Chapter Text
"I'm going out," he looked at Seokjin with a hesitant gaze, hand already on the doorknob and silence in the air; sickening to hear. It's been so bland inside this shabby apartment room that Namjoon once considered home, and it doesn't help that Seokjin is as quiet as a library room.
Seokjin only nodded, not caring if Namjoon saw it or not, sizzling heard from the kitchen. Namjoon's hand tightened on the doorknob and he twisted it without a second thought, the air from the hallway suffocating him. But it's definitely better than in there.
The door closed and Namjoon leaned on it, closing his eyes out of anger, disappointment, and...resentment for Seokjin.
How could this have happened?
How could Namjoon let this happen?
They were once a very happy couple. They would run around the kitchen and laugh about the most trivial things. They would settle down on the not-so-comfy living room couch and watch the television until dawn. They would walk outside, hand in hand, smiles stretching from ear to ear as they talk about what happened throughout the day.
But what happened?
These days, it seems like Seokjin was growing distant. That morning, Namjoon woke up without a warm presence beside him. He woke up to no giggles, but dead silence. He got out of their shared bedroom to find Seokjin sitting down with his phone in hand and earphones plugged in; something told Namjoon it was to avoid him.
Namjoon could feel a tear fall down his closed eyes. He could feel the pain in it as it fell to the carpeted floor beneath him. He slowly collapsed and hugged his knees in front of the apartment room both he and Seokjin once called home.
Now, it doesn't feel much like home anymore.
It felt like a stranger's house. It felt sickening and it was so hard to breathe in there.
Where did the spark go?
Namjoon could feel his love slowly fall apart, and that scared him. He's held onto Seokjin for so long, and letting him go would be the worst feeling he could possibly have. Once, when they had a fight, Namjoon wanted to break up then and there.
But they always solved the problem they were facing. Hug it out and go on dates afterward.
This feels different.
Way too different.
Too different from those times.
Namjoon pathetically stood up from the floor and pocketed his hands in his jacket, droopily going down the stairs. He could hear his heavy footsteps echo throughout the stairwell and the occasional conversations coming from the people he bumped into along the way.
Nothing could fix something like this. Fix whatever's happening between him and Seokjin.
He got out of the apartment building and into the streets of Ilsan, turning left to go to a place he's way too familiar with.
The bar.
He met Seokjin at the back alley when he almost passed out from all the drinks he had at the bachelor's party of his best pal, Yoongi.
With his blouse unbuttoned and his tie undone, he stumbled into the back alley. He opened his eyes to find Seokjin crying and hugging his knees, fresh bruises on his face. A hazed Namjoon made his way to Seokjin and sat down beside him, uncontrollably giggling as they talked about Seokjin's problems.
Since Namjoon knew they wouldn't see each other anymore after that encounter, he just went and talked with Seokjin.
But he was wrong.
Because the day after that, he bumped into Seokjin while walking down the street.
Namjoon finally reached the bar and he could see the neon sign overhead flickering. He went into the bar without a second word and people were scattered around like a flock of papers in an office building. He quickly made his way to the bar itself and sat down on the seat, catching the bartender's attention. The bartender smiled at him and asked him what drink he wanted.
"A martini would suffice," Namjoon grumbled under his breath, his elbows propped on the table. The bartender immediately brewed the martini, but he looked back at Namjoon. "You're not with Seokjin today. That's pretty new," The bartender called him out.
Namjoon could only shake his head. Just remembering how Seokjin looked earlier when he left the apartment room left an acid taste in his mouth.
Toxic.
"It's none of your business, Jimin." Namjoon scoffed, downing the martini once the bartender-Jimin, handed it to him. Jimin propped an elbow on the table and looked at him, amidst all the orders coming from the other side of the bar.
"Hey, it seems like a serious topic. I'm your best friend, you know. Talk to me about it some other time, will ya?" Jimin chuckled, before turning his way to another customer. Namjoon could feel the aftertaste of the martini spreading across his throat but he ignored this entirely, anger bubbling up even more inside of him.
All rational thoughts aside, he punched the table out of pure anger. Namjoon didn't know how long he stayed in that wretched place, but he found himself walking back to the apartment room he shared with Seokjin, drunk off his mind. He could feel a stumble in his step as he got up the stairs.
His footsteps were heavy and he opened the door to the apartment room. He could hear the television playing in the background and Seokjin's laughter fill the air.
It pissed him off.
He took his jacket off and didn't even bother placing it on the coat hanger, just barging his way in. When Seokjin noticed his presence, Seokjin turned the television off, shock on his face.
"Namjoon...did you...drink...?" Seokjin slowly said, scanning Namjoon's current state. Namjoon could only lick his lips out of anger before looking at Seokjin. "What does it look like?" he spat.
Seokjin's face immediately contorted from worry to anger real quick. The tension in the room started to grow and Namjoon could already feel a fight coming.
Like lava slowly bubbling up from a dormant volcano, Seokjin crossed his arms and he shot back at Namjoon with the same level of spite, "Is that how you talk after leaving me to entertain myself for the whole day?"
Namjoon could feel his stomach turn because of that, and he looked away so he could resist the urge to come at Seokjin. "I'm sorry, but who ignored me earlier this morning?"
Seokjin huffed and shut his eyes tight. Now was not the right time to fight with Namjoon because he was not thinking straight. Namjoon took a stride towards Seokjin's direction and both of them met eye to eye. Seokjin could smell the alcohol oozing off of Namjoon's clothes.
He's reeking of it.
"I didn't ignore you." Seokjin flatly said, his breath fanning Namjoon's face. "Oh really?" Seokjin could feel the scoff from that sentence and he curled his hands into fists. "You know how busy I am these days, Namjoon." Without another word, Seokjin turned around to be the bigger man between the two of them.
He couldn't even take a few more steps when Namjoon yanked him back. Namjoon had a very tight grip on his left shoulder, but Seokjin remained unfazed.
He even went as far as detaching himself from Namjoon. "Don't test me, Namjoon." is what Seokjin said.
Namjoon tightened his jaw and his head felt even lighter. The alcohol was taking effect. "Don't test me too, Seokjin." Namjoon slurred, brushing his shoulder against Seokjin as he made his way to the bathroom.
Once Seokjin heard the bathroom door close, he turned to face it; expecting Namjoon to have open arms and his adorable dimple smile on display.
But he didn't see it.
Instead, he saw the bathroom door closed with the shower running in the background. Seokjin tsked at that and made his way to the kitchen.
He wanted to get to know what was the problem between him and Namjoon these recent weeks. It's been going for quite some time now, and Seokjin was worried this could lead to their fallout.
And an official one, at that.
He stopped in his tracks as he was reaching for the gingers in the fridge, his hand laying flat against it. What would he do without Namjoon? That thought baffled him.
With the shower water running in the background, Seokjin started chopping the gingers, tears welling up out of his control. He had no idea what was up between the two of them, but it was hurting him like hell.
He wanted it to end.
The pain.
Namjoon got out of the bathroom and was now sober, a towel over his head and one of Seokjin's shirts over his shoulder. He was only wearing sweatpants and it concerned him that it was way too quiet in the room.
He peered his head into the kitchen to be faced with Seokjin's back. He's frozen in his spot like an object on ice and Namjoon immediately knew something was wrong.
Namjoon slowly approached Seokjin, the floorboards creaking beneath him like it was going to break. Finally just a few inches from Seokjin, Namjoon called out to him in his usual voice. "Seokjin?"
Seokjin snapped out of his daze and looked at the gingers in front of him that still needed to be cut. "What? What is it?" Namjoon hasn't heard this side of Seokjin for a few days and he felt himself relax at that.
"Are you...okay?" Namjoon asked, and that question was quickly followed by silence. The silence in the apartment room could create a permanent cut on Namjoon's heart, but he ignored how much the silence hurt and focused on Seokjin.
"Namjoon...I have a question to ask you." Seokjin said. Namjoon didn't know what was on Seokjin's mind, but he eventually nodded the moment Seokjin's knife cut the garlic.
Namjoon took one last look at Seokjin before approaching the dining table. It wasn't as sturdy as it was before, but it was still enough to support their food.
Seokjin walked around in the kitchen and Namjoon's watching him like a hawk. Normally, Namjoon would join him and hug him from behind. Then, after that, he'll start whispering into Seokjin's ear and flirt with him, until it eventually turns into them running around as the food burns.
But right now, it wasn't like that. Namjoon remained seated still on the chair and didn't say a word, nor move. Like a stubborn rock that refuses to leave after being crushed by wave after wave.
Cooking dinner has never felt so awkward and alien to Seokjin. He dropped his utensil once or twice during all the preparation and even burned himself.
Namjoon was naturally worried, but he remained glued to that seat like his life depended on it. As much as he wanted to go and help Seokjin, he was preventing himself from doing so.
Seokjin finally finished making dinner and he placed it on the dining table. He grabbed two plates, two sets of chopsticks, and two glasses.
He placed one for Namjoon and placed the other one for himself. For a second, he stopped to take a look at Namjoon, who also looked at him.
When their eyes met, Seokjin wanted to feel that connection and electricity that he's always felt with him, but he didn't.
Both of them looked away and Seokjin sat opposite Namjoon, instantly stuffing his face with food to prevent himself from conversing even further with the man in front of him.
Seokjin could feel Namjoon's eyes glaring at him, but after a while, Namjoon picked up the chopsticks and dug into the food Seokjin prepared.
Too salty.
The pork's too salty. Namjoon tossed the meat around in his mouth for a little while before finally swallowing it, balancing the saltiness of the meat with the rice.
Namjoon was about to open his mouth when Seokjin beat him to it, "I know. It's salty, isn't it?" Seokjin said but he continued eating anyway.
Namjoon stayed silent for a moment before nodding his head and continuing to eat the pork.
Whatever's happening between them is affecting how they both function. A couple more moments went like that and Seokjin's chair screeched against the floorboard. Namjoon looked up momentarily before placing his eyes back on the food in front of him.
Seokjin's steps felt deafening for Namjoon's ears, but he remained silent as his plate collided with the sink. Namjoon could hear the tap water from the kitchen and he can also feel how much pain Seokjin is in.
After finishing the food, Namjoon got up and went straight to the bedroom to grab the first aid kit from the bottom drawer and went back out in a flash. He got out of the room with the first aid kit held secure on his chest, but the moment he came out, hell broke loose.
"Learn some decency, Namjoon. Can't even place the damn dishes on the fucking sink," Seokjin spat at him, his plate already on his hands and already going on the sink. Namjoon's worried state eventually turned to an angry one and he placed the first aid kit on the table with a slam.
"I was worried about your fucking hand but you were more worried about a stupid fucking plate." Namjoon spat at him, taking Seokjin aback. Both of them looked at the burned area that Seokjin had in his hand and silence engulfed them once again.
Namjoon didn't say anything else and grabbed Seokjin's hand, opening the first aid kit with the other. Seokjin examined Namjoon's every movement and he couldn't feel the love from it.
At all.
And that said something.
• ✦ •
Namjoon and Seokjin entered their shared bedroom without another word. The door closed behind them and they could feel that heavy feeling again. That heavy feeling that's been reoccurring and disappearing for the past few weeks.
Seokjin walked to the bed and Namjoon followed after him. Seokjin could feel Namjoon's intense gaze from where he was standing, but he flipped the covers and tucked himself in at the right side of the bed.
Meanwhile, Namjoon made his way to the other side of the bed and turned in the opposite direction.
He couldn't face Seokjin.
He couldn't hug Seokjin.
And he couldn't feel Seokjin.
He clumped his hands on the bedsheet and he could feel tears well up in his eyes again.
They were in the same bed, but it didn't feel like they were in the same thought process.
It felt so different.
Namjoon hesitated before he shifts his body to turn around, only to be disappointed to see Seokjin's back. The amount of tension that's building up between the two of them isn't anything to be proud of.
It wasn't the tension that you'd expect.
"Seokjin? Are you still awake?" Seokjin shifted from his bed and sighed before answering Namjoon, "What do you think?" that answer from Seokjin's enough to shut Namjoon up. The wind howled from outside and the usually busy streets were quiet.
Namjoon made sure he wouldn't turn his body toward Seokjin's direction at all cost. It would feel too weird if he did, even though they were lovers.
Lovers?
Maybe he's lying to himself. They just felt like they had a label now.
Namjoon heard himself sniffle a cry and then tears started falling afterward. Why is he feeling this way? Why is he feeling like this? Why is this even happening? Does he deserve all of this?
He tossed and he turned on the bed and the coolness suddenly turned very hot. He felt very hot underneath the covers. A cold sweat formed on his forehead and he could only internally groan. Seokjin could feel the shift from where he's laid down, but he just shut his eyes.
Seokjin had a hard time sleeping that night because hearing Namjoon cry himself to sleep hurt enough. He had all this willpower to resist turning around and hugging Namjoon. Seokjin yanked the blanket in his direction unintentionally, and now Namjoon had no cover over him.
Seokjin had his eyes shut tight, but his ears were as open as a field. He could hear Namjoon sniff and shift on the bed until he stood up, leaving Seokjin on the bed. Seokjin could hear his footsteps leading to the balcony of their apartment room and the glass door slid open.
Namjoon felt the cool breeze of the air and he held onto the ledge. The texture of it was rough and he was chipping the paint away from it. He stayed silent, but he could feel the tears continue to fall down from his eyes.
He can't handle this.
A sigh finally escaped Namjoon as he collapsed to the floor, hugging his knees and rocking himself back and forth. He eventually needs to bring the topic up to Seokjin and resolve the problem, but his words were always caught up in his throat.
He can't find the right words to tell him.
To tell Seokjin that something's going wrong between the two of them.
He respects Seokjin. He respects him a lot. But with the way things are going right now, it's impossible.
A sniffle.
Namjoon wiped his nose and buried his head in his hands, crying even more and trying his best to resolve the mess that both he and Seokjin are in.
Seokjin could hear the sniffles from the bedroom, yet he did nothing about it. He could also feel a tear fall out from his eye and he wiped it away. If Namjoon wasn't going to talk about it, someone had to.
Tomorrow, Seokjin should address the problem because he's older than both of them. He shut his eyes and grabbed onto the blanket a little bit harder, almost tearing it. There's no escaping this.
This forest is full of twists and turns. This forest is full of thorns that are hurting them the more they move. This forest continues to eat Seokjin and Namjoon alive.
And both of them have had enough of it.