most shockingly, was affection. Namjoon had looked after him so perfectly without him needing to say a thing, he couldn’t even if he wanted to in that state, the words got stuck in his throat and all that he could force past his lips were incoherent, strangled noises. The older man had still treated Taehyung with respect and care even when he was a complete mess.

Namjoon was all he had been waiting for and Taehyung would do anything to be with him for as long as possible.

That was the final thought in his mind before his body gave in to the exhaustion, plunging the world into darkness.
__

“I love him.”

“Fucking what? You can’t just start a conversation like that with absolutely no context, Tae.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung mumbled as he leaned back against the trunk of the tree he was sitting under, hiding from the afternoon sun. It was his favourite spot on the whole farm, far enough away from the roads so that no one could see he was there but not so far from the main part of the village that he had no service. He had gone there countless times to let himself completely fall apart, especially as a teenager, it was his safe place, his space to scream at the universe or cry his heart out until he felt brave enough to face society again. He had never brought anyone to it, keeping it his secret, only Jimin and Jungkook knew it even existed. He supposed Namjoon knew it existed as well in a way, he'd spotted Taehyung out there, but he didn’t know its significance, not yet.

“It’s ok, just slow down a little,” Jimin’s soft voice hummed from the phone in his lap, “What’s happened?”

Too much for only the few days that had passed since they last called. He had spoken to both of them just before he had last met up with Namjoon but he felt like he’d been through so much, like he’d fallen in love over the course of years instead of weeks. His mother was probably right when she said he was the most emotional person she had ever known, falling head over heels in love so quickly with both his passions and people now it seemed.

“A lot.”

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Namjoon. Almost his every waking thought was about the songwriter, about his beautiful dimples and plump lips with a mole just underneath them and kind eyes behind round black glasses and fluffy black hair peeking out from under baseball caps. About the way he laughed and the way he debated so seriously about his opinion on even the most trivial of things and the way he spoke about things he was passionate about. About how gentle his touch was even though he claimed to be the clumsiest man on the planet, about how much Taehyung wished he could wrap all his limbs around him and never let go, about how it might feel to wake up beside him.

“Ok, we can work through it together, break it down.”

“Like we used to do with Koo’s uni work?” Taehyung smiled just a little bit at the memory. It had been years since he last sat on his bedroom floor with his phone on his little low table, breaking apart the list of tasks Jungkook had posted to their group chat to create smaller and more frequent deadlines for him. It had always been a group effort to make sure he did the best he could.

“Yup. You at your spot or home?” Jimin hummed. Taehyung could hear his gentle smile, the kind he always had on when he tried to reassure him or Jungkook.

“Spot.”

“Ok, what happened the day we last called?”

“I ate lunch and then I met up with Namjoon-Hyung. I showed him how good I am at climbing trees and then I had to go water that one field, I don’t know why it’s still not irrigated, seriously, it’s so stupid. All of the other fields are so why not this one? I know we could afford to so-”

“Taehyung,” Jimin cut into his ramble, “Off-topic. You were watering the field, then what?”

“Started raining out of nowhere.”

“You have a coat with you?”

“No, the rainy season is only just starting so I hadn’t started carrying it around with me all the time yet.”

“Shit.”

Taehyung’s hatred of rain was well known by everyone who knew him, it was hard not to when he would avoid it like the plague, refusing to step out into anything more than a light drizzle for even a moment. He just couldn’t stand the feeling of wet fabric sticking to his skin, especially his chest and thighs, it was just so uncomfortable it drove him insane. He had three different waterproof coats so he could always wear one no matter the temperature, keeping him dry in both the burning hot rainy season and the rare winter showers.

“Yeah. I had a breakdown over it,” Taehyung mumbled like it wasn’t a given, “Basically stripped in the field.”

“While you guys were hanging out?” Jimin asked in a worried tone. He may have lived hours away but he was protective of Taehyung, he was sure the older man would get on a bus over to his little village for the sole purpose of yelling at anyone who had dared upset him these days.

“Yeah.”

“Double shit.”

Only it wasn’t, not really. It was embarrassing, sure, but Taehyung could just about overlook it because it proved that Namjoon was exactly the kind of person he craved in his life. Passionate and kind and gentle and helpful and interesting and adorable and so loveable. It was why he was in his current predicament in the first place, his stressful yet wonderful predicament.

“He was really nice though. Hyung gave me headphones and played jazz for me and held my hand and took me back home and he didn’t try and force me to talk or get mad at me when I couldn’t. He was just… yeah,” Taehyung explained, a slight smile on his face at the memory of Namjoon’s hand in his. It was just the right size to hold, smaller than his but not entirely dwarfed, and so soft as well, nothing like his own rough and calloused skin.

“Have you told him?” Jimin replied, clearly less worried than before but still on edge.

“That I’m autistic?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I was kinda worried he wouldn’t be cool about it and I didn’t wanna lose my new friend.”

“If he wasn’t cool about it you shouldn’t have been friends with him at all,” Jimin responded firmly.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about it anymore cus he’s definitely fine with it cus he helped me through a complete breakdown without me even telling him it could happen and what to do if it did,” Taehyung hummed, a smile creeping onto his smile. How had he gotten so lucky that someone so perfect had fallen straight into his lap?

“Ok ok. What happened after he helped you home?”

“Realised he’s literally the best man to ever live and then I fell asleep.”

Jimin burst out into high-pitched laughs, likely falling over himself with the force of it, Jungkook said he did all the time when he laughed that hard, that it was one of the most endearing things ever. “What the hell, Tae?!”

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Just… shit, you, Taehyung. You’re absolutely hilarious and I love you.”

“I love you too?” Taehyung mumbled slowly.

“Anyway, you love him, what are you doing about it?” Jimin eventually questioned when his giggles died down and he had caught his breath again.

“Tell him. Isn’t that what you’re meant to do?”

He snorted out another laugh, “I mean, you can, don’t have to.”

“I wanna be with him, how could I be with him if I didn’t talk to him about it? How is he meant to know?” Taehyung responded with a shrug.

“I mean some people can figure it out after you’ve dropped hints but not everyone can, we both know you need someone to explicitly tell you though. Like you said some girl who lived near you asked you as a teenager and you had no idea she was into you until she literally showed up at your doorstep with a bunch of flowers.”

“White tulips…” Taehyung muttered, his eyes widening. “I’ve figured out what I’m doing. Bye, Hyung.”

“Wait, wh-”

__

“Is Namjoon-hyung home?”

Namjoon shot up at the sound of a familiar voice out in the courtyard, his heart hammering in his chest. He hadn’t spoken to Taehyung in days, he wanted to let the farmer approach him first in case he was embarrassed or needed more time after what had happened in the field that afternoon. The songwriter didn’t know what had gone wrong or why he had jumped into action the way he did, why he chose to do the things he did, he could only hope he helped Taehyung though.

“I’m here,” Namjoon said as he slid his door as quickly as he could, creating a loud thud that startled both his elderly landlady and Taehyung. The moment he laid eyes on Taehyung he felt positively sloppy in just his basketball shorts and tank top, his hair a mess and bags under his eyes. Taehyung was gorgeous as always, his wavy hair now grown out enough to just about hide his eyes, dressed in a white cotton shirt that was a bit too big for him, another hand me down from his father no doubt, and dark brown linen shorts. When Taehyung smiled at him though, one of his big, genuine smiles that showed all his teeth and made his cheeks look so perfectly round, nothing else mattered.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Wanna go on a walk together?” Taehyung offered him a hand.

“Yeah, sure,” Namjoon replied. He only hesitated for a moment before taking the farmer’s hand, it fit so naturally in his, it felt almost like home. Taehyung led him along the dirt paths, positively beaming as he swung their intertwined hands, until they sat down at their tree. He wasn’t sure when it had become their tree but he loved it regardless. “Are you feeling ok now?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Taehyung responded, his smile dampening and the tips of his ears tinting red from embarrassment.

“It’s ok, seriously. I was worried about you though, what happened?”

He seemed to tense up at that, messing with the button on one of the cuffs of his shirt, popping it in and out of the buttonhole so quickly that he must have done it constantly. Namjoon had noticed Taehyung tended to fiddle a lot, whether it be just something as small as rubbing his thumbnail with his index finger or curling and uncurling his hands repetitively or as something as obvious as him jumping around or rocking when he was sitting, he just never seemed to be still for even a second. It was endearing in a way though.

“I… I have issues with… stuff,” he began, his gaze fixated on a mole on Namjoon’s thigh just above his knee. “Like rain and wet fabric and loud wind and too many different sounds at once and denim and hair clippers and shoes and just… a lot of things I guess.”

“Do you know why or are you just kind… like this?” Namjoon asked, unsure of his wording. He didn’t know how else to put it but it still felt too crude.

“Autism.”

“Huh?”

“Autism. I’m autistic,” Taehyung repeated quietly, his gaze flicking between Namjoon’s face and the ground like he was watching for something. Namjoon didn’t look at him strangely though. He didn’t prod or poke or question him, didn’t doubt him, didn’t seem to change like a switch had just been flipped inside of his mind. He smiled.

“Tell me if you need help with anything or don’t like something I do, ok?”

It felt like a weight off of his shoulders and it had Taehyung melting back against the tree, “Thanks, Hyung.”

“It’s no big deal, know you would help me too when you can,” Namjoon hummed. The truth is he already had, Taehyung had read through some of his lyrics when he was struggling. His opinion wasn’t as professional as Yoongi’s would have been but Namjoon valued it nonetheless because Taehyung knew what he was talking about when it came to the arts even as a hobbyist.

“I got you something.”

“Oh, you didn’t ha…” The words died on his lips as Taehyung pulled out a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers from behind the tree. It wasn’t something you could buy in a regular shop, he’d made it himself, tied the white ribbon around purple tissue paper himself. It was such a perfect combination of shasta daisies, a single purple hydrangea and a few sprigs of lavender, it made Namjoon’s hands shake as he took the bouquet. Taehyung had spoken about pressing flowers to preserve them at some point, Namjoon would have to get him to preserve some of them.

“Lavender symbolises happiness and peace, the hydrangea symbolises wanting to understand someone and daisies symbolise-”

“Loyal love.”

Those words had been locked in his throat for years, had burnt him from the inside out, but he was glad they had been, now he got to say them to someone who deserved them. Namjoon felt tears sting at the corner of his eyes despite his ear-splitting smile.

“Yeah… yeah, they do,” Taehyung mumbled with wide eyes, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m happy, really really happy.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry just… shit,” Namjoon laughed weakly as he wiped the tears from his eyes before they could spill down onto his cheeks.

“I made you happy enough to cry?” Taehyung muttered, looking down at his own bare feet instead of the songwriter.

“Yeah… you did, you make me so happy, Taehyung.”

“You make me happy as well… like a lot, way more than I thought some person could to be honest and I… I think I love you.”

Namjoon couldn’t wipe his tears before they rolled down his face anymore as he laughed so lightly, everything just felt so light, like finally seeing the grey clouds disappear after a storm. It was like heaven on earth, so floaty, he wished he could stay in that feeling forever.

“I love you too, I really do.”

Taehyung tackled him into a bone-crushing hug, squashing the songwriter with his whole body, Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest though, he was too busy holding the farmer close and taking in his floral scent. It felt so natural to hold Taehyung in his arms and hide his face in that mop of fluffy hair, to hear that overjoyed laugh right next to his ear. Everything about it felt so right. Namjoon felt like they could stick together and he could be happy for years. It was too soon Taehyung was crawling off of him with pink cheeks, rubbing his own shins in what Namjoon thought was an attempt to soothe his embarrassment.

“I erm… it’s embarrassing but I’ve never really been with anyone before. I dated some girl for a bit when I was a teenager but that wasn’t… I wasn’t attracted to her and I just. I don’t know what I’m doing at all,” Taehyung admitted softly, a bitter smile replacing his sweet one “It’s kinda pathetic that I’m twenty-seven and I haven’t done anything but just… yeah.”

“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that,” Namjoon replied as he reached out to rest his hand on top of Taehyung’s. He always seemed to relax under gentle touches. “You’re not pathetic, I mean it.”

“You think so?” Taehyung mumbled. He intertwined their fingers once more, stroking the soft skin of the back of Namjoon’s hand with his thumb, he didn’t think he would ever be able to stop marvelling at how delicate and soft the songwriter felt even when he was so broad and accidentally rough. He probably wouldn’t stop admiring him in general though. Everything about Namjoon was so special, a perfect mess of tender words and gentle touches and dimpled smiles and deep thoughts that Taehyung never had a chance of resisting even if he tried. Who had he saved in his last life to deserve someone like Kim Namjoon?

“I do. There’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced, Taehyung, it just means I’ll make sure we’re doing things at your pace.” He had one of the most reassuring smiles Taehyung had ever seen and he couldn’t help but smile as well as he nuzzled his nose into Namjoon’s cheek, drawing a laugh out of both of them.

“I’m glad you decided to come to my little village out of all of the places in the country.”

“Me too.”
__

“You decided on a name for it yet?”

Ever since Namjoon had kissed his last studio goodbye to gain more flexibility, he had been spending more and more time in Yoongi’s studio. Most of the time they just sat in silence on opposite sides of the small room, both with headphones on and working on entirely separate things. They still weren’t technically coworkers and Namjoon technically wasn’t meant to be there, but he was yet to be kicked out or even questioned so he was here to stay. Sometimes though Yoongi would turn around in his spinny desk chair and start talking out of nowhere, asking the younger musician about what he was working on.

“I’m honestly not sure yet, it needs to be good though.”

This was a personal project rather than one for work, it was too important for that, he couldn’t risk the company changing a single thing about it. He supposed it meant almost no one would hear it but he didn’t mind the same way he normally would, he made it for one person and that one person alone.

“You got any ideas yet?”

“Something to do with summer probably. The Summer of ‘17 maybe? Though it was more two summers than one so I don’t know if that would make sense.”

Namjoon flopped back, why was just the name of a song so hard? He had already perfected most of the lyrics and he and Yoongi had cobbled together the melody, the genre was far outside of both of their comfort zones but he had insisted on it. He thought the hardest parts were over but it seems he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“Yeah that wouldn’t make sense at all,” Yoongi agreed with a small nod, his own eyebrows furrowed in thought as well. “Maybe think about what actually happened, you know?”

“Yeah, I thi-” Namjoon’s phone ringing cut him off, he didn’t mind when he saw the name that had popped up on the screen. He could feel Yoongi’s fond smile fixated on him as he spoke. “Hey. Yeah, I’m feeling better now so I’m gonna come down on Sunday, think that’s when it’s gonna be least busy. Mhm. Tell her to not worry so much, I’ll eat whatever she makes, her kimbap was really good though. Yeah, I’m just working on a song… right now…”

A wide smile spread across Namjoon’s lips. He had it.

“I’m sorry but I’ve just had an amazing idea, I need to go now. Yeah, I’ll see you Sunday evening. Love you.”

“What idea is so amazing you just had to hang up on your poor partner as soon as possible, huh?” Yoongi teased with a soft laugh.

“I have the name.”

“Oh?”

“His Summer Song.”

“Sounds perfect, Joon-ah.”
__

It didn’t snow in Daegu the same way it did in Seoul. There was barely anything left on the pavements but a dirty icy slush by the time Namjoon got off his train and headed to the exit in search of the little beat-up old blue car that he was promised was waiting for him. It wasn’t hard to spot even in the low light of a winter’s evening, not when there was a familiar figure in a large puffy coat and green rubber rain boots leant up against it.

“Hey!”

That familiar figure was running over and dragging Namjoon into a tight hug before he had the chance to process anything else. He couldn’t help but laugh and hug back as gentle pecks were peppered all over the side of his face, cold lips pressed to warm skin.

“I missed you, Hyungie.”

“I missed you too, Taehyungie, but it’s fucking freezing out here, can we get in the car?”

Taehyung laughed as he pulled away, smiling one of his stunning smiles. His hair had gotten so long in the months they had been apart, Namjoon back in Seoul with his parents and Taehyung still out in his little village. He had seen it slowly growing longer in the pictures and videos Taehyung had sent but it was different to see the long fluffy mullet he was sporting, his bangs held back with a purple bandana that Namjoon was sure he’d taken from his mother, in person and have it tickle his face.

“Yeah, my fingers are gonna start going numb soon.”

“Then wear gloves.”

“No, they suck worse than shoes.”

Namjoon smiled fondly, shaking his head, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hyung. Now let's go home, my parents have cooked up a whole fucking feast.”

“Yeah, let's go home.”