Seokjin quickly looks back down at his plate. His hand curls tightly around his chopsticks. His eyes are still wide and he can’t believe what he just saw – who he just saw.That wasn’t Namjoon. No. No way. Nope.The Namjoon of his memories was thin and gangly and had standard, nondescript black hair. The person at the end of the table isn’t thin, isn’t gangly, and has blonde hair. That wasn’t Namjoon. Seokjin swallows hard, and slowly puts down his chopsticks to touch his closed fist to his heart, to stop it from reacting so strangely.It’s weird. He hasn’t thought about Namjoon in a long, long time. Years. So why is the thought of him making his heart race?

“Huh,” Namjoon frowns a little, cross his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side. “Boys liking boys is weird.”

Seokjin doesn’t ask how Namjoon got his number, and he doesn’t ask why he’s never texted before when they’ve been friends since they were five. He doesn’t ask if they could even be considered friends when they haven’t spoken in several months. He doesn’t ask if that was his fault, or if it was Namjoon’s.They talk everyday after that. Seokjin finds it a little weird but he doesn’t say it is to Namjoon. He responds to Namjoon and keeps up with the conversation without sounding bored. He isn’t bored. But he’s scared that he comes across like he is.It’s not that Seokjin doesn’t want to text with Namjoon – it’s just that it’s a little weird and Seokjin’s never really texted out entire conversations with his guy friends before because most of their conversations were had in group chats. This felt different. This felt like they were whispering to each other, like no one was meant to know what they’re talking about, or that they were talking at all.

“But it’s you, Seokjin. It’s always been you. So I’m not worried.”

“I’ve cried a lot these past few years, Kim Seokjin. Over you.”

“I loved you, as a friend,” Namjoon says, both hands on Seokjin’s arms to comfort him. “That wasn’t a lie. You were my best friend. I loved you with all my heart, Seokjin. But it took… it took being separated from you during high school to realise what that love really was.”

His voice sounds foreign to him. It doesn’t sound like his own. He doesn’t know whose voice it sounds like – all he knows is that he hates it and himself for speaking. “And boys liking boys is weird.

“I tried to stay in contact with you. I really didn’t want to lose you, Seokjin. Not you. But you’re the one who stopped talking to me when I wanted to see you,” he admits. There’s not a trace of humiliation on his face even as he confidently opens himself up to Seokjin, as he lays his vulnerability out bare for Seokjin to look at. Seokjin doesn’t know how he does it, or how it must feel. He wonders if it feels like pain. He wonders if it’s got something to do with love, and if Seokjin will ever understand it. “I really, really wanted to see you.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin whispers, and he looks away because watching that concerned look on Namjoon’s face is painful – it hurts exactly where it’s been hurting all this time whenever he thought of Namjoon. He tries not to think about it, he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t hurt, he tries to tell himself that he doesn’t owe love to Namjoon and that Namjoon doesn’t owe love to him and that he isn’t heartbroken and that –

Seokjin digs up all these little pieces of Namjoon left behind in his heart and those pieces run away from him, leaving holes in his heart that he can’t fill. It’s a bleeding mess; and Seokjin wants nothing more than to patch things up, but it hurts to come too close, let alone touch.

“But I haven’t looked at a sausage in the eye since 2007 and I intend to keep it that way,”

He doesn’t even want to think about it: because Seokjin thinks that if anyone gets to dance with Namjoon, it should be him.They’re best friends after all.Right?

And nothing’s changed – because he still thinks that whatever the definition of love turns out to be, it must start or end with Namjoon.

He parts his lips to say something to Namjoon. To make a joke, to laugh out loud at him – but he stops himself because they’re not best friends anymore. They’re not even friends. Seokjin doesn’t get to laugh and make fun of Namjoon for being clumsy, anymore. He doesn’t get to enjoy witnessing Namjoon’s personality anymore, he doesn’t get to enjoy being in his presence anymore, he doesn’t get to laugh and pretend like he wasn’t the one who let go, first, anymore –

Does Seokjin know Namjoon inside out anymore, or even at all? Probably not. Are they still best friends, or even friends at all? Unlikely. Does Seokjin get to miss Namjoon the way Namjoon says he missed Seokjin? Does Seokjin deserve to miss him? Does Seokjin deserve to be missed?There might’ve been a time that Namjoon meant something to Seokjin. But that time is over. It’s been over for a while. If Seokjin was the one who let go, first, does he still deserve to be held onto by Namjoon?Why didn’t Namjoon let go?And why does Seokjin want to reach out his hand, once more?

Namjoon walks closer to him, and Seokjin walks back without thinking. His back hits the wall again. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get your attention all this time.”

Seokjin can’t keep doing this to himself, he can’t keep digging up memories and feelings he’s been subconsciously trying to drown and suffocate these past few years, so he keeps his head down and convinces himself not to look in that direction anymore.

At seven PM, Seokjin follows Hoseok and even more newfound friends to another place to eat and drink. He tries to convince himself that it’s okay because this time, there’s so many more of them here and Hoseok promised it’ll be an outing to get to know each other. They’re at a family restaurant eating grilled meat and drinking soju. Seokjin really doesn’t want to get drunk two nights in a row, so he keeps his bottle of water with him at all times and reminds himself to drink from that instead of the green glass bottles in front of him.

He thinks about Namjoon, just once. He thinks about whether Namjoon’s happy, if he’s studying hard, if he’s happy. If he’s still as gangly and thin and meek as he was back in middle school. If he loves someone, if someone loves him. Seokjin’s mind goes dark. He doesn’t know why he thinks about that. He stops himself from thinking about Namjoon.After all, Seokjin doesn’t owe love to Namjoon.

Seokjin wonders where it all went wrong. He wonders why it even matters. He convinces himself that it doesn’t.Sometime in their second year of high school, Namjoon asks Seokjin if they could meet. Seokjin doesn’t reply.And Namjoon doesn’t try again. Seokjin doesn’t try at all.He convinces himself that it doesn’t matter.

it’s different to how Seokjin remembers it to be, back when they were fourteen. It’s a little deeper, a little lower.

“Well, I love you,” Namjoon tells him, and Seokjin’s mouth goes dry. His lips part and his eyes widen, and he doesn’t know if Namjoon picks up on his reaction because he quickly explains himself, and says, “as a friend.”

Namjoon had apparently brought a spare controller with him. He remembered that Seokjin doesn’t have any siblings. Seokjin doesn’t say anything about it.

Seokjin nods slowly. “Sure. Tell me what you want when you’ve decided on something,” he says, and he holds a hand out to Namjoon. Namjoon looks down at it like it’s something foreign for just long enough that Seokjin starts to feel awkward and wants to bring his hand back to himself before he finally reaches out and takes Seokjin’s hand. His grip is light. They shake hands.

“Well, if you don’t know what you want, I can’t give you anything,” Seokjin replies casually, turning his nose up lightly.

They’re in middle school, now, and their group of friends is bigger than just the two of them. There’s a whole group of them – they all gather together during lunch time and they all eat together and they’re all very loud and they always have fun. They stick together when they go home, too, and the group thins out as their friends head off one by one until it’s just Seokjin and Namjoon left, walking together. Their homes are close. Namjoon doesn’t invite him over.

Seokjin really doesn’t know what love is. He decides to himself that he’ll never say it again to anyone.