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“so,” jungkook ventures. “how has namjoon-hyung been?”
jimin shoots him a look from over his shoulder. he’s standing in front of the mirror, hands frozen in the middle of adjusting his suit jacket, one touched-up eyebrow arched up in jungkook’s direction.
“how long have you been waiting to ask me that?” jimin asks seriously, and hoseok laughs from where he’s perched on a nearby armchair.
“he’s been bursting at the seams, jimin,” hobi says between giggles, and jungkook smacks his shoulder and grumpily sits down on the arm of hobi’s seat.
“no shit!” jimin exclaims, accusatory. “you spent my entire wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner ogling at him, and now you think you can just casually bring him up?”
“i didn’t wanna bother you then!” jungkook says, indignation raising his voice. “i was being considerate.”
“no denying the ogling, huh?” hoseok asks under his breath.
“so instead you chose my actual wedding day to bother me?” jimin jokes. he shakes his head as he looks back to the mirror, retying his tie.
jimin actually has no idea how good of a job jungkook has been doing as his best man. all weekend, little things have been going wrong—centerpieces not matching, guests having complaints, struggling to keep the grooms apart as they requested on the night before the wedding. but he’s kept it together, and managed not to bother jimin with most of the problems that arose.
“can you be more grateful?” jungkook whines. “i’m the bestest best man you’ve ever had, and i’ve literally never asked you for anything, ever.”
“you’re the only best man i’ve ever had,” jimin says. at the same time, hoseok speaks up.
“last week you asked jimin to punch you if you pulled another all-nighter playing overwatch,” hoseok points out.
“and did he punch me?” jungkook asks.
“he did not,” hoseok concedes. then, to jimin, “that checks out.”
“give a bro a hand,” jungkook says to jimin.
“how is it my fault that you choose to play videogames instead of finding yourself a man?” jimin says.
“all the more reason to help me find said man!”
“does said man have to be your best friend’s fiance’s brother?” jimin asks, before crinkling his nose. “did i say that right?”
hoseok nods, and jungkook ignores them both. “he’s not just my best friend’s fiance’s brother!” he says quickly, almost with a rhythm to it, like he’s rapping. hoseok tucks his chin to his chest in a failed attempt to hide his laughter. “he’s my ex, too.”
“from when you were, like, nineteen,” jimin says, his eyes rolling and his tone impatient, even as he walks over to stand over jungkook and gently tuck his hair behind his ear.
“can’t you spill just a tiny bit of tea?” jungkook begs. jimin pushes him off the arm of the couch into hoseok’s lap, who grunts with the impact.
“he’s single. still living in the city, still working at the university. and he’s totally husband material, so i’d approve of him for you if he weren’t insanely out of your league,” he rattles off, as he watches jungkook and hoseok struggle to reposition themselves on a seat meant for one person.
“hey!” jungkook protests. “i got him once. i can get him again.”
“you didn’t get him,” hoseok says, and jungkook twists to shove his elbow in hoseok’s ribs. “ow! i’m just saying, you barely dated. it was on and off for the two years you overlapped in college. more off than on.”
“shut up, hobi-hyung, don’t you have a couple to woo?” jungkook retorts, and hoseok turns pink. jungkook reaches into hoseok’s suit jacket and pulls out his phone, which, sure enough, brightly displays several unread text notifications from a groupchat with jin and yoongi. “that’s what i thought.”
jimin peers over jungkook’s head to look at hoseok’s phone screen, and snickers.
“changing the topic smoothly!” hoseok yells. “back to namjoon!”
“yes, thank you,” jungkook says as he turns back to jimin. “he wasn’t and isn’t out of my league. he was my gay awakening.”
“i vividly remember you telling me iron man was your gay awakening,” jimin says, just as his brother sticks his head into the room. jihyun and hoseok burst into laughter, and jungkook surges forward to slap a hand over jimin’s mouth.
jimin ducks and darts away. “hey, careful! wearing makeup!”
“i’ll kill you,” jungkook threatens, only held back by hoseok, who is weakly shaking with laughter.
“gotta go!” jimin says, prancing around the room to taunt jungkook before rushing out to meet his brother. “later!”
“park jimin!” jungkook yells, and then he gets a text that the flowers are going to be late, and yoongi texts hoseok (among other things) that the refrigerator in their room is too small and they need access to the hotel kitchen to store the cake that jin made for the reception, and jungkook doesn’t think about their conversation about his ex again.
until the ceremony, when namjoon is right in front of his eyes.
until he feels like he’s a teenager again, harboring a massive crush on his friend’s older brother, struggling to speak in full sentences without stumbling over his words. namjoon is walking down the aisle with his mother on his arm, who appears stern and calm although jungkook knows for a fact she cried at the rehearsal dinner over the idea of her baby boy getting married. it can’t be an accident how namjoon meets his eye, right? jungkook can’t be overthinking that. and namjoon is smiling so widely at him, teeth and dimples showing.
but jungkook remembers the photographer telling them all to smile all throughout the ceremony, remembers the big smile plastered onto his own face, and has to remind himself to focus on the wedding and not get hung up on namjoon without so much as a word exchanged between the two of them.
he can barely help himself. old habits die hard, and liking namjoon is one of the easiest things he’s ever done.
jungkook tells himself to get a grip, and looks down the aisle to see taehyung, smiling effortlessly, with eyes only for jimin. he clenches his sweaty fists and tries not to cry as he watches his best friends get married.
--
later on, during the reception, after jungkook has tearily congratulated jimin and taehyung, he punches taehyung in the arm when he sees the seating arrangements.
“you had one job,” he hisses, smiling disingenuously as the photographer snaps a picture of the two of them.
“you should be thanking me,” taehyung whispers, with an equally aggressive tone and an equally fake smile. their voices are hushed even though the joyous chatter of wedding guests is loud enough that nobody will overhear them. the photographer takes another photo, before taehyung clears his throat and addresses him loudly. “let’s get a photo of the grooms with the best men!”
there are huddles of guests around them, and many onlookers, so there’s no way for jungkook to feasibly kill taehyung. instead, jimin appears out of thin air, dragging namjoon along.
“that’s an excellent idea, husband,” jimin says sweetly, giving taehyung a peck on the lips. jungkook forces himself to appear calm as the photographer arranges them in a row. from left to right, it’s jungkook, jimin, taehyung, and then namjoon, all smiling widely arm in arm as jin jumps behind the photographer and pulls a funny face at them before being chastised by his, namjoon’s, and taehyung’s mother.
it’s fine, jungkook reasons. he can stand to be in a picture with namjoon if they’re separated by two people. he’ll do it for the happy couple.
“okay, just the best men now!” jimin announces, and pulls taehyung out of the foreground. they stand beside the photographer, who seems like a polite and friendly man who does not deserve to be dragged into jungkook’s tragic love life.
without jimin and taehyung, namjoon sidesteps awkwardly like a crab until he’s standing a few centimeters away from jungkook, both of them staring the grooms down and not looking at each other.
their arms bump and jungkook jumps. he looks at namjoon finally, sees the shine of sweat on his brow and the highlights in his mostly blonde hair. he sees the frozen smile, the swinging earrings as namjoon looks hesitantly between him and the photographer in front of them.
“s—” jungkook stammers, before stopping himself from apologizing.
“come on!” taehyung yells at them, although it looks like jimin has forgotten about them completely, and is excitedly catching up with old friends with his arm wrapped snugly around taehyung’s waist.
jungkook steels himself. he’s not the same person he used to be. he’s not the apologetic, nervous kid whose hesitation and fear contributed to the failure of his relationship with namjoon all those years ago.
he steps closer and reaches under namjoon’s stiff arm, and places his hand on namjoon’s back. he looks up to find namjoon watching him, an awkward but grateful smile adorning his face, and jungkook wants to high five his younger self.
namjoon gingerly sets his arm on jungkook’s shoulders, his hand balled into a fist before he relaxes and lightly places his palm on his shoulder.
“hi,” namjoon says, the first thing he’s said to jungkook in—what is it? three years? jungkook feels exhilarated, like everything bad that happened between them is gone and the only thing that matters now is they’re here, now, smiling, happy. capable of being friends again, maybe.
“hey, hyung,” jungkook says cheerily, turning back to the photographer while hoseok whoops at them, his arm slung over yoongi’s shoulder.
“damn, best men! looking good!” yoongi catcalls, and namjoon instinctively hides his face to conceal his laughter, the same way he used to a lifetime ago. he shyly turns his face and leans so close to jungkook that jungkook can feel his hyung’s breath on his neck, and they’re both shaking with laughter so hard jungkook doesn’t notice the photographer thank them and move on.
when there’s no longer anyone staring at the two of them, namjoon steps back a little so that his hand grasps jungkook’s shoulder and they can look at each other levelly.
namjoon looks older. he always looked older, of course, a lot more like an adult than jungkook felt. but he looks dignified now, confident, his hair styled up like he’s figured out what to do with it and doesn’t just pull at it endlessly while he spends hours in the school library.
but jungkook’s gotten older too, even older than namjoon was when last saw each other, and he still can’t help but feel familiar with him, drawn. namjoon is magnetic, and intense, and complicated, and distant.
he was everything all at once, and when he pulled away from jungkook because they had futures that did not involve each other, jungkook’s heart had broken into pieces. when namjoon graduated, leaving behind his college life and self and relationship, jungkook didn’t know what to do but resent him.
but now, at the risk of seeming overly confident, jungkook thinks he’s a lot smarter than he used to be. college feels like forever ago for him too, although it seems like just last week he was looking at namjoon like this, eye to eye with bright smiles on their faces.
“how have you been?” namjoon asks. jungkook shrugs.
“i’m good now, hyung.”
--
they’d had a messy, messy history, namjoon remembers. it was weird enough that he had kissed a cute stranger at a party, and it was even weirder that the boy had turned out to be one of namjoon’s little brother’s closest friends. they had hesitantly turned into flirty acquaintances, when namjoon found out through taehyung that he had been jungkook’s first kiss. he didn’t know how to feel about it.
he also didn’t know how to feel about his growing friendship with the boy, a real substantial thing based on inside jokes and advice and music recommendations, not just flirting at the occasional party. and he certainly didn’t know how to feel when he saw jungkook with other guys, heard taehyung off-handedly mention the flings and short relationships.
he definitely didn’t know how to feel when he realized jungkook might have a crush on him, and when he realized jungkook was never going to confess to him, shyness and fear holding his tongue.
it was more frustration than anything else that turned their relationship physical, and namjoon didn’t want to think about how much jungkook must hurt every time namjoon kissed him goodbye, the way friends with benefits do not.
he was comfortable talking to jungkook about absolutely anything but them. he never even told him that he’d never slept with anyone before, although he thought jungkook might have been able to tell because they were just as nervous as each other, touching delicately and carefully because this was unexplored territory for both of them.
but they never talked about it. never put a label on it, never talked about being exclusive or long-term, and never talked about the future. too suddenly, graduation was approaching, and now, three years later, namjoon can’t remember if he properly said goodbye to jungkook, or if he had run away like the coward he was.
he’s not deluded. he’s had other relationships since jungkook. better ones, worse ones. he’s moved in and been kicked out, and he’s lived enough to have forgotten the feeling of jungkook’s fingertips on his skin. he knows jungkook must feel the same way.
he didn’t know what it meant that taehyung wouldn’t let him see the seating arrangements for the wedding, and he didn’t know what it meant that jimin asked repeatedly if namjoon was bringing a date. he thinks he might know what it means when his little brother shoves him towards his new husband’s best man and forces them to take a picture together.
he and jungkook are in the past. but if all the signs mean anything, it’s that they have unfinished business.
--
they excitedly catch up with each other on the way to their seats, where they’re not only put at the same table but also right next to each other. jungkook’s strides are longer than they used to be. out of courtesy, he waits until namjoon sits before taking his own seat, and as namjoon looks up at the young man standing in front of him, broad shoulders blocking the sunlight, he wonders how much of the old jungkook has remained.
namjoon almost slips, once, at the beginning, when he asks about jungkook’s work and jungkook endeavors to explain the general aspects of working in a film crew and namjoon absent-mindedly interrupts him, tells him he knows the basics of what jungkook does, and wants to know more specific details. when jungkook asks him how he knows what jungkook does for a living, particularly because they’re not friends on social media, namjoon has to casually explain that he had asked taehyung how jungkook was, what he was up to. jungkook generously chooses not to dwell on it, although namjoon thinks his ears might be a bit pink.
they talk about the speeches they’re both about to give as the best men, skimming over each other’s notes, giving unhelpful tips in an attempt to sabotage the other before reminiscing about the old memories they bring up. when it’s namjoon’s turn, jungkook laughs first and most obnoxiously at all the jokes he has heard already. when it’s jungkook’s turn, namjoon locks eyes with him and tries to mess him up by mouthing along to jungkook’s speech.
when they cut seokjin’s cake, jungkook pulls away from namjoon for the first time since the reception started. he finds hoseok, who’s feeding yoongi cake off his own fork, and yoongi accepts even though he keeps saying he’s full.
“do you know how many cake flavors i had to try for jin-hyung before the wedding?” yoongi complains.
“aish,” seokjin says, and dips his finger in hoseok’s cake before wiping frosting on yoongi’s nose.
“you guys are adorable,” jungkook says, snapping a photo on his phone. yoongi gives an embarrassed smile, and seokjin frowns, defensive.
“whatever, jungkookie. where’d you leave my brother?” seokjin asks, and jungkook tries to argue back but the three of them are caught in a cycle of teasing, complaining, and giggling again. he pouts, and takes two plates of cake.
“hey, you,” namjoon says when he returns to their seats from his parents’ table. there’s a slice of cake sitting untouched in front of his seat, next to where jungkook eats his own slice and licks frosting off his fork.
some of the other guests are eating and talking, but most of them are dancing now, jimin and taehyung included. namjoon takes his seat, looks at jungkook slowly picking at his cake. he’s seen jungkook eat tonight, and knows he has the same appetite he had as a kid—ravenous, impatient.
namjoon picks up his own fork. “thank you.”
“no problem,” jungkook says warmly, easily.
“sorry i left you here,” namjoon says lightly, joking.
“it’s fine,” jungkook dismisses, glancing at namjoon with chocolate on the corner of his mouth before returning to his dessert. “wanted to be here if you came back.”
jungkook looks up cheerfully from his plate with his cheeks full of fluffy cake when he realizes that namjoon is staring at him. his expression is carefully schooled to look blank, if not a little sad. mournful, maybe.
“it’s fine,” jungkook repeats quickly. he doesn’t want to talk about the past. it’s behind them, and if he only has this one night with an old friend he doesn’t want to ruin it.
namjoon’s eyes drift down. “you have chocolate…”
“oh,” jungkook says dumbly. he licks his bottom lip, where namjoon is staring, and offers a sheepish smile to diffuse the tension.
he doesn’t seem to have gotten it. namjoon reaches for his napkin, folds it, and dabs at the corner of jungkook’s lips. when jungkook pliantly moves with the force of namjoon’s pushing motions, namjoon holds jungkook’s face in place, his free hand cupping the nape of his neck.
by the time namjoon is done jungkook can feel his heart hammering haphazardly everywhere from his chest to the pulse in his forehead. namjoon is so close—and they’ve been closer in the past, more intimate, impossibly intertwined, but this is different. jungkook has detoxed, has flushed namjoon out of his system. he’s been with other people, slept with other people. so paradoxically, jungkook is aching for both the familiarity and the novelty of namjoon’s touch.
without thinking, jungkook settles his hand on namjoon’s forearm, the one reaching around him to hold the nape of his neck. there are layers of clothing between them, but the feeling of namjoon, sturdy and real, against his hand is relieving, it washes through his mind.
“it’s been a long time, huh,” namjoon says, and jungkook remembers that even though namjoon is taller and older and maybe a little more buff too, he’s still the thoughtful person he was before. thoughtful both because he’s kind and considerate and also because he tends to overthink, even more than jungkook. his voice is shaking.
jungkook tilts his head, struggles to find the words to express how he feels. it’d be a difficult task even if namjoon’s eyes weren’t so closely trained on him.
“what?” namjoon asks, seeming a bit more nervous. his hand on jungkook lightens, and lifts, and although namjoon’s palm was sweaty jungkook misses it terribly.
“no, it’s just.” jungkook frowns, trying to explain himself. “you make time nonsensical.”
too much, too fast. or maybe it would be, if namjoon wasn’t someone he had years of history with already. namjoon just leans forward infinitesimally, prompting jungkook to speak again.
“i don’t know how to phrase it,” jungkook says, defensively, dismissively. but he can tell he has namjoon’s attention, his care. he’s happy to open up under namjoon’s stare.
“i look at you, and i see the intimidating upperclassman who i didn’t know but had a crush on, and also the guy who i eventually hooked up with more times than i could count, and at the same time, i see this stranger, who i only know by association, because you’re the older brother of one of my best friends. i look at you and it’s 5 years ago and 3 years ago and right now all at once. it’s the past, and i’m crazy about you, and simultaneously it’s the present, and i don’t even really know you.”
jungkook pauses, focuses on where namjoon is now grasping his shoulder. he feels hot inside his suit jacket, and is extremely thankful that nobody is around to see him sweat out of his own skin while talking to his oldest and biggest crush. and then he cringes.
“i just realized i never actually told you that. i know you know. but i never told you i liked you.”
suddenly he feels his heart squeeze like there’s a fist clenching around it, and he’s bursting with anxiety that namjoon will be put off or embarrassed or disturbed, or disgusted by him.
and then namjoon grabs his hand, pulls him to his feet. “come on.”
as jungkook obediently follows, he belatedly registers that the dj has switched from peppy dance music to something slow, and also namjoon is currently leading him to the dance floor.
they really have changed.
it’s different under the soft lights projecting on the dance floor, couples around them swaying clumsily like cattails at a riverside. jungkook takes a breath to calm his nerves when namjoon lifts their still intertwined hands and wraps his other arm around jungkook and—
they’re dancing.
jungkook has never danced with namjoon like this before, but it still feels impossibly familiar, like maybe one night when they were on opposite sides of jungkook’s bed it was happening in their reflections in the mirror and he just never looked over his shoulder to check.
jungkook screws his eyes shut, tries to memorize the feeling of namjoon’s shoes scuffing past his, his warmth in front of him, their clammy palms pressed together, his breath pushing through jungkook’s bangs because namjoon is undoubtedly laughing at the sight of jungkook trying to memorize him. he opens his eyes again, and namjoon looks at him, fond.
“you don’t have to do that,” namjoon says quietly, bringing his hand from the small of jungkook’s back to jungkook’s forehead, smoothing his furrowed brow. “you’re memorizing, right? you don’t have to. i’m not going anywhere.”
jungkook makes a small wounded sound, can’t help but ask, “you’re not?”
“not if you want me,” namjoon murmurs, eyes trained on jungkook’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.
“you…” jungkook begins, but trails off, at a goddamn loss for words. namjoon rubs soothing circles into jungkook’s hand where their fingers are interlaced.
“it’s okay,” namjoon whispers. “just listen. i… i hesitate to say possessive things when i talk about stuff like feelings. or romance. but… i’m yours. and you’re mine. i say that because this version of me, tonight, new, yet old, yet young, this is yours, nobody else perceives me the way that you do. and this you…”
namjoon smooths his hand down jungkook’s lapel and when he looks up again he can finally look him in the eye. jungkook’s eyes crinkle with a smile, and namjoon can just barely see jungkook’s front teeth like he can’t help but let them peek out.
“this you, to me, is youthful, and new, but reminiscent of faded memories, beautifully frozen in two different times. this is mine. it belongs to nobody else.”
when namjoon finishes speaking, he runs through his words in his mind, wonders if they fully capture the way he feels. they rarely do.
but jungkook is smiling in front of him, adoring and touched like namjoon’s words are resonant, like they have meaning. he’s smiling so wide, it barely matters that they’re going to have to hide from the grooms to avoid teasing when they return to the same hotel room tonight. it doesn’t matter that they hurt each other in the past, not really. it definitively doesn’t matter what might happen and what didn’t happen.
when they kiss for the first time in three years, gentle and nervous like they’re kids again and don’t know what they’re doing, it’s in each other’s arms, together not because it’s a convenience but because it’s a promise.
the lights glow magenta, fading into open air. for just a moment, their hearts beat in tandem, and that’s all that matters.