Uncle Namjoon

Brat! (CH 20)

A/N: Maybe we need some drama here muaahah *evil laugh*

As the guests left one by one, Namjoon sensed a lingering dimness in the atmosphere of the after-party. For him, this phase often meant facing the reality of his loneliness once the people in his life departed. Yet, amid this feeling, he also appreciated the silence. While Seokjin and his kids were always greeted warmly within his four walls – and he meant it – they really were welcome all the time, he still couldn't overlook how his twins had a whole sound-system up their throats. Once they were walking in his home, silence would be a sweet dream and history.

Hoseok had picked up the decorations from the walls with him and collected the reusable stuff into a box, telling Namjoon to reuse them next year too. Namjoon laughed at his comments because the times of Namjoon being on a tight budget were gone long ago, but he still appreciated Hoseok's thought.
"Thank you. I would still be cleaning up right now if you wouldn't help me." Namjoon squeezed Hoseok's shoulder on his way to leave. Hoseok was a sweetheart. If not for his bad language and gruesome pranks, Namjoon would call him an angel.

"Also... Hoseok..." Namjoon said restlessly, stopping his friend from handling the doorknob to leave. He wanted to open a topic that lingered in his mind since he spoke to Seokjin and Yoongi.

"Do you realize that you've been using quite a few... uh, strong words?" He wasn't sure how much he could accuse Hoseok of something that Namjoon occasionally does himself too.
Hoseok's eyebrows furrowed, not fully understanding Namjoon's point.
"What the fuck do you mean?"
"I mean... this... exactly this. You keep dropping f-bombs, cursing left and right, but time and things have changed now, kids now surround us all the time. To me, it doesn't matter that much, but Seokjin wasn't a fan of hearing it." He tried to be honest to his friend, who nodded along.
"Shit, really?" He was genuinely surprised, and Namjoon directly stared into his eyes as he nodded, waiting for him to realize that he casually added the word 'shit' again.
"Guess you're right." He noticed and facepalmed himself.
"So, please... just try to reduce that. I don't want to control your language, but I think the children are in that phase where they pick every word and keep repeating them." Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, repeating what Seokjin and Yoongi told him a few hours ago.
"Oh, crap, it's a habit and...- oh fuck, I just said crap, I think that's also not- wait, did I just say fuck? I didn't mean to say that, shit- WAIT, no I worded that wrong again- AAH I can't stop it!" He managed to make Namjoon laugh for a solid minute, that guy must have really swallowed a cursing-words-dictionary, because he just couldn't stop using them.
"Okay, my bad. I think I'm so used to it, that they just slip out without me even noticing." It really became a part of his daily vocabulary without him even realizing how much he used them. Apparently, nobody was bothered by it either, because the people around him were never warning him either.

"Just tone it down a bit around the kids, buddy." Namjoon remarked as he tied the last trash bag and let it aside for Hoseok to carry them outside when he left.
"Okay, I will try my best, but can't promise anything though, old habits and all that, you know."
Namjoon patted him on the shoulder, giving him an affirming look, already appreciating that Hoseok would be more careful now. Hoseok proved to Namjoon in many ways that his heart was golden unlike his tongue and Namjoon knew very well that Hoseok had a dirty mouth, but not a dirty soul, hence he had him as his best friend by his side.

Once he left, Namjoon checked up on his nephew, who was sleeping soundly in his own room, and had crashed on the bed. He covered him with a blanket and eyed the dishes in the sink with a rough sigh. It was already a rough evening, even if Hoseok helped him clean up a bit, Namjoon still had piles of dishes to wash. He basically ran into his room and fainted into the covers of his bed as soon as he hit the pillow with his head, just like his nephew. The dishes could wait one night...