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Seokjin leans over Namjoon’s shoulder, “what are you reading?”
"Reviews,"
"Good reviews?"
Namjoon makes a non committal grunt, but if Seokjin had to guess he’d say it’s bad. Namjoon’s face is stern and his jaw clicks from the force of grinding his teeth.
Seokjin leans back to get a better look and sees exactly the kind of comments he wishes Namjoon wouldn’t read: ‘Bangtan’s rappers are shite’, ‘these lyrics are idiotic who the fuck is buying this?’, ‘fucking pussies calling themselves hiphop artists’.
"Namjoon…"
"Hyeong I’m busy,"
"Do you think that maybe you shouldn’t be reading those?"
"I always read our reviews,"
Yeah but should you be reading those reviews,”
Namjoon glares at him,
"They’re really awful," Seokjin sighs.
Namjoon shrugs, “yeah well maybe we’re really awful,”
"You don’t mean that,"
"How do you know?"
"You pour your heart and soul into the group. You may not think we’re perfect but you don’t think we’re shit."
Seokjin slides a hand into Namjoon’s hair, letting his fingers find the pressure points that never fail to calm him down and waiting for the moment that Namjoon relaxes completely under his touch.
It never comes.
Instead Namjoon slams the laptop shut and vaults off the couch muttering profanities under his breath. He dashes into the bedroom before Seokjin can stop him, leaving him bewildered and not a little annoyed.
"Taking your anger out on me is a dick move I hope you know," Seokjin shouts after him
"Not when I’m fucking angry with you it’s not!"
"What the fuck did I do?"
When he receives no reply Seokjin hoists himself off the sofa and marches into the bedroom where Namjoon is sitting on his bed with his laptop open again, headphones firmly on whilst Jungkook plays on his 3DS and tries to pretend he can’t hear them.
"Out," Seokjin clicks his fingers in Jungkook’s direction and the maknae doesn’t need to be told twice. He waits until he hears the front door slam shut before moving over to Namjoon’s bed and pulling his headphones out,
"Hey give those ba-"
"What’s you’re fucking problem?" Seokjin presses the headphones into Namjoon’s slim fingers but shuts the laptop closed before he can put them back in. His jaw clenches visibly and Seokjin thinks that he must live with a horrible headache.
"My problem is that no one takes me seriously,"
"Us," Seokjin amends, "No one takes us seriously. We’re in this together remember,"
"It’s not the same for you…"
"I guess Yoongi doesn’t count then,"
Namjoon glowers, “I’m not talking about Yoongi, I’m talking about you”
"Yeah because I’m totally not part of the idol machine your old hiphop pals hate so much,”
"What they think doesn’t matter to you,"
"No. It doesn’t," Seokjin reaches forward to pull Namjoon’s chin up, making sure he doesn’t break eye contact, "it doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t matter to you. They’re just people on the internet Namjoon they don’t know anything,"
"They’re not ‘just people on the internet’," Namjoon shoves Seokjin’s arm away, "they’re people who used to come to my shows and tell me I as gonna be the next big thing, they used to hear my tracks and ask me when the next one was gonna be ready. They were my fans and I’ve disappointed them,"
Seokjin stares at him, “well they’re shitty fans to turn on you like that just because you became an idol,”
"It’s not just because I became an idol,”
"Pretty sure it is,"
"Jesus Christ! You don’t know shit Seokjin, you have no fucking idea how different Bangtan is to the music I wanted to make when I was underground, you don’t know how fucking plastic this whole industry is. How can they expect me to keep it real when all they ever see on TV are these talentless, pretty boys who don’t breathe unless their company tells them to - where’s the merit in that?"
"I’m a talentless pretty boy who doesn’t breathe unless the company tells me so," Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat, "what must you think of me?"
Namjoon leans in close, eyes icy with rage, “I think you need to stop pretending you understand a fucking thing I’m talking about.”
He sits back and suddenly can’t seem to meet Seokjin’s gaze, “I’m going out,” he mutters, and Seokjin doesn't stop him.
It’s long after curfew when Namjoon gets home. Seokjin hears him enter the dorm cursing furiously at a toe stubbed in the hallway.
It’s dark outside and the rest of the boys are asleep. The sounds of heavy breathing and Taehyung’s nighttime ramblings fill the room but despite the late hour Seokjin can’t sleep. He’s spent the evening lying on his bed and avoiding conversation at all costs. Jungkook sticks his head around the door to ask if him and Namjoon had had a fight but he vanished when it becomes apparent that no answer is forthcoming.
Seokjin hears Hoseok ask after him and Jungkook replies that “Seokjin hyeong’s pretty angry right now I think he wants to be left alone.”
He’s not particularly angry, not any more at least. He doesn’t like Namjoon’s childish self importance where hiphop is concerned but it’s nothing Yoongi isn’t also guilty of. Mostly Seokjin is just upset that they can never have a conversation about it that doesn’t lead to a fight. He understands that he’s not best placed to talk about the transition from underground to the mainstream, but it’s frustrating that Namjoon never manages to make idols sound any better than trash when he’s angry - Seokjin’s always worried one of the younger kids will hear him and get the wrong idea.
The bedroom door creaks open and Seokjin does his best to breathe as quietly as possible. He hears Namjoon’s feet shuffle across the floor, slow moving in the dark and waits for the sound of his body slumping into bed.
It never comes. Instead, Seokjin feels fingers brush against his own as Namjoon reaches up to thread their hands together,
"Hyeong are you awake?"
"I might be,"
"Can I come up?"
"Depends. Are you still angry."
Seokjin can see Namjoon’s face press against the slats of the bed. He shakes his head and Seokjin shifts over to give him room.
Namjoon lurches onto the top bunk and crawls up to lie face to face with Seokjin. Their hands find each other again and Seokjin waits for whatever speech Namjoon has prepared.
"I’m really sorry hyeong,"
Seokjin hums low and pulls Namjoon closer. "I know you are,"
Namjoon drops Seokjin’s hand and wraps his arm around his waist as he buries his head in Seokjin’s chest ,
"I don’t mean to lose my temper,"
"But you do,"
"Yeah. Sorry."
Heat has always made Seokjin drowsy and the familiar pressure of Namjoon’s body against his own has his eyes slipping closed almost instantly. He doesn’t want to fall asleep yet, it feels like this conversation is a long way from over but ignoring the dead weight of his sleep starved limbs is increasingly difficult.
"Do you think you’d be happier if you weren’t an idol?" Seokjin mutters before sleep washes over him completely. Namjoon sighs into his night shirt,
"Of course not you idiot. If I wasn’t an idol I’d never have met you,"
Seokjin smiles into Namjoon’s hair and kisses his way down his face till their lips meet, sluggish and sleepy. It’s so warm and the bed is so comfy, it’s difficult to say where they end and unconsciousness begins.
They fall asleep a mess of crooked limbs and unfinished conversations, and though Seokjin may doubt Namjoon’s faith in his chosen career path he believes him when he says he’s glad they met.