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He was late to this goddamn interview and it wasn't even his fault. As he sprinted for the door of the elevator, begging the individuals inside not to let it close on him, Namjoon briefly sent up curses on behalf of his roommate, Jimin, for stopping Namjoon at the door and telling him flatly that he couldn't interview at a fashion magazine wearing, as he so kindly put it, 'that'. Well, at least if he didn't get the fucking job then he knew it wasn't because he was dressed poorly, Namjoon griped internally as he tried to flatten his hair in the reflection on the elevator door. No, he wasn't going to get it because he was almost late.
Arriving on the proper floor, Namjoon spilled out of the elevator headlong and practically dived for the reception desk. "I'm here for an interview?" At the receptionist's expectant look, Namjoon added, "The PA position?"
The receptionist's expression morphed into one of pity. "He's waiting for you," he told Namjoon with a sympathetic expression. The receptionist pointed down a hall. "First left. You'll see it, just go in. Good luck!"
That did not bode well, Namjoon thought, but followed the instructions nonetheless. He was here, he was dolled up, so he may as well try to knock the interview out of the park. He turned left, spotted the massive glass wall of the fashion editor's office almost instantly, and took a deep breath before crossing the floor and knocking on the door.
The individual seated at the desk looked up, adjusting a pair of glasses on their nose with a furrowed brow. The sigh they gave was visible from outside the door, and Namjoon was already wondering if this was a good idea when they waved him in. He opened the door and approached, bowing respectfully on the other side of the desk. When Namjoon surfaced, he paused for a moment, blinking in confusion at his potential future boss.
Well. This was not what he was expecting.
Kim Seokjin, known simply as Jin by everyone in the fashion industry, was absolutely gorgeous. Blonde hair fell softly around his face. His eyes were soft and beautiful, though their gaze was sharp as they took in every detail of Namjoon's appearance. And his lips - the lips that Jin was currently pursing thoughtfully - were ... well. Namjoon kind of wanted to touch them to see if they were as plush as they looked. He decided right then and there that he'd be happy to work for Jin just so that he could look at him every day.
Then, of course, Jin opened his mouth, and promptly shattered any dreams Namjoon might have had of sweeping the fashion editor off his well-clad feet.
"Kim Namjoon," he said, and frowned. "I don't know if I like that. It might get confusing, having two Kims... not that you'd be as important as I am, of course. You're late."
Namjoon blinked. And blinked again. "Excuse me?"
"You're late," Jin repeated, sounding almost bored. "Punctuality is important in my personal assistant. I need things to be perfect before I arrive, something that the last holder of your position was, unfortunately for them, not capable of handling. Are you capable of handling it, Namjoon?"
"Yes," Namjoon said firmly, partially because there was no way he was going to tell this ...harpy ... that he wasn't capable of anything, and partially because he liked to interview well. He had some pride, even if he'd let Jimin dictate his fashion choices this morning. "I am."
Jin pushed his glasses down his nose and examined Namjoon over them, thoughtfully. Shoving them back onto the bridge of his nose with a 'hmmm', Jin asked, "Why do you want to work here?"
Namjoon had done interview prep. He'd done a little (well, honestly, not much. Fashion was not his thing) research on Runway magazine, and some on his potential future boss. He'd worked through the standard set of questions that people asked at interviews with an impatient Jimin - including this one. The way the question was delivered, though, combined with Jin's attitude, had Namjoon rethinking his standard answer to the question.
"I don't," he told Jin, watching his eyebrow climb higher on his face. "I'm not interested in fashion. But this is a prestigious firm, and it's all about padding your resume these days." Namjoon shrugged his blazer-clad shoulders, and Jin watched him thoughtfully, the eyebrow somehow softening. "But I can do the job. I'm capable. And I'll provide a new perspective for you."
Jin leaned back in his chair, showing off the excellently built lines of his torso and surveying Namjoon from a greater distance. "Hmmm," he said, looking Namjoon up and down once more, as though he were under a microscope. "Hmm."
Namjoon raised his own eyebrow in response, waiting for a reply. Jin sighed. "As my last three assistants have all been the same sort, I suppose that I owe it to myself to try out someone different. Who knows, maybe you'll be useful." Namjoon resisted the urge to bristle. Maybe? "You'll gain some valuable experience, and I... will gain a new perspective." Jin nodded, decisively. "You may go. I expect you back here tomorrow. You can get details from the... reception desk. What's-his-name."
With that, Jin looked back down at the magazine spread in front of him, thoughtfully. Namjoon, thoroughly confused and mildly irritated, hesitated until one hand came up and made a 'shoo'ing motion towards the door.
"Thank you," Namjoon said shortly, pushing back from the desk. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Looking back, Namjoon supposed that he should have taken the many signs that his life was about to take a sharp left turn into hell.
He'd been working for Seokjin for about six months now, and it was the holiday season. Did that mean he was about to get a break? No, of course not. What that meant, of course, was that he was about to be worked harder than ever, as if Jin begrudged the time off that he was obligated to give Namjoon around Christmas and was trying to make up for lost time.
At least he had the routine down pat... though Seokjin always did his best to surprise him.
♛
7:00 AM
His roommate didn't even stir when Namjoon slipped out of their apartment to start his morning routine. His day began before he even clocked in: Namjoon had to pick up coffee (if coffee-flavoured, quintuple-cream syrupy concoctions counted as coffee) for Seokjin and himself from Seokjin's favourite coffee shop, go back one train stop to the office building, grab any proofs for Seokjin from the creatives department that were ready, sort mail, check his email and pour Seokjin's (hopefully) still-warm coffee into a pink ceramic mug.
Seokjin started at 8 AM, without fail. He was never a hair earlier or later, unless he had something to do off-site. Usually, though, Namjoon had everything ready when Seokjin appeared (fashionably dressed and perfectly coiffed) in the door. Usually, Namjoon was sitting at his desk, dealing with phone calls and waiting Seokjin's dulcet tones of summoning. He was used to this. After a few failed starts and several lectures on how Seokjin needed his "coffee", you could set a watch by Namjoon's early-morning routine.
Which was why, when he walked into Seokjin's office toting the coffee, a muffin (for Namjoon. He didn't think that Seokjin ate anything other than the souls of the fashion designers on level 5) and the proofs, Namjoon stuttered to a halt, doing his best not to spill the coffee in his shock. His eyes instantly darted to the wall clock - 7:32 - then back to Seokjin, who was seated at his desk, baby blue shirt sleeves rolled up and tie somewhere on the chair behind him, looking as though he hadn't slept.
"Um," Namjoon said eloquently, and Seokjin looked up, expression momentarily open and tired and almost friendly, before it shuttered and returned to the composed expression he always had. "Is that the coffee?" he asked by way of good morning, and reached out one hand to Namjoon. His synapses fired, then, as used as he was to Jin demanding things with that exact gesture, and Namjoon crossed the floor and handed Seokjin's cup to him. "D'you want me to..." he started, but before he could ask if Seokjin needed his mug, Jin put his lips to the plastic lid and drank. Namjoon blinked. Had he crossed into an alternate universe? Seokjin sipped at his coffee delicately, not saying anything, while Namjoon stood there like a gormless statue. Jin's gaze flickered upward, to Namjoon's face, and then back to his hands.
"Is that a ... muffin?" Seokjin asked, tone somehow woeful, and Namjoon resisted the urge to frown. It was his muffin. It was his favourite muffin. There was no way that his boss was going to take it, even if he'd just received the news of the passing of his favourite aunt. Namjoon amended that thought. Perhaps he'd give the muffin to Seokjin if something truly terrible had happened, but there was no evidence -
Physical Namjoon interrupted Mental Namjoon's maundering by saying "Chocolate coconut," and offering the muffin to Seokjin as if his limbs were being controlled by remote. Seokjin nodded and asked "May I?" before taking Namjoon's stunned silence as a 'yes' and nipping the paper bag from him with delicate fingers.
"Uh," Namjoon tried again. "Is everything alright?" Jin looked up at him in the middle of neatly breaking the muffin into pieces with one eyebrow raised, and Namjoon instantly regretted asking the question.
"Why wouldn't everything be alright?" Seokjin asked, though his voice was tense and drawn, making Namjoon's brow furrow in concern. "Do I not look alright?"
"You look fine," Namjoon reassured him, and Seokjin sniffed, looking back down at the papers on his desk. "I look fantastic," he informed Namjoon, who covered up a tiny smile. "Can I have those proofs?"
"Yessir," Namjoon said, handing them over. When it was clear that Seokjin didn't want anything else, Namjoon bowed his way out of the room and headed for his desk - without a clue or a muffin. Well, he mused, the day could only get better from here.
8:00 AM
Namjoon was wrong, he thought. The day could get far, far worse.
Seokjin was in a terrible mood today, and was ready to rip through peons like paper. At exactly 7:58 AM, he'd gone down to the wardrobe and emerged looking as though he'd slept 12 hours, leisurely selected a shirt and slacks, and just happened to look this good. The last was certainly true, Namjoon grumbled, deliberately not making eye contact as Seokjin swept by his desk at 8:00 and only getting up very reluctantly when Jin trilled "Nam-jooooon" from his inner sanctum.
And today, they were going over accessories.
Seokjin took accessories very seriously. While he didn't always wear them himself, he was incredibly picky about them on others, especially on the models who graced the pages on Runway. It was as if a belt or a necklace were the keystone of an architectural marvel, without which it would all fall down, and Seokjin was incredibly picky about that integral piece. Which meant bickering. For hours.
Namjoon grabbed his notepad and some water before helping Yoongi (the head designer, who scowled at everyone in equal measure but was a complete genius with both clothes and managing Jin) wheel in hangers and trays full of various accessories. Namjoon was pretty sure he'd never seen so many chokers in his life.
"Alright," Seokjin said, pursing his lips in that famous Jin expression, which everyone adored and was terrified of in equal measure. Namjoon had come to hate the sight of it, as it usually signaled a massive amount of work for him, which was probably why he had an urge to bite it every time it appeared. He poised his pencil over his notepad, looking down at it instead of speculating what Seokjin would do if Namjoon tried to stop whatever command he was about to give with his own lips. This was a weird day, Namjoon mused, and Seokjin took a deep breath.
"Let's get started with the cover," he said, and everyone stood to attention.
There was no hint of the tired, slightly off Seokjin that had been in his office long before 7:30 this morning. No, this was Jin, through and through, who sorted through earrings and ties with the fury of the inspired, holding up suggestions and caustic remarks about quality before them all. Yoongi, far more used to this than Namjoon, was miraculously patient, even when Jin happened to say that one design was "boring" and wondered aloud why they'd kept it in the spread.
"Because you can't have pastry and cake throughout the whole magazine," Yoongi said patiently. "You need bread, too." He then pointed at what appeared to be a blue plastic harness designed to be worn over clothes. "What about with that on top?"
Seokjin hummed, snatched up the harness, and considered it from every angle - and that was that, problem solved. Other designers in the room were less fortunate.
"No!" Seokjin snapped at one, tracing the outline of a heavy bracelet with one fingertip. "We know Jungkook is going to be wearing that in the show, honestly - you think that's going to work?"
The designer actually protested. Namjoon braced himself. "But if we got Taehyung instead-"
Seokjin's gaze flickered at the mention of his younger brother (also a model), and Namjoon frowned. Taehyung and Seokjin actually got along, despite the fact that they were polar opposites (in personality, though their family had apparently lucked out in the looks department). The flicker was gone in an instant, however, and Seokjin turned back to the designer with an icy smile. "Are you suggesting that I'm wrong?"
Namjoon shook his head at the designer frantically, only quelling when Seokjin briefly glanced his way. The designer quailed. "...no?" she muttered, and Seokjin raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think so. You can leave."
The designer opened her mouth, only to snap it shut at Jin's glare. Without saying a word, the designer turned on one spindly heel and left, and Jin let out an exhale. "Now," he said sweetly, "Let's get back to work."
Thankfully, they managed to get through it without further mishap, and Seokjin shooed Namjoon, Yoongi and co. off to get everything done. They left Jin in his office, staring out the window with a thundercloud of an expression.
"...don't let anyone in to see him," Namjoon told the receptionist, before following Yoongi to his workroom.
9:00 AM
Settling across from Yoongi at his workbench and flipping to the front of his notes, Namjoon hesitated. Yoongi, at his computer waiting for Namjoon's insight, turned to him with a snort and a raised eyebrow, and reached across the bench to tug Namjoon's collar straight. He let him - Yoongi might not dress like a fashion designer, but he had a good eye for that sort of thing. He'd take Yoongi's advice any day, and not just on fashion.
"...Thanks," Namjoon said after a moment, and Yoongi gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Just say it," he told Namjoon, turning back to his computer screen. "We're not going to get started until you do, and I'd like to do this before His Majesty calls you back to his command."
Namjoon made a noise of protest at that, but didn't have anything else to say. Yoongi made a scoffing sound, still not looking up from his screen, and waved a hand as if to indicate that he'd better get out with it.
"Is something... wrong with Seokjin?" Namjoon tried, and Yoongi wrinkled his nose at his screen, clicking at something intently. Namjoon kept going. "He was in early today. I don't know if he went to bed."
"I don't know if Seokjin would appreciate you mothering him," Yoongi said dryly. Namjoon made a sound of indignation. He wasn't mothering anyone. "But yes, he did seem off."
"Because he criticized your design?" Namjoon asked, and received a flat look in response. "Because he didn't do it enough," Yoongi pointed out patiently. "When was the last time an accessory session didn't take three hours? Four?" Namjoon considered this, tapping his fingers rhythmically on Yoongi's workbench. "So something's bugging him, yeah. Why, you worried he's going to be pushing you harder than usual?"
He shook his head. "No," he mused, wondering why he was worried. It wasn't like he was getting attached to Seokjin. He was incredibly irritating, and Namjoon wasn't even sure that the man was human. The only thing he had going for him was how attractive he was, and maybe how much he liked cats. Namjoon sighed. "Well, I hope he gets over it soon," he told Yoongi, and shook out his notebook. "You ready?"
"I'm the one waiting for you," Yoongi shot back amicably, and they got to work.
Of course, they were only about halfway through the session when Namjoon's phone started buzzing with many, many texts. Namjoon sighed and gave Yoongi an apologetic bow before rushing off to see what (as Yoongi had so aptly put it) His Majesty wanted next.
10:00 AM
"The Christmas event," Seokjin declared as soon as Namjoon appeared in his doorway. "I have a very specific list of requests, because it must be perfect."
Namjoon debated asking if he could get coffee, or something stronger, before they began what was inevitably going to be a lengthy discussion full of impossible demands. Seokjin's expression, along with the fact that day drinking wasn't really an appealing idea, kept him from doing so, and Namjoon hurried into the office, notepad in hand. Most people liked to type, but Namjoon preferred writing. It helped him to remember and visualize things, particularly when they were blasted at him in random order.
Jin waited (barely) for Namjoon to get settled, still standing at the window with his hands clasped behind his back. "I want a harpist," he started, and Namjoon sighed and began to take notes. If Jin hadn't been a fashion editor, he could have been an event planner, for he attacked each detail of the event with the same fervor that he'd discussed the velvet chokers earlier (well, perhaps not the same amount precisely, considering how adamant Jin was about accessories). Namjoon's hand was beginning to cramp, however, when he heard Jin's voice going up in pitch, as if he was getting upset. Alarmed, Namjoon dropped his pen, but Seokjin didn't even notice. Hmm.
"- and I guess we have to make sure that everyone knows they can bring a plus one, though I don't see why, some people just shouldn't be allowed at this sort of function-" Jin was saying, and Namjoon tilted his head, wondering what he was going on about. His question was answered shortly. "The models, for instance. They're supposed to be accessible to the public! They can't do that if their irritating nurse boyfriend is hanging off their arm like some sort of barnacle-"
While Seokjin dissolved into mutters, Namjoon folded his hands in his lap. "Is this about Taehyung?" he asked gently, bracing for Jin to snap that it was none of his business. To his great surprise, Seokjin stopped mid-rant and swung around, fixing Namjoon with a curious expression.
"How did you know that?" he asked, and Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?" he continued cautiously. "You can talk to me. I'm pretty sure you'd fire me if I spilled," (Would I ever, muttered Seokjin) "So..." He spread his fingers expressively, then sat back in his chair. "What's wrong? I thought you liked Taehyung's boyfriend. Hoseok, right?"
"Do not say that name," Seokjin hissed, spinning back to the window. "He's filling Taehyung's head with the wrong sort of ideas." Namjoon raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Hoseok was the nicest person known to man, he was sure. He was a nurse, and despite having a perpetually tumbling schedule, was always awake and cheerful enough to help anyone out. Even Seokjin liked him, and Seokjin was, well... Jin. After some time, Seokjin made a grumpy noise and continued. "Taehyung wants to quit modeling to be an actor," he said, shortly. "We had an argument. Hoseok's on Taehyung's side, and he's just -" a frustrated, inarticulate sound emanated from Seokjin's mouth, and Namjoon sighed and stood, crossing over to the window to stand next to Jin.
"Are you mad because Taehyung is changing careers, or because his boyfriend is taking attention from you?" Namjoon murmured, and Seokjin looked at him sharply. He didn't say anything, though, so Namjoon decided to continue. "Or both? You can't monopolize your brother's attention forever, you know."
Seokjin said nothing, though his nose wrinkled. There was a moment of silence, where they both watched the city below, hands in their pockets and eyes fixed on the tiny cars.
"I suppose I might be jealous. Or envious. Perhaps both," Seokjin whispered, and Namjoon (unsure if he was supposed to have heard that or not) merely nodded companionably. Seokjin then turned to him and stabbed him in the chest with one finger. Namjoon winced. "Not a word," Seokjin warned. "Now, I need you to go book that location, and you'd better go down and deal with catering yourself."
Namjoon wasn't sure what he had expected. A heart-to-heart? A hug? He glanced at the clock longingly, wondering if he could get coffee on the way, and Seokjin followed his gaze.
"I don't pay you to sit around here all day," he said pointedly, and Namjoon sighed, wrinkling his nose at his employer.
"Yessir," he drawled, and left Seokjin to his thoughts.
11:00 AM
However, Namjoon managed to take a brief pause before he was forced to wander off and harangue caterers and flatware suppliers into cooperating with Seokjin's intricate requests. He shot off a quick, surreptitious text message as he headed down in the elevator, crossing his fingers that it worked. Just about instantly, he received more than one reply, the recipient of his text obviously worried, and Namjoon smiled in triumph before shoving his phone into his pocket. Patting himself on the back, he pressed out into the throng of the city, ready to do battle over ice sculptures and waitstaff uniforms. For someone who wanted to be a journalist, Namjoon was getting an incredible knack for organizing and diplomacy. Perhaps it would come in useful, though - one never knew.
He couldn't say that he'd miss this job, though, Namjoon mused after he'd successfully retrieved a book of china and tablecloth patterns from the caterer, and then stopped in his tracks, brow furrowed, as something twinged uncomfortably in his chest. He wouldn't miss the job, though, Namjoon thought, chewing on his lower lip as the other pedestrians jostled around him. It was not an ideal job, with the fetching and carrying and putting up with Seokjin's perfectionism and mercurial temper. It was not an ideal job, with how Seokjin demanded the impossible, and sometimes made Namjoon want to scream with frustration. So why the discomfort at the thought of leaving? Curious.
His phone chimed again, and Namjoon looked down at it, shaking out of his mental fugue. He still had 6 months to go, Namjoon told himself as he gave a hurried reply and changed directions, heading back to the office. Hopefully he could time it just right...
Namjoon managed to get back to his desk, laden with samples and notes, just in time to see Taehyung hurry out of the elevator and cross the floor, clearly concerned, towards Seokjin's office. Namjoon watched him go with a tiny, smug smile, and watched as Seokjin (with his glasses back on his face and a furrowed brow) looked up to see his younger brother. He stood, Taehyung propped his hands on his hips, and Namjoon didn't even need to hear the dialogue to know exactly what was being said. Now, perhaps, Seokjin would be in a better mood. Namjoon might even get to go home earlier than 7, for once, he mused, and set to work, organizing all the material that he'd picked up and occasionally glancing at the two brothers through the glass door. He'd made sure nobody would disturb them, and now he could bask in the knowledge of a job well done.
Eventually, Namjoon glanced up to see the two brothers smiling at each other. Seokjin said something, gesturing with his chin towards the door, and Taehyung blew an exaggerated kiss and left, making a beeline for Namjoon's desk and ignoring the horrific faces that Seokjin was making at him in reply.
"So," Taehyung said, leaning on the front of the desk, "I guess it was a false alarm, huh? Seokjin wasn't anywhere near that big workplace accident that you mentioned."
"Fancy that," Namjoon said absently, flipping through his notebook. He glanced up at Taehyung. "There was so much going on, I must have missed him."
"Mhmm," Taehyung agreed. "Well, thank you." Namjoon hummed noncommittally, flapping a hand at Taehyung.
"So, are you going to be an actor?" he asked, and Taehyung beamed.
"I'm so excited! I've got to start looking for auditions. I'd love to talk about it, but I have to go tell Hobi first - oh, and Seokjin wants to see you."
Namjoon really looked up this time, putting the notebook down. He glanced warily at Seokjin's office, where the aforementioned fashion editor was pacing thoughtfully in the middle of the carpet. "Now?" he asked, and Taehyung reached over and patted Namjoon's head consolingly. "Be brave," he proclaimed, delivering the line in a booming tone more suited for a war drama. Namjoon sighed and gave a tiny smattering of applause. "If I don't come back, tell my roommate that I was the one who broke the microwave," Namjoon said solemnly, and headed in to see what Jin wanted now.
"Namjoon," Seokjin said as soon as he opened the door enough to hear him, "Did you tell Taehyung I was dying?"
"Dying?" Namjoon said innocently, smoothing his hands over his sweater. Seokjin wasn't looking at him, but he could practically feel the pursed lips. He tugged at his collar nervously. "I didn't do anything of the sort. I did, however, get all the samples you wanted. They're just waiting for your approval, and then I'll run them back."
Seokjin made a small huffing noise of irritation and spun, crossing the room towards Namjoon with intent. Namjoon stayed rooted to the spot, not sure if he'd taken a massive gamble by meddling in his boss' personal affairs (even if it had worked out for the best). Jin walked right into his personal space, peering into Namjoon's face with a searching, expectant expression, as if looking for some hint of duplicity or amusement. Namjoon just looked back at him, and eventually Jin made a 'tch' sound and stepped away.
"I'm feeling energized," he told Namjoon over one shoulder, crossing to his desk without even mentioning what had just happened. "Get me steak - you know, from that restaurant I like? Baked potato, green salad. You know the drill."
Namjoon blinked. "Sir," he said, tucking his hands in his pockets, "That restaurant doesn't open until - " he checked his watch - "It doesn't open for four more hours."
Seokjin sat down with emphasis, tugging his notes towards him. "You heard me," he said. "Steak."
Murdering your boss is bad, Namjoon told himself, resisting the urge to rub at his temples. Murder is bad. "Anything else?" he asked calmly, and Seokjin shook his head, waving him away. Namjoon sighed and turned on one heel, only to be forestalled by a quiet: "Namjoon - wait."
He turned back. Seokjin was looking at his desk, brow furrowed, lower lip stuck out thoughtfully. "Please leave the samples with me," Jin murmured, and tapped his desk thoughtfully. "And thank you."
Namjoon inclined his head, knowing what Seokjin meant. It didn't appear, however, that he was going to change his mind about having a mythical steak for lunch, and so Namjoon left the room, not exactly sure what had just happened.
Well, he told himself, snatching up his wallet and heading out of the office to work further miracles on Jin's behalf, at least he's attractive?
12:00 PM
Having worked for Jin for six months, Namjoon was no slouch at making something out of Jin's over-the-top demands. On his first week, Seokjin had called Namjoon from a cab and requested that he get him a private or at least first-class flight to Tokyo in the next hour. When he'd returned, he'd told Namjoon that he needed his entire house repainted, and that he not only needed a new apartment to stay in, but all his furniture moved out of his home for the duration of the painting. So a steak, really, was not a big deal, no matter how much of a pain it was. Namjoon only had to deal with one or two flabbergasted cooks before receiving Seokjin's lunch and heading back, carefully toting the gold-embossed bag in both hands.
However, for some reason, Seokjin started asking Namjoon for a lot.
"Namjoon," he called at 12:09, "I need a belt."
"I can go down to wardrobe-"
"No," Seokjin said decidedly, and flipped his computer screen towards Namjoon. "I need this belt. It's the perfect accompaniment to the jumpsuit for page 39."
Namjoon eyed it carefully, taking note of the name. "I can have it ordered-"
"Now," Seokjin pushed, tone mild. Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him, and Seokjin just looked back, expression curious.
"Okay," Namjoon acquiesced. "Back in a few."
At 12:23, Namjoon received a text.
"Pick up a plant for the office," he read aloud, and stopped to read it again. "A plant?" he asked nobody in particular, ignoring the curious look he was getting from passers-by. Did Jin even know how to take care of a plant? He was going to pick up this plant, and then have to take care of it for the rest of its existence, Namjoon was sure. His phone vibrated again, and he looked down, wrinkling his nose.
-And a book on plant care.
-Don't get something complicated!
"It would serve him right if I got him a cactus," Namjoon muttered, and headed back out to the bewildered driver, telling him to take him to the nearest gardening centre.
"Don't ask," he said wearily, and the driver chuckled before pulling off into traffic.
At 12:51, toting belts (in more than one colour- Namjoon had foreseen the inevitable demand to "go back and get one in pink" ) and what the gardener had assured him was an unkillable plant, Namjoon hauled himself back into the office. He was longing for lunch, and reflecting on whether fixing Seokjin and Taehyung's misunderstanding had been the right thing to do - because if this was Seokjin in a good mood, he was going to have worn holes in his shoes by the end of the day.
He swept into the office, offered Jin the belts and received a nod of approval, and then presented him with the plant.
"You did get me a plant," Seokjin mused, and Namjoon blinked.
"Was I not supposed to?" he asked, voice tight, and Jin looked up from curiously poking at the leafy stalks with an odd expression.
"Thank you, Namjoon," he said warmly, and Namjoon blinked twice. "That'll be all for now."
Right, he thought as he left Seokjin to bond with his plant, heading over to give Yoongi the newly-acquired belts. Why don't I believe you?
1:00 PM
Miraculously, he managed to go to lunch without Seokjin sending him a text or calling the cafeteria to see if he was there (you might laugh, but it had happened before). When he returned, somewhat refreshed (and certainly more caffeinated), he bypassed a courier that was just leaving Seokjin's office - and the courier was smiling. Namjoon frowned at him thoughtfully, nearly running into his desk. Couriers that had to see Jin never smiled. Namjoon had taken to intercepting them before they could get to Jin, because it was inevitable that Jin would say something cutting and feelings would be hurt on all sides (the courier's because Jin had insulted some part of his dress or manner, and Jin because there was something as mundane as a courier in his office).
This was merely further evidence that something strange was going on in Seokjin's head. Namjoon could only conclude that the incident with Taehyung had rattled him more than usual, because what other explanation was there? Seokjin was almost nice.
This was highly confusing to Namjoon, who had resigned himself to the fact that Seokjin was a pain in the ass. A handsome pain in the ass, but a pain nonetheless, and not the good kind.
Then again, Namjoon had obviously seen something that was human and reachable in Seokjin, or he wouldn't have been nice to him. Namjoon groaned, and hoped that Seokjin would do something irritating and bossy quickly, so he could resume the normal course of his life.
"Namjoon!" Seokjin called sweetly, and he sighed in relief.
"That's my cue," he muttered, and headed into Seokjin's office.
2:00 PM
He'd asked for irritating and bossy, Namjoon told himself one hour later. He had nobody but himself to blame.
The last hour had been full of Seokjin, who was working frantically over the next layout. Nobody could ever accuse him of coasting - he worked hard, and he worked to the exclusion of all else. Which meant that everyone else worked with him, even if he was insisting on testing out flash tattoos for one particular shoot and hotly debating colour trends with Yoongi the next.
This is a good job, he told himself, goodwill of the previous hour having been drained out of him by Kim Seokjin's insistence of using Namjoon to model a variety of necklaces and then scolding Namjoon on his posture. He'd even adjusted Namjoon's posture himself, pushing at the base of his spine at which point Yoongi had snickered and Namjoon had felt his ears flush in embarrassment.
This is a good job, Namjoon reminded himself, escaping to get fresh coffee for what had to have been the 27th time. A good job, and he was lucky to have it.
"Namjoon!" came the imperious voice of his boss, and Namjoon scowled at the coffee machine, so close and yet so far out of reach.
He's lucky he's so pretty, he grumbled internally (his mantra for the last hour, which kept him from smacking Seokjin in the back of his perfectly coiffed head), before turning around to see what his boss needed now.
"There you are," Seokjin said, as if Namjoon hadn't just been in the room 5 minutes earlier. "Namjoon, I need you to model something for me so I can show Yoongi what I'm talking about. Take off your sweater."
Namjoon's mouth dropped open. Yoongi actually giggled, before turning it into a cough. "Excuse me?" Namjoon asked, red-faced, and Seokjin paused, turning the full force of one raised eyebrow on Namjoon.
"I need to see this blazer on someone, and you've got a close enough build to a model..." he said, as if this should have been obvious to Namjoon. "Sweater. Off."
Well, he wasn't asking for anything else to come off, Namjoon reasoned, and it was getting ...warm in here anyways. He muttered something that might have been "yessir" before putting his notepad down and tugging off his sweater, leaving him in a thin button-up and with messy hair. Seokjin turned to the rack at his side as Namjoon patted awkwardly at his hair, and then crossed the floor with the blazer, coming around behind Namjoon to help him put it on.
"See," he was saying, as Namjoon woodenly tucked one arm, than the other, into the jacket, very aware of Seokjin at his back, "It's a lovely colour, but we need something to make it pop. So-" And then Seokjin's hands were at his neck and shoulders, smoothing the blazer down, tugging a scarf delicately into place. Namjoon held his breath as Seokjin came around to his front, hands deftly tying the scarf into a complicated shape. "See?" he told Yoongi, who peered up at Namjoon, eyes dancing with laughter.
Breathe, Yoongi mouthed at him, and Namjoon did, only to get a lungful of Seokjin's cologne. He coughed, and Seokjin patted at his shoulder ineffectively.
"I see what you mean," Yoongi agreed. Seokjin tugged at the scarf, probably trying to pull it into a better shape, and Yoongi's eyes practically disappeared into a smile. "It'll be something different. Complimentary colours, then? Or should we have a palette?"
Seokjin waved a hand. "I trust you," he told Yoongi, who looked surprised in his turn. Seokjin turned back to Namjoon, then, to untie the scarf, and Namjoon stopped his hand before it could get there.
"I've got it," he said, mouth dry, and Seokjin gave him a searching look before nodding. "Of course. Thank you," he told Namjoon, and headed back to his desk, leaving Namjoon confused, irritated and flushed.
3:00 PM
"Okay," Namjoon said, after following Yoongi back to his workroom (what Namjoon called his 'lair'), "I'm convinced that there's something wrong with Seokjin now. Maybe he's sick. Or having a nervous breakdown, or something. He's in a high-stress position..."
"Really?" Yoongi replied thoughtfully, kicking his heels against the sides of his stool. "He seemed like he was in a good mood to me. In fact, he seems to have been in a better mood today than he has for a long time."
Namjoon stopped mid-gesture and eyed Yoongi's expression cautiously. "You got that from him demanding I take my clothes off?"
"You're being overdramatic," Yoongi told him, flicking the air in front of Namjoon's forehead. "And you're also disrupting my work. Again." Namjoon just looked at him, making his eyes as pitiful as he knew how, and Yoongi sighed. "Fine. Brat. What am I supposed to do about it? It's not my fault that Seokjin's trying to behave like a human being instead of some perfect idol. Your act of kindness probably disrupted his worldview or something. Fuck if I know."
"So helpful," Namjoon sighed, and dropped his head onto Yoongi's workbench. Yoongi chuckled.
"Maybe he just wants to know if you care," he suggested, and Namjoon peered up at him.
"Jin cares about one person in the universe, and that is his brother," he told Yoongi. The designer shrugged. "Well, then," he said, "Maybe it's time he added another person to the list."
Namjoon's phone chimed, and he peered down at it, posture still woebegone. The message was from Jin. "Well," he said, "I guess we'll find out."
4:00 PM
His phone chimed several more times on the walk back to Seokjin's office, and Namjoon frowned at his phone with growing apprehension. He wasn't sure what was going on with Jin, but he did, in theory, have a job to do. It was that sense of professionalism (and, perhaps, a sense of curiosity) which propelled him into the glass-and-satin arena of Jin's office.
It was emptying of employees as he got back, leaving just himself and Seokjin. This wasn't atypical, but today it made Namjoon nervous. Today had not been a typical day, and he would bet that it was going to continue along the same vein.
"Namjoon?" called Seokjin, peering through the glass door towards him. Namjoon noticed that his glasses were now sitting atop his head, and sighed with something like resigned fondness before he opened the door and walked over, rescuing the glasses from Seokjin's head and offering them to him.
"Ah," Seokjin murmured, "Thank you."
"Is something wrong?" Namjoon blurted out, and watched Seokjin frown. He couldn't help it, Namjoon thought. Seokjin had said "thank you" more today than he had for the last six months, and that was just concerning.
Seokjin looked at his desk for a moment, and then stood. "Namjoon," he said, coming around the desk and leaning on it, hands braced on its edge. "Do you like me?"
Namjoon opened his mouth (to say what, he wasn't sure), but Seokjin kept going. "I'm aware that I'm not necessarily a likeable person," he continued, "Which is due to my job and my personality, I suppose. But despite that, you go above and beyond to get what I need done. I didn't think about it until today, but-"
"Isn't that my job?" Namjoon mumbled, not sure where this was going. Seokjin raised an eyebrow. "My last three assistants quit after a month," he said, tone oddly affectionate. "You're still here."
"Well, I do have a very hot boss," Namjoon mutters before he could stop himself, and then clamped one hand over his mouth. Seokjin laughed- actually laughed, and Namjoon flushed pink in response.
"That's funny, because I have a very attractive assistant," Seokjin smiled, and reached out to Namjoon. His hand hovered in the space between them, as if Seokjin didn't know how to ask permission to touch him, and so Namjoon decided to help him out (since he was such a good assistant) and stepped forward to meet it, resisting the urge to shudder as Seokjin's fingers curled into his sweater. Jin's eyes were locked on the spot, and when he spoke next, the words were very quiet.
"I'm pushy and jealous and demanding," he said, and Namjoon stifled a snort of amusement. "And I'm not going to change right away. I still want to get things done. I will want a lot of things my way." Seokjin swallowed. "Are you capable of handling it, Namjoon?" he asked, still in that odd, vulnerable tone, and Namjoon recognized the question from his first meeting with Jin.
"Absolutely," he said, and grinned. "I've put up with you for this long, haven't I?"
Seokjin wrinkled his nose up at Namjoon. "Then prove it," he challenged, gaze flickering to his lips, and Namjoon thought how typical it was of Seokjin to boss someone into kissing. And then he didn't think anything at all, because he'd stepped forward, one hand cupping Seokjin's chin, the other sliding around to the small of his back, and kissed him. Seokjin made a soft noise of satisfaction, and Namjoon deepened the kiss, tilting Seokjin's chin up for a better angle and tugging lightly on one of Seokjin's plush lips with his own. Jin, for his part, tugged the front of Namjoon's sweater to bring him closer and anchored the other hand on his hip, keeping him close even then they finally pulled apart.
"Well," Seokjin said finally, breathing a bit heavily. Namjoon was in a similar state, feeling very satisfied with himself. He'd thought about shutting Seokjin up with a kiss before, but he had to say that this was much preferable.
"Well?" Namjoon asked, and Seokjin wrinkled his nose at him. "I'll consider your application for the position of boyf-" he started, only to be interrupted by Namjoon groaning and kissing him again, until he was too breathless to say any more.