Namjoon used to be better at this whole being honest or being upfront with his feelings thing. Back in elementary, he tried to woo one of his classmates by sharing his biscuits with her and he ended up 'going out' with her up until the summer months hit. In his early years as a high school student, after realizing he'd always been a bit in love with his best friend, he started leaving little Post-it notes in the guy's locker, sometimes even slipping chocolates and boxes of Pepero and cards where he reminded his friend to never miss a meal despite spending all twenty-five hours of his day just studying for the big entrance exam. Granted, neither of the two really worked out, because apparently said girl thought he was just being friendly, but still — he managed to make them feel good about themselves, became the reason why they smiled for a few good months, and he generally walked away from rejection feeling, well, not as dejected as he'd expected he would.
Then he started training with Big Hit. Then it became nigh impossible to think of romance, because while Yoongi was charming in his own right he didn't want to complicate things with perhaps the only person who knew back then exactly how hard it was to suddenly step into these templated idol shoes after walking around barefoot for so long. Then Jung Hoseok walked into that goddamned door saying he was a new trainee, he needed help in rap, please treat me kindly, and turned out to be more than a decent guy.
Fast forward months after, and Hoseok ended up being the object of Namjoon's lewd fantasies. Fast forward years after, and Namjoon had somehow transformed the lust into lyrics cryptic enough that it didn't seem as if he was rapping about his handsome and hot bandmate. Fast forward to today, and all of a sudden he found himself faced with a very tough opponent in the form of Chris Martin and his band doing the opening notes for one of his and Hoseok's favorite songs.
"They're doing Yellow, oh my God—" Hoseok curled his fingers into tight fists in Namjoon's arm. A soft tug, then Chris Martin was leaning closer to the microphone, beginning the song with gentle humming that degenerated Hoseok into a groaning mess. Chris hadn't even started singing yet, and Namjoon was already at the precipice of losing a sleeve. Awesome. "They're fucking doing Yellow, oh my God—"
Once, when Namjoon was a lot younger and Yoongi had walked in on him studying Hoseok's features at length through one of their promotional photos, Yoongi ruined one of Namjoon's favorite Coldplay songs by drawing parallels between Chris Martin's sad lyrics and Namjoon's pathetic pining. "So I look at your erection, but you pay me no attention, do you?" Yoongi had croaked out, deliberately choking on certain parts, and Namjoon's only response had been wide eyes and a pillow thrown in Yoongi's direction. He'd missed Yoongi's face by a huge margin but managed to hit Yoongi square on the ass as the latter scurried away, but the damage had already been done — he would never be able to 'unhear' Yoongi's godawful lyrics anymore, he probably wouldn't even be able to listen to Shiver without seeing J-Hope's picture-perfect idol smile glaring at him, and he would no longer be able to dissociate the fucking song with his helpless pining over a bandmate he shouldn't even be looking at for more than three songs—
Hoseok slid his hand further south, cold fingers slipping between Namjoon's own. He's just feeling the song, Namjoonie. Don't think about it too much, Namjoon told himself, reminded himself. He took a deep shaky breath, then squeezed Hoseok's hand in response. Don't make things—
Weird, whispered a voice in his head, but too late — he was looking to his side, widening his eyes at Hoseok who'd been staring. Or maybe Hoseok just happened to be looking in his direction at the same time that Namjoon decided to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in because it was easy to make things up in his head, what with the very dim lighting around them. There was only the glow of the stage lights catching on Hoseok's skin, drawing blotches of yellow on his cheeks. Tracing the bridge of his nose and the gentle swell of his lips, then pooling at his dimples, the upward curl of his mouth, that tiny, familiar twitch. You look weird, he contemplated asking, but it wasn't as if he could feel his throat anymore. His chest was tight and the air all around them was thin and yeah, everything was yellow, from the warm glow all around them down to the glimmer in Hoseok's eyes.
Now you're the one who's feeling the song too much, groaned a voice at the back of Namjoon's mind. He brushed it off with a nod then slowly, gently pulled away. Look away while you still can. Look away while—
"Aren't you glad I dragged your lazy ass to see this with me?"
Namjoon laughed, then choked on his own spit. He had at least five different answers in his head, three of them beginning with 'no', but he was certain Hoseok wasn't hoping for an answer, if the way he'd turned to face front again just seconds after was any indicator of that. Still, he bobbed his head, nodding slowly before looking at the stage again, fixing his eyes on the performance right in front of them. At the band losing themselves in the music, and Chris Martin singing Namjoon's fucking heart out even if they hadn't gotten to Shiver yet.
He's still holding your hand, though, whimpered a tiny voice in Namjoon's head. He gulped down hard, bit the inside of his cheek, tried to move just a bit more to his side, but to no avail — Hoseok's grip on him was tight, secure. And the pulse on Hoseok's palm was hard and quick, completely unlike the music all around them but a perfect mirror of the pounding in Namjoon's chest. He still hasn't let go.
yukichumau, you're up!