커피 | Namjoon x Male!Reader | RM BTS

9 - Rumour

The rumours didn't irk you per say, but it was the reactions to them that stung. You knew Korea was a conservative country, you would be a fool for not knowing that, but it didn't mean the homophobia hurt any less.

You knew you and Namjoon should have been more careful when it came to how public you both were, and it wasn't as if that kiss was the most public thing in the world. In reality, it was supposed to be an extremely personal and private moment between the two of you. But for some reason, paparazzi had managed to take pictures of your intimate moment. Luckily, it didn't capture you two kissing, which was a god send at this point, and you couldn't entirely see your face. You just hoped no one at your work would recognise you.

Namjoon had assured you that his management would handle it, and this would all blow over soon enough. It reassured you a little, but not enough to out the nagging fear out of your mind. You knew there was a chance you could lose your job because of this. And for what? Loving someone? It was entirely absurd, but you knew things would be extremely different when you moved here, this was no United Kingdom when it came to LGBTQ+ rights.

Eventually, while he was in America doing yet another promotional tour for the new album that had come out (which you were insanely proud of, you couldn't even put it into words), BigHit put out official statement dispelling any rumours of you two dating, and simply put it down to you being close friends that hadn't seen each other for a long time.

Although the situation seemed to be handled, the questions seemed to just keep on flooding in. Who were you? How did you and Namjoon meet? Where were you from? Why were you at BigHit that day? The list went on, and it was giving you a headache. It didn't help that you didn't have him with you to support you. Of course, you had messaging and FaceTime, but it was never going to be the same as actually seeing him and feeling him in your arms.

Your relationship still wasn't defined. You tried to bring up the topic once or twice but bit your tongue because if he wanted it to be defined he would take the first steps. You were okay with, well, whatever this was, as long as you had him in your life. The more you talked and the more you learned about the man, the more you could feel yourself falling for him.

You were hesitant to let yourself fall deeply because it would most likely end in tears, him being an idol and all, but you just couldn't help it. Every time he let you have a peek inside of his mind, it just swept you off your feet more.

The last time you saw each other was the day before his flight to Los Angeles. It was peaceful and just the two of you in your apartment again. You knew this would be goodbye for a couple of months, but you had come to terms with that in your own time. His career was the most important thing for him, and you respected his commitment to that above anything else. It didn't mean you wouldn't miss that smile of his though.

The kiss he left you with as he went back to the dormitories to pack his bags was bittersweet. It would be at least three months before he would return back to Korea and this would the last physical contact you would have for a quarter of a year.

In the coming weeks you had steeled yourself in your longing for him. Watching interviews of him and seeing those educated eyes give response after response, translating for his fellow band members, made your heart ache. You wished you could be there with him.

Time zones didn't help much either. You were at least sixteen hours ahead of him when he was in Los Angeles and as he moved towards the east coast, the time difference may have lessened, but the difficulty in having conversations didn't.

Your talking most often ended up in writing essays on how your day was, how you were feeling, what was going on, while the other slept. It was difficult, but you could manage. They say absence makes the heart grows fonder, but your heart just hurt from how much you missed him every day.