LATTE TALK • yoonseok • #WattPride

☕ vingt huit ☕

He brushes the clingy, white snowflakes off his hair as he enters the apartment lobby after saying his goodnights to the limping Yoongi. A caring part of Hoseok's rational mind thanks the lord above for not making the pavements sloppy with the slushy ice that had been the scene for the past few days. The smile that had slowly crept up on his face when he had started sipping his café latte, had stayed, and now as he climbs up the rickety elevator, Hoseok realizes he is having a difficult time wiping the smile off his face.

The key glides into the lock and he turns the knob—

"Yah, Joon-ah, you shouldn't have done that!" His breathe comes out in harsh puffs; he had never expected Namjoon to be this close to the door, sitting on his bottom, and when he had opened the door, his wits left him as the door hit Namjoon on his face. His boyfriend now sits, wincing at the pain that dominates his nose as Hoseok runs to the kitchen, flinging open the fridge door for the ice pack and returning even faster.

"Oh my god, why were you sitting at the doorstep? Let me see that." He pries the fingers away from Namjoon's stoic face, the nose a dull red in color from the hit. The cold pack, surprisingly, does not make him wince and a minute after cooing and tending to the swelling, Hoseok realizes Namjoon has not uttered a word throughout.

"Joon? Why were you sitting at the doorstep?" His voice is soft and soothing; beckoning Namjoon to let go of his asudden grudge and melt in his boyfriend's warm embrace.

"I... I was waiting for you." The reply is blunt and Hoseok's brows furrow in worry.

"Okay... but why at the door?" Hoseok knows the silent Namjoon, the one who would greet him curtly and not let his emotion show for days. He knows the bubbly Namjoon, the one who would shower Hoseok with unexplainable amount of love and kisses and embraces. He even knows the hurt Namjoon, the one that drowns himself in his work and cries into Hoseok's shoulder at the dead of the night. But Hoseok does not know this Namjoon, the one who speaks neither with his voice, nor with his sudden, icy eyes.

And, oh, how Hoseok is alarmed by this.

"Seok-ah?" Namjoon mutters after a long, long moment. Hoseok has his head buried in the crook his neck, where the younger's hot breathe fans out over the expanse of honey-milk skin, and this only manages to work his nerves up more. But he knows he needs to know what the fuck is wrong, so he urges a comforting smile on his face and hums in response.

"Was it Yoongi today?"

And the redhead stiffens against the other boy, his hands stopping their motion against Namjoon's arm. A heavy second storms over before Hoseok replies, forcibly chuckling to calm his erratic nerves.

"About why my shift ended two hours later than it should? Yeah, that nutcase asked me sit down for a coffee with him, and I decided, since the house is empty at this time, I could spend some time socializing." There is the pointed hurt in his voice, raging the clouds and asking Namjoon questions that he should fucking ask already but he can't, he can't because he is afraid of the answers lingering behind the thick, ugly veil of ignorance.

"Are you angry at me that I was not home early the last few days?"

Hoseok needs to fucking hit his head already and tell him, no, he is not ma—

"Yeah. I am pissed at you, Kim Namjoon." Namjoon expects stern lips and stoic eyes, yet he still feels the despair stirring within him when Hoseok delivers him exactly that.

"Why are doing this, Joon? You never tell me anymore what's wrong."

And, oh, how Namjoon feels his bones weakening as he realizes he needs to tell Hoseok everything and lose him along the way.

Min fucking Yoongi. God, how much I hate you at this moment.

Namjoon squares his shoulder up, his lips part as he is about to utter th—

brr, brr.

Their eyes, collectively land on Hoseok's phone softly buzzing against the fabric of the living room couch and Hoseok turns his head away—

"Pick it up."

"But you are more impo—,"

"We can talk all night, you know? It's probably Jimin and I know how persistent he can get," Namjoon chuckles as he pulls away from Hoseok and lets his hand rest his boyfriend's ankle, drawing soft circles on the skin exposed between the cuff of the pants and the socks. Hoseok grabs the phone and brings it between them, and from the upside down view he notices an unknown number. He briefly wonders which insurance company is trying to get hold of them when, on cue, a text dings through and the screen lights up with renewed vigour.

9:10 p.m. unknown number:

it was really nice talking to you, hoseok. 😊

author's note: u n e d i t e d and okay, okay, I know I said I won't update, but my head is not being the studious one it should be, so yeah, I am currently going to fail my economics exams on Thursday. goodnight.