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yūgen / yoo-ghen / n. an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words. -----
"nams? i'm back."
"he's taking a nap," an unfamiliar voice returns, and yoongi freezes in his tracks. "but it's been an hour, so he'll be up soon— mr. kim rarely sleeps past one rem cycle."
mr. kim? turning around, yoongi stares dubiously at the stranger in his and namjoon's living room. "and you are?"
"sorry, that was rude of me." approaching him, the man holds out a hand. "park jimin," he introduces himself with a soft smile, dressed down in a sweater and tracks; he still somehow looks like he could be coming off a magazine cover. "you must be his best friend and roommate. i'm mr. kim's new live-in personal assistant; it's a pleasure to meet you."
“yeah?” namjoon asks. “what is it, jiminie. tell me what you need,” he says, and all of that thick complication from earlier bubbles to the surface, enough for Jimin to finally understand what it is.
want. longing. something desperate.
all of it festering inside jimin.
“namjoon,” jimin whispers, winding his arms around namjoon’s neck. “kiss me like you love me.”
or, jimin just wanted to know how namjoon fucks—but ends up uncovering more actual feelings than he knows what to do with.
namjoon wonders if jimin's eyes were made of moonlight.
“the most merciful thing in the world, i think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents... some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.” ― h.p. lovecraft
from the prompt: "i work at a vet clinic and you work for the mafia. you started coming in to get patched up and threatened me to not to turn you into the police. little do you know that i remember you as my high school crush, and you have no need to threaten me, because i'm still charmed by you."
“jimin?” jin’s voice suddenly went deathly serious and he knew, he knew.
“i…” he trailed off.
he looked out of the door at the lashing of rain and stepped out into it. he told jin the name of the hospital without any further explanation, hanging up the phone. he couldn't say the words. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he sent his boyfriend out into this weather, broken, alone, and now he was in the hospital.
it was all his fault.
sometimes namjoon thought happiness was simple. that maybe it did boil down to something called love. maybe it was having people around you who supported you, maybe it was making a difference in other people’s lives, even people you never met, making them feel less alone. other times he was pretty sure it was cyclical, or maybe like waves, ups and downs, not good or bad but both. because it helped ease the guilt that swept over him for feeling less than happy when he thought about how much he had and how he still could feel empty, alone, not truly seen. not loved, even by himself.
“so what is it about this curtain dude that you’re killing him for?” yoongi asks, some of the sleep finally fading from his voice.
“no clue,” jimin says. the sun is just beginning to fully rise, the sky graduating from the dismal gray into a color spectrum of early fire. “doesn’t really matter to me. kill the fucker, get paid.”
“whatever helps you sleep at night,” yoongi mumbles.
(alternatively: jimin and yoongi are assassins with targets that they're not supposed to get attached to. naturally, at this inopportune moment, they develop a conscience and forget the most basic rule of killing for money: don't get invested.)
namjoon is a witch with too much power and hands too clumsy to hold it. jimin is the son of the sun, given to the witch by his father in order to save him.
but as jimin learns about the world, he also learns to love.
jimin is a medic and namjoon is a lieutenant who becomes blind after a bombing