namkook, a kiss in a rush of adrenaline
"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," Namjoon begins. He sounds like he did when he was talking to the whole United Nations, dead serious and just a tiny bit shaky, even though he and Jungkook are alone in Jungkook's room.
"Really?" Jungkook squeaks in a very poor approximation of nonchalance. Like he hasn't been thinking about it all, like he tells people every day he's been in love with them for his entire adult life and he doesn't care about the consequences anymore.
When Namjoon said he needed to think, Jungkook figured that was a very gentle no. He went back to agonizing in silence, now with a queasy edge of humiliation. He might puke now, actually, all over Namjoon's lap where Namjoon keeps rubbing his palms down his thighs (his thighs, he's wearing sweatpants, they look so soft when they stretch across the shapes where his muscles are hard—)
"We have such a tremendous responsibility," Namjoon said. "You know, to the band, to the company. When I think of—you know—I mean—so many people's livelihoods depend on us—"
"Right," Jungkook says, to save Namjoon the stuttering and himself having to listen. It is no, then. Namjoon pulled him aside to make him listen to all the reasons it's no in exhaustive, thoughtful detail. He probably thinks that's kind, but Jungkook can't take a deep enough breath to receive that kindness the way Namjoon intends it. His ears are buzzing.
This thing isn't just in Jungkook's head or heart, it's in his whole body. He can already feel how hard he's going to crash when Namjoon leaves. He eyes the trajectory toward his pillow, just past Namjoon's shoulder, where he's going to bury his face and scream all this out.
"At the same time," Namjoon continues, like a professor, "I don't think we have anything to be ashamed of and I really don't want you experiencing your feelings as shame, if I can—you know, if it's not presumptuous—I mean, I know I can't be the one to control—or even aspire to control—"
"Right," Jungkook says, to save them again, thinking very hard about the lavender linen spray that his pillow is going to smell like when this is over.
"Right," Namjoon says, and takes a big, deep breath that sounds like he's about to stand and go.
He shifts a little closer on the edge of Jungkook's bed. "So, I do think it's best to keep things secret, for the band but also for us—"
Jungkook's gaze snaps back to his face. His ears are ringing so loud he has to concentrate to hear.
"But if you ever, ever start feeling that as shame, I hope you'll tell me, and we can discuss being more open, maybe with the others—"
"Wait," Jungkook says.
Namjoon stops, closes his mouth with a too-hard snap, like he's not used to the motion.
"Are you saying yes?" Jungkook asks.
Namjoon blinks at him. Jungkook blinks back.
Namjoon groans and tosses himself back on the bed. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry, yes I was saying yes. Look, are you sure, like, have you seen yourself—"
And he's going on, probably, but the buzzing in Jungkook's ears is so loud he can't hear it, and his body launches itself forward.
Namjoon thigh is hard muscle under Jungkook's hand, just like he thought, but his mouth, his beautiful dumb mouth, is only soft.