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Namjoon sighed contentedly, looking around him. As he leisurely pedaled down the dirt road, he took a deep inhale. The countryside smelled of apples from the orchard trees that he was passing, but it was intertwined with the scent of wild grasses that were sprouting by the side of the road and in the sweet shade of the trees.
It had been a really stressful week at school, with exams not going well and having to pick up extra shifts at the bakery. Thankfully, it was Friday and he actually had the day off so he was able to spend it at his favorite place.
Gently turning the handlebars after another few minutes down the road, Namjoon glided under a worn down but still standing banner advertising to passerby that you could Pick Your Own Berries! at Kim’s Ex-straw-dinary Berry Farm. He pulled up to the small, abandoned stand and left a few dollars in the jar under the counter as a thank you. It wasn’t required, just recommended, but he wanted to show his gratitude in some way, seeing as he never saw anyone around to thank. He wasn’t sure about the actual business aspect, but they probably just had enough money with selling them to local stores or something that they weren’t concerned with the occasional person taking a few handfuls.
He hopped back on his bike as he wondered where to go today. After he found this place two years ago and had been coming back on a fairly regular basis, he had spent a lot of time exploring the grounds. At first, Namjoon had stuck to simply going a few rows over and sitting down. Eventually, though, he had begun to wander deeper into the fields, going past a distant tree line to sit by something that was too big to be called a pond but too small to be a lake. That was where he was headed today.
Before he did, though, he needed to actually gather berries. He carefully leaned his bike against the fence by the gate but hidden from any passing cars just in case. Out of the basket on the front of his bike, he grabbed his bag that contained his current read, a tupperware container for the berries, and a small blanket to sit on. Slipping the strap over his shoulder, he set out on his way.
A couple rows over, he took the lid off of the container he had for the berries and crouched down. It seemed to be the perfect time of year for the strawberries growing. He noticed that they were all just the right amount of ripe, looking deliciously juicy and a beautiful deep red. Instead of putting the first one in the container, he carefully grabbed the berry off the vine and took a bite. Closing his eyes in pleasure, he let the sugary sweet taste roll on his tongue.
The patch truly had the best berries around. Namjoon couldn’t buy them at the store anymore after being spoiled with eating them straight from the plant. The farm didn’t use any pesticides or GMOs, as they advertised on a hand-painted sign by the entrance. As a general rule, Namjoon tried to eat organically and healthy, but he was a struggling university student and he wasn’t always able to follow those guidelines due to both temptation and money. But here, at this farm, he knew that what he was getting was authentically grown and valuable. Not only that, but it allowed him to support the local economy.
He came for the berries, but he stayed for the feeling.
Namjoon never saw a single other person around. The rows of strawberries covered more than a few acres, and seeing as strawberry plants are on the ground, he could see all of it. But he never saw any workers, no owners, no other people coming to pick the berries. The openness of the blue sky and the unobstructed view of the horizon provided a sense of serenity for Namjoon and he could often forget about the struggles of school, friends, work, or other drama while he was out here.
He led a fairly busy life- it was a full load, but it was bearable and as long as he had an outlet, like this, then he didn’t get overly stressed. He often took a couple hours every week or two to come out here and read his book, phone left at home, surrounded by only nature. It was his escape, his time for himself.
As he relished in the peace overtaking his heart, he was slowly, very slowly, filling the container with the best fruit. It was always a slow process, making his way out to the pond. He ended up eating more berries than he was putting away, as usual. The knees of his pants were getting quite dirty, as were the toes of his worn boots and his hands but he paid it no mind. He didn’t have anyone to impress, and he didn’t really mind the dirt so much.
Over the course of probably a half hour, he had wandered about a quarter mile from the entrance, stomach weighed down with sweet fruit and hands carrying still more. He tucked the tupperware back into his bag, wiping his hands off on his jeans as best as he could before reaching for the book. If he walked slowly, because he was really in no hurry, he would probably be able to read a chapter or two before he even got the waterfront.
The only problem with walking and reading was this: Namjoon was clumsy and terrible at multitasking.
Before he knew it, a searing and blinding pain was shooting from his ankle and his arms were reaching out to catch the ground that was quickly rising up to meet him. Without thinking to silence himself, he instinctively let out a warbled cry at full volume.
Seeing as he was clumsy, he was constantly tripping or walking into things. But this was probably the worst pain he had felt in years. His eyes squeezed shut as tight as they could as if he could block it out that way, and his mouth was open in a now silent cry that was intermittent with half aborted sobs or hisses. His hands were reaching down to grab his ankle that deceivingly looked totally fine. His other leg was folded under him at an awkward angle, having fallen so quickly.
After another minute of just trying to sit through the pain, he realized it wasn’t working. Maybe he just needed to walk it off? He decided that that was the best option, and it was probably just a twist that would have to go away in another few minutes because nothing looked wrong, so it didn’t seem to be broken, and he didn’t hear a crack anyways. But when he tried to maneuver it even just a little bit with his hands, he found that that wasn’t gonna happen. It magnified the pain even more, and a tear of frustration slipped out of his eye.
Of course he had to leave his phone at home. He couldn’t even call for help, and there was no way he would be able to get back to the bike. And even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to pedal. Normally, he loved how deserted the place was because it was so serene, but right now he was cursing it because no one would come to his aid.
With a defeated and disgruntled groan, he stretched to reach his bag, tugging out the blanket and rolling it up so that he could use it as makeshift pillow while he tried to wait out the pain or think of other ideas.
After a few minutes, he remembered that there was a house on the property. It was probably where the owner lived, and it wasn’t too far from where he was now. By any means, it was certainly closer than his bike that he couldn’t ride.
He decided that asking to use the phone at the house was his best, and kind of only, option at the moment. So, gritting his teeth and putting as much of his weight on his right foot as he could, Namjoon shakily stood up with a lot of difficulty. He cursed when he realized that he had to pick up the things from the ground. He did his best, barely catching himself from falling and injuring something else when he straightened up and soon began hobbling in the direction of the farmhouse.
Every step was agony, and he had tried hopping but it just made his other leg sore so he settled for just taking it really slow and having to mentally prepare himself for every step that hurt more than the last.
By now, the sun was starting to find it’s home behind the mountains. That brought a new bout of panic with it, which was upsetting because the sunset was normally something that was so calming to Namjoon. He loved watching the moon replace the sun in the sky as it turned to purple, and out here, far from the closest city, it was magnified by a thousand. He loved feeling so small under such a great big sky. But tonight, he was sent deeper into a downward spiral because of it.
With another particularly painful step, he let out a whimper, both at the pain that shot through his ankle and the situation he was in. But his pity party was cut short by the sound of footsteps, ones that were even, and light, but rapidly approaching. Definitely not his own.
Turning around as best as he could, he squinted in the dimming light to see a figure running towards him. He was surprised, shocked, and a little bit scared if he was being honest. If this was unwelcome company, he wouldn’t be able to make a getaway or put up much of a fight if he needed to.
However, as the person got closer, and Namjoon could make out more features, he realized the man was fairly non-threatening. He had jet black hair that was bouncing with each step he took, and his cheeks were flushed from the run as he panted a bit. Namjoon tilted his head to the side, realizing the man was actually quite attractive. But the bigger question stood of who he was and why he was approaching him.
“Hi, I’m sorry for startling you,” the man panted, coming to a stop a few feet away from Namjoon and giving a small bow in greeting that Namjoon returned. “My name is Kim Seokjin, and I’m in charge of the farm here. I just wanted to let you know that we actually close at sunset, so I’m sorry, but I’ll need to ask you to start heading out.” The man’s face aligned with his apologetic tone, seeming to be honestly a bit sad that he had to ask someone to leave.
Namjoon winced. He knew that it closed with the sun, but with his ankle he must have been too distracted to remember.
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry!” Namjoon quickly apologized, feeling bad that the man had to make his way all the way out through the fields. He thought for a second on how to form his next words without sounding disrespectful. “See, I… I knew it closed, but um, I actually… sprained my ankle?” He held up his injured foot as proof with a sheepish smile on his face. “I was trying to get to the building to ask if I could use the phone, considering I biked here and I left mine at home.” Internally, he grimaced at how pitiful he sounded, like he was begging for help.
Seokjin’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Namjoon’s ankle. It was practically swollen enough to look like there was a tennis ball attached to it, and the bruising was turning it black and purple.
Immediately, Seokjin dropped the somewhat professional front he had. “Aish, that looks awful! Here, here, come lean on me,” he offered, rushing over to the younger who was blushing but hesitantly obliged. “I don’t have my cell with me either right now, but let’s get you back to the house, okay? We can get you some ice on it while you call someone to come get you or something.”
“Seokjin-ssi, I don’t want to be any trouble. I’ll just use your phone and then head out,” Namjoon insisted, scrambling and stuttering a bit at the other’s kindness.
Seokjin’s voice was soft. “Please, please, it’s no bother. It looks awful, and you’ll only make it worse if you don’t come inside. Let me help.”
“I- okay. If you’re sure,” Namjoon relented shyly, still very surprised at the hospitality he was being shown.
Seokjin smiled and clapped his hands. “Come on, let’s get you back to the house, you poor thing.”
And so they began their slow and not-so-steady journey back to the house. Namjoon was apologizing every other step for his “inconvenience” and Seokjin was waving him off immediately, instead murmuring when he should be careful where he steps and words of encouragement and praise that always left Namjoon’s cheeks about as red as the berries surrounding them.
With just about all of the light gone from the sky and a good 25 minutes passed, the two were able to make it back to the farmhouse. It was a quaint one story structure, and in the glow from the porch light Namjoon was able to make out that it was a pastel yellow color with a white front porch and trim. There were flower beds under the windows with all sorts of beautiful colors. It was nothing special, and yet it had an aura that was so calming, so safe, and so welcoming. Just like its owner.
Seokjin helped Namjoon up the steps, putting his previously unused hand on the younger’s waist as well this time for extra support. Namjoon’s skin was hot where his fingers had slipped, accidentally, under the hem of his shirt. Seokjin didn’t seem to notice, however, rambling on about one thing or another. Namjoon would like to say that he was paying attention to the words, but all he could focus on were the fluctuations in his voice, the melody made up of the smooth syllables strung together.
The elder pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking the door and helping Namjoon inside. He brought him over to a couch. Namjoon hopped and pivoted until he was sitting upright and he looked around for a second before deciding to set his bag at his feet. Seokjin smiled at him warmly before he began digging through the living room for pillows and blankets. When he had an armful, he set them at the opposite end of the couch from where Namjoon was sitting.
“Here, if you lay back,” Seokjin started, pushing gently on Namjoon’s shoulders and maneuvering him to be in a fairly horizontal position. “and put your foot up like so… that’s it, yeah. Here, let me get you another pillow.” Seokjin rushed around until he found another one, despite Namjoon’s protests.
Once he was able to find another one, that was ultra plush and oh god Namjoon just wanted to melt into it, Seokjin stood over Namjoon’s head. Instead of at his feet, the pillow was so he didn’t hurt his neck laying on the arm of the sofa. In theory, the gesture was incredibly thoughtful.
In effect, however, it sent Namjoon into a panic. He was being held up by Jin’s strong hands while he allowed his head and shoulders to come off the couch so the pillow could be pushed under them. Jin’s face was only mere inches from his own, and his face was so earnest and focused that Namjoon was easily sent into a content trance.
The elder’s face was beautiful. His most prominent feature was full, pouty lips that were pulled together as he focused on getting the pillow into the exact right position, properly fluffed. But past the lips, if you looked close enough (which Namjoon did), you would notice ever so slight freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks. His eyelashes were long and hovered over beautiful, a brown so dark they were almost black. They reminded Namjoon of the bark of the oldest trees, wise and comforting. In short, the man was breathtaking and Namjoon felt so lucky to be able to be close enough to appreciate it.
All Namjoon could do was watch, smitten, as Jin gently laid him back down and smoothed hands over his shoulders with a sense of finality. Namjoon murmured his thanks, still a bit taken aback at the man perched by his side.
“Oh! The ice! And let me grab the phone, too,” Jin exclaimed, standing up quickly. If Namjoon let his imagination bleed into reality a little bit, he could have sworn he saw a hint of color on the other’s cheeks before he disappeared into the kitchen. When Jin returned with his cell and an ice pack he laid so carefully on Namjoon’s ankle, Namjoon had collected himself enough to smile and thank him properly.
“Seokjin-ssi, really, I appreciate this. You don’t have to do this, letting me into your home,” Namjoon stated, boldly grabbing the other’s hand in a soft embrace when he reached for the phone. Seokjin blushed, looking away.
“Anyone would have done the same thing. And it’s hyung to you,” he replied. “I’ll give you some privacy for the phone call.”
As he left the room, Namjoon wondered who to call. His roommate, Taehyung, would probably be the person but he didn’t have his number memorized since he always just pressed on the contact. He debated for a second, before realizing that he could just call his own phone that he left on the table.
After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. He tried again, getting the same result. He scrubbed a hand down his face in defeat.
Now what? Namjoon sat with the phone in his hand for a minute, trying to think of a taxi service that came out this far. It was a while out of the nearest town, much less a city where taxi services would be abundant.
He was broken out of his thoughts by Jin’s fingers rapping on the doorframe. “Hey, are you done? I don’t want to interrupt, but I didn’t hear you talking.” When Namjoon waved him in, Jin perched on the couch right by his waist, looking down at him.
“No, no, you weren’t interrupting. No one answered,” Namjoon supplied, brows furrowing, still deep in thought about how to solve this. “He must be out. The taxi services don’t come out this far, and I don’t know anybody else’s number that’s close enough,” Namjoon informed him, sighing in defeat and closing his eyes for a second.
“Hmm. Well, that’s okay, you can just stay here and we’ll try again in the morning,” Jin said, his voice nonchalant and a little bit spacey. Namjoon’s eyes shot open.
“What? No, no, no. That’s unnecessary. I’ll just… ask someone else!”
“But you just said you don’t know anybody else’s number? Listen, really, it’s fine. It’s actually better, we can keep your ankle iced and elevated like it’s supposed to be.” Seokjin sounded very sure on the matter, leaving no room for argument. Namjoon was baffled at his hospitality.
“But this is your home! Hyung, I can’t intrude like this, honestly. I really appreciate all of the kindness you’ve shown me, but this is really too much,” Namjoon cried out, trying to sit up to show his adamancy on the matter, but Jin would have none of it and pushed his shoulders back down.
“I made enough dinner for a small army earlier, anyways. Please, it’s no trouble. I have a spare room that no one uses, and it would be nice to have someone else in this old home for once. You’d practically be doing me a favor,” Seokjin insisted, laugh lines making themselves known around his eyes, his words followed by a high-pitched laugh.
“I-I… Okay,” Namjoon relented. “But I’ll be out of here first thing in the morning!”
“Aish, no you won’t, silly. We’ll have to check and make sure it didn’t get any more swollen, and ice it at least a couple times before you have to ride in a car without it for a while. You’ll have to stay at least through breakfast.” Seokjin’s eyes held a friendly twinkle that went along with his words, and at that point Namjoon knew that those were just excuses. He was wanted.
Namjoon had to hide a smile threatening to take over his face. “Ah, hyung, if you’re sure…”
“Of course I’m sure! Now, I think that ice has been on for twenty minutes, right?” At Namjoon’s nod, Jin stood and grabbed it off of his ankle. “Okay. While this freezes back up, let me get you some food, okay? I’ll be right back.”
As Jin scurried away, Namjoon felt a bit weird. He couldn’t really move or help with dinner, upon Jin’s insistence that his foot needed to stay elevated, leaving him feeling like a terrible guest. He pouted, unsure what to do if he couldn’t help.
However, the house had a fairly open floor plan, so Jin could see it when Namjoon’s face fell. Immediately, he rushed over, abandoning the containers he was pulling out of the fridge.
“Namjoon-ah, what’s the matter? Are you alright? Is it hurting?” he fussed, nimble fingers running over Namjoon’s form in an attempt to find the discomfort. Little did he know that it wasn’t a physical ailment. Namjoon grabbed his hands, stopping their frantic movements, and held them still, which made Jin look him in the eyes.
“Hyung, hyung, stop. It’s okay.” Namjoon smiled softly and paused, mulling over how to articulate his thoughts in a way that his hyung wouldn’t misunderstand or be offended. “I just… wish I could help. I feel like I’m just barging into your home, and I can’t even stand up to help you with dinner or get my own ice or anything.” He hung his head low, a bit ashamed.
Soft, large hands cupped his cheeks gently. “Please, don’t feel that way. You’re a guest in my home, and even if you could stand, or could help with dinner, or could get your own ice, I wouldn’t let you. It’s been a while since someone has taken care of you like you deserved, hasn’t it?” Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, meeting those of the other above him that were sincere and searching for a sign that his words had registered.
“I… yeah. Yeah, it has.” Somehow, admitting that to someone felt monumental. However cliche, it was a huge weight off of his chest to succumb to the fact that he was in desperate need of someone to take care of him.
“I know, I can tell. So let me take care of you. Put your feet up and I’ll be back soon, okay? You can call for me if you need anything.” With a gentle pat on his knee, Seokjin had disappeared into the kitchen again.
Namjoon melted back into the couch, squeezing his eyes shut to not let his now misty eyes leak tears down his cheeks. He knows that, by all reasonable accounts, he should be creeped out, wary, or even scared of the conversation they had just had. But it was clear that Jin had meant no harm, wasn’t trying to be intrusive, and he had seen Namjoon in a way that so many others, including his closest friends, had failed to. There was something about this Kim Seokjin that made Namjoon feel right at home, warm and welcome and wanted.
It really had been so long since someone had looked after him. He overloaded his schoolwork again, partially due to interest and wanting to learn new things but also partially because he felt like if he took less, or even the same, number of units as last year, then he would be failing himself, not pushing himself hard enough to improve. So not only was he drowning in school, but he filled his already minimal free time with work and volunteering, and even tutoring.
He tried to let his friends lean on him instead of the other way around. They were all younger than him, so he wanted to be the hyung who had everything all together, who always knew what to say and could always help them out when they came to him needing advice. But in the process, he must have forgotten that he needed someone to lean on, too.
Going out to the strawberry farm was the one time that Namjoon allowed himself to let go of the stresses of the real world. Now, it seems, this place wasn’t only a place where he could forget about it, but it was a place where someone else took the burdens from his shoulders instead of him just avoiding them.
In just an hour, Jin had seen that, had broken down his walls and understood what he needed.
He opened his eyes again, now dry, as soft footsteps padded towards him, and he scooted over another inch or two to allow Jin room again to perch right by his side on the couch.
Jin was holding two plates, one in each hand, and he took the spot Namjoon had cleared for him. “So I know it’s not much, but I normally only cook for myself.” He set one of the plates down on the coffee table, but kept hold of the other and picked up a fork. “Are you able to sit up even a little? I don’t want you to choke, but we want to keep your foot elevated.” Namjoon nodded and moved to follow his orders as much as he could, which, granted wasn’t much, but it was enough.
What Namjoon wasn’t expecting was a fork, loaded with a bite of rice and beef, coming at his face. He reflexively opened up his mouth before his brain could catch up, and while he chewed, he kept a confused eye on Jin, who noticed.
“What? You can’t sit up to eat if you’re keeping your foot up. And all you’ve eaten today is strawberries, probably, huh?” Namjoon nodded sheepishly. “I said I would take care of you, you’re a guest in my home. So open wide.” He swallowed, and opened his mouth tentatively for the next bite.
While he ate, Jin was easily carrying the conversation. He rambled on and on about he had inherited the farm from his grandfather when he died a few years ago, his parents not interested in keeping it running themselves. He talked about how much he loved the fields at dusk, and sitting by the pond after a long week. He had grown up on the farm, spending summers here with his grandpa filled with love and laughter and sunshine.
Namjoon was appreciating the way he lit up when he talked. His eyebrows went up, his words began to come out faster, a bit jumbled when he was excited, and he looked relaxed. While he was absentmindedly feeding Namjoon, Jin seemed to be far away, a content and nostalgic look clouding his eyes. Namjoon decided he liked that look, liked seeing him happy.
Once the plate was set aside and Namjoon glanced at the clock, he realized how much time had passed of him simply listening to the other’s story. At some point, Jin had replaced the ice on his foot, but he took it off again, because “if you do it for more than twenty minutes at a time, it does more harm than good!” and now Namjoon, with a full stomach and a light heart, was starting to feel a bit drowsy. He hid a yawn behind his hand, blinking up at Jin who, of course, noticed immediately.
“Aigoo, someone must be tired. Come on. I’ll lend you some pajamas and then let’s get you to bed.” With a promise to be right back, Jin disappeared into his room to find sweats and a t shirt for the other. He came back empty-handed, having deposited the clothes in the guest bedroom.
Seokjin walked back over to the couch, clapping his hands once before he started speaking. “Okay. If you’re able to sit up, then you can grab onto my shoulders, and we can- yep, just like that. Let’s get you to bed.” His voice was warm, and Namjoon was melting in it, melting into his careful yet strong held.
After Namjoon was safely deposited on the bed, Jin sat down next to him.
“Okay. So your clothes are right there, the switch is next to the bed, and if you can’t sleep or something there’s books on the desk. Please call for me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, and I’ll come running.” Jin was sincere in his assurance and Namjoon’s dimples made an appearance.
“I will. I’m okay, really. You should get some sleep, too. And again, I really can’t thank you enough for this. All of this.”
They both knew what that sentence meant, and a soft, warm smile was shared between them. In a moment of boldness, Jin leaned over and kissed Namjoon’s forehead, pulling the covers over the other’s chest and tucking him in effectively.
“Goodnight, Jin.”
“Goodnight, Namjoon.”
—-
Namjoon’s eyes blinked open at the soft light coming in through the window. With a weary-eyed glance towards the clock, he noticed it was only about 6:15 in the morning, so first light was illuminating the sky just a little bit but the sun was still below the horizon. He had always been a morning person, and this was his chance to see the fields at sunrise so he wasn’t about to miss it.
He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, completely forgetting about his ankle until it made harsh contact with the ground. Thankfully, it was still bandaged so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but he still squeezed his eyes shut and repressed a hiss of pain for the sake of Jin sleeping in the room next door.
As quietly as he could, he hobbled over to the bookshelf, and tapped his finger on his lips for a minute before choosing one and pulling it out. Still trying not to wake up the other occupant, he made his (very slow) way to the kitchen and after a second of thought decided that Jin wouldn’t be too offended if he grabbed a glass of orange juice, so he did just that.
When no sounds were heard from Jin’s room that would signal him waking up, Namjoon snuck out to the porch and took a seat on the wicker chair, setting his juice on the table next to him and opening his book.
And so he sat, just reading, until the sun was above the mountains in the distance. He soaked up the calm vibe, the cool fresh air that smelled of strawberries and nature.
Without his realizing, over an hour had soon passed and Jin was frantically looking around inside for the younger. When he realized that he wasn’t anywhere inside, he opened the front door, ready to search the grounds, and found Namjoon in such a state of serenity that he regretted having slammed the door open so loudly.
“Namjoon-ah, come on inside. I’m making breakfast,” Jin requested softly. Namjoon turned his head around to look at the other, and he looked so at peace, so content, when a warm smile greeted Jin in response.
“I’d love to.”
Namjoon leaned on the older as he was brought to the kitchen. He had really enjoyed spending time with him, but now his time with Jin was coming to an end, and he still hadn’t figured out how to get home. He pushed that thought out of his mind, determined to enjoy it fully until he had to go.
Jin cooked French toast and bacon while Namjoon sat at the counter and watched pensively. God, Jin was perfect. He was so pleasant to be around, so kind and nurturing to someone he didn’t know. Not to mention how perceptive he was, and his cooking that smelled incredible. A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken by the crackle of the bacon in the pan and the sweet song of birds singing through the open window.
Jin was the first to break it as he was dividing the food onto two plates. “You know, you’re welcome anytime. You don’t have to wait until your ankle is sprained again. Come watch more sunrises with me.” He didn’t look up from the plates, his cheeks flushing as he carefully avoided looking at Namjoon.
“I’d like that, hyung. I’d like that a lot.” His words were accompanied by the biggest smile that Seokjin had seen yet, not shaded by shyness or timidity. That was a full, real smile and god it was beautiful.
"Good. Now eat up, and I'll give you a ride back home, but only if you promise to come back soon."
"I promise, hyung."