Chapter Text
Namjoon sleeps in Seokjin’s room that night. He doesn’t know what possesses him when he says yes. He was still a bit annoyed that Jungkook had let Taehyung into their bed, and maybe a bit of him was worried that he wouldn’t be able to sleep without another body near him after the one night Jungkook didn’t. Jungkook had been a lot clingier since entering the estate, and the sound of his slow breathing is usually what lulled Namjoon into his own.
They don’t really talk as they get ready for bed, and they stay on their own sides, far from each other. Seokjin smiles at him sweetly before he turns out the light, and then he rolls away from him. And from what Namjoon could tell, he goes right to sleep.
It wasn’t as easy for him, but easier than he thought. Seokjin was quiet and didn’t move much, and with his eyes closed Namjoon could almost pretend like it wasn’t Seokjin at all. But then again, if it was Jungkook, he would be half on top of him with hands in his shirt. As soon as he tried to pretend maybe he wasn’t in Seokjin’s room, his eyes would snap open, and he would see the light blue walls from where Seokjin had left his curtains open only a centimeter. Seokjin’s room looked lived in, unlike the bare one that Jungkook and Namjoon’s still had. He had books on a shelf and trinkets in between, and he even had a TV that had some console things underneath it. Namjoon fell asleep thinking about how Jungkook and him filled the space of their home, and how he wasn’t sure if they would fill in the space in this one.
In the morning, they’re significantly closer than when they went to sleep, not touching, but almost. Namjoon’s head was tilted towards Seokjin’s shoulder, and if he moved just a little bit more, he’d be resting against it and feeling Seokjin’s heat. Namjoon tries not to think about it, so of course it’s the only thing he does.
He’s not too sure when Seokjin woke up. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, apparently content to lie in bed for a little while longer, the room now fully dark with the start of the night, but eventually Seokjin rolls out of bed into his own ensuite. Namjoon tries to pull himself together during that time but probably looks more rumbled anyways. He’s never been a very composed guy anyways.
“There are some errands we have to run,” Seokjin announces as he comes back in. He’s back in his robe and looking a little too flawless for just waking up. Namjoon is sure that his hair was going in every direction, and one side of his face was red and puffy from the pillow. Soekjin looked like he had slept on a bed of clouds, coiled softly in their whisps, and like he got the perfect sleep.
“We?” He croaks out in response. Namjoon didn’t know there was an option of a we that needed to do errands. After Yoongi’s threat of keeping him in a tower, Namjoon was almost convinced that they would never let him out of the estate again, as if he was going to melt into the background and go running. He might, he thought, depending on where they might take him. He wouldn’t put it past him to do it or them to think that.
Seokjin hums, going over to his closet. “We need to get you added into the coven accounts and get you your own cards. Jungkook says you don’t have a phone either, and even if you don’t want anything, you should get one of those flip phones just to reach us if you need. I’d like to take you shopping, too. Kook-ah is getting a little obnoxious since you only wear his clothes.”
“He said mine were here,” Namjoon says, like he has to defend himself. “But I never found any of them.” He didn’t look that hard, he admits. He checked out the closet one night, bigger than their previous kitchen, and when he didn’t see anything he immediately recognized, he just grabbed the first things he saw, all Jungkook’s. Jungkook had seemed to get a kick out of giving him outfits to wear each night, so Namjoon didn't really think about furthering on that topic.
“I’m pretty sure Jimin tossed them. They weren’t in the best condition,” Seokjin waves his hand and goes to pick out his own clothes. Namjoon feels a little miffed that his meager wardrobe is apparently gone and starts to think about how he might be able to weasel his way out of going anywhere in public. He didn’t like going anywhere out of the house, and even with this one having jumpscares at every turn, he still felt safer here than out there. Here, everyone knew, and even if they did decide to use it against him, it wasn’t the same as a stranger looking through him out there and figuring out, knowing, what he really was.
The door opens suddenly, and Namjoon whips his head towards the sound. Yoongi is standing in the doorway, seeing Seokjin first and then Namjoon second. He looks a little smug at seeing Namjoon ruffled and in someone else’s bed, as if this was something he was waiting for and now that it’s happened, he’s proven himself right in some way, like he knew something all along that Namjoon didn’t. It irritates Namjoon immediately. Yoongi leans up against the frame and crosses his arms with a smirk. “Here you are,” he says. Namjoon feels a lilt of a taunt in his voice and feels his jaw tense at Yoongi’s smug face.
Seokjin looks over and makes a questioning sound.
“I was looking for Namjoon this morning, and Jungkook seemed very put out that he wasn’t with him,” Yoongi explains, eyes never leaving Namjoon. He can almost picture it. Jungkook with his hair ruffled and fluffy, pouting in bed with the blankets around his waist, looking around and not seeing Namjoon there. It’s an image he’s seen before a hundred times, and once he finds Namjoon, he always whines and says that he gets cold when Namjoon leaves before him.
Seokjin scoffs. “Tae and Minnie were probably with him, and still it’s not enough. He’s greedy.”
“He’s sweet,” Namjoon defends automatically, the words out of his mouth before he even thinks about it, and Seokjin and Yoongi both look at him with mixed reactions, some fondness, some annoyance.
“You were looking for Namjoon?” Seokjin prompts then, and Namjoon looks towards the bed spread when Seokjin strips off his pajama shirt to throw on a cream colored sweater. He catches a glimpse of his pale skin around his stomach and feels like someone who just caught the glimpse of an ankle for the first time.
He can feel Yoongi watching him for a beat before he lazily responds, “Yes, meet me in the study when you’re a little more… composed” He watches Namjoon for a second longer, and he can feel his face heat up at the attention and with the way he can see Seokjin stripping off his pants from the corner of his eye. They were just all so comfortable around here, with each other, with their space, and it was unnerving to be forced into that equation so easily, as if he was supposed to be comfortable automatically too, as if he should be comfortable ever. Whatever he was looking for, he finds, and then he’s turning and leaving, not shutting the door. Seokjin starts complaining under his breath, and Namjoon suddenly feels like if he knew everyone a little bit better, he might have started laughing. It suddenly felt like everyone was laughing at a punch line that he didn’t understand.
“You can wear some of my stuff today if you want to annoy Kook-ah,” Seokjin suggests.
Namjoon shrugs, still feeling out of place. “Sure.”
He gets dressed in some dark jeans that fit around the waist with the help of a belt and a black sweater that was soft to the touch. He feels expensive, even in the plain clothes he’s wearing, and he keeps rubbing at the edge of the sweater as if he’s never felt anything like it before. He probably hasn’t. Seokjin offers to walk him to Yoongi’s office, but Namjoon declines, only semi-confident that he knows the way but mostly just needing a second to himself to breathe.
“What did you want?” Namjoon asks, trying not to show too much of his mood. He still wasn’t comfortable one on one with Yoongi, even if he does always feel a little bolder that way. His red eyes always felt intense and absolute, and when he looked too long at him, it felt like Yoongi could read into his soul, if Turneds had them.
“Always so polite,” Yoongi responds with a scoff. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the couch. Namjoon rolls his eyes, following suit. “You need to feed.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” Namjoon denies, feeling his hackles rise. He wouldn’t feed from Yoongi again. He didn’t want that bond snapping in place, and if he could just avoid feeding, it would never have time to grow.
“But it has been too long,” Yoongi snarks back. “I let you stew about it for long enough, but it’s time to get on schedule.”
Namjoon hesitates. He isn’t sure how he can get out of this. Yoongi has made it clear that he isn’t going to budge, and now that Namjoon has gotten in the room with him, he feels cornered. Yoongi got him right where he wanted him, and even though he probably would have found him at another time or gotten him alone another way, Namjoon should have known this was going to happen. If he had just avoided this, had avoided Yoongi, he could have gotten away for a few more days. He feels like he walked into a trap, and he feels stupid for it. He’s felt stupid often in this estate.
“This is a fairly easy process. You’re the one who keeps prolonging it,” Yoongi says with a sigh, like this was too much effort for him. It probably was. An ancient like him probably had vampires fawning for him everywhere he went. He probably had people declaring their desire to marry him as soon as he walked out the door, had letters from fans stuffing his mailbox full, and here he was, trying to get a Turned to feed from him, one of the most desirable in the state. This is the most effort he put into a coven member surely, and Namjoon wonders if he’ll grow tired of it eventually and leave him on his own. Part of him hoped he did.
Yoongi goes to raise his wrist towards his mouth. “The same tricks won’t work on me twice,” Namjoon spits out. Seokjin kept trying to give him these choices, where he wants to sleep, what he wants to eat at dinner, where he wants to sit at the table, this morning what he wanted to wear, and Yoongi didn’t seem like he cared about Namjoon’s choices at all. This was the plan, and that is what they were doing, whether Namjoon had an opinion about it or not. The whiplash was starting to make him irritated.
“Tricks? I wasn’t under the impression I was tricking you,” Yoongi shrugs. “I offered it to you, and you took it. You were starved enough that your body took charge when you wouldn’t.”
“I wasn’t starving,” Namjoon denies. He wasn’t. He ate what he could when he could, and he was fine with that. He could survive off of animal blood just fine, and even if it didn’t always settle right, he survived. He lasted all this time on his own, and now this coven comes waltzing in, thinking they know best, that they know him. He went years without feeding from a Born, decades, and he didn’t need an overbearing coven leader, that he did not want to begin with, telling him what to do. He can take care of himself, has been for all this time, and all these new people demanding little things from him; his attention, his responses, his space; felt sweltering.
Yoongi sighs again, this conversation was exhausting him, even though it was early in the night. He brings his wrist up to his mouth and makes an incision, sealing the end of the conversation.
Namjoon can feel all of his attention on the blood instantly, zeroing in on Yoongi’s wrist, just like the last time. It almost feels as if he’s floating outside of his body looking in, like he’s watching a starved animal figure out there’s food in the room nearby, food that is for the taking. He doesn’t want to feel feral like this. “I’m fine, really,” he tries to say, trying to ignore the call of the drops running down Yoongi’s wrist and the copper smell permeating the room.
“Wanna bet?” He hears Yoongi ask, always so smug, that bastard.
It doesn’t take as long as last time.
Namjoon drinks his fill, feeling loopy and out of his head, and once he’s done, he’s fully leaning against Yoongi, practically cuddled into his chest like he’s melted onto him. And Yoongi is combing through his hair. It felt nice. He felt relaxed, like there wasn’t a care in the world.
“Why do you deny it?” Yoongi asks quietly. His lips were tickling at the hair near Namjoon’s temples, and it made him want to giggle. Namjoon is staring at the ceiling and wondering how they got such intricate woodwork up there, and why people even need it for a ceiling anyways. It’s just a ceiling. People didn’t spend that long looking up anyways, unless they were Namjoon, freshly fed and feeling intoxicated. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Namjoon feels himself smile. “Starving,” he answers with a laugh. “All the time.” What a stupid question, he thinks. Maybe Yoongi can be stupid too sometimes.
“So let us feed you, Joon-ah,” Yoongi says earnestly.
Namjoon whines and curls in towards Yoongi’s neck. He throws an arm around Yoongi’s stomach, and it clearly doesn’t phase Yoongi too much because he just adjusts his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders. Namjoon can feel Yoongi’s slow pulse under his nose, and he’s tempted to sink his teeth in again, even though he’s full.
He’s felt the temptation before with Jungkook, when he’s warm and still in bed, and Namjoon has found himself too close to his jugular. He heard his steady pulse, was looking hard enough that he convinced himself he could see the thumping under Jungkook’s skin, and he thought that he could just move forward a little bit and bite. And then he wouldn’t be so hungry anymore. His sweet boy wouldn’t mind, he would think. His barnacle boy would give himself over completely if Namjoon asked for it.
But then he remembers that Turneds can’t bite through the jugular without the help, their fangs too small, too small by design so that they can’t live without the help of Borns. And then he thinks that if Jungkook woke up to someone gnawing at his neck, Namjoon would have to explain himself, at least a little bit, and Jungkook would find out, and be disgusted, and kick him out or worse, turn him in.
Turneds don’t get what they want, he reminds himself. They get taken, and sold, and owned. They get told what to do, and they listen. Or they get beaten. They don’t get to stay with a pretty coven or sweet boys, like Jungkook, and play house with them.
“Shouldn’t get attached,” Namjoon almost slurs. He pushes himself closer to Yoongi, seeking out the warmth from his skin. He might as well enjoy it while he has it.
“You can,” Yoongi answers, quiet and low. “We just want to care for you.”
“Not for a Turned.” Namjoon feels delirious. He wants to crawl into Yoongi’s lap and be pet like a cat. Is it supposed to feel like this? He doesn’t remember it feeling like this before. It just feels so nice. It never felt nice before. It felt like he was a dog being strapped down the table with his jaw being pried open.
They were all just being so nice.
“For Namjoon. We want to care for Joon-ah,” Yoongi responds, his lips grazing against Namjoon’s forehead.
Namjoon just hums and feels like he’s dozing off, even though he’s still awake. He stays cocooned in Yoongi’s arms until he feels more in his own head. And even though he is quite comfortable where he is, the longer he stays like that, the more he’s aware that he’s cuddling with Yoongi, and Yoongi still doesn’t seem bothered by it. He’s rubbing at Namjoon’s back and occasionally through his hair as if this is something they do all the time.
“Kookie is looking for you,” Yoongi announces, and it feels a little loud for the quiet atmosphere they were in.
Namjoon pushes himself away from Yoongi, trying to be casual about it, and Yoongi looks completely unaffected even though Namjoon knows his face is probably beet red. He pulls himself off the couch and goes to stand a few feet away, as if the distance will help with the embarrassment going down his spine.
“What?”
“Jungkook,” Yoongi says again. He straightens out his shirt. “He’s looking for you.”
Namjoon squints at him. Jungkook hadn’t come in this time. There probably would have been a commotion if he did, with the way Yoongi and him were settled. Yoongi must notice him trying to put the dots together and waves his phone. Namjoon didn’t even realize he had it with him. “We have a group chat,” Yoongi explains.
“Oh,” Namjoon says, dumbly. He’s had a hard time keeping up with the technology improvements over the last few decades, and even though Jungkook has done his best to keep Namjoon up to date, most of it goes right over his head.
Yoongi looks at him for another second, like he’s waiting to see if he’s going to say anything else. “You should go see him before you go out with Jin,” Yoongi prompts. “We’ll add you to the chat once you get a phone.”
“I don’t need a phone,” Namjoon complains, just to be a brat. He didn’t get the chance to complain this morning when Seokjin had mentioned it, still a little out of sorts with being in his bed, but now that he still has his leftover boldness from the feed, the whine slips out without much thought.
“Not optional,” Yoongi snips back. “You’ll feed again in two days. Also not optional.”
Namjoon scrunches up his face and leaves without saying anything else. He leaves the door open, just to be a dick.
He finds Jungkook in the living room, leaned up against Jimin on the couch, where they’re both watching Taehyung animatedly reenact some story from some of his friends. Jimin is laughing hard enough that he’s tipping forward, and Jungkook is chuckling and falling forward with Jimin’s momentum, holding him around the middle to keep him seated on the couch.
He stays back, not wanting to interrupt. He hasn’t really talked to either Taehyung or Jimin, avoiding them more successfully than the others so far. Jimin doesn’t seem to be his biggest fan, so he thinks the avoidance might be mutual anyways.
“Are you ready to leave?”
Everyone’s attention looks towards Seokjin, who is just looking at Namjoon, so then everyone is looking at Namjoon.
“Hyung!” Jungkook calls out, finally noticing him. He jumps off the couch, pushing Jimin in his haste, who does not look pleased at that, and comes bounding up to Namjoon. “Where did you go after we went to bed?” He says with a pout. He grasps Namjoon’s waist, and Namjoon starts feeling a little shy at the way everyone is looking at them, as if they didn’t already know about Jungkook’s affections. Jungkook squints his eyes, looking at Namjoon’s sweater. “And what are you wearing?”
“With me, and mine,” Seokjin answers with a smirk, coming up to them and swinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook’s pout only intensifies, and he turns his big, boba eyes onto Namjoon to let him know his disappointment. “You’re in a coven now, Kookie,” Seokjin says, pinching at his cheek. “You have to learn to share.”
“He’ll never want to share Namjoon-hyung!” Taehyung yells from his spot on the couch. And Namjoon almost chokes on his own spit from the declaration and the hyung. He doesn’t think Taehyung and him are casual enough for that. He’s not even sure if he’s older than the others, but he’s not going to try and correct him. Seokjin cries something back to him, but Namjoon doesn’t hear it, too busy looking back at Jungkook who has a slight pinch in his face while watching Namjoon intently.
“Ready?” Seokjin asks again, looking at Namjoon, snapping them out of their eye contact stand off.
“Where are you going?” Jungkook turns his pout back to him. Namjoon isn’t sure how much pouting is possible, but Jungkook has mastered a sweet, almost pathetic, demeanor a long time ago to get what he wants. It seems to work on everyone the same devastating amount.
Namjoon falters, not really knowing to be honest. “Uh,” he starts.
“We’re going to the council and the shopping district,” Seokjin answers for him. He turns towards Jungkook. “And no, you cannot come.” Works on almost everyone, he corrects himself.
“Why?” Jungkook whines out, pulling Namjoon close to him as if he’s going to force Seokjin to take him, too. It doesn’t seem like Namjoon’s opinion, which is to not go at all, seems to matter much. He wonders if he told Seokjin that he’d rather stay home if he would let him. He seems to be more attentive to Namjoon’s wants, but Namjoon doesn’t want to deal with his disappointment if he ends up saying no.
“You already promised Tae and Minnie to binge that show today,” Seokjin answers. He waves towards the two on the couch, who are still watching the three like they’re a particularly interesting episode of a drama.
“But-”
“No,” Seokjin interrupts. “Hyungs are going, no babies today.” Jungkook pouts for a little longer. Namjoon is almost tempted to say his face is going to get stuck like that if he keeps it up. “Say goodbye. We want to be back by dinner, and you know the bank takes forever.”
Jungkook whines again with a more exaggerated pout, and Seokjin just raises an eyebrow at him. Jungkook must give up because he pecks Seokjin on the lips quickly, and before Namjoon has the chance to fully process that, Jungkook is leaning close to kiss him, too. It’s a longer kiss than Seokjin’s, but still PG. And Namjoon spends half of it trying not to think about the audience and half leaning in.
Jungkook pulls away but stills keeps him close. “Call me first. Okay, hyung?”
Namjoon hears a scoff from somewhere else. “Always so possessive,” someone mutters.
“Okay, Kookie,” Namjoon responds. Jungkook smiles at him sweetly and kisses him again quickly before bounding back over to the couch.
Seokjin says a quick goodbye to the other two as well, kissing them both with a reminder to be good, and Taehyung waves at Namjoon over Seokjin’s shoulder on their way out. He wonders if he’s that naturally friendly or if he’s trying for the coven’s sake.
“Hobi is going to come with us,” Seokjin says as he takes Namjoon a winding way to the garage. Namjoon almost misses his next step in the surprise. He had mostly been able to steer clear of Hoseok since his arrival. Hoseok was usually attached to one of the others, so it wasn’t too hard, but Namjoon could feel him looking at him during dinners, in passing when they crossed the same room. When he looks up, Hoseok always tries to catch his eye and smile at him, almost fondly, and it always makes Namjoon feel particularly flustered.
They haven’t been one on one since he came, and Namjoon was trying to make sure it stayed that way.
They meet him in the garage, next to a car that seems far too fancy for Namjoon to stand next to, and Namjoon looks at Hoseok just long enough to see that same fond smile he usually has. “Ready?” He asks and then opens the car door for Namjoon like he’s some maiden. There’s that flustered feeling again.
The council building is first, and Hoseok and Seokjin make small talk on the drive there. Namjoon doesn’t go into the city very often, tried to never go into the city actually. Yoongi’s meeting was the first time in years, and even then trying to figure out the bus schedule and how to pay for it was overwhelming enough. Now they’re sitting at a red light, and Namjoon is mesmerized by the lights flickering in the streets, by the people walking by, by the crowds in cafes and in restaurants laughing and eating. It feels safe to watch from inside here. It doesn’t feel safe to be out there.
The council building was quick, though overwhelming. People were coming in and out, and there were people waiting in rooms and hallways and people milling about. Namjoon thinks about the last time he was here, meeting with Yoongi. He had to check in at a front desk, and they told him where to find Yoongi’s office, which was still confusing enough. Seokjin must come here often enough because he didn’t even stop at the front desk, just bypassed it into the hallways, smiling and waving at a few people around, and then they end up at a desk where he saunters up with a cheesy smile.
“Ah, Seokjin-ssi, how can I help today?” A small woman asks, pushing up some glasses that look like they don’t have lenses in them.
“We need to add someone to the coven registry,” Seokjin answers, leaning against the counter.
“Didn’t you just add someone?” She asks with an eye brow raised. She looks Namjoon up and down, and he feels himself slump into himself at the attention. His usual schtick when he was around any other vampires was to appear small and meaningless, completely forgettable. Hard to do that when he was the one they were talking about.
“They came as a set,” Hoseok chuckles. “This one is just a little shy.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder, and the woman looks at Namjoon just a little longer, making him even more uncomfortable as people are passing behind him, chattering loudly.
“We’ll just add him to the other paperwork then,” the woman states, turning towards her computer. “Name?”
She wasn’t asking him, and Seokjin answers, “Namjoon”, easily.
“Surname?”
“Kim,” Seokjin says with a smile that Namjoon doesn’t understand, and Hoseok snickers behind his hand until he turns into a full laugh. Another punchline he didn’t understand.
The woman doesn’t look as amused, not getting whatever was funny just like Namjoon, but she clicks it into her computer. “Okay,” she says. “He’s added. It’ll delay the processing for Jungkook-ssi, but you should see both of their coven registrations in the mail in a few weeks.”
“Thank you,” Seokjin singsongs as he pushes off the counter. “I’ll send those cookies you like with Yoongi next week!” He says, waving cutely, and then they were done. And just like that, Namjoon was registered to a coven. And just like that they were back in the car and off to the next place.
It almost feels anticlimactic. After a century of trying to fall from society’s view, he’s officially registered in Min Yoongi’s ancient coven. A woman he’s never met just entered his name on some form, and that’s all it took. Namjoon doesn’t remember the first time. He’s not too sure if there was registration back then. Vampires probably just showed up with half-dead Turneds and claimed them as theirs, and that’s all there was to it. But then again, it wasn’t too different from now. Seokjin walking up and claiming Namjoon as his with no other questioning.
She didn’t even ask him his own name. She just looked at Seokjin.
He feels locked in, like he’s shackled to this coven he never wanted and tried to reject. But they followed him and took him, and they’ve been kind to him, probably more than he’s deserved. They haven’t locked him in a basement and stripped him bare to freeze, and to starve, and to suffer. They could have given him command after command and turn him into their slave, but they gave him a spot in their home. And even though they demand his presence, he eats at the table with them and not off the floor.
Maybe that’s all his life will ever be, being owned or being hidden. He feels tired, and Seokjin and Hoseok are talking about going to the bank, when all Namjoon wants to do is go home. Maybe this coven owning him isn’t the worst that could happen, as long as it stayed like this. He’s had worse.
The bank was easy enough, but long, like Seokjin predicted. Namjoon has never had a formal ID, had escaped from society before it was common for covens to get them for their Turneds. It proves an issue for only a moment. The banker asking for it, Namjoon looking at his feet and shaking his head, and Seokjin sighing at the banker when he tries to make a fuss about it. The entire time, Hoseok is sitting in a chair in the corner, clicking around on his phone, and snickering when Seokjin starts to get irritated.
“Certainly you’re able to bypass this?” Seokjin said, bored.
It looks as if the banker is about to say something, but then clicks his jaw shut when Seokjin tilts his head, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Namjoon’s chair. “Of course, Mr. Min,” he says with a tight smile. It must have clicked to him that he’s talking to Min Seokjin, member of an ancient coven and old enough himself for the red around his eyes to be clear. People like Seokjin, like Yoongi, and he supposes the others too, they don’t ask, they demand- Seokjin probably more politely than others- but they got what they wanted one way or another. It wasn’t worth the red tape for this bank teller.
Namjoon feels Seokjin’s thumb rubbing in between his shoulder blades, and it’s almost soothing enough to calm down his anxiety. Almost, but not quite. Seokjin’s touch still felt unfamiliar.
They make it out of there over an hour later, and Namjoon is completely done with being out by now. Over it and ready to go home. “Cheer up, the next stop will be more fun,” Seokjin says, squeezing at Namjoon’s shoulder. Hoseok pats at his back, opening the door for him again, and Namjoon doesn’t believe either of their cheerful spirits.
And he was right not to because the next stop is a phone store. They park on a side street, and Namjoon can see more people than he would like from outside. He feels himself start to clam up, and Seokjin pulls him along gently with a hand on his wrist.
“Jungkook-ah says you’ve never had a phone,” Hoseok says as he’s looking at some available models on a table.
“No,” Namjoon answers. They weren’t invented yet before he got out, and by the time they were, he never needed one. Jungkook had asked him at one point, but by then Namjoon learned that they could be tracked back to him, he knew he couldn’t get one.
“You want something simple?” Seokjin asks. “I’d prefer if it had GPS so we could find you-”
“No,” Namjoon interrupts quickly, perhaps too harshly, and then he swallows thickly when Seokjin and Hoseok both are looking at him with surprise and concern. “Just-” Namjoon clears his throat, trying to sink more into the wall when a woman and a kid tries to look at the same table as them. “Just if I have to get one, just calls.”
“Okay, just calls,” Seokjin says easily. He reaches out, as if to try and comfort him, but Namjoon takes a step back, and Seokjin drops his hand with a smile that’s more forced than usual.
Namjoon feels embarrassed by his outburst and goes quiet while they’re still waiting for their turn. Hoseok tries to point things out, and Namjoon makes vague humming noises and tries to keep a few steps away from him when he can, even though people keep milling around him like he’s in all of their ways. Eventually a sales person comes up to them and gets them set up quickly enough. Adding an entirely new phone, a flip phone that is marketed to elderly humans, is apparently one of the quicker options.
Back in the car, Namjoon almost wants to speak up to try and convince them to be done for the day, but Hoseok is talking about different stores in the mall they can go to to find Namjoon a new wardrobe. And Namjoon realizes that it’s only 1, and they still have hours left before dinner. It might be easier for one long day than having to face a place like the mall at a later date, so he might as well just suck it up.
As Seokjin and Hoseok are chatting at a red light, saying something about how Namjoon would look nice in Venetta, whatever that means, Namjoon types in Jungkook’s number into his new phone. They had tried to give him a rundown at the store, and Namjoon had quietly told Seokjin that he did actually know how to use one, even if he didn’t have one. Jungkook had at least got him to do that.
He hit the call button, and it rang a few times before Jungkook answers with a gruff, “Hello.”
“Kook-ah,” Namjoon answers back quietly, trying not to disturb the others in the car. He’s sinking down lower in his seat in the back of the car.
“Hyung!” He calls out, his tone turning happy now that he knows it’s not a stranger. “Did you actually get a phone?”
“Mhm,” Namjoon hums. He sees Seokjin watching him in the rearview mirror. “You said to call you first.”
“So this is your new number?”
“Mhm.”
“Are you coming home now?”
“No,” Namjoon shakes his head and remembers that Jungkook can’t see him. Even if he knows how to use the phone, he never did call very often. He had made a few calls to Jungkook on payphones before, and he remembers that he used Jungkook’s phone to call into town once, though he can’t remember why he had to now. “We’re going to a mall.”
“Ah, you’ll be tired when you get home then,” Jungkook says easily, as easily as he knows Namjoon and his moods.
“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs, leaning back in the seat.
“I’ll tell hyungs to go easy on you,” Jungkook says. “I can run you a bath after dinner to help you relax.”
“That’d be nice,” Namjoon mutters.
“Are you okay, hyung?” Jungkook asks. The concern is clear in his voice, and Namjoon remembers how sweet his Kookie is to him, his overly attached boy.
“I’m okay,” Namjoon says, and it’s mostly true. He really is okay. The stress of the day has plateaued, and while he still feels on edge, it hasn’t gotten worse since the bank. People have stared at him, but no one has sneered, or talked down to him, or bumped into him just to be rude. So he counts that as a win. And Seokjin and Hoseok have been very patient with him so far, so the only complaint he has is being tired. “I’ll see you when I get home.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Jungkook answers, and it doesn’t sound like he believes Namjoon very much. “Love you, hyung.”
Namjoon hums. “You, too,” he answers, and hangs up, trying not to think about his automatic response too much. Maybe he’s gotten clingier, too.
“If you spoil him too much, he’s just going to become a brat,” Seokjin says once he sees Namjoon no longer on the phone. He says it with a teasing smile, and he’s looking at Namjoon through the mirror. It feels easier to look into the ruby red of his eyes that way.
“He’s already a brat,” Hoseok snickers from the passenger seat. “Besides, Jungkookie spoils Joon-ah right back. Isn’t that right?”
Namjoon feels his face heat up and wants to sink into his seat to hide, practically on the floor. “He’s good to me,” he musters out.
“They’re good to each other,” Soekjin agrees, while making a turn, and that settles something in Namjoon.
They end up in a parking garage that feels exclusive and go into a fancy mall that is all glittering glass and marble floors. There are people all over the place, and it makes Namjoon feel a little crazy until Seokjin drapes his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders as easily as he did it to Jungkook this morning. It makes him feel a little better to have something grounding him, but it doesn’t make the noise any quieter. He feels jumpy and like he needs to look over his shoulder just to make sure no one is there.
Hoseok leads them around, clearly knowing where they’re headed, and once they head up an escalator towards a more central part of the mall, Namjoon stops in his tracks seeing a huge sign hanging from the ceiling, plastered with Taehyung’s face. Seokjin almost jerks when he keeps walking and Namjoon doesn’t, and then he follows his eyes to see Taehyung smoldering at them with some fancy bottle held up next to his face.
“Ah, Taehyungie,” Seokjin laughs. He pulls Namjoon away from the escalator and out of the way. “He’s everywhere in here,” Seokjin explains. He starts pointing towards various stores and signs where Taehyung is modeling in fancy shirts, or with makeup compacts, or even with a lizard on his head. “He’s got this deal with a coffee place, and everyone always sends him a picture of his face on their cup if they get it.” Seokjin laughs again. “Secret is,” he stage whispers. “Tae hates coffee. Every cup in those ads is empty.”
Seokjin pulls him along to catch up with Hoseok, and they end up in a posh store that only has a few people inside. A few of them look like workers, wearing all black suits and having little headsets over their ears. So there’s really only a couple of other customers. A woman who is older with a daughter who looks like a teen, and a man at the cash register, talking to a worker. Beside him is a young looking man with his hands behind his back and his head pointed towards the floor. There’s a ring of bruises around his throat, and Namjoon feels his chest constrict when the man finishes his business and grabs his Turned by the neck to leave.
Seokjin’s hand slides down his shoulder and rests on the small of his back. Namjoon is grateful when it gets away from his throat.
It’s honestly more of a shock that Namjoon hasn’t noticed another Turned until now. Maybe it isn’t as popular to flaunt them as much as Borns used to. Or maybe it’s more popular to keep them locked away at home.
A man comes up to them with a polite smile. “Hello, gentlemen. Is there anything in particular we could help you with?”
Namjoon leans into Seokjin, not really noticing himself doing it, but trying to creep out the store if he could. Seokjin’s hand remains firm on his back.
“We’re looking for basics,” Hoseok explains. “Timeless styles. We have a new coven mate, and his wardrobe could use a facelift.” Hoseok smiles brightly, and the man seems to be pleased with that answer, probably happy to help someone looking for a variety of options for that commission check. He ushers them further into the store and then offers them a refreshment before disappearing.
“Joon-ah,” Seokjin starts. Namjoon turns towards him. “I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?” Namjoon parrots. He sees Hoseok already looking at a rack of what looks like some pants.
“I know you’re tired,” Seokjin says. “And I’m not trying to fully exhaust you if I can avoid it, but we need to find you some of your own things that you can wear. If you can just bear with me for us to get your measurements and a few items, we can be done for the day.”
“Just a few?” Namjoon replies, only a little suspiciously. No one has taken his tiredness into account at any of their other stops.
“Only a few,” Seokjin repeats with a smile. “But you have to be honest with us. This isn’t going to work if you just pick the first things you try on. If we can tell you don’t actually like it, we’re sending you back in, and then it’s just going to take longer.”
Namjoon nods. “I think,” he wet his lips. “I think I can do that.”
“Okay, good,” Seokjin smiles at him, and Namjoon is reminded how handsome he is. “I’ll even let you get the same thing in different colors. Let’s start with your measurements first.”
The man comes back with a tray of something blood filled and bubbly, and Namjoon takes it only to be polite but sets it down on some table, watching while Seokjin and Hoseok take sips of theirs. Seokjin asks the man to get full measurements of Namjoon, and Namjoon suffers through that 15 minute experience.
He isn’t used to people touching him. It took years for him to get comfortable with Jungkook’s brand of affection, and now this coven has seemed to try and bully their way through his hesitation by just wrapping him in their arms at all times. Namjoon tries his best not to flinch when the man tacks the measuring tape across his shoulders, but he’s reminded that his posture isn’t good because the man keeps commenting on it. He can see in the mirror the way Seokjin’s jaw twitched after the man’s third comment about standing up straight, and Namjoon sees the way Hoseok squeezes at his knee to keep him quiet. Seokjin just tsks and sips at his drink while looking away. Hoseok smiles at him through the mirror, and Namjoon looks away.
Once the man is done, he bows shortly and goes to speak to Seokjin briefly while Hoseok comes up to him. “Let’s look at some options then,” he says with a smile, waving towards the racks.
Seokjin and Hosoek try to ask about Namjoon’s preferences, and he tries to be honest, like he told Seokjin he would be. But he doesn’t have much of a personal style outside of utility and budget. He never had to think about it before, never being in the right time or class to worry about the clothes on his back.
“Well, do you like what you’re wearing now?” Hoseok asks.
“I-” Namjoon stops to think about it. He wasn’t really thinking about the clothes that Seokjin had lent him. He supposed he liked them fine, just like he liked Jungkook’s clothes fine. “I like how soft the sweater is,” Namjoon says, feeling like the answer isn’t what they’re looking for.
“Good!” Hoseok says with a bright smile. “We can start there! It’s cold out anyways, so sweaters are a good first step.”
Seokjin smiles at him, and they pull him in that direction. They give him a few options, and while they all look the same to him on the hanger, they get him to try them on. He can tell some of the differences when they’re on, like how they hang off of his shoulders or stick to his arms, but some feel the same. Hoseok and Seokjin request that he show them each one and give them a rating, and they make little comments about the color against his skin or the length of the arms. He ends up picking a beige sweater they both really liked that he felt okay with and a black one that’s loose and baggy.
“And pants,” Hoseok says once they hand off the sweaters to their associate. “You’ve been wearing Kook’s jeans and then these slacks from Jin-hyung. Which do you like better?”
“Um,” Namjoon tries to think. “I don’t like when they touch me?” He tries to explain.
Seokjin nods like he understands. “That makes sense. Do you care about the fabric?”
“Not-” Namjoon clears his throat. “Not really.”
“Okay,” Hoseok hums. He goes through a few racks and pulls out a few different options. “Try these, and let us see.”
Namjoon goes on trying different cuts of jeans and other pants, and feels a little more like a piece of meat at the butcher shop showing Soekjin and Hoseok. They make comments about how small his waist looks, or how long his legs are, and on more than one occasion, he catches one or both of them staring low through the mirror. He picks two pairs of loose jeans in different washes and a pair of black slacks that he’s not super sold on but Hoseok and Seokjin seemed very sold on.
“We can be done now,” Seokjin says after they passed off the other items to the front.
“Really?” Namjoon squints, not fully believing they’ll let him free of this torment quite yet. He probably only has two outfits, but he could make different combinations of them to last a week, a short week.
“I did promise,” Seokjin pinches at his cheek. “And you were a good sport all day. I didn’t even have to promise to buy you ice cream like the others doing errands.”
Seokjin pays up front, getting the associate to throw in a couple of plain t-shirts in different colors to the order. Namjoon balks a little at the total, and immediately tries to push it out of his mind to not fester on it, and the man smiles at them widely and tells them to come again while Seokjin signs off.
Hoseok is leading their way out when Seokjin stops them. “I told Jiminie I would check on his glasses order. Just wait here for a moment, I’ll be right back,” he says while looking into a store with silver plating everywhere and gaudi looking glasses in the window.
Seokjin leaves, and Namjoon feels the awkwardness creep up his throat the longer he watches after him. Hoseok goes to sit on a bench not too far away, and Namjoon feels a little stupid standing there in the middle of the walkway. People were trying to pass by him, and his desire for people to stop looking at him because he’s so obviously in the way outweighs his desire to try and avoid Hoseok longer. So he goes over to join him.
He tries not to think about the last time they were like this, sitting on a bench with their attention solely on each other. But back then Hoseok didn’t know. He was probably the first one Namjoon ever kept the secret from, if only for a few minutes of peace. At first he kept it because he liked the idea of being someone in Hoseok’s mind, someone important, someone equal. He saw the twinkle in Hoseok’s eye when they met, and Namjoon wondered if that’s what it felt like to be loved, but even that got taken away from him eventually.
“It’s been a long time,” Hoseok hums after a minute. He’s not looking at Namjoon, instead looking out at the people that are walking by. He speaks low and steady, almost like Namjoon remembered, but he’s been wondering for years if he had always thought of Hoseok with pink tinted lenses.
“A century,” Namjoon agrees, not exaggerating.
“I always wondered where you had gone,” Hoseok says casually. Namjoon sucks in a quick breath, mostly out of muscle memory. This didn’t feel like it was going to be a casual conversation to him, even with the setting. “I’ve been wondering more now that I know the full story.” He hums again. “Well, more of it, I suppose.”
Namjoon doesn’t say anything, not really knowing what he’s supposed to respond. He’s sure that Jungkook had mentioned bits and pieces of their story. He knows that the coven probably has some sort of idea about how the last few decades had gone, but Namjoon never told Jungkook about anything before him. No one besides Namjoon knew what happened in the in-between, and he would rather keep it that way. He wants to be able to keep something to himself.
“Did they know?” Hoseok asks after a minute of silence. “About us?”
That was his first question? Namjoon didn’t even know why Hoseok was being so casual with him. He thinks that if their situations were reversed, he would be livid. A Turned? He would think with vile. He was talking to a Turned, laughing with them, touching them, and that Turned thought that they could take those liberties with him? He would be disgusted, and appalled, and would have marched to the coven and demand the Turned’s head for having the audacity.
Namjoon convinced himself of that every day back then.
Hoseok would be livid. And Namjoon would pay that price when it came.
As much as he wanted to keep the secret from Hoseok to keep that little bit of freedom he had, he also kept it to keep his own life.
“They did,” Namjoon says quietly, picking at his cuticle enough to tear at his skin. He tries not to think of the punishment he received after they found out that he was talking to a Born.
“They found out after the garden didn’t they?” Hoseok asks. Namjoon looks over at Hoseok then. He was looking at Namjoon, vaguely at that point, looking down towards Namjoon’s knees with a sort of sad smile on his face, as if remembering something bittersweet. “You always seemed sad after that.”
“They wanted me to-” Namjoon waves his hand around as if the words would appear. “Win you?” He asks with a questioning tilt. “They thought I could convince you to join their coven.”
Hoseok was part of a well respected coven then, born into the Jung family that had wealth, and status, and the age to back it up. Hoseok was one of the few members born into the family that was of courting age. And while Namjoon was bleeding on the floor holding onto his broken ribs, the vampires that owned him discussed how they were going to get an ugly Turned, like Namjoon, desirable enough to convince a beautiful born, like Hoseok, to join their coven. No one ever thought of what was going to happen once Hoseok figured out the ruse, but they never got that far anyways.
“A few weeks later, someone said you were promised to another coven,” Namjoon adds. “I thought they were going to kill me for ruining it,” he whispers into the floor.
Hoseok was quiet for a while, thinking, or reminiscing, or putting together the puzzle of their past together. Namjoon didn’t know. All he could think about was how they’re sitting on a bench, in some huge shopping mall that had Taehyung’s face plastered everywhere, while people milled about. A century ago, none of this was even an idea. A mall, an escalator, a Turned sitting on the same bench as a Born, Namjoon sitting with Hoseok with no secret between them.
“I was being courted by Yoongi-hyung back then,” Hoseok says. Namjoon didn’t know that. He’s looking at the line in Hoseok’s shoes thinking that Hoseok never even mentioned a coven courting him at all back then, to the point that Namjoon thought that whoever told him that made it up just to beat him dead. “It was just the hyungs in the coven. And Yoongi-hyung told me that I could ask for whatever I wanted as a promising gift, and I told him that there was someone I really liked and I wanted to bring him one day.”
“Who?” Namjoon asked suddenly, reeling from the idea that Hoseok hid a whole courting coven and a second person from him. He almost felt betrayed by the idea, as if he had the right to be, still holding onto the idea that Hoseok might have loved him, wanted to keep him.
Hoseok smiled at him lightly, and sadly. “You,” Hoseok said, like it was obvious, like it should have been, and Namjoon feels both delighted and stupid at his answer. Hoseok finally reaches out to touch him. He reaches out to Namjoon’s shoulder and runs his fingers down the seam of Namjoon’s arm. Namjoon could almost feel the heat from his fingertips run down his bicep, lighting up goosebumps in their wake. “Seems like there’s been a place saved for you in this coven for a long time, Joon-ah.”