Warning: This fic will have moments of yandere and a hint of non-con. If this is not for you then please do not read. You have been warned.
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Summary: Seokjin is insecure and feels unworthy of Namjoon, who is a regular playboy and cheater. How will Namjoon react to a broken-hearted Seokjin demanding a break up?
The first time Jin noticed a change in behaviour was when Namjoon suddenly appeared in his class. The boy without a word crossed across the busy room, interrupting the teacher halfway through a maths lesson. He yanked a confused Jin out of his seat gently, glaring a silent threat to the protesting teacher. He quickly pulled the other behind him, out the classroom and across the corridors, thankfully empty as there was no transition period. Jin stared at the back of Namjoon with wide, surprised eyes.
Back in the classroom, his two new friends were exchanging confused looks, the seat in between them now empty. Since there wasn’t much, they could do other than worry for the other they continued to take much neater notes so that their friend could copy them later.
‘What happened?’ He was bombarded by his friends when he returned to the class, ushering a million apologies to their stressed-out teacher. He quickly took his seat and wrote down the whiteboard display I his neat penmanship in his neat notebook.
‘Nothing much, he just acted without thinking.’ Jin said, quietly, softly. ‘I think he just missed me a little and wasn’t sure how to handle that. We’ve never been apart for so long before.’ He continued in a whisper, a light smile gracing his features as he remembered his childhood with the other.
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he had done what he did, or how he got the courage to do it despite his attitude, but it felt so right. Like he was supposed to demand what he wanted, and it would come true. It had been a fleeting thought as he passed Jin’s classroom, only to se him secretly giggling with his friends behind the teachers back.
A sudden bout of rage seized him and he just…acted, without thinking. Coming to a halt in the middle of the corridor, he looked down at his slight older yet shorter friend.
‘Promise me,’ he begun, gently holding the others hand, brushing his calloused thumb across the soft hands, marvelling at their pale colour and neat nails. It turns out Jin didn’t bite his nails when he got nervous, or at least not according to his hands.
‘Promise me,’ he continued, light desperation shinning in his eyes. It didn’t match his choice of black, overconfident clothing consisting of a black ripped tee, black ripped jeans and black ripped jean jacket. His too large boots stood apart, stance confident, contradicting in everyway how he truly felt.
‘Promise me,’ he whispered, a gently smile on his lips as he leaned down while simultaneously raised Jin’s hand to his mouth, ‘that’ll you’ll always be mine…’
‘JIN, IF YOU DON’T HURRY, YOU’LL MISS YOUR BUS TO YOUR PART TIME!’ 21-year-old Namjoon cackled, swinging a set of keys from his finger, an idle smirk on his face. The duo, a brand-new couple of six years was living together. They attended the same university and studied the same subject; Philosophy Major and Music with Dance minor. Of course, as the boyfriend who wore pants in their relationship that begun many years ago, with an interrupted maths lesson, a rush of rage and a poor math teacher, Namjoon picked the major they were to study. Jin was eager to follow in the other’s footsteps, marvelling at his boyfriends high IQ.
When he had originally and briefly entertained the idea of studying Korean and Foreign Cuisine Studies, Namjoon quickly reminded him of their high school separated and with a few carefully implanted choice words, he had Seokjin quickly agreeing to the younger. Since then, they did everything from coursework to homework to partner projects together. For both, they moved out and lived together before living with anyone else. They shared everything together, including a bedroom. Namjoon preferred holding the shorter man close at night, laying gentle kisses on his shoulder and speaking of ancient philosophers, and the stories each on told.
In return, Jin would quietly listen like an obedient pet, falling more and more in love with Namjoon, grateful that all those years ago a certain kindergarten teacher had forcefully sat the duo together.
During the days, Jin would cook and clean and sometimes work his part time. His schedule was carefully planned to the minute, and each minute was accounted for. So, for him to slip up like today was unheard of.
He clattered down the stairs clumsily, a habit he picked up from Namjoon, rushing to the other. His jacket was half pulled on as he ran, slotting himself past his younger boyfriend, and out into the outside of their apartment complex. Hearing Namjoon lock the door to their house, he took the others hand as they walked to the bus stop. Jin would catch the bus to work, and Namjoon would walk a block and arrive at the library where he would study until it was time to pick Jin up and take him home.
Some days the duo would get takeout and watch cheesy movies and others they would cook home meals that reminded them of home and of their families, christmas’ and birthdays’ and other holidays with wide grins in their faces.
Namjoon might turn on the radio and slow dance in the kitchen with the other. Their love would reflect for the other in each other’s eyes, grins threatening to split their faces. In those moments of domestic bliss, they couldn’t ask for more.
At least, most of them. Some days Namjoon would get a text from the ‘studio’ and he’d have to go out. He’d get dressed in the fanciest clothes he saved for special occasions, and sneak past Jin, calling a hurried goodbye as he left.
He’d then catch the bus to the other side of town, walk a few streets and arrive at a different house each time. He wouldn’t leave for hours, only coming out in the early morning with rumbled, lipstick stained clothes.
Some days, Namjoon and Jin had the best moments of their lives, together in the security of their shared flat. Some days, Namjoon would have the best days of his life, fucking a new soul. Some days Jin would have the worst days of his life, staring at cold food until it got too late before heading to a cold empty room, letting a few tears slip into the quiet of his bed as his heart ached
