naмĸooĸ (вreaĸυp aυ)

Jungkook likes to think that he isn't as impulsive and reckless as everyone says he is, but the truth of the matter is that he is. It’s what finds him at Incheon International Airport at *** crack o’clock with a duffel bag containing ten days of clothes, buying a ticket for the first flight out of Seoul he can afford. As he walks to the gate, he searches for an AirBnb in London, unsure, really, of whether or not that will be a good idea. He’s never been to London, never even had a slightest bit of interest in the city and thus has no idea what it’s like. He’d seen snapshots when he went to see Kingsman with—Jungkook shoos the thought away quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket in hopes that it’ll help clear his mind too. He brings up his boarding pass to hand off to the flight attendant at the terminal, smiling gratefully because Christ, he’s cutting it close.

It’s been a month since the breakup, and Jungkook wants to say he was fine for a while and just needed some time away, but Jungkook was miserable. His bed became a magnet for self-hatred. He kept telling himself how lame it was that he was this distraught over some guy. But Namjoon wasn’t—isn’t—just some guy. Jungkook gave him almost four years of his life. He gave him his heart. It just fucking hurt.

The last straw was a video, posted on Hoseok’s Snapchat story just the other night. They have this thing where their friend group barhops once a month, and Jungkook decided to opt out. Taehyung asked him why, which was kind of stupid, and he got an honest response: “I feel like shit, Tae, and I don’t want to be reminded of why.” He knew if he didn’t go, Namjoon would, but he was somehow still surprised when he saw the older in the background. Twice as surprised when he saw the way he was dancing with a random partner. He saw all the signs, could tell easily that Namjoon took the person home, and he felt sick to his stomach.

He keeps his duffel bag on him as he boards the plane and makes his way down the aisle in search of his seat.

“Twenty-six F, twenty-six F,” Jungkook mumbles, squinting at the too-little lettering above each row, underneath each overhead compartment. He brightens when he finds it, dims a little when he realizes it’s the window seat, and nearly jerks back in shock when the aisle seat holder raises their head.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” the flight attendant asks and Jungkook’s confused for a moment before he remembers oh yeah, I’m not wearing a binder today.

“Sir, actually,” Namjoon says from his seat, leaning into the aisle to get between him and the attendant.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” the flight attendant corrects quickly, flushing.

“Is there any other seat available on this flight?” Jungkook interjects hurriedly, trying to hide the rising panic in his voice.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the flight is completely booked. Our last ticket was sold just a few minutes ago.”

Yeah, to me, Jungkook thinks, and he curses every deity, god, goddess, and other higher power for allowing this specific reality come into being. “Are you sure? Can I… trade with someone?”

A look passes over her face before she schools it, but he still caught what she wants to say: Who in their right mind would want a window seat? What she says instead is, “Sorry, sir. I don’t think we have time.”

Dread settles down in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach as he sighs in resignation, nodding in acknowledgement and stepping out of the way for Namjoon to let him in. He does so quietly, doesn’t say a thing to Jungkook but the younger can feel his eyes on him. They both reach for the armrest at the same time, and Jungkook retracts his hand with a flinch that travels over his whole body.

“Sorry,” Namjoon says quietly, and Jungkook hates how quickly he makes a face and how long it takes to mask it. Namjoon notices. Of course he does. He notices and quickly shuts up, faces forward, and listens intently as a different flight attendant goes over the safety procedures. Jungkook opens the window and turns as far towards it as the seatbelt will allow him to face, slides his headphones over his head, and wishes he could be anywhere but there.

Namjoon has many talents, but perhaps his greatest one is running away from his problems. It’s a talent he’s managed to perfect over the years, though he hit road bumps in which he could actually process his emotions and maturely handle the problems he stumbled upon. Most recently, however, he’s managed to carry out the most flawless act of it.

Jungkook is an integral part of their friend group, and simply avoiding all of their friends wouldn’t cut it. They all knew where he lived—someone would end up at his apartment or one of his favorite places to relax and bombarding him with questions he couldn’t answer and demands he couldn’t meet and sincerity he couldn’t match. The best solution was to get out of Seoul, and Namjoon decided to go big or go home. Going to the other side of the globe would allow him to be far away from his problems and also see a new place he’d never been before. And the others would say it was irrational of him, but Namjoon was hurt beyond rationale.

He booked the flight almost immediately after the breakup, set to leave about a month from that day, packed and unpacked because he managed to talk himself out of it, then packed up again and repeated it all until the night before his flight. He woke up only an hour later and headed for the airport with whatever he managed to pack before he passed out and went through the motions of check-in and security, barely awake enough to process any of it.

He’s hyping himself up to not think about Jungkook as the passengers finish the overhead compartments and getting settled in their seats, because every day before that, Jungkook was all he could think about.. This is a vacation that will last for as long as it needs to, and he’s doing this to get his mind off of Jungkook. To clear his mind. To give himself the breather he deserves after everything that’s happened. He thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job of talking to himself, because he almost feels confident he will be able to keep his mind off of the only boy he’s ever truly loved. But right when he starts to believe in himself, two jean-clad legs appear in his peripheral. Namjoon glances up, and every single cell in his body turns to mush.

They stare at each other for a minute, and he can already see Jungkook going into flight mode. He sees the flight attendance approach, jumps in to make the correction, and then scoots by to let Jungkook to his seat, trying not to too-obviously inhale. When they reach for the armrest at the same time, Namjoon is filled to the brim with regret the moment the automatic apology leaves his lips.

He keeps an eye on the younger until he seems to zone out, music probably on full blast, eyes closed so he can go straight to sleep. Jungkook doesn’t look to be in any better condition than he is, which makes him feel a little bit better, but he still looks effortlessly gorgeous, tired as the bags under his eyes reveal he is. Namjoon wants to kiss him. Wants to hold him.

God, it’s only been a fucking month, you useless sack of frozen meatballs.

“Can you stop staring at me, dude?” Jungkook mutters. Namjoon winces.

“I’m not staring at you,” he replies with a snap. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m going to be completely heartbroken over you and pine over you.”

“I can feel your eyes on me, asshole. Don’t need to open mine to know how it feels when you’re watching me.”

Namjoon thanks his lucky stars Jungkook didn’t say anything about his wording. He didn’t actually intend to say it like that, but he can’t exactly take it back. So he eloquently says, “whatever” and returns to listening to the pilot, even though every inch of his body is screaming at him to pay attention to Jungkook.

He has to physically and emotionally prepare himself when he sees the flight attendant asking if passengers would like any refreshments a couple rows down, because he needs to wake up Jungkook. Or get his attention or whatever. And he knows Jungkook won’t get anything because on this airline, it’s not complementary, and he won’t want to pay more. But it gives him a chance to touch Jungkook and- Is that weird? Is that creepy? Does that overstep any boundaries created in the last twenty-four hours? It’s only been about four weeks, but it feel like it’s been forever. Namjoon’s missed Jungkook to the point that it’s almost absurd, but he feels like there’s a wall of bulletproof glass separating them.

He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and god, it’s so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes snap open and he glares at Namjoon, who tries to subtly gesture towards the flight attendant. The younger slides his headphones off. “What?”

“Hey, you’re not even listening to music. Did you just put those on so—”

“So that you would leave me alone? Yes, but it looks like it didn’t work anyway. What do you want?”

His chest aches. It’s so uncharacteristic of Jungkook to talk to him like this. He’s not used to it. Even their other arguments were a lot tamer. And he wants to say he doesn’t understand, but he does. What he said that night… he wouldn’t be surprised if Jungkook never forgave him, and his chest aches even more.

“I was just letting you know that the flight attendant’s coming to take your order,” Namjoon bites back.

“I’m not ordering anything. You should know that, since you think you know me so well.”

It’s a bullet wound to the chest, to have his own words thrown back at him. The regret and the shame and guilt all hit him at once, crash over him as Jungkook fixes a hard look on him. His otherwise stoic face must crack—he’s sure it does and that Jungkook sees. So he turns, doesn’t answer, and stares straight ahead, trying to get his emotions under control before he says or does something stupid, like admit how much he wishes they’d never argued that night.

Jungkook is hyper-aware of him. He can feel every time Namjoon shifts, every time the older looks at him, every time Namjoon sighs, and it’s tearing him apart. It takes every bit of self-control in his body to ignore him, but even then the urge to say something is nearly impossible to ignore. There’s a point where he almost does, almost asks why he’s taking a flight to London at *** crack o’clock, but when he sits up and opens his eyes, Namjoon is fast asleep, lips parted, chin to his chest as his body just barely keeps his head from falling completely. And because it’s been weeks since he’s since him, Jungkook let’s himself look.

It infuriates him how great Namjoon looks, how well he seems to be doing. He’s beautiful, and it seems effortless to Jungkook. His hair’s a little messy and he’s wearing a black t-shirt and sweats, but he doesn’t look like his heart was ripped out of his chest or like he was at all affected by a breakup with his boyfriend of four years. He looks… fine. Perfectly fine.

So lost in thought, Jungkook doesn’t realize Namjoon’s leaning until his head makes it onto Jungkook’s shoulder and the older lets out an obnoxiously loud snore that has several heads turning towards them. Jungkook tries to relax his muscles, tries not to sit so stiffly, but they haven’t been this close in so long. He debates with himself for a minute and then two, and then he takes a deep breath, takes in the smell of Namjoon’s shampoo—honeydew.

(“Why honeydew? That’s so… obscure,” Jungkook said.

Namjoon chuckled, nuzzling his face into the younger’s neck. “Good word. And I like the fruit, so I assumed I’d like the scent. Which I do.”

Jungkook hummed and buried his nose into his hair as much as he could manage. “Smells nice.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook hummed again. He was and still is always very sensitive to smell, very picky about the scents he kept around himself—the laundry detergent he used, his shampoo, scented candles he burned, fragrances he used for himself, the smell of his chapstick—and he was sure Namjoon knew this. “I’ll keep buying it then.”)

He wants him closer, wants Namjoon to wrap his arms around him like he used to. He wants to bury his face in his hair, lose himself in honeydew. But instead, he sits there stiffly, waiting for the older to wake up. But his lack of sleep eventually catches up with him, and he nods off before he can stop himself

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***