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namseok for no.11 and if you make it the usual amount of angsty i'm gonna cry.... just saying..... ily bea 💜

anja my dude my bestest my love, i’ll really try not to make it the usual amount of angst! i can do happy!!! i can do fun i can do this!!! /cracks knucklesupdate: i tried cried and am so, so sorry but ilu2 <3

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic

11 things you said when you were drunk (namseok)

hoseok is woken up by the feeling of a headache working through his head with the intensity of a jackhammer. his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth and he is in need of painkillers and a shitload of water. telling by the ache of his legs and arms and the growl of his tummy he should maybe just get a new meat shell.

when he tries to get up his skull is being pierced, or at least it feels like it and he groans and presses his hands over his face carefully, his fingers damp and his body too hot, sweaty sheets curled around him, strangling him.

“oh my god-”

“-you’re awake! good then, i guess”, a low voice hums from somewhere above and his dizzy, tired thoughts (accompanied by a shrill tinnitus) are convinced it’s god he’s talking to before he remembers the last person he was with.

“hey noodles, mind sharin’ some water?”, hoseok croaks and reaches out blindly, eyes still closed against the bright light of a sunny day reaching through the window of what he supposes must be namjoon’s room, telling by the scent and the softness of the mattress underneath his tensed and exhausted body. namjoon gives him what he asks for, cool bottle a pleasure to his sweaty palm and he downs it within seconds, sighing loudly when done and throwing it in the general direction of the trash bin (and hears the satisfying rustle of the plastic bag shortly after).

a minute or two he lays there, forearm over his face, sprawled out on namjoon’s bed and he hears namjoon’s body shifting on the floor besides the bed. his friend is quiet, too quiet, he can tell though being hungover and still dizzy. so he turns his head with a frown, blinks down at namjoon and studies his face through irritated slits.

“hey!” he nudges namjoon’s knee, let’s his wrist stay there, balancing shakingly. his hand feels too heavy, his arm even more. namjoon looks up, all doe-eyed and pouting. that is unusual for him, except when he’s pretending - which he is right now.

oh shit.

“you’re quiet. did somethin’ happen yesterday?”, hoseok asks. his voice is hoarse and the faint sting in his throat tells him he must’ve been really loud yesterday. or worse. he hopes he just sung along too enthusiastically. namjoon shakes his head wildly, grins not broad but actually strained and since it doesn’t reach his eyes they stay wide open and give his expression a somewhat psychotic undertone.

“nope!”, he answers then, popping the last syllable and though hoseok’s frown deepens and he tilts his head to get a better look at the other namjoon doesn’t falter, just continues staring. which makes it very obvious to hoseok that something’s off; namjoon is one of the worst liars he knows but then again try fooling jung hoseok.

“you’re lying”, he deadpans and coughs out a laugh, sitting up with a heavy groan before he sits cross-legged and face to face with namjoon, staring at his every mimic and gesture. his thoughts are still a spiral downwards, faint memories a colorful blur but his observational skills are as sharp as always. namjoon presses his lips together, puts a hand on his neck as a poor excuse to lower his eyes and hoseok tilts his head slightly to the side.

“joon-ah, tell me. right now, or i’m gonna-”

“-you were, like, super drunk, okay? i don’t blame you, i really don’t!”, it bursts out of namjoon, he even raises his palms in a defending manner and once again blinks up at hoseok with wide eyes, tousled hair and one ear still red from where he slept on it like death itself, giving him an even more child-like, innocent appearance. hoseok thinks about that, or at least tries to, and pinches the bridge of his nose to numb the everlasting headache. inhaling deeply he tries to bring back any kind of memory of the former evening and night but there’s just the faint throb of the skull-piercing pain and a blur of colors, scents and noises mixing together to something far too psychedelic and fucked up for past-drunk hoseok and his confused and seemingly slightly scared friend.

“ ‘kay, cool. super drunk. what else we got?”, hoseok asks and doesn’t know if he really wants to know. does he? nonetheless, namjoon obediently answers, voice loud and jumpy:

“you- you said some things and man, it’s cool! nothing nasty, just as i dragged you home-”

“-you what? how drunk-”, hoseok interrupts annoyed.

“-yeah, i gave you a piggyback actually and-”, namjoon tries to continue.“-what the fuck! what the fucking-”, hoseok interrupts again, voice growing shrill.

“-watch your profanity!”

“why’d you have to gimme a piggyback? dude, how gone was i?”, hoseok asks, voice not quieter but less hysteric. not that he minds being dragged on namjoon’s slender form but how did he even, honestly. the guy is a walking disaster on two legs without holding up another weight close to his, all muscles and energy, on top of his clumsy bean sticks.

at that namjoon shrugs, kind of exaggerating, pulling a face of pure distress and desperately gesturing around with his hands and hoseok can see that he almost hits long, slender fingers against the bed frame. hoseok just groans again, presses one hand over his face and waves the other dismissively at whatever namjoon wants to say because he already knows.

“fine, get it, i get it! super gone, ‘kay!”, he murmurs defeatedly, brushing a hand through his hair he looks at namjoon’s bashful and overly attentive face again and wants to punch him in said face a bit.

“but what’s that face for. what did i say”, he asks in a deadpan voice, not even raising it in the end quizzically like asking but more like demanding an answer, very well aware of his drunken self spreading everything that swims and buzzes through his brain immediately by yelling it out into the world - or trying to tell whoever happens to be next to him at that given moment. namjoon opens his mouth, pauses, looks around in a call for help. he has a finger raised and points it at hoseok absentmindedly and seems very desperate to find a halfway okay and acceptable way to describe whatever it was that hoseok did and said last night.

hoseok’s insides curl into nervous snakes, clenching his fists he bumps them against his knees and a low and impatient hum grows in his throat, turning into a whiny and high-pitched noise, his voice wavering until he reaches out and shoves namjoon’s shoulder who grunts and falls back a little before opening his mouth.

“it’s actually kind of hard to replicate our dialogue. more of a monologue, though. your monologue, that is”, namjoon rambles and his hands are doing this nervous thing again where they fling around in vague gestures, tangled in his hair, resting on his neck, tapping against the curve of his jaw, his lips every now and then. it drives hoseok crazy and he wants to both slap namjoon’s hands down and hold them tight so namjoon can’t use them to distract his gaze and busy himself and yell at namjoon to finally spit it out.

“i swear to god if you don’t tell me-”

“-you don’t remember anything?”, namjoon desperately asks, loudly over hoseok and blinks up at him and when hoseok shakes his head he presses his lips together in defeat, dimples drawing deep and averting his eyes again he scratches his right brow before he sighs deeply.

“okay, fine. so, we were at the club, and then at another, we met a few people and you wouldn’t stop dancing-”

“-which is so unusual!”

“-please don’t interrupt me. it’s hard enough to try to tell you this without you commenting on everything!”“i’m super nervous, of course i’d comment on everything!”“i know your nervous behaviors, hobi, but please.”

“sometimes i want to choke you. no hard feelings!”, hoseok chirps sarcastically but gestures namjoon to continue and mimics locking his mouth, throwing away an imaginary key. his insides are still a mixture of iron pressing him into the mattress and jelly making him want to move all of his limbs at once, throw up and additionally maybe jump out of the window, he can’t stand the tension in the air, surrounding and suffocating them.

“so, we’re there and we both drink far too much, okay?”

“we’ve been there a gazillion-”

“-what did i say about interruptions!”

“continue, my dearest friend”, hoseok sighs and actually presses his palms over his mouth. namjoon rolls his eyes at that, swallows and scratches his lower back, eyes darting around in a search for the right words.

“it was just really weird? you were in a kind of sentimental mood, you know? it was round about two blocks from here when you suddenly sat down and didn’t wanted to go on anymore”, namjoon starts again and hoseok’s neck and shoulders tense. when he tries to picture the situation the image becomes more clear in his head, he thinks his memory is coming back, this is not a picture his mind makes up to underline and visualize a story.

there’s his arm around namjoon’s neck though the other is way taller than him but he always manages to pull him down to his level. he thinks he remembers namjoon’s army coat against his leather jacket, namjoon’s side pressed against his and a pained groan when hoseok tugs at him too abruptly, hears his own laughter throbbing inside of his head. okay, that’s fine.

“why did i sit down”, hoseok asks slowly and namjoon avoids his piercing gaze.

“i don’t know, you just said you wouldn’t go any further and that i have to carry you”, namjoon mutters and hoseok feels his ears getting red and a nervous laughter bubbling in his chest, leaving his throat loud and obnoxious.

“hah, why would i- but you carried me?”

“well i was tired and you were super drunk and i wanted us home and safe and-”

“joon-ah.”

“yeah, i convinced you that a piggyback is just as cool as being carried bridal style”, namjoon coughs out and lifts a hand to wipe his nose, actually hiding a lopsided smile. the burn of hoseok’s ears spreads onto his neck.

“are you serious, i did not-”

“yeah, you did. but i somehow managed to get you on my back and-”

“-oh god, no! wait”, hoseok exclaims, almost yells and covers his eyes, shakes his head like he wants to get rid of the image when it blossoms behind closes eyes.

there he sits, on the ground seemingly, the perspective ant-like and his hands reaching out towards namjoon who is bent forward in front of hoseok, a wasted and anxious expression on his face, lit up by streetlights grotesquely.

“did i make grabby hands at you?”, hoseok asks coyly and when namjoon doesn’t answer he peakes through his fingers and sees namjoon suppressing a smile by biting his lower lip and nodding slowly, looking up in amusement yet very carefully.

“you did make grabby hands, yeah. pretty cute. you remember?”

“i think i do. wish i would not”, hoseok mutters and rests his head in his hands, elbows steadied on his knees as the memories come crashing in.

he thinks he was hanging off namjoon’s back with loose limbs, arms dangling around his neck, his right cheek pressed to namjoon’s left and his legs softly kicking at the long, clumsy bean sticks carrying him ever so often. hoseok thinks he remembers that his belly was a warm, swirling mess that felt good and that his chest was bubbling and even warmer and feeling even better. his cheeks ache and maybe that is because he was grinning like an idiot the whole time, wasn’t he?

“and you said something about how i smelled good which i didn’t believe because we were just coming out of the club and everything was smoke and club and shit. but you insisted and i know better than to fight with an intoxicated hoseok”, namjoon finishes causally and hoseok hears his own voice ringing inside of his head, too loud and words slurring, hot breath against namjoon’s neck smelling like jägermeister and his head throbbing and flashes of what seems like electricity in his memory lighting up the scene but that was probably just cars passing by.

“you smell sooo good, joon-ah, sososo SO good! very, very good! i love your smell, joon-ahhh! you smell-”

“-jesus, joseph and maria, i know, ho- shit, oh crap, you’re so fuckin’ heavy i’m gonna pass the fuck out! stop fuckin’ rubbing your face into mine, dude, i’m gonna fall over, shit fuck for fucks- fucking fuckery!”

namjoon has that habit of swearing very intensely and creatively as soon as alcoholic liquid hits his tongue and he didn’t disappoint this time, hoseok still hears his angry growls and breathy swears as lively as possible.

“uhm, do you remember what you said close to home? and, uhh, here?”, namjoon asks quietly, watching hoseok’s face going through different changes of emotions that come to an halt at something close to disgust, terror and embarrassment. he snaps out of it and blinks at namjoon over his hands, palms pressed together with fingers ghosting over his mouth as if he’s praying. for a complete loss of memory of the last night, probably.

the low hum that leaves his throat softly could be understood as “no” and namjoon nods, disappointment washing over his face and it’s that kind of expression that makes hoseok’s insides squirm painfully. his heart skips a beat and he wants to reach out to namjoon, his fingers are twitching but he presses them against his lips again, spreading them, hearing his knuckles protest lightly.

wasn’t it always like that? he really wants to reach out, unsure what his fingers want to do and would end up doing but it’s an urge he can hardly suppress and another reason why he isn’t around as often anymore. namjoon is his friend since forever and he doesn’t want to make namjoon uncomfortable, things between them stiff and awkward.

but things are stiff and awkward right now, namjoon is keeping words in the back of this throat that once belonged to hoseok. he spit them out, let them stumble out and now namjoon has to carry the burden of whatever he said and forgot. now namjoon feels bad about telling hoseok when it was him who said things he probably meant but didn’t want the insignificantly younger to hear, things he doesn’t want him to know.

hoseok is feeling sick, he wants to throw up just to release that guilt pressing down onto his stomach but knows it wouldn’t solve anything. so instead he reaches out, fingers ghosting over namjoon’s bleached hair and tips pressing against his oily forehead, shoving lightly. namjoon whines softly, his lashes flutter and he closes his eyes when his head rolls back onto his shoulders again. there’s those little wrinkles on his chin as he purses his lips, pouting. he looks soft and tired and vulnerable and hoseok’s heart aches a little bit, throbbing heavily.

“namjoon-ah, please tell me what i said. i gotta know”, he pleas quietly, voice wavering in annoyance but soft undertone comforting. namjoon releases a heavy breath through his nose, rubs at his eyes with one hand, fingers and thumb pressing into his skin. he continues doing that whilst mumbling an answer: “well, the things you said.. it’s more about how you said them? like i said, you were super emotional and it hit me kinda hard? first of you told me you loved me more often than usual, okay?”

hoseok swallows around the lump building in his throat and though his ribcage tightens he shrugs it off with another laughter, just as loud and obnoxious as the first.

“dude, we say that all the time-”

“-i know but it felt weird? not wrong but the way you said it..”

“hey, unlike other people-”, he coughs and let’s it sound like kim seokjin in between, “-i’m not a performance major slash acting student but let me have my moments!”, hoseok brushes it off, his neck and ears heating up too fast, his throat still tight, his voice overly loud in his ears. namjoon just looks at him and suddenly he seems like he has lived through five of their lifespans combined, with his fingers resting against his jaw he appears nothing but disbelieving.

hoseok’s strained smile falters and dies on his lips and he blinks once, twice before sucking in a breath and holding it just to feel the lack of oxygen making him feel even worse physically for a reason other than his conflicted emotions and the swirl of uncertain numbing coherent thoughts. he just looks at namjoon as namjoon looks at him and because hoseok is slouched over, with his elbows resting on his knees, and namjoon sitting on the ground cross-legged yet still tall they’re kinda even.

and it is so easy for hoseok to read namjoon. whilst namjoon is studying books hoseok kept studying people and he just reads in between the lines, studies the wrinkles between namjoon’s brows and the curve of his lips and the different depths of his dimples and he just knows. but at this very moment hoseok feels like looking at a book about a species he doesn’t know in a language not known to mankind and he swallows at the sting of the distance that forms between them. if hoseok would lift up his hand he could easily pull namjoon into some awkward but reassuring half-hug, laugh it off, say something along the lines how stupid they’re being and that they should just get back to normal and that he’s sorry - but he doesn’t.

hoseok doesn’t and namjoon doesn’t do anything either and hoseok feels that namjoon is reaching out to him, that he’s very carefully, tenderly but also precisely with the certain of a surgeon is pressing his finger onto hoseok’s softest spot that he hid so well. and it’s so hard not to waver and fall apart under namjoon’s tired and questioning, pleading gaze that he feels it physically and it’s more exhausting than any choreography, babysitting his younger cousins, running after the bus and night’s out dancing and drinking will ever be.

and he’s foolish to feel relief when namjoon lowers his eyes once again because namjoon’s favored weapon is still his words and how easy they seem to find him, sliding off his tongue artistically and spot-on, mustering to hide even the sharpest needles and venomous knives in candy cotton and soft silk.

“you know what hit me the hardest, hoseok? you said.. you really said that, and your voice, it was so soft i wish you’d remember”, namjoon begins and he actually huffs out a laugh at that, shaking his head he rubs at his jaw furiously and hoseok cringes inside and hates himself because that is definitely not a good sign, one of namjoon’s gestures of uncertain and how he must fight with himself internally.

“namjoon. please”, hoseok whispers, voice too soft and hoarse at the same time and the tension feels so thick that he can’t fidget around anymore, it’s handcuffing him and he sits there unmoving and practically waits for death to come and tear him apart, take him away.

“you said”, namjoon begins and his voice is suddenly very loud and vehement and hoseok feels the vibration of emotion trying to break the steadiness more than he hears it though it is audible; namjoon’s voice shakes ever so slightly, “you said you want to grow old with me.”

hoseok wants to swallow but his throat is too tight. he wants to lick his lips but his jaw is clenched and his nostrils dilate as he tries to get oxygen into his system, he won’t open his mouth. if he does he’ll cry and he can’t, he simply can’t. neither is he blinking because his eyes are burning and he can’t move an inch, his spine feels twisted, is aching and his stomach is so heavy he thinks it pulls him right through the mattress deep down under. he just looks at namjoon who looks at him again and his eyes are so goddamn huge, they’re so huge, almost round and there’s so much swimming in these orbs and his full lips are slightly agape and his chin is doing that wrinkly thing again and hoseok wants to curl himself around namjoon to protect him - but how to protect namjoon when the enemy is hoseok himself?

i want to grow old with you.

hoseok thinks he remembers saying that, he feels his dry tongue twitching at that comfortably like it said those words already and he wants to die. it’s not big, beautiful and breath-taking words that belong on cinema screens but it’s so intimate and tender, so specific. he knows his drunk self, has seen videos and has scared people away with how much of an emotional train wreck he becomes. but never ever did he think it was possible to hit namjoon with his emotional baggage, with this shitload of burning hot affection and twisting cold uncertain pulsing inside of his chest whenever he just thinks about the younger. but he did and he wants to die.

grow old with me.

hoseok’s lips part and he sucks in a heavy breath, raises trembling fingers to shield his face and releases a shuddering breath. he has to explain himself, he has to say something, anything to make things right again and put namjoon’s feet back onto even ground because he still looks at hoseok like he’s lost somewhere between the hysterical shouts of i love you and the last sleepily sighed grow old with me.

“look, namjoon-”

“-is it true?”, namjoon asks and his voice his high and thin with timidity and hoseok looks at him, startled. namjoon’s face, however, is the opposite; there’s a stern frown sitting on his face and he’s pressing his lips together, leaning forward and he seems almost like he’s threatening hoseok to tell the truth. the latter lets out a huff that isn’t anywhere close to a laughter and wets his lips, blinks against the burn covering his eyes.

“i guess”, he then answers quietly, watching namjoon’s every move. namjoon’s lashes flutter before he nods slowly, pondering.

“i mean-”, hoseok hurriedly speaks up again, voice loud and shrill breaking through the faint throbbing in his chest, the tinnitus in his head, “-i mean, sure we wanna grow old with each other, you’re one of my bestest friends!”

namjoon’s face falters and it’s one of the ugliest and saddest things hoseok ever had to witness and his insides curl around, his bones crunching under the weight of guilt dripping down on hoseok like hot, fluid iron and he chokes out something between a laughter and a groan at what he did.

“yeah, i guess”, namjoon murmurs and his voice is hollow and it’s not strong enough to hold any kind of sincerity. a few seconds, maybe half a minute passes in which hoseok sits very still and his head is really loud and yelling awful things at him, his throat and ribcage are being held way too tightly by some evil force. and he feels so bad for making namjoon feel bad, he wants to reach out but he’s an elephant standing in a castle of class and his every move and raise of his voice could break everything into shards.

but namjoon is lowering his head, bringing out a long arm and steadying himself as he gets up and there’s a shadow on his face that isn’t drawn by the physics of light and hoseok’s heart throbs and aches. his body reacts faster than his mind so he finally reaches out and wraps his fingers around namjoon’s wrist.

“i’ll get you something to eat-”

“-wait! i don’t wanna grow old with you”, hoseok nothing but shouts and it echoes from the walls that seem too close and namjoon looks down at him with wide eyes. then his mouth is standing wide open and an expression of confusion and hurt is washing over his features.

“you don’t want to- hoseok, what the-”

“shit no! i didn’t mean it like that, i’m sorry, i want to grow old with you, hell, i want it so much - but not as a friend”, hoseok finishes breathlessly, his voice is so full of emotions that is wavers and gets stuck in his throat too many times but hoseok keeps staring at namjoon and from the way namjoon’s eyes light up and his lips twitch he understands, right?

and hoseok dares to interpret the glint in namjoons eyes, washing over his face and making it glow and hoseok’s heart ache in the most pleasant way, as hope. he feeds off that hope and it enables him to open his mouth again.

“namjoon-ah, i never told you and i’m- i’m so sorry but i don’t wanna grow old with you like that. i mean, of course i want, god i want that so badly, but i also want to share a home with you and like, own two cats and a dog and maybe a fancy bath tub and-”

“-and share a bed, maybe”, namjoon quietly butts in, voice soft but no longer uncertain as he looks down at hoseok and his expression makes hoseok’s bones melt; there’s that upwards curl in the corners of his mouth and his eyes growing smaller, grin spreading pressing them into adorable little crescents and namjoon looks so overly fond that hoseok feels his throat tighten and there’s something bursting inside of his chest.

“and share a bed, that would be dope. maybe go to museums together-”

“-and hold hands and whilst you stare at the art i’d only stare at you.”

“you cheesy asshole, i hate you so much!”

and hoseok’s tongue feels too clumsy and too heavy to form any words but there’s no need to because namjoon understands. just like hoseok reads namjoon’s body language like it’s his mother tongue namjoon speaks hoseok fluently, with all the rambles and too many hollow words, he filters through them and his head magically manages to find a sense without hoseok having to explain himself.

so when hoseok chokes out “i hate you, i hate you so much oh my god”, he just leans down and and wraps his long, slender arms around hoseok’s shaking form and when the first sob breaks out it’s muffled by namjoon’s shoulder and he shoves and presses himself onto hoseok and the bed carefully so they’re sitting there with limbs entangled and hoseok shivering against namjoon’s steady form. his damp, cold fingers stroke over hoseok’s warm, quivering back and he hums sweet little nothings.

“there, there”, he goes.

“i really, r-really ha- hate you”, sniffs hoseok, hot tears stinging in his eyes and dampening namjoon’s neck and shoulder.

“no, you don't”, namjoon murmurs bemused and rubs his ear against hoseok’s, his stubble into the other’s cheek bone.

“i really don’t, i love you so much, oh my god”, hoseok cries out and he literally wraps himself around the taller, ankles locking behind namjoon’s back, his muscles tensing and he doesn’t let go for a long, long time.

eventually hoseok’s shaking and shivering finds an end, the thrill being stroked out by namjoon’s long fingers and whispers of comfort, low voice tired but warm and full. he’s able to withdraw, leaning back a bit he rubs his face over his own sleeve and then looks at namjoon with bleary eyes and the corners of his mouth still quirking downwards.

“i’m sorry for not bein’ honest with you, i just- didn’t know what to do”, he says, voice still heavy with tears and wavering ever so slightly but namjoon just smiles softly and his eyes twinkle so sweetly as his dimples press into his cheeks and hoseok really wants to kiss namjoon.

“it’s okay. but hey, hobi?”, he asks and suddenly looks very serious so hoseok is feeling the thrill of a nervous buzz trying to move every inch of his body.

“mh?”“grow old with me.”“are you fucking-”“-yes. please grow old with me, for real!”,namjoon nods and he sounds so certain, the curve of his smile is so warm and his eyes so tender and hoseok wants to cry again.

“yes. oh god, yes, please”, hoseok chokes out and this mixture of a laughter and a cry feels weird in his throat but the aftermath is those familiar bubbles rising in his chest, exploding in his throat and he wants to kiss namjoon so badly, he still can’t believe his luck, he still doesn’t trust his karma but here he is, the boy he loves and admires right in his arms and he wants to kiss namjoon but he doesn’t.

but when laughter bubble out of his vibrating, slender and energetic form namjoon leans forward and catches the giggles right from his lips so hoseok really doesn’t have to worry anyways.

#namseok #btswriters #bts fanfic #ksjknj #uhhh listen i needed how much three days?? and i'm so sorry anja ;_____; but here we go #and namseok are really the kings of talking and acting around things it's ridiculous?? this was an interesting study #on both their characters and their dynamics to me waow #it was fun but it also seem like absolute jibberish to me now saduaodsias #the struggles of a non-native speaker sighs #long post #anja <3 #94er #beas pen #answered