「Hoseok is determined to escape his fate. Namjoon just wants to be loved.」
Or, in which Hoseok dreams of being a dancer and standing on his own feet but is being tied down by a marriage contract to a man he hates.
Or so he thought.
Featuring woke yo...
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"Be good," his mother had muttered before knocking.
Jung Hoseok narrowed his eyes at the mahogany door adorned with the number 65 neatly curved in a silvery metal. He puffed his cheeks out and tapped his foot impatiently in his newly bought channel shoes- because apparently, sneakers weren't good enough for the man behind these doors.
A faint and low "coming" was heard before footsteps followed. There was some fumbling behind the door before suddenly- a pause.
A shriek resonated and Hoseok shared a look of confusion with his mother.
When the door had finally opened (after a lot of muffled curses) , Kim Namjoon presented himself before them in all of his morning gloriousness- hair sticking in every directions, shirt crumpled and shorts on. His lips were pressed in a thin line and a faint rosy hue dusted his cheeks.
"Hoseok, Mrs Jung. Good morning," he petted down his hair -soft and fluffy and no more silver, but rather pink (and Hoseok swore he was not jealous of how every hair color seems to work on him flawlessly).
"Good morning, young man," his mother smiled, a small glint of amusement in her eyes. She motioned to her hair and chuckled, "What an interesting change of colour."
Namjoon's eyebrows furrowed together before his eyes grew slightly wider and a sly smile spread to his lips.
"Ah yes, pink is a lovely color, isn't it?"
"It sure is,"muttered Hoseok with a hint of disdain.
Namjoon cleared his throat awkwardly and looked between the pair as if he was trying to put together an intricate puzzle (probably as to why they had shown up earlier than the time appointed) and the older man had to stop himself from telling the other to quit munching his bottom lips.
"I do not mean to offend you but is there something going on I am not aware of?"
"Ah, Namjoon-ah, I'm sorry," she chuckled faintly, "we came earlier than expected. I called your mother and she said she will inform you. Maybe she forgot."
Meanwhile, Hoseok decided that he might as well study (ahem check out) the physique of the man who has evidently mended his fate into something he had not consented about: marriage.
"Mother had not called. At all. In fact, I was unaware of your visit until now," he let out a nervous chuckle.
He felt jealousy creep up his chest as he watched Namjoon's define abdomen through the thin white shirt. He narrowed his eyes as it vibrated with every chuckle. Hoseok had to train damn hard to get his abs and he even then he was still unsatisfied with his body.
"Is that so?" Mrs Jung sounded surprised, and a bit embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. We did not mean to disturb you."
Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck uneasily and shrugged. Hoseok's attention was suddenly brought to the younger man's Adam's apple before travelling to his cheeks- or more importantly his dimples. They seemed to come and go as the other talk.
