a/n - this chapter contains smut. 

...

[ 212 days later ]

...

"So, this is where the magic happens, hm?" Namjoon hummed out loud, shoulder bracing against the doorway of your studio as his arms crossed over his chest, "Never thought I'd get the chance to ever step foot into your safe haven..." The smile on his handsome face never faltered as he pulled himself off from the doorframe to enter your workspace, eyes widening as he marveled at the interior of the place once he stepped inside, "Even though the directions you gave me to get here were a maze." Namjoon rubbed at the nape of his neck, wide shoulders shrugging, "I think you did that on purpose." He joked as he eased into the room, the fascinated expression on his face only growing more impressed when he glanced around.

It only took you seven months to invite Namjun to visit you in your city. Seven months. 212 days. 30 weeks. Time had gone by so fast. So quick that the moment you laid eyes on him, you wondered why you didn't tell him to come visit you sooner.

In the time frame from when you saw him at his exhibition to now, you and Namjoon had grown considerably close. Close enough to admit that you both were inexplicably infatuated with each other. Close enough to say that you both knew what you wanted. And what you wanted... was each other.

You had spoke briefly about taking it to the next level. To start seeing each other more seriously. Namjoon never asked you to formally be his girlfriend. You both knew it would be too weird for him to do that. And you both also knew the limitations you would face moving into the dating stage. One main issue being the fact that you were both based on different continents.

Fortunately, the distance between the U.S and Korea didn't seem to affect the two of you because everything felt so right. Being together seemed so right no matter which angle you looked at it from. What was the saying that Namjoon used when he oh so casually mentioned being more serious? 

'It takes two to tango.' 

You laughed at him in that moment but hey... it made sense. It does take two to tango. And if you both wanted this, you vowed to each other that somehow and someway you would make it work.

And work it did.

Namjoon insisted on staying up late to talk to you most nights. Using the excuse that he was a night owl to talk to you until the wee hours of the morning. And you made the effort with communication on your end as well. Finding it easy to talk to Namjoon without wanting to disappear the way you would do with other people. He was the only person aside from your assistant that you spoke to frequently.

It was easy. Liking Namjoon was easy. Dating Namjoon was easy.

You didn't have to think twice about anything when it came to him.

It first started out as texting back and forth. Sharing snapshots of your day in the form of pictures and videos. Then it gradually moved on to talking on the phone. Namjoon initiating it, of course. Stating that it was easier for him to chat on the phone while he was on the go rather than making you wait for his responses through text.

You didn't mind at all. In fact, you had grown so accustomed to hearing his voice on the other end of the phone line that on the nights when he was busy with work or too tired to stay awake and talk, you missed hearing his voice and wondered how you went so long without indulging in that gorgeous, honey dripped voice all this time without becoming greedy. 

You grew enamored with that rich, deep espresso tone of his that lulled you to sleep most nights without you even knowing. Starting with your eyes closing while he told you about the whirlwind of a day he had then gradually moved forward with the same thing happening the next day when he told you about the frustrating album he had been working on that was taking up too much of his time. Then to the final concert preparations his team was taking care of before their indefinite hiatus took place. 

He was tired. All the time. But he made the time for you. He made the effort for you. You simply couldn't tune him out and instead, you listened. Just listened.

Then it moved on to you drifting off to a comforting sleep as he finished telling you about the weather in Seoul. He described everything so well that you didn't need pictures to show. He could tell you how the bright sun in the morning illuminated across the city horizon. Making the tall buildings in the distance look like a scene out of a movie. Or the way the outdoors smelled after a heavy rainfall just the same way it did the night he first kissed you. His favorite night, he said. Or the way some of the clouds in the sky looked like the shape of his beloved member's Jungkook head. Apparently, Jungkook was bunny shaped or something. You hadn't met him yet but from the way Namjoon spoke about him, you just knew he was adorable. 

You could go on and on.

Just listening to him talk about random things that were interesting to him made your conversations together appealing. He could talk about anything and still sound astute. He was brilliant and articulated his words better than you ever could. And he was always so polite about it too. As if he genuinely didn't mean to be so intelligent.

He didn't make you feel stupid for not knowing what he was talking about and rather than ridiculing you for not being up to date with the way the world was spinning, he dumbed the news down for you.

He was cute that way. With the way he would go, "Hey, did you hear about those wildfires happening on the east coast? World's ending soon. We need to prepare for doomsday, noona." or "Another hurricane warning for the Floridians... did you know alligators just... roam the streets over there? Freaky. Remind me to never go there." His dry humor is what you loved the most about Namjoon. The way he was able to spit facts about something happening in the world but also make it funny at the same time. He was adorable. And yes, he called you noona. It was just a Namjoon thing to do.

Namjoon's positive influence on you changed your life in a special way. In a way where you started to be more aware of your surroundings. In a way where you would start to open the world news websites everyday on your own and read about the earth and its problems like your own morning paper just so that you too could mention the wildfires and hurricanes to him as well.

Part of you felt this was too good to be true. Namjoon was too good to be true. There was still that nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn't deserve any of this. That you were delusional. Insane even. 

Anxiety settled in faster than you wanted and finally caught up to you on the night he told you about the looming mandatory military conscription creeping up on him and the rest of his teammates.

That might have been the only night in seven months that you didn't sleep well even if he promised you that it wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Your heart dropped to your stomach learning that all able-bodied men in Korea must fulfill this service. It was the most fucked up thing you had ever heard about,

"It's just eighteen months. It's nothing." He reminded you with a pained sound in his voice. It was hard for him to tell you this too. To accept it. Especially this early in your relationship. Namjoon wasn't ready to leave yet. Everything was going so well. It wasn't fair.

That night could have been your first argument if this was you and your ex. Your temper's ability to shoot up and turn hot red faster than you could control it was one of the main reasons why you and you ex argued so much. But not with Namjoon. He had a way to diffuse the situation before you even got worked up about it. He was just good like that. Never a fighter.

"What do you mean, you have to?" You recalled yourself almost yelling into the phone.

"I have to. That's exactly what I mean." Namjoon's voice was calm and collected. As if he was bracing himself for this moment, "I don't want to, but I have to." He whispered, "I know it's fucked up. I know it's not what you want to hear. But it's my duty. I have to do it."

You could remember the way your voice cracked on the other end of the phone when you told Namjoon you understood after what seemed like an eternity of silence. And he could remember the way his heart broke in his chest when the reality was that he would be away from everything he loved and appreciated for almost two years. That included you.

Yes, it wasn't fair. It truly wasn't.

And just like that, missing each other became more frequent than you expected. The possibility of you both having to be without proper contact for almost two years was enough to make you spring into action and then one night, on a whim, you asked Namjoon to come visit you.

He was on the next flight out, landing a day and a half later. Taking a few hours to recuperate...

And now here he was.

"I gave you the wrong directions on purpose because I didn't want you to come here." You explained with a deadpan expression on your face, head turning from the easel you had been working at, paintbrush in one hand like always while your freehand smeared finishing details on your painting, touching up parts of the piece with your bare fingers because something about freehanded painting always felt better without a brush, "I've never let another person into my workspace except for my assistant. You're the first." You mumbled sheepishly as you beckoned him into the studio, "I was hoping you would get lost on your way and then give up." A small smile budded around your lips then it slowly spread into something wider. Happier.

Namjoon's smile couldn't help but grow on its own as he approached you. Feeling the excitement much like a golden retriever puppy, he bumped into a table full of a various collection of paints and different types of brushes on his way to you, making the selection of painting material jolt and rattle on top of the table from the force of his body colliding with it, "Ouch." He grumbled under his breath, ignoring the corner of the table that jabbed its way into his hip and made him lose his balance in typical clumsy Namjoon fashion.

"Please careful. I can't afford to have you hurt." You instructed with a chuckle, his clumsiness making you laugh in endearment at the way he always seemed to find himself knocking into inanimate objects.

Despite his fumbling, he made his way to you with his arms extending to open them up to you for an embrace freely, "A small part of me believes you actually don't want me here." He hummed with please as you set your paintbrush down and found yourself in his arms at once, "The bigger part of me doesn't." He whispered, face pressing into your hair as he enveloped his strong limbs around your shoulders to bring you into a warm, tight hug, "Actually, I did get lost. But I know how to find my way to you." He let the words linger, giving your frame a gentle squeeze as he pressed a small kiss into your hair then nuzzled his face into the locks, "I missed you, noona."

"You're so funny that I almost forgot to laugh." You dropped your paintbrush onto your work table as Namjoon got closer to you, finding yourself falling into his embrace with ease, "I missed you too." You kept your paint smeared fingertips away from touching him as you hugged him back, your own arms wrapping around his waist, your forehead pressing into his broad chest to breathe him in.

He was wearing his signature cologne. A scent friendly eau de parfum that made him always smell like fresh laundry. You stood there in the safety of his embrace and silently appreciated his lips in your hair, the soft rub of his cheek against you and then the feel of his chin resting comfortably on top of your head, strong arms giving you yet another reassuring squeeze. A type of squeeze that let you know he wasn't going anywhere.

For two people that had been apart from each other for seven months, you handled it very well. If you were both out in public embracing this way right now, people would not have guessed that you had spent two hundred days away from one another. You didn't feel the need to jump him and cling onto his body like a koala. Didn't feel the undying burning and yearning taking control of you. Didn't feel the need to shout out and exclaim how unbearable it had felt without his presence.

You didn't have to do a damn thing because Namjoon knew how you felt without you having to tell him. Without you having to show him.

You thought of all the ways you would act when you finally saw him again and being this relaxed wasn't how you pictured it. But that was just Namjoon's aura. He didn't exude an energy that made you want to jump off the walls like a dog having zoomies. That's what Namjoon liked about you. The way you welcomed him into your space as if this wasn't the first time he visited. As if you were both long-time lovers that knew each other your whole lives.

He appreciated the level of maturity your relationship had. To be away from one another for hundreds of days but still feel as though nothing changed. There was no need to overcompensate for each other's absence. He didn't attack you with kisses and physical touch the second he laid eyes on you because he knew you wouldn't like that. He respected your space. Respected your body language. Respected you.

You didn't have one of those scenes in the movies where the characters ran in slow motion up to each other and knocked one another to the ground when they embraced. But it all felt the same as the movies showed anyways. You felt at ease to be reunited with him. As if he had been here this whole while. And that's all you wanted.

"I don't want to let go." Namjoon murmured quietly, eyes closing as you both stood there in perfect solace, "I could stand here all day." You could feel his smile from the top of your head, and you sighed softly in response, wordlessly squishing him tighter within your embrace,

"I need to wash my hands." You let out a small laugh but made no effort to move. Too comfortable in the solidarity Namjoon's hold gave you to remove yourself from being pressed into his chest the way you were, "I have paint all over me. I just realized." You started to move away but Namjoon held you tighter, shaking his head against you with a gentle, 'I don't care' mumbling under his breath after.

This certain calmness to your relationship is what you appreciated the most about Namjoon. His ability to refrain himself. To maintain his composure even if you both were in the privacy of your studio. He had to credit that to his idol persona. Knowing that he could be followed anywhere by the pesky paparazzi. Even though he was safe in your studio, Namjoon simply couldn't bring himself to react further than he was right now and so, he chose to withhold from showing his true desires until the doors were locked and windows were closed.

Namjoon knew he couldn't risk having his relationships exposed to the evil vultures that were the media. His best friend Jungkook went through the same issue with them. Not that the youngest member of BTS could have helped it. He was careful too. But Namjoon saw the way the media took something vulnerable and special to his group mate and made it their own spectacle without a care on how it would affect him or his relationship. 

There was no way Namjoon was going to let that happen with you. He learned from Jungkook. And although Jungkook's situation ended in the best way it could... Namjoon just couldn't risk it. (a/n if you read leave me lonely, this is kind of a spoiler oops). 

You knew you both missed each other. Were dying to get your hands on each other. But there was a time and place for everything and part of you knew that this studio of yours wasn't it... or was it?

"Oh. I have something for you." Namjoon reluctantly unwrapped his arms from around you only because he wanted to show you the gift he got for you before he forgot to do so, "I know you hate presents but-" He chuckled, head hanging in shyness as you stepped away from him with curiosity as he raised the flap of his side bag and dug into a pocket within it, "It's nothing. Really. You never let me get you flowers or send you gifts. But this one... you must take it." He started to ramble, stopping himself before he got too carried away and deciding to just show you his gift rather than talk about it.

That was the moment you had the chance to look at Namjoon properly for the first time in seven months. His hair was cropped shorter and dyed jet black. Still long enough for you to run your fingers through but the little specks of grey you learned to admire were all gone. He still looked handsome nevertheless. And his skin glistened when the sunrays of your studio windows reflected off his face. His soft brown eyes crinkled to gentle half-moons that only appeared when he smiled. Dimples still cut perfectly into his chiseled face. He wore a soft looking, cream colored half zipped sweater with a pair of snug fitting dark washed jeans and a pair of black boots. A black nylon waist bag slung trendily over his shoulder. Giving him a warm, toasty look that was just so... Namjoon.

You quickly wiped your paint smeared hands off onto the apron you wore around your waist, not realizing you also had a brush of paint on the peak of your cheekbone that had dried and left a soft smear of color on your skin, "Namjoon... You didn't have to." You frowned deeply but your brows quirked in question as the jingle of his gift unraveled before your eyes when he took it out from within his pocket, "A suncatcher!" You recognized the gift immediately. The iridescent stained glass dangled and spun around the chain it hung from. Beautiful crystal ornaments tinkling as he held it up for you to see, "It's so pretty." You smiled, eyes catching Namjoon's own who had been staring at you all the while.

"It is." Namjoon's dimples graced his features as he watched your reaction to his gift. Feeling his heart swell with pride. He always had a knack for picking personable presents that everyone loved. "You're prettier." He gushed; the back of his neck pricking with heat from his own embarrassment.

He wasn't lying though. It was nice to see you in your element. With paint on your clothes and skin. Radiant smile lighting up the entire workspace. The front of your hair pushed back using a headband with stubborn strands that escaped while you worked hanging messily around your face. Some pieces coated with dried paint at the ends of them. The rest of your locks were tied into a messy bun resting at the nape of your neck. You wore old, torn clothes. Comfortable attire. Working attire.

Your skin glowed from the rays of sun bouncing off your cheeks and the smile which he had come to yearn to see the most out of anyone he's ever met before shined bright and happy. 

It was different... Seeing you this way. But this was the way Namjoon liked you the most in. The real you. The person that was healing. The person that was hurting.

The person that liked him. The person that wanted him.

Just him.

"Shall we hang it up somewhere?" You pulled Namjoon out of his trance, crossing over to the large window in your workroom and pulling the curtains open wider, grabbing a step stool and climbing onto it with a smile, one foot perched on the top of the stool step and the other balanced easily on the step below, a hand extending towards Namjoon who watched you with a fond smile on his face as you climbed onto the stool,

"Of course." He hummed in delight at your eagerness to hang his gift up on display. "I made it myself. Some pieces might not be soldered on properly. I hope they don't slip out. It was hard to press onto the glass with the soldering iron. Hurt myself a little." He gushed with slight embarrassment as he held the suncatcher out to you, holding up his hand that sported a bandage around his left index finger and another on his pinky to show you as you peeked at him with interest, "But I had fun making it." He nodded with a small laugh, standing at your side to watch you sling the gift up onto the rod which held your workroom curtains up.

It was true that Namjoon made the suncatcher himself. Taking a class on how to make them during one of his days off. He wasn't one to buy and spoil his loved ones with expensive gifts. He chose to lavish the people in his life that he appreciated with personable, touching items that he either made on his own or found on his travels. 

Yes, he was a bit clumsy with the tools when learning how to place the intricately picked pieces of glass out. And yes, he pinched his fingertips a few times toying with the pliers and wire cutters, but it was all in the enjoyment of the activity... and in the happiness on your face right now in seeing the handmade gift he poured a good few hours hunched over a table making it for you.

"Hm... what can't you do?" You teased him with a grin, slinging the suncatcher up easily along the rod and hooking it in place as if it was meant to be there, "Pretty." You watched as the ornament spun around and then began to reflect light immediately as the sunrays from the window hit it, "I love it." You turned to look at Namjoon, a softer, knowing smile along your lips as you faced him while still standing on the stool.

At this level, you were at Namjoon's perfect height now. He didn't have to tilt his head down to look at you. You didn't have to crane your neck upwards to see his face either. You were at the right height and distance to take a better look at the man you were dating. Dating... hah. You couldn't believe it. Namjoon was your boyfriend. You were his girlfriend. And you were dating each other.

Dating was such a weird concept to you. Having only ever been serious about nothing other than your art and your ex. You poured your everything into your last relationship. Spent five years with a person that left you broken, empty and questioning your life. Meeting Namjoon was simply just happenstance. You would have never moved on so fast if it wasn't for the type of person Namjoon was. So... gentle. And warm. He made it so easy to fall for him and even though he thought he was trying too hard; he didn't make it look so.

"I thought of you the entire time I made it..." He paused, hesitating to reveal to you just how cheesy he could be, "...Which colors would you like. Which personal elements I could incorporate into it." He nodded as he continued, gazing up at the gift and pointing to the bottom of it where a piece of glass dangled at the end, a simple purple colored heart shaped piece of stained glass with the initials 'RM' were soldering into it using the tiniest writing on it so that it wasn't easy to catch unless you looked at it closely, "I know you don't like sappiness. But I'm afraid you might have to get used to it." His head turned to look at you, the suncatcher's light bouncing off the side of his hair and face now that he was looking in your direction, making rainbows bounce off his skin. 

You watched Namjoon close, feeling stupid for not noticing that he had engraved the initials of his alternate persona into the gift. Knowing that bit of information only made your heartbeat surge forward ten more times and you could feel yourself smiling without knowing. One thing about being with Namjoon was how easy it had become for you to smile... for you to laugh... for you to be happy. You had a newer outlook on life from the way he enriched yours. From the way he did little things (like this gift) to make you happy. Or the ways he would do his best to talk to you even when he was caught up with his busy schedule. You could go on...

You didn't want to compare your ex to Namjoon. You were too damn grown and been on this earth long enough to even let yourself think about who treated you better but if you really had to put some thought into it, you knew without a doubt, Namjoon was the perfect companion. Your ex just couldn't use his brain the way Namjoon could. You couldn't even blame him for it anyways.

Not everyone was Namjoon.

Not everyone was patient and kind. Not everyone was calm and careful.

Not everyone was cut out for love and you knew that.

And that's why you planned on never letting Namjoon go. You weren't going to push him away even when your brain told you that this was all too much. Your heart knew it wasn't enough. You wanted more of him. Wanted to see more of him. To feel more of him. To be around him every chance you got. You had the schoolgirl crush feelings all over again and it only took you five years to feel it all once more.

Maybe this feeling would fizzle out as your relationship grew. You hoped not.

Maybe as the storm of endearment you felt towards one another would calm, a stronger, tougher hurricane would brew between you both and maybe... just maybe, these feelings would stay permanent like a concrete house in a tornado.

"I would have noticed eventually." You countered with a playful edge to your voice, still standing on the stool because you wanted to enjoy the up close and personal look of Namjoon's face for just a bit longer, "At least when I miss you, I can look at it." You took another glance at the ornament swinging freely by your window, "Plus, I can feel the inspiration brewing just looking at it." You nodded to yourself, feeling him shift closer to where you stood until he was standing right in front of you, "Thank you, Nam." You whispered as he pressed just a bit closer until you felt your legs wobble on the stepstool from the proximity, your hands reaching to hold onto his shoulders to balance yourself.

Nam.

The simple, sweet nickname made butterflies begin to flutter in the pit of Namjoon's stomach. He didn't think such a normal name would have that effect on him but when it came to you, anything was possible.

"You don't have to say thank you." A smile started to pull up at the ends of his mouth, plush lips spreading into a playful grin, "Just a kiss would suffice." Namjoon chuckled with a soft laugh, hands sliding to rest perfectly around your waist as you gripped tight onto his strong, meaty shoulders.

"A kiss?" Your lips pursed at the mention of Namjoon's lips on your and you tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting as if you were hesitating, "Now you're being greedy." You murmured jokingly to him but leaned in anyways, quick fingers moving from his shoulders to cup under his jaw, holding his face tenderly within your hands as you brought him closer to you and closed the space between the two of you, your lips planting and pressing against his into a gentle, sweet kiss.

You could recall your first kiss with Namjoon in that moment. You were reminded of the delicious action shared on the night. With the taste of cigarettes and alcohol on his lips. The soft plush of his mouth on yours. Drinking you up as if you were his favorite sip of wine. This moment was much like the first but also different. For one, there wasn't the strong hint of smoke on his lips anymore. There wasn't the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins from being outside in the open air kissing a stranger anymore. There was a sense of familiarity behind the kiss. A fond feeling albeit the difference in mood and atmosphere.

He tasted like mint, cherries and the faintest hint of longing. Longing for you. Longing for this moment for seven months. You knew this much just by the way his eyes fluttered closed in expectance when the space between the two of you diminished. He didn't even hesitate to return the gesture either. Lips pressing back against yours confidently. Giving you a small peck and then before you could pull away, a pair of strong arms closed around your waist once more and his lips landed on yours once again, continuing the kiss.

Leaning into Namjoon's hold, you almost forgot you had been standing on a step stool this whole while. Not that it mattered much anyways when the grip that Namjoon had around your waist was tight enough that even if you fell into him, he would catch you anyways. You were safe in his arms. Secure. A feeling you had been craving for a while. You spent many times thinking of when you would get the moment to enjoy the way it felt being held by Namjoon again and now that you had it, you planned to bask in it. To marinate in it. To enjoy the feeling of being the only person in the world in the moment to share something like this with him.

"Noona." You heard Namjoon sigh against your lips before he continued the kiss and you hummed in response,

"Nam." You whispered into the kiss, lips slotted together in perfect formation for just a bit longer. The both of you relishing in perfect moment for a few more seconds before you began to pull away, breaking the kiss to look into the warm eyes of Kim Namjoon. Your gaze full of expectance and his own filled with nothing but a pure and gentleness fondness.

"I really did miss you." He confessed with a sigh, lips now slicked with your lip balm and swollen from the kisses, "I'm so happy to be here." Namjoon nodded earnestly, "To see your craft. Watch you work..." His eyes wandered around the workroom for a moment, hands moving from your waist to take your palms in his hands, the warmth of his skin radiating onto yours immediately as his thumbs brushed over the backs of your hands while he watched you,

"Watch me work?" You questioned with a tilt of your head, eyes widening slightly in realization.

"Yes." Namjoon inhaled a breath and nodded, "I'm ready to do that thing you wanted to do." He exclaimed with a triumphant nod, a hand at the hem of his shirt in readiness to take it off, "I'm ready."

Ready to do anything you asked him for.

[ ' ... ' ]

The curtains of your workspace were now closed and the door to your studio was locked shut. Leaving you and Namjoon to a trusting sense of privacy in your small workroom. You noticed the way he immediately calmed when you drew the blinds along the large bay window shut and then pulled the lavish curtains together to eliminate any natural light into the room. It was almost as though he felt calmer knowing that it was truly just the two of you alone now. Not like you hadn't been alone all this time before.

Namjoon had just spent the better part of his life always looking over his shoulder. Always checking to ensure he wasn't being followed. Wasn't being watched. He felt uneasy if he wasn't in complete privacy and lucky for him, you wanted just the same. You thrived being in complete solace. It was refreshing to know that Namjoon wasn't one to argue against the silence.

Now here the two of you were. In the dimly lit space of your studio. There was a flicker from the lightbulb off a dusty lamp you turned on to be used as your light source and then the warm light stabilized while you gathered a fresh paintbrush in your hand. 

The light illuminated the cream of Namjoon's sweater draped over a chair and his discarded bag swung along the back of the seat as well. The orange warmth of the lamp shone in the space you stood in, your shadow mirroring your movements against an empty wall as you prepared your paint mixes. Then you finally turned to face Namjoon who was sat perched on top of a table with a cloth canvas draped over it to ensure the task you were about to do would stay on said canvas and nowhere else,

"It's going to feel cold." You whispered, voice softened to a hushed murmured as you stood in front of Namjoon, feeling the tips of his fingers creeping up the sides of your waist, eager fingertips looping into the ties of the apron around your body because he couldn't keep his hands off you. He needed to touch you. Even if it was just like this. It was just something he found himself yearning to do when he had been away from you. And now that he was here, his yearning had become reality.

"Cold." He mumbled with a flinch when the brush in your hand touched his warm skin, "Feels good." Namjoon nodded, lips quirking into a smile as he quickly adjusted to the feeling of the smooth texture from the paint gliding onto his skin. His eyes were glued to your face while you stood between his thighs. Paintbrush in hand, palette in the other and nothing but the sounds of the brush moving along the wide of his chest.

"This is non toxic, right?" He joked with a shiver as he felt the coldness from the paint move from his chest to his neck.

"Of course." You answered simply with a smile, "Wouldn't want to hurt my human canvas."

When you told Namjoon you wanted to paint with him one night, he thought you meant sitting side by side together in your workroom in front of canvasses on an easel. He imagined what type of beautiful art you would create next to him while he managed to paint the easiest thing he could create on his own... stick figures holding hands or a forest scenery.

He didn't think you meant to paint with him by using him. To use his body as a canvas to make your art. To use him as your muse. To use his body to create something for your own possession.

Still, Namjoon was on board no matter what. How silly it was of him to think choosing him to use as your canvas would mean sitting alongside one another painting scenery on a canvas as if you were both in grade school. But when you learned that's what Namjoon believed you meant when you told him you wanted to paint with him, you loved the idea of painting your own pieces for each other. Interested to see what Namjoon could make for you and even going as far in suggesting to him that you scrap your idea and go with his. But Namjoon was already too intrigued by your first idea and more eager than you expected to allow him to be your canvas.

"Thank you for doing this." You mumbled, eyes glancing to Namjoon's gaze that had been affixed to your face since the moment you came close in proximity with him, "It's just an idea I've always wanted to do." A smile crossed your lips, "But I never had anyone fitting to my taste to try it on." A soft chuckle escaped your mouth that made Namjoon's stomach fill with butterflies,

He studied you for a moment. Watched the way you effortlessly mixed the paints you were working with to create the perfect color. Then he watched you delicately brush the paint along his skin, turning him into your own masterpiece, "Am I fitting to your taste?" He quirked a dark brow to which you nodded in response to, not bothering to answer him because the gesture of your nod was enough to please him,

"I read somewhere in your blog that you painted mostly with your hands." Namjoon hummed, too low for your liking. Too... provocative. It made your skin flush at the sound, "It said you enjoyed the raw feel of your skin on the canvas." He continued, the word raw dripped from his lips like butter and you had to turn your head to look at him with slight shock from the way the tone of his voice dripped like sweet honey.

He didn't need to say much more. Your eyes catching and gazes melting into each other's was enough.

You dropped the brush that you had been working with onto a tabletop in no time and dipped your fingertips into the palette you held, smearing the paint onto your fingers. Coating the color onto your hand and then without further hesitation, you had the same hand on Namjoon's bare skin, 

"You read too much." A snort came from you as your fingers dipped over every ridge and dip that formed along his muscular form, your body electrifying with static from the touch, "You know too much for your own good" You gave him a look but continued, "But you're right."

Yes, the man was right. You preferred to paint with your bare hands. It gave you a sense of satisfaction putting your own personal touch to your art. In this case though, you felt stupid and drunk with attraction simply from touching Namjoon,

"Well, I'm hardly ever wrong." Namjoon mused with smugness. Absolute confidence. The edge in his voice making him sound cocky. It was... sexy. 

"What else do you know about me?" You questioned him as you worked, paint smeared fingers moving free and fluid along the width of Namjoon's chest then moving downwards towards his abdomen, the digits of your fingertips moving over his ab muscles while Namjoon visibly shivered under your touch, his breathing hitching a bit in his throat as your fingers roamed lower. 

He tried to play it off the effect of your touch on him by exhaling a chuckle but it only came out shaky. Making a smirk twist along the side of your mouth as you focused, "I know your pet cat is your pride and joy." Namjoon's smile quirked, "Mr. Chewie." He nodded with a goofy grin,

"Do you want to meet my cat?"  You mused, placing the palette you had been holding down to dip your freehand into it again, now coating both hands with paint, "He doesn't bite." You started to moving more into your element. Head beginning to feel cloudy with focus (and desire) as you worked,

"Do you?" Namjoon suddenly asked, eyes trained intently on your face.

"Do I what?" You hummed unknowingly, eyebrows raising in question as your hands worked,

"Bite."

If the sexual tension wasn't high and rising like a triple grade tsunami then, it was for sure now. You could physically feel your stomach twist at the question. At the tone of Namjoon's voice. At the way you could feel his stare burning like a thousand suns into your face. Your hands on his torso slowly moved to his shoulders, palms resting onto the sturdy muscles as you looked into Namjoon's eyes, "Sounds like you want to find out." Your voice fell on its own to an intimidating yet sexy octave, making the man in front of you turn to goop before your very eyes.

...

"Holy fuck." You gasped out loud, jaw going slack and your gaze hazing above your very eyes. You had nowhere else to look but at the ceiling. Your vision searching for the unspoken words you wished to say as if they were written on the walls. Unfortunately, the walls of your studio didn't have words suitable enough for what you wanted to speak and thus you settled to say, "Fucking shit." Your teeth clenching together and eyes finally fluttering to a close.

Gripping for dear life onto either corner of your working table, your hands slipped periodically from the paint-soaked canvas under you. You managed to keep yourself sitting upright for this long but could feel yourself slipping further back into the paint covered canvas with every motion happening between your thighs.

How he had you in this spot was unknown to you. For crying out loud, it only started out with a kiss. Now you were sitting on top of the very canvas he had been sitting on just a minute ago. Only you were in a more compromised position now. Legs spread wide. Offering yourself to Namjoon. 

With your feet perched onto the ledge of it for support, distressed jeans hanging off one ankle and your panties pulled expertly to the side by a very skilled man. A strong, firm arm wrapped snug around the underside of your thigh. The other clutching the thin material of your underwear. He truly was in his element right now and yes, emphasis on the skilled because not only did Namjoon have a way with words but he sure had a way with his mouth too.

You had no choice but to submit yourself to him from the way he devoured you. Starving and hungry, he lapped and swirled his tongue along your clit. Mouthing over the sensitivity and making your entire body jerk, twitch and arch into him. If you weren't fighting so hard to keep yourself from falling backwards flat onto the table behind you, you would have loved to have your paint coated hands deep in the dark of his hair.

Too late. You truly didn't think you could hold yourself up any longer and when the tip of his tongue dipped into you. When he tasted you. When you listened to the near animalistic noise that rumbled out of his chest from the act, you folded instantly. Carelessly letting your arms drop, your back falling with a splat onto the table. The back of your head flopping onto the canvas. Back arching freely. 

Paint flew into the air from the contact of your body hitting the tabletop. Littering the neighboring wall and ground with droplets of deep greens, mahogany and browns. You could feel the back of your sweater coating with the paint. Soaking the material. Mixing with the colors as you arched up against Namjoon's mouth. Eyes rolling shut. Hands reaching above your head to hold tight to the table ledge once more as you felt your entire body get pulled to the very edge of the table by the strength of the man before you.

All you really could do was moan. Cry. Sob. Beg. Louder. Faster. More more more. Blubber to him how good he made you felt. Tell him how amazing he was. Plead with him not to stop. To keep the same pace. Just like that.

All you really could do is feel.

Feel his tongue moving languidly in and out of you. Feel his fingers pushing and squeezing into the softness of your inner thigh. Your breathing quickened. Turning from shallow breaths to full on gasps and whines. You trembled. Legs quaked, threatening to close around his head and crush him.

You managed to reach a paint coated hand between your thighs to grab a fistful of Namjoon's hair. The soft, black locks melted into the paint. Sections of his hair coloring with the dye of the paint as you pushed his head further into you. Pushed at the nape of his neck. The top of his head. Pushed until you felt more. Until you felt everything. Every sensitive, overpowering flow of pleasure. Every rush of adrenaline of what was occurring in your very own studio... on your very own worktable. Until you felt the imminent pulse of your orgasm reaching its highest point.

Never in your life were you this adventurous and... careless.

But with Namjoon... you could care less.

...

"I kind of like the apron on." Namjoon grunted, hands at your back to pull on the ties to your apron covering yourself. He undid the ties anyways and helped you tug it off from around your waist, that too was discarded quickly with fingers eagerly pulling at the hem of your shirt and beginning to tug it upwards next. But before he could even help you out of your shirt, your body landed carelessly into his paint smeared skin, lips crashing against his own into a mindless kiss.

Mindless because you didn't even take your shirt off. The apron would have helped to protect your clothes somehow but you couldn't care less. You knew a good trick to remove paint stains from your clothing anyways. This was nothing.

Funny for such a thought about your clothing to cross your mind when you were standing there naked from the waist down after Namjoon had just ravaged you.

There's a first for everything, right?

Pulling Namjoon by his throat, you tripped over the jeans stuck around your ankles as you kicked them off, one side of your sneaker slipping off at the same time but you didn't care. You had a hand clasped under his jaw, your lips clashing together into a messy kiss. Your nails sunk into the skin along his throat when you tasted the sweet tinge of yourself off his lips. It made you moan into the kiss. Made your head spin. Made your stomach clench with need.

Wild with the post orgasm euphoria flowing through your body, your head tilted for the kiss to deepen. Namjoon entertained your mouth with his until the impatience grew too strong to bare... until you felt quick hands pulling at your shirt in an attempt to get it off again, successfully lifting it by the hems to pull it over your head, ultimately breaking the kiss you didn't want to remove yourself from.

In a matter of seconds, you were shirtless. Your paint sopped shirt tossed carelessly to the other side of the room. Landing with a heavy, wet smack against a wall. The paint from your sweater slid down the wall. Coating it with the mix of colors. You didn't care for the mess. This was your workroom after all. A little fresh paint on the already paint splattered walls wouldn't make you bat an eye.

How could you bat an eye let alone blink when you were face to face with this... man. This whole entire man. You didn't want to blink. Didn't want to miss a second of not seeing Namjoon. A second spent blinking or taking a breath around him was too precious to waste.

Every moment you had spent away from his gentle touch gave you all the more reason to lean further into every caress he placed against your skin now when he pulled your body into his own, large hands roaming over your chest to cup and squeeze the outline of your breasts through your bra before he pulled the material down to massage over your bare flesh, his head dipping down to trail hot kisses from the front of your neck to the dips of your breasts, his mouth moving further to wrap his lips around your nipple. Sucking and dragging his tongue over the sensitivity before giving the same attention to the other.

He made your body practically arch into him before he pulled his head back and dragged you even closer to him, allowing you to get familiar feeling the true warmth of his skin. The beat of his heart against yours. The perfect fit of his body against your own.

The paint from Namjoon's skin you were painting on earlier had transferred onto yours and now the two of you were both covered in the viscous texture of the paint you had been working with. Body to body. Skin to skin. The feeling was unfathomable. The proximity you both shared mixed with the undeniable electricity between you both was truly the meaning of art.

Remember when Namjoon said he wanted to be a human before doing some art?

Well the true making of art was about to go down right now.

Namjoon was quick to switch your positions, and this was the moment that made you feel the true test to this man's strength. He had you pressed back into the table within seconds. Arms sliding around your waist and a freehand at the small of your back, the other grabbing you by the hip to twist you around and bend you over with a firm thud over the working table.

"Wait." You reached for Namjoon's arm when he twisted you around, "Condoms." You whispered, eyes on his own, silently pleading with hopes that he indeed carried some sort of protection on his person otherwise it would be a very.... awkward corner store run to grab some if he didn't.

"Fuck. Right. Condoms." Namjoon already had a hand at the waistband of his pants, ready to rip his clothes off and fuck you into oblivion but... alas...

"Responsibilities."

"Right." Namjoon exhaled, looking behind him towards his bag perched on the chair that felt extremely far away in the moment, "Responsibilities." He nodded and without hesitation, he pulled away, crossing to his backpack taking the biggest strides you've ever seen him take all the way across the room. You felt like laughing from the way he nearly ran to his bag to grab protection.

To all the fellow raw dog lovers out there, please don't get mad. You trusted Namjoon. You did. Deep within your soul, you felt an intangible connection to him. You knew he wasn't seeing anyone else. Wasn't sleeping with anyone else. And you knew he felt the same for you as well. You knew he trusted you too. But it was better to be safe than sorry. And at a point this fresh in your relationship, there wasn't time to be sorry about anything.

Crossing back to where you waited patiently, condom in hand, Namjoon gave you a mere second to gather yourself before he was reaching out and moving greedy hands up your hips to your waist, squeezing at your bare skin while he nudged your legs apart with his knee to make room for his wide frame to stand closer to you. The front of his pants pressing into your ass, making your back arch into his touch and your head lull backwards to rest against his shoulder,

"Are we really doing this?" He whispered against the side of your head, and you turned your gaze to look up at him, hearing the tear of the condom wrapper rip open. Your eyes were glazed with desire as you stared at Namjun. Like a dog seeing its owner dangle a piece of meat in front of them.

"Yes." You answered at once, lips brushing against his when you spoke, hands gripping the ledge of the table and feeling him trap his body against yours, wedging you between him and the tabletop, "I want you." You confessed, watching Namjoon's jaw clench from your response, his large hand reaching up to cup your face with his own paint smeared palm,

He leaned in to kiss you once more and you exhaled into his mouth, drinking his lips up. Letting him quench your thirst with his mouth, "I want you. Right here." You spoke between kisses, moving one hand from your clutch on the table to grab onto Namjoon's wrist, your nails pushing into his skin as the demon inside of your ovaries spoke for you, "Right now." You continued, letting go of his wrist and bending down over the table more confidently, cheek pressing into the canvas, the deep green paint on the canvas smearing against the skin of your face.

"Please, Nam..." You took a breath, shallow and labored, "Hurry." You braced yourself with anticipation, watching the way he thumbed the waistband of his pants, pulling them down just a bit to reveal the smooth of his pelvis and a faint v-line leading to the package under his pants.

You fought yourself to keep your eyes on him as he pulled his pants down just enough for his cock to spring proudly out of his underwear. You almost forgot just how big he was. Having been without him for months, the sight of his length made your mouth twinge with saliva. Memories of that first night you spent with him flood your vision behind your eyes. The feel of his girth stretching you apart and his length hitting every angle with ease. The way his length curved perfectly when he was inside you. As if he used his dick to touch your very soul.

Who would have thought you would be as dick hungry as you were but again, Namjoon wasn't like other men. He made you stupid with lust. Stupid with... feeling.

And then you couldn't watch anymore, the feeling that you were about to combust taking over you and making your head lower against the table once again, your cheek carelessly rubbing against the paint smeared canvas, letting the paint cool your skin as you listened to him pinch and roll the condom onto his length, "Please..." You whispered your plea, cheeks burning with desire (and shame) but you could care less,

Something in the air shifted when you felt Namjoon close in on your space like a predator catching their prey. Like a lion closing in on its lamb. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt a rough hand grip onto your waist, making your ass raise higher in the air until you were on your tip toes, your body sliding over the painted canvas fluidly as the tip of his cock lined up against your entrance that begged for him to enter you,

"O—Oh." Your eyes clenched shut and squeezed tight as the stretch of his girth pushed into you at once. Your chest pressed tight into the canvas below you, forehead dropping with a thud against the hardwood of your working table. Heels of your feet planting firm down onto the floor to keep your balance. Hands gripping tight onto the strong, wood table while a pair of hands belonging to Kim Namjoon gripped tighter against your waist from behind.

How you ended up in this compromised position was unbeknownst to you. One second you were slathering paint onto your beefy partner. The next you were caught in a steamy make out session. Another moment later, he was eating you out until you saw stars and then you were shirtless, the straps and buckle to your bra unhooked from your body and tossed into a careless pile of belongings on the floor.

And next... finally... your paint palette and tools were cast aside with a rough shove. Clattering to the ground in a noisy fashion as Namjoon grabbed you by the elbow and spun you around to bend over the exact table you had been working on. Your bare, paint smeared chest pressing into the large tarp canvas below you. The canvas was laid out for other purposes. Acting as a cover for the expensive hardwood tabletop you worked on for decades. Now serving as a useless piece of furniture for your man to fuck you against.

"Fuck." You heard Namjoon's voice rumble behind you as he pushed all the way into you, eliciting a gasp from your lips. A loud one. Your eyes clenching shut at the deep angle of his length filling you up entirely. You panted for air. Struggled to catch your breath because no matter which way you moved; you felt every inch of him.

You took a moment to adjust to him. Adjust to his size. Adjust to the sensations tingling all over your body. With your ass in the air for him to feast upon you with his hungry eyes. The thick girth of his length pushing into the sopping mess that you were. Swallowing him up. Wrapping around him and giving him life. Inviting him into you like he was made for you. It was overwhelming... this feeling. But you loved it. And not long after, you pushed back against him. Indicating to him that it was time to move.

Your plan at the start was to cover Namjoon in paint and use his body as your canvas to paint a piece of scenery you had been dreaming of painting since the night you met him. The concept of the art was supposed to be a flower field. Filled and blooming with lilac petals and brush greenery. Your plan was to then add real, dried flowers to Namjoon's painted skin. Depicting realism with the flowers against the gorgeous, tanned skin.

Not all plans fall through. But damn, you would have never thought it would go the opposite way so quickly. And something told you that in this lifetime with Namjoon, you would have many opportunities to paint flowers on him another time.

You heard Namjoon in your ear the entire time he thrusted in you. Listened to the way he praised you. The way he adored you. Telling how good it felt to be inside you. How well you took him. Thrust after thrust. Stroke after stroke. He never got tired. Never got wary.

"You're perfect." He would tell you between thrusts, "So fuckin' perfect." He would add, making goosebumps line your skin because he wasn't lying. You were perfect. Perfect to him. Perfect for him. "So fucking pretty." He grunted, a hand pressing into your lower back, making you arch higher for him until you were basically letting him you to his disposal, allowing for him to thrust into you until he felt his stomach pool with heat.

You begged for him to continue. Asked him to pull your hair which he reached for and grabbed with a fistful. A strong fist burying into your locks to give it a nice, hard pull. Making your head yank back. Making your vision blur with pain and pleasure.

And after each unrelenting thrust, your breathing began to accelerate. Heart rate began to increase. He hit the same spot over and over. Until you saw the galaxy behind your closed eyes. Until the canvas below your body was painted by your skin. Creating a mix of colors resembling a forest scenery without you even knowing. Until you both were hitting highs together. As one. Feeling the universe connect you both in ways that went beyond flesh and blood. In ways that were spiritual. Soul binding. Heart connecting. Having an orgasm was one thing. But achieving it together? It was otherworldly.

And you both did it together.

...

[ "Doors will be closing. Please do not block the doorways. Your safety is our priority. Thank you for riding with The Washington Metro." ]

"Bit crowded today." You mumbled under your breath as you and Namjoon boarded the busy train, your balance stumbling immediately as the subway began to move the moment you entered through the doors. Luckily, Namjoon had a strong hand around your forearm in no time, holding you upright from falling into the pile of strangers on the subway and spinning you around to face him as he extended a long limb to grab onto the supportive hanging strap dangling from way above your heads, your height too short for reach but perfect for Namjoon to hold,

"Careful now." He hummed out low, guiding you into his side as he held on tight to the hanging strap of the subway.

"Oh.. hi." You whispered as you stumbled into his chest, the two of you facing each other while you stood in the middle of the crowded train, your hand gripping tight into the material of his sweater, face hiding in embarrassment from your stumble.

You've lived here for how many years? Rode the subway for how many? You've never lost your balance before. Either Namjoon had you giddy or--

"Legs feeling like jelly?"  He questioned with a charismatic purr; his voice hushed low just for you to hear.

Yeah, that's the one.

"Just a bit." You teased, a small laugh leaving your lips when the brim of Namjoon's baseball cap nudged you in the forehead as he dipped his head when he chuckled, "No complaints here though." You nodded blissfully, almost swaying from side to side with the post-coital glow radiating through you from the inside out.

Slowly, the subway cleared out as the two of you neared closer and closer to your stop. You always enjoyed taking the subway. Not because you couldn't drive but because it was peaceful almost. To be amongst different people each day. Everyone on the subway cart had a story. A meaning to be here in this world. Sure, it was a bit dangerous at times when the fights would break out in the middle of line changes amongst people. Or when you were unfortunately sitting across from a creep trying to get a look into your shirt or up your skirt.

Still, you took the trains to and from work. Everyday. Basking in the realness of your city. Relishing in the norm of your day to day whether it be with a novel or a sketchbook in hand.

Today was special though. Today you were riding the same path you took home with Namjoon. Taking him to your home. Taking him further into your life. Letting him meet Mr. Chewie because yes, you weren't joking when you invited him over to meet your cat and because yes, you told Namjoon not to book himself a hotel for his stay. You were ready to invite him into your home. Ready to let him stay with you even if it was just for a few nights.

Did I mention when Namjoon's stay was over in your city, you would be heading back to Korea with him? Not in his suitcase as he would hope, but with him. Together.

You haven't told him yet.

It's a secret... for now.

Finally scoring seats once the subway was practically empty, your knee nudged Namjoon's as you sat side by side in a corner of the train. Setting your bag over your lap with the painted tarp canvas Namjoon and you created rolled up neatly into a cylinder so that you could take it home and dry it in the privacy of your apartment's living room. 

Your pinkies were intertwined together. Legs touching. Arms pressed together. With your head laid comfortably on Namjoon's mountainous shoulder and his eyes on the outside of the train, admiring the leaves beginning to change color outdoors.

It was autumn. The earth's axis was tilting towards winter now. The ethylene and auxin from the leaves that were once green and plush had begun their descent to the ground. Changing from yellow to orange and drifting to anywhere the earth would accept them as the wind blew. Saying thank you and goodbye to mother earth. From once serving a purpose as a shady spot to hide under in the sweltering summers to now bidding farewell to the trees to allow them to prepare for winter.

It was beautiful. The weather. This city. You. The season reminded Namjoon of his feelings for you. How tender, raw and real his heart was for you. How precious the emotions he kept hidden deep within his soul were. How completely electrifying you made him feel. How far he wanted to swim in the ocean for you. How deep his affection went beyond borders.

Beyond languages. Beyond cultures. Beyond... everything.

As he sat there feeling the melancholy thump within his heart, you shifted next to him and sat upright, eyes stealing a glance of Namjoon's covered face with a small smile breaking out across your lips,

"You got a little something-" You peeked up at his face concealed by the baseball hat he was wearing, motioning with your freehand to his jaw, "Here." You pointed out the paint that was dried on his skin, your laughter increasing, "You missed a spot when cleaning up." You watched the way his dimpled smile twitched then spread into a familiar, warm grin. His eyes crinkling to soft crescents as he felt over his jaw with his freehand,

Namjoon chuckled when he felt the paint on his face, his head shaking in disbelief as he tried to peel it away, "I thought I caught all of it." He snorted, "That's what happens when all you have to clean up with in your studio is baby wipes and water." He noted, eyes landing on a large patch of dried up paint that was caked onto the leg of your pants, "You didn't do a good job either." He added, fingers tapping along the flaking paint on your clothes.

"I didn't think we'd be getting.... dirty like that. Otherwise, I would have brought a change of clothes..." Your gaze drifted to Namjoon's fingertips roaming over your thigh, "...and installed a shower in the studio too." You added the last part with a soft huff and tried to sound nonchalant, but Namjoon's disbelieving laugh made you sink into the seat with a flush tainting your skin, "Our stop is next." You changed the subject, bumping a still laughing Namjoon playfully with your shoulder as you began to rise out of your seat just as the intercom announced your stop,

[ "The next station is Wildflower station. Your exit will be on the right. Please collect your belongings before leaving the subway. Thank you for riding with The Washington Metro." ] 

...

Now in the comfort of your home, you could feel the drastic change in the atmosphere from how it usually was. Your home was a space that was foreign to you. A place that grew colder as the years went by. And a place you had become accustomed to use just as a space to lay your head to rest at night... if you even felt like coming home. The primary reason why you forced yourself to come home every night was to feed your cat and give him some love. If it weren't for precious Mr. Chewie, this place would be up for sale and you would be living out of your studio in comfort.

However now that you were home. Freshly showered and standing in the middle of your living room. Hair dampened at the ends. Feet stuffed into soft, fuzzy socks. And body wrapped up in a cocoon of a robe. You truly felt at home for the first time in a very long time. Being here with Namjoon felt like home. With the way he invited himself into your space. The way he greeted your cat. The way he unpacked his belongings in the spare drawer you left empty for him in your bedroom. And from the way he shuffled around the rooms with ease. Footsteps light and airy and.... Homely. As if he wasn't afraid to make himself comfortable. He wasn't afraid to be himself around you. Even in your own home.

He didn't have much that he carried with him when you watched him discard his belongings from his bag. Namjoon didn't care to pack heavy and only brought the necessities along with him. Figuring that if he truly needed something, he would venture out and buy it because he had money to do so. But he made use of the drawer you had emptied for him anyways. Setting his clothing neatly into it and commenting that by the end of his stay, the drawer would be a mess of disheveled clothes tossed into it. Hinting to you that he was a rather messy person – which you didn't mind because you too were chaotically unorganized in your own home. 

You observed him even as he set his personal items down meticulously on top of the dresser. Cologne. Lighter. Marlboro slim ice blasts. Phone and wallet. Patek Phillipe watch. Glasses. He truly was a very classy man. Expensive taste. Sexy.

It wasn't the fact that he welcomed himself into your home as if he lived there with you his whole life. It was the fact that he did it so easily. As if he was meant to be there. Meant to be with you. Meant to befriend Mr. Chewie who wasn't very accustomed to strangers or Namjoon but still managed to warm up to him anyways. Purring deep in his chest when Namjoon scratched behind his ears and even rubbing his cute little kitty cat cheek up against his leg to show Namjoon his appreciation. Typically, Mr. Chewie would duck and hide in the bathroom whenever guests came over. Having him easily warm up to Namjoon was the true test that sealed your fate together.

Deep down, some part of you believed that yes, Namjoon was meant to be here. He was meant to be with you. But in the back of your mind. Where you hid the dark thoughts, the nagging demon in your head told you that he shouldn't be there. That you should be alone. The way you always were. The way you always thrived.

But when you and Namjoon were sitting on the floor of your balcony outside your apartment, your eyes gazing up at the night sky and his own on your face. Taking in the unique ethereal features of your beauty... you knew there was no where else you would want to be. You knew there was no one else you wanted to be with.

"You see when the stars align like this... it makes being next to you feel worth the while. The distance feels worth the while. Time feels worth it. When I get to sit next to you this way... looking up at the stars... it all feels worth it. Just being with you feels worth it. As if I accomplished something good." Namjoon whispered, fingers reaching out and finding your hand in the darkness of the balcony, tips of his fingers tracing along your palm before sliding his fingers through yours to twine them together,

Listening to the gentle hum of Namjoon's voice, you flicked the end of your cigarette into an ashtray shared between the two of you and wrapped your lips around the filtered part of it, drawing the smoke into your mouth and inhaling it deep into your lungs before blowing it out above your head. 

"Sounds like I'm your reward." You breathed out into the crisp night air, gaze finding Namjoon's who had his own cig in his mouth, sucking in the earthy taste of the cigarette and letting the addictive nicotine fumes shoot through his system. Making him feel euphoric, awake and alive all at once.

"I'd like to think of it as so." Namjoon turned his face away from you as he blew the smoke out of his lips, a deep rumble in his chest making its way out of his mouth in the form of a chuckle, "I did a lot of good in my life without reward. Without compensation." He shook his head, cigarette flicking, "I'd like to think you're the good the universe has been making me wait for." Namjoon gave you a cheesy smile, hand unlinking from yours to free his fingertips so that he could reach up and trace them over your cheek bone, feeling the soft of your skin line with heat as you blushed under his touch, "You make me feel things I've never felt before." He confessed, eyes on your face to hold your gaze.

"You know... I was... not myself a while ago." You leaned into Namjoon's touch before turning away, lips back at your cigarette to finish it, "I tried to do something scary." You whispered as you blew the smoke out, crushing the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, "I didn't mean to do it but when I woke up again. I knew I died. But... I didn't expect dying would feel so... lonely. So... dark." You shook your head quickly, "I thought I would feel peaceful. I thought it would see a light. Or see the last moments of my life replaying in front of me but I didn't. I just saw blackness and felt myself slipping into nothingness." You continued, jaw clenching as if you were feeling the pain of dying all over again,

"When I recovered, I vowed to myself to never let myself slip that far again. To think that... everything could have ended. To think that I was so sad that I just... didn't want to exist anymore..." You scoffed, "Sounds kind of ridiculous now that I'm here with you. I don't think I would have regretted a thing but now that someone like you... someone so... good is in my life... I don't ever want to spend another minute of my life second guessing anything again." Your voice trailed off with the last part, lips pressing together quickly before you looked over towards the man next to you and smiled, "Hey, Kim Namjun. I think you might be the one that saved me." You confessed with a laugh, leaving Namjoon shocked into a comfortable silence.

...

The empty side of your bed sunk with Namjoon's weight as he lowered himself onto the softness of the mattress, his body immediately turning to face you in the darkness. You could feel the heat of his bare skin pressed into your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist from behind, sliding you closer to him so that he could be the big spoon, 

"You have a comfortable bed." He commented with a soft groan, eyes closing with peace before he rubbed his nose over your hair, letting it tickle his face before he sighed, the warmth of his breath fanning the nape of your neck. His lips pressed onto your flesh, kissing the back of your neck gently before he hugged you tight. Body to body. Warmth to warmth. Soul to soul.

Part of you longed for the days to finally have another person in your bed. To share the proximity of another human that valued you. Who would have thought Namjoon was the person that made all those lonely nights disappear completely. All those days where you cried yourself to sleep in this exact pillow. Where you curled yourself into a ball and prayed the morning wouldn't come. Now that you were lying in bed with him hugging tight around your waist like this. Your legs tangled together under the soft duvet covering your body. With Mr. Chewie quietly grooming his paws at your feet. It all felt so right. It all felt so normal.

"Do you like pancakes?" You suddenly asked into the quiet darkness of the room, feeling Namjoon shift from behind you as he hummed in thought,

"I love pancakes." He exhaled a soft laugh, gentle fingers played with the waist of your pajama pants before his hand slipped into the band of it for his hand to find warmth along your thigh that was clothed by your pants. You didn't mind that he was literally under your clothes right now. Hand roaming comfortably over every dip and curve of your body had, "Why?" He questioned, voice growing deep with exhaustion taking over him,

You found Namjoon's hand wandering along your bare skin and you took hold of it. Keeping the playful fingers locked within your grasp and lacing your fingers together for a moment before letting go, "Just thinking about what I want to make you for breakfast in the morning." You yawned softly, snuggling comfortably into your pillow, letting Namjoon settle to rest his hand right over the hem of your panties to fidget with the material.

You asked him about pancakes so casually that Namjoon couldn't ignore his heart skipping a beat within his chest. Another soft kiss of appreciation pressed against your shoulder as a silent thank you from Namjoon even though he knew he would be up bright and early in the morning to beat you to the task. He wasn't the best cook. But for you, he would try.

It didn't take long for the room to still. The hum of traffic outside your window serving as white noise and creating a gentle lullaby for you both. You were drifting to sleep now. Finding your eyes get heavier the more you tried to fight sleep off. 

Namjoon had long gone quiet himself and you assumed that he too had fallen asleep but instead, he was wide awake, heart thumping wildly in his chest as he fought himself over if he should say what was on his mind. With a sleepy sigh, Namjoon peeked over to your seemingly asleep form and he finally whispered,

"I think I'm in love with you." He whispered quietly, "I think I really love you."

You heard him speak and kept your eyes closed, feeling your heart completely lose all of its normal rhythmic beating and instead, stumbling and skipping an entire beat. His words echoed in your head. Made your temples pulse. Made your stomach dip, flip and trip within your body. 

He loves you. He said it. 

Not wanting to make him embarrassed if he knew you were awake the entire time. You waited in silence as Namjoon settled once again. This time, hearing a gentle snore leaving his lips after a few minutes to confirm that he had finally fallen asleep.

Slowly but surely, you rolled over onto your side. Careful that you didn't wake him as you faced Namjoon. He was asleep for sure as your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, allowing for the moonlight to shine into the bedroom and help you see. His eyes were closed peacefully. Lips tufting air out of them as he exhaled quiet snores. Long eyelashes fluttering every now and then as he dreamed. Skin smooth and free of any worry. 

Watching Namjoon sleep brought a strange feeling into your heart. A certain calmness. Happiness. He was beautiful. And you... loved him too.

You shifted just a bit closer and pressed a faint kiss to Namjoon's forehead, your eyes closing as you relished in the tender moment before you whispered to him,

"I think I love you too."

As quick as Namjoon fell, you fell harder. Landing on your knees with a broken heart in front of a man that would change your life one day in so many ways. You didn't know this now but fighting to live would be one of the greatest tragedies you ever conquered.

I'll show you a look into your future...

In a few years from now, Namjoon's enlistment would finish and together, the two of you would open your own galleries. Starting in the same building he once had your Arduos piece showcasing in then slowly growing too large to accommodate the plenty of people coming from near and far to see the space.

You would continue to paint. Would continue to hold auctions. You delved deep into your craft with the encouragement from Namjoon and soon enough, you would be so booked and busy that you would need two assistants. Your assistant and best friend would get the raise she deserved. You would be invited to visit different countries to showcase your work. Many times having to decline invitations because you couldn't keep up with the demand for your work. That's when you would decide to slow down and take it easy. Choosing to create art at your own pace. 

After some more time, you and Namjoon both would then decide to fund and build the National Art Gallery of Ilsan. The city Namjoon grew up in. Fans would flock to visit and it would become a spectacle of the city that would help generate millions in growth for the economy. 

There would be more money raking in than you could even imagine and together, you both would open a foundation that would help the less fortunate. Giving them jobs and assistance that would change their lives. You would both deeply believed in giving back to your communities. And that you did. Helping to save historic relics from being left in desolation with donations. And then the next center you would open would be a animal shelter. Saving two legged and four legged animals alike to give them a better life. Naming it after your beloved Mr. Chewie. 

Together, you would make a difference.

Namjoon would continue to tour with BTS, of course. And they would make history as a group together. They would continue to be best friends for years to come and more. Welcoming you into their lives and forming a bond with you that would be unbreakable.

And then finally one day, another year later, on a long walk along the hillside in the quiet mountains of Ilsandong-gu, Namjoon would drop down to one knee while you turned around at marveled at the horizons. He would ask you to marry him. And with tears in your eyes, you would say yes. A million times yes.

That was just a glimpse into your future.

There was much more yet to come because you stayed.

Because you lived and because you loved.

The end.

____

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading! 

....

A/N - i truly never thought i would fall in love with a story the way i did with this one and i have to say thank you to mrs. kim namjoon herself for pitching the idea to me <3 thank you for believing in me and i hope you enjoyed this short, sweet story <3