Namjin (Oneshots)

Crying?

One, two, three hundred years, that's how long it feels like- how long it would have felt like if his world came back, if his color came back. It's been over five, five years that is. It's been way longer than five years he's sat in a cave this dark, chained by his own unwillingness to leave.

43 scars decorating each arm fluidly for each one of the many crimes he had committed against his people, his 'people' who decided right and wrong like black and white. His ears rung from the deafening silence of this cave he was trapped in, safe for a droplet of water once in a while.

Sometimes he'll laugh, he'll laugh at the droplet of water, he'll laugh at himself until his throat bled, coughing up blood and growing silent once more. He'd crave for tears to drench his face, but, thinking back he never could cry...

"Are you sure? I feel as if you are bluffing, no way" a kind voice with a certain annoying charm to it spoke. So very proper and polite yet unruly at the same time. "So if i took my saber with every bit of spiritual power i have and stabbed you, you wouldn't cry?" Thick lips that seem to not have any filter asks as the man in question only nodded solemnly.

"Wouldn't" the bigger out of the two took the time to say even if it wasn't more than a word. "Yes, yes i get it, if i were to do that then I'd tire myself out since putting all of my power into one swing would damage my internal- but how could you say this after i threaten to literally stab you?" The boy adjusted his poster, long robes flowing on either side of him, red and golden like the make up on his lips and eyes.

"Hmm, you know, namjoon-ah i am the heir to the clan, i should be able to make multiple swings using full spiritual power." The golden boy grins and gets up, Namjoons seemingly bored eyes following. "Yes, yes there is no way i shouldn't be able, don't you agree?" The question falls three seconds before a sword charges its way through namjoons side, avoiding vital spots.

Namjoon only looks down, if you were to look close enough you'd see a slight frown. "A-are you serious?" The golden boy stumbles, immediately held up by a strong hand, the sharp, dangerous eyes peering into the others skull. A dull laugh comes from the almost unconscious body "seokjin" was all namjoon had to say for the other to sigh.

"You didn't cry...haha." Seokjin's body fell limp and proceeded to be lift up by namjoon. Namjoon is currently bleeding but cares more about getting the long robed man to his bed.

Plop- the noise is all it takes to snap the shackled man out of his mind. Looking up, or more so what he think is up as it's so dark he could barely see the direction.

"DIRECTION?" the black haired male asked as if he hadn't heard namjoon just say the same word two seconds ago. "Of course i know where i am going i haven't an idea why you would even ask me this." The two long pieces of hair by his ears flowed with the wind, decorated with one red bead each. "You are a guard, stop asking questions." Seokjin waved off as he started walking again, the taller, silent man only following with a straight face but eyes tinted in amusement.

"Namjoon, how-how are you still-" seokjin cuts himself off drinking water, his hair once in a high bun now fallen to mid back. "Still standing? We've been walking for hours."

"Job"

"Eh- well yes but you can take breaks." Seokjin huffs as namjoon goes behind him to redo his hair. "You don't need to do that, it's hot anyway." Seokjin complains. "No, I do, hotter, location" Namjoon replies shortly, good thing Seokjin spent at least three months of his very precious life learning "Namjoon".

"I guess so, and it's not my fault I'm bad with directions!"

(Namjoon basically said "I do need to do this, you're hotter with your hair down and you wouldn't have been so hot if you knew where you were going instead of walking around aimlessly.")