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joheunsaram · 3 years

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To Make A Power Couple - 07 (knj)

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge.

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord.

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising.

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay.

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital’s menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

———————————-

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

———————————-

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way.

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced.

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault.

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time.

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal.

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once - the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot.

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away.

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity.

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

———————————-

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable.

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can’t even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.”

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

———————————-

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake.

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours.

“Yeah, your dork!”

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

–

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