"No," Jin breathed, twisting his hands together. He did yet another full circuit around the perimeter of the van for the fourth time, this time pausing at every wheel well to duck down and check under the chassis (just in case, even though it didn't make any sense) and inspecting every centimeter of the top rack for any sign of what couldn't possibly be there. "No no no no no no no no no no no—"

"Maybe he really did ride on top," Jimin said, in a cracking voice, cellphone in hand. "You - I mean you told him he couldn't, you didn't say he wasn't allowed—"

"Yeah but would he take that as a challenge?" Jin moaned, going around the van again to open every door and lift up bags and blankets and pillows just in case he missed something the first three times. "He wouldn't." Then he glanced up, a flash of terror playing over his face. "... Would he?"

"Yes," Jimin and Jeongguk said at the same time. Jeongguk's face twisted in thought. "Yeah. Yeah, he definitely would."

"Ohhh my god." Jin covered his face with both hands and sucked in several harsh, shallow breaths. "Oh my god. Oh my god, this is my worst nightmare. Joonie, god, please—"

"I'm calling," Namjoon said, voice grim. He was hanging out of the front passenger side window, one arm dangling and the other holding his phone to his ear. "It just keeps ringing and ringing and going to voicemail."

"I, uh..." Yoongi shifted awkwardly. "I... told him to turn his phone down." He winced as Jin and Namjoon both whipped their heads around to glare at him, throwing up both hands in a defensive posture. "Jimin was asleep, and he was playing this game and it was super loud—"

"He plays those games all the time, babe," Jimin moaned, leaning his forehead against his boyfriend's shoulder. "I've learned to sleep through it!"

"Well I didn't know, it was just all—"

Hoseok held his hands up on a soothing gesture, palms out, fingers splayed. "It's okay," he said. "Yoongi-hyung didn't know. Let's just take a deep breath and calm—"

"Tae is out there," Jin said, voice high and strangled as he gestured frantically at the open road - cars whizzing by on the expressway, rice fields stretching out in every direction bordered by rolling mountains - turning in a circle as though he wasn't sure where to go. "He's out there, somewhere, possibly bleeding to death in a ditch—"

"Hello?" Namjoon waved a hand desperately at Jin, phone pressed to his ear, face pale. "Y-yeah, yeah - I mean, yes, this is Kim Seokjin's phone, he's here with me, what—"

Jin skidded over the gravel of the expressway shoulder so quickly that he came to a stop by slamming into the side of the van next to Namjoon. "Who is it?!"

"Yes, I'm one of Kim Taehyung's friends," Namjoon stuttered, raking a hand through his hair, "where—" Whatever blood remained in his face seemed to vacate, and he glanced up at Jin with wide eyes. "He what?"

Jin clasped a hand to his mouth and let out a mewl of panic.

"Yeah, yeah, y-yes, of course," Namjoon stammered out, gesturing frantically at everyone gathered on the side of the expressway to get back in the van. "Yes, it's not - absolutely no problem, we can - yeah. Yes. Yes sir. I understand." He ended the call. Swallowed. Looked up into Jin's face.

"What," Jin said flatly, face scrunched up behind his hands. "Just - just give it to me straight."

"We..." Namjoon trailed off, staring back down at the phone as if unsure what to say. "We have to go back."

NAMJOON
About eight months ago

It was August and Namjoon and Jin were the first ones to arrive at the house after summer break because they always were, so for at least another three days it would just be them puttering around the house. Namjoon was spending his time making sure that all the study schedules were set up, the chore chart was ready; Jin spending his time restocking the fridge, making sure all of the dishes and pots and pans were clean, doing load after load after load of laundry to make sure everybody at least had somewhere to sleep when they (eventually) started piling in through the front door, dragging luggage and backpacks and books and leftovers tans in from the tail-end of summer.

Right now the laundry was going and they were both camped out on one of the old couches in the basement - the summer heat was still hitting Seoul hard, and even with a million fans and a thousand ice-cold water bottles their top-floor bedrooms were like ovens while the basement was a cool reprieve.

"We should do something," Jin said after about half an hour of silence, turning a page on the magazine he was reading. "For spring break."

Namjoon glanced down. They were in one of the juxtapositions that they always seemed to fall into: Namjoon leaning against one arm of the couch with a book or his tablet or his phone in his hands, Jin stretched out over the length of the couch with one leg kicked up over the back and his head pillowed on Namjoon's thigh as he read or slept or played a game on his DS. (He'd beaten Princess Peach while doing laundry the day before, and now had resorted to a Nintendo-centric video game magazine instead.)

"'Something,'" Namjoon echoed cautiously, scrolling through instagram again in the vain, lazy hope that someone had updated since the last time he'd looked. (Ah. Jimin had posted something - aaand it was a photo of his abs. Yoongi had already liked it, and left a comment reading don't be so greasy.) "What do you mean by 'something?'"

"I mean Hoseok-ah's aunt owns a big beach house down in Yeosu," Jin continued lazily. Namjoon didn't have to see his face to know that his eyes were half closed, his lips slightly pursed and barely parted. His breath had been slowing and deepening almost since they'd sat back down on the couch after finishing the last of the chores they'd put on their list for the day, and honestly by the time Jin had spoken up Namjoon had been expecting him to be very nearly asleep. "Just outside of Yeosu. On the ocean. Last year we just did whatever, but don't you think it would be nice to do something with everybody?"

"Nice," Namjoon repeated after him, still feeling a little unsteady about the idea. "Yeah, it'd be... it'd be nice. Have you talked to Hoseok about—"

"He actually brought it up," Jin interrupted, turning a page and licking his lips. "Last year. We all came back for spring term and he was talking about how he wished we'd gone to her place down in Yeosu. I don't know—" He shrugged with one shoulder, the back of his neck slipping a little on the denim of Namjoon's jeans. "It just seems like it might be nice, doing something with everybody when we don't have to worry about school and grades and projects and whatever the whole time. We could just relax. Get to know each other, I suppose."

"Team building exercise." Namjoon looked back down at his phone so he didn't have to look down at Jin's face like an idiot (Jimin had commented back: im not greasy!! im just pretty and Yoongi had come back with not exactly mutually exclusive concepts there bro - could these two make the flirting any more obvious?) and swallowed, suddenly incredibly conscious of how his left hand was resting over Jin's clavicles. "Could be fun. Yeah, let's talk about it. If everybody's in we should look into it."

Jin tipped his head up, eyes twinkling a little as his mouth pursed in a tiny, funny smile. He held up one hand, pinky extended. "Carte blanche?"

Namjoon laughed - and reached out, hooking his own pinky around Jin's. "Have you ever failed me before? Yeah. Sure. Carte blanche."

NAMJOON
March, seven am, Sunday after Winter Term

Beta Tau Sigma had been a fraternity for four years, Namjoon had been in leadership for three years, and every single time he'd given Jin carte blanche on anything (a group project, a party, a new pledge, paint colors for the ground floor bathroom) Namjoon had never ever once regretted it. Giving Jin carte blanche was almost like... like signing a blank check that every bank would take but he'd never have to work for the money. It was like getting a guarantee for free. It was like - well, it was like giving Jin carte blanche, which meant everything got done and everything went smoothly and Namjoon didn't have to worry about any single aspect of it whatsoever.

Jin didn't ask for carte blanche very frequently. As far as Namjoon was concerned Jin didn't ask for it nearly enough - everything seemed to go infinitely more smoothly when Jin was the one bossing everybody around. (Or, all right, maybe it just seemed like that from the outside. Namjoon was willing to accept that was a possibility.) But he'd asked for it (and it had been granted) to plan spring break, and so it was that on the Sunday morning after Winter term ended Namjoon and Jin were in their shared bathroom, side by side in front of the mirror, wishing like hell that they weren't awake yet.

Okay. Fine. Jin didn't give a shit about being awake at ass-thirty in the goddamn morning, but Namjoon gave roughly five billion shits. His shits, he felt, had been thoroughly shat, and he fully intended on voicing his disapproval for the umpteenth goddamn time.

"I cannot believe," Namjoon mumbled, "that you convinced me to get up at seven. In the morning. On a Sunday."

Jin gargled his mouthwash excessively before spitting it out into the sink on his end of the counter, filling a glass with water from the tap as he glanced up to meet Namjoon's eye cheekily in the mirror. "Carte blanche," he said simply, taking a swig of water and swishing it through his teeth before spitting that out as well.

Carte blanche. God motherfucking damn carte blanche. For the first goddamn time, Namjoon was regretting giving Jin carte blanche.

"Carte blanche," he growled back, snatching his toothbrush out of its holder and sticking it under the tap a touch more violently than was strictly necessary. "Remind me how carte blanche means you get to pull me out of my warm bed at seven fucking o'clock on a Sunday morning?"

"Carte blanche," Jin intoned, holding up one forefinger imperiously as he reached for his electric razor with his free hand. "Noun. From the French for white page, first appearing with its currently wide-held definition of full discretionary power in the mid-1700s."

Namjoon glared at him in the mirror for a second before popping his toothbrush out of his mouth. "Did you look all that up," he sputtered, foam flying, "just to shut me up when I complained?"

"Mhm." The razor clicked on and Jin arched his eyebrows coyly at Namjoon in the mirror. "Brush your teeth, Joonie. It's a long drive to Yeosu and we need to get on the road by eight if we're going to make it there by dark."

Namjoon glowered at himself in the mirror, toothpaste splattered over the glass in front of him, on the counter, a little bit down the shirt he'd slept in from when he'd irritably accused Jin of unnecessary extracurricular research for the sole purpose of shutting down his inevitable whining.

It had been about six weeks since that stupid Valentine's Day weekend, when Jin had (apparently) talked to Jin Hyosang at that stupid goddamn Tau Delta party and then 'found his own way home' and Namjoon had ended up making what was possibly the most egregious miscalculation of his entire unfortunate life. It had been about six weeks since Namjoon had gotten under that girl in the VIP section of Woo Jiho's newest club, bought her a drink and acted like he wanted it until his head had shut everything down with the memory of Jin's collarbones filling him up with electricity. It had been about six weeks since Namjoon had found out that the guy in his shower that horrible Saturday morning had been Jin's goddamn cousin and he'd had a truly humiliating existential crisis over literally nothing.

It had been about six weeks, and things were... they were mostly back to normal. Namjoon kept catching himself watching Jin a little bit too long, thinking about Jin's word choices a little too hard, avoiding Jin a little more than he ever would have thought of doing before. The first four weeks had been ridiculous, he'd barely been able to look Jin in the eye, but now things were mostly back to normal.

Inasmuch as sharing a bathroom, a countertop, a mirror was normal. He'd never thought about it before (it had never seemed strange before) but with the revelation that nearly everyone in the frat had thought that he and Jin were secretly fucking Namjoon found himself noticing the undertones of something in almost everything he did, everything they did. They shared a bathroom in a manner so incredibly domestic that it reminded Namjoon of his parents. They argued over dinner like he'd seen his grandparents do countless times. When the kids started getting out of hand at the dinner table Jin would look up and find Namjoon's gaze and they'd hold entire silent conversations on whose turn it was to be the bad guy this time.

Maybe the worst part about things going back to normal (inasmuch as all of this was normal) was how much Namjoon liked it. It was comfortable. It was good. It was different than it was seven weeks ago - Namjoon noticed, now, every time he saw Jin in the morning and recognized one of his old t-shirts hanging loose around Jin's trim waist - but it was so easy and solid that they slipped back into it and Namjoon hated the thought of anything changing any more than it had to.

Somewhere on one of the floors below there was a thumping noise, and a sudden, distressed shout.

Namjoon and Jin met each other's eyes in the mirror instinctively, and it was just luck of the draw that Jin was shaving while Namjoon still had his toothbrush crammed back against his molars, so all Jin had to do was lower the razor for a second in order to say, "not it."

"Fuck," Namjoon spluttered, bending over to spit the foam into his sink. "Why do I have to go take care of this? I thought you had carte blanche. Doesn't that mean—"

Jin reached out and tousled Namjoon's bleached hair affectionately, dropping his jaw to drag the electric razor over his cheek. "You're the president," he said, raising his voice over the buzz of the razor. "Take responsibility, dad."

"I am not," Namjoon growled, wiping his mouth on a towel, "their dad."

"You're kind of their dad," Jin yelled after him, razor still humming as Namjoon stomped out of the bathroom. "You're a good father, Joonie."

Namjoon raised both middle fingers over his shoulders like flags as he exited the bathroom, Jin's laugh following him out into his bedroom, to the bedroom door, over the threshold into the hallway. The thumping from down the stairs had mostly subsided, but there was still a little bit of muffled yelling - echoing strangely somehow. Maybe the bathroom...?

He tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs and skidded to a stop outside of the bathroom door, staring down the doorknob for a second. The last time he'd burst into a room on the second floor he'd interrupted Yoongi and Jimin in the middle of what had appeared to be getting to know each other extremely well, and now there was thumping and yelling emanating from the bathroom and he couldn't bring himself to open the door.

He raised one fist and rapped his knuckles sharply against the wood, holding onto the slim hope that he wasn't inadvertently disrupting anyone's morning sex. "Hello?" he called out nervously through the door. "Is everything okay in there? I heard yelling." Silence. "Guys?"

The door swung open and Jimin appeared at the opening, cheeks flushed and eyes shining and grin huge over his face. "Hyung!" he gasped, short of breath. (He was wearing clothes, and they were all rightside out. That was promising.) "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, don't worry about it—"

"Namjoon-hyung!!" It was Jeongguk's voice, strangled and desperate from within the depths of the bathroom, echoing as though he was shouting into a bowl. Jimin's grin seemed to stretch even wider, if such a thing were possible - his eyes disappearing with almost malicious glee. "Namjoon-hyung please save me they're—"

"You signed the contract!" That was Taehyung, sounding slightly unhinged and barely able to keep his breath from laughter. "You signed the contract, Kookie!"

"What the fuck," Namjoon said, shoving the door open despite Jimin's futile attempts at keeping it closed, "is going on in here?"

"I want to be perfectly clear," Taehyung announced calmly, one hand on the back of Jeongguk's neck to hold his head over the sink, the other holding up an electric razor that looked just very slightly more wicked than the one Jin was using on his own face just upstairs. "Kookie was entirely sober when he signed the contract."

"I was hung over," Jeongguk moaned into the sink. "I don't think that counts as being entirely sober."

"He was drunk on his own hubris," Jimin sighed theatrically, pressing one hand to his heart.

"What contract are we talking about here?" Namjoon glared down at the back of Jeongguk's head. "And please tell me you didn't use any of my bleach for that."

"I bought my own," Taehyung chirped brightly, leaning his weight down a little harder on Jeongguk's back as the struggling increased. "Kookie and I made a bet, back in January. Whoever got the best grades would get to do the other's hair."

"No one told me," Jeongguk whined, scrambling ineffectually on the porcelain. "No one told me his GPA!"

There was a curious tug on Namjoon's sleeve, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a freshly shaved Jin peering curiously around him into the bathroom. (Ah, damn. Jin had changed into the Yoshi sweater Namjoon had gotten him for christmas and his hands swam adorably in the over-long cuffs. Namjoon didn't have time to stand here swooning over how cute Jin was.) "Do I want to know what's going on?" Jin sighed, leaning around the door jamb.

Namjoon stepped aside, half to make room for Jin to poke his head through the opening and half to retain a little distance between them. "Tae and Kookie," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door jamb, "signed a contract. Gambling over who'd get the best grades over Winter term."

"No," Jin said, eyes going wide as his gaze flickered from Jeongguk's freshly-bleached hair to the look on Taehyung's face to the clippers in his free hand. "Tae—"

"All the color is temporary," Taehyung said quickly. "It'll wash out in like a week, tops."

"Tae," Jin said again, voice hard. "Tae. What were your grades?"

"Straight A's," Taehyung chirped. "Got a four point oh, just like every term for the last year and a half."

"And Kookie?"

"Three point nine-nine," Jeongguk moaned forlornly into the sink, his voice reverberating like the cry of a beagle at the bottom of a well. "I don't get it. I don't get it."

"Tae hasn't gotten anything less than an A since the first - and last - term he dipped under the house guidelines," Namjoon sighed, scrubbing a hand over his head, raking his fingers through his hair. "And you signed a contract?"

Jin shoved past him into the bathroom, snatching a small plastic tub off of the back of the toilet tank, glaring down at it as Taehyung squawked in protest. "Is this green? Are you seriously planning on dyeing our new pledge's hair green, Tae?"

"Just the top!" Taehyung waved a hand over the crown of his head in a vague illustrative gesture. "See I'm gonna shave a diamond pattern into the back and sides, and then the top is gonna be green—"

"A pineapple," Jimin cackled.

In the sink, Jeongguk wept bitter tears of regret.

Namjoon and Jin looked at each other. Heaved identical sighs. Very, very slowly brought their hands to their faces at the exact same time.

"Carte blanche," Namjoon said after a second, voice muffled in the palm of his hand. "This one is on you, Jin."

"Noooooooo!" Taehyung stomped his foot, eyes going huge with dismay. "Jin-hyung never lets us do anything fun, you can't—"

"No you can't," Jin interrupted, shoving the jar of green hair dye into Namjoon's waiting hands as he moved past him out of the bathroom. "We need to be on the road in half an hour, we don't have time for you to finish getting ready and dye Jeongguk's hair green."

"Thank god," Jeongguk whimpered into the sink.

"Does that mean I can do it when we get back?" Taehyung hollered desperately after Jin's retreating form.

"If you behave in the car," Jin yelled over his shoulder as he mounted the stairs up to the top floor, "you can dye his hair while we're on vacation."

Namjoon pointed at Taehyung. "If you behave," he echoed, heading back up the stairs after Jin.

Taehyung considered this for a second - then shrugged, releasing his death grip on the back of Jeongguk's neck. "That's fair," he said. "Thanks, Dad!"

"I'm not your dad!" Namjoon yelled over his shoulder.

"You're kind of their dad," Jin yelled from behind his bedroom door.

"Fuck." Namjoon scrubbed his hands over his face.

He was totally their dad.

JIN

"Okay," Jin said, staring into the back of the van with his chin cupped thoughtfully in one hand. "Okay. We can figure this out."

"This wouldn't be such a big deal if we just had less junk," Yoongi grumbled from where he stood, leaning against the luggage piled up very, very carefully under the back hatch - pushing his weight against the stack to keep it from tumbling out onto the driveway. "Why the hell we got so much goddamn shit?"

Jin shot him a Look. "Seven people," he said coolly. "Seven days. Unpredictable weather. We all need clothes for warm weather, cool weather, cold weather - clothes for layering, clothes for sleeping, clothes for swimming—"

"What if next year," Taehyung cut in brightly, "we just went to a nudist colony?"

"No," Yoongi and Jin said at the same time, not even looking at him.

"Why? It could be fun, and then we wouldn't have to worry about—"

"Tae," Namjoon interrupted, walking by with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, tousling Taehyung's hair as he moved past. "No nudist colonies. We've talked about this."

"It wouldn't really be a vacation anyway," Yoongi sneered, rolling his eyes. "Hoseok already basically treats our room as his own private nudist colony."

"Okay that was once," Hoseok yelled from the front yard, around the corner of the house. "And I thought you were asleep."

"Doesn't make me any less fuckin' traumatized!" Yoongi shouted back, leaning forward. The luggage shifted dangerously and he slammed backward again to steady it. "Seriously hyung we gotta figure this out so we can get on the road. There're seven of us now and unless somebody wants to ride on the top rack—"

"I can ride on the top rack!" Taehyung chirped excitedly. "Couple bungee cords, a pair of goggles, maybe a helmet with a couple fins for ideal aerodynamic effect—"

"No," Jin choked out, pushing Taehyung toward the van. "You can't ride on the top rack, Tae. It's not possible. Get in and buckle up."

One of the side-doors of the van slid open and Jimin poked his head out, blinking innocently in the early morning sunlight. "Hyung," he said lightly, setting one sneakered foot on the driveway to bend around the back of the van and fix Yoongi with a beaming, crescent-eyed smile. "Don't you want to sit on my lap?"

There was a moment of awkward tension. "Okay," Yoongi said finally, going red from the ears in and staring down at his feet.

Namjoon and Jin shot each other sidelong glances and tight-lipped smiles, the matching expressions on their faces carefully blank and yet somehow still carrying a wealth of information. "I guess that settles it," Jin sighed, rubbing his hands together in a gesture of both satisfaction at a problem solved as well as a form of washing his hands of the situation. "Let's just... let's just get going, all right? Has everyone gone to the bathroom?"

"Kookie's still in there," Taehyung said, hauling himself up into the van as the rest of the group chorused yeses in long-suffering voices. "He said he'd be down in a second."

Jin glanced up at the sky. It was late March now and the weather had started warming up already, the breeze bringing only a hint of chill and the soft, crisp smell of new growth. The house had been relatively calm over the past month even with the addition of a seventh inhabitant taking over a third of the space in what had been Jimin and Taehyung's double room - Jeongguk seemed to fold in naturally with the rest of them so gently and effectively that now Jin would be hard-pressed to think of what the frat would be like without him. Namjoon had been strange for a while in a way that Jin had originally chalked up to dissertation stress until he'd had an exceptionally successful meeting with his advisor and still had bailed on their weekly movie night - claiming that he had too much work to do even as he couldn't quite manage to look Jin in the eye as he spoke.

Besides that strange imbalance everything seemed... it was fine. It was good. Back in August Namjoon had given him carte blanche to plan this spring break trip and (as it had every time Namjoon had given him carte blanche) it had gone perfectly swimmingly. Every detail was outlined, every tragedy en potentia preemptively circumvented, a first aid kit tucked under every seat and everyone's phone fully charged. Jin had personally overseen the packing of every piece of luggage just in case and now, finally, finals were over and grades were in and everybody had retained their GPA and they were ready.

"Just come out of the bathroom," Hoseok was yelling, voice reverberating oddly as he shouted in through the front door from where he (presumably) stood on the front porch. "Kookie, seriously, we gotta go—"

"Maybe you should sit on my lap," Yoongi said suddenly, making one last shove against the stacked up luggage and scrambling for the back hatch to slam it down before anything fell out. "I mean, I'm older than you, so—"

"I'm heavier than you, babe," Jimin interrupted easily. "Don't worry, it'll be okay. And we can switch if it gets uncomfortable."

Yoongi tightened up for half a second, hand hovering of the latch. "Y-yeah," he said. "That's true. Um."

"Babe?" Jin mouthed almost silently to Namjoon, ducking around him to shove another water bottle into the middle console in the front. Namjoon just blushed and shrugged a little.

Hoseok skidded around the side of the house, looking gleeful and wild-eyed. "Guys," he hissed. "You're not gonna believe this. This is so fuckin' good. Jeongguk's hair is—"

"—bright yellow," Jin said over his shoulder. Hoseok deflated slightly. "We already know. Get in the van, Hoseok-ah."

"Wait," Yoongi sputtered, hanging from the open side door of the van. "What do you mean his hair's bright yellow?"

Jeongguk shoved the hood of his red sweatshirt up over his head sullenly. "I lost a bet," he muttered, pushing past Yoongi to slide into the van.

"And you look beautiful," Taehyung cooed sweetly.

"Whatever." Jeongguk buckled his seatbelt and then pulled the drawstrings on his hood as tight as they would go so only the tip of his nose poked out.

Jin and Namjoon traded a look. "Carte blanche," Namjoon said.

Jin bapped him on the arm. "That's not applicable here. Get in the van."

Taehyung leaned forward. "Is Namjoon-hyung gonna drive this time?"

The chorus of "no"s was deafening.

JEONGGUK

Jeongguk was calm. Cool. Relaxed. He could do this. This? This was nothing. This was a piece of cake, no problem, he could do this shit with his eyes closed. He could do this one-handed. He could do this for hours. This was... this was...

"Motherfucking cock bag shit fuck asshole shitting fuck," he hissed, as the plush toy dropped sadly out of the claw. "I don't get it. I don't get it, this thing is so fucking stupid a child could do this—"

"Well there's your problem," Taehyung commented lightly, pulling his grape-flavored lollipop out of his mouth as he watched Jeongguk shove another thousand won coin into the slot and start up the game again. "Yoongi-hyung says you're a fetus. Pretty sure fetuses don't really got the fine motor control required by this kinda complex machinery."

"I'm not in the mood, Tae. God damn it—" The game sang a sad little song as the prize tumbled once more from the clutches of the claw.

"There are kids around, Kookie. You shouldn't swear so much."

They'd been on the road for nearly three hours already (the traffic out of Seoul had been abysmal) and were now in the arcade of a massive, sprawling rest area about a few kilometers north of Nonsan. Namjoon had taken the opportunity to stock up on caffeinated drinks, Hoseok had taken this opportunity to find a Dance Dance Revolution machine and completely monopolize it, Yoongi and Jimin had apparently taken the opportunity to have twenty minutes in the van by themselves, and Jin had taken the opportunity to eat absolutely every single thing on the food court menu. He ate quickly (Namjoon sitting across the table from him reading a book and reminding him what time it was every once in a while) but still both Taehyung and Jeongguk knew that it would be a while before they'd be back on the road.

Up until this moment Jeongguk had firmly believed that he could beat any game. Give him enough time, enough coins, enough practice, and nothing could withstand him. Some games took longer than others, sure, but he'd never yet come up against a game that he hadn't been able to best after only a few tries.

Maybe losing that bet against Taehyung had shaken his confidence? Maybe he'd never be the same again? Maybe this was all Taehyung's fault, and now Jeongguk would be relegated to being simply above average for the rest of his miserable—

"Cocking fuckhole shit," Jeongguk growled under his breath, thumping the control panel of the game as the prize dropped, yet again, far short of its intended destination.

"Bro, seriously." Taehyung rolled his eyes meaningfully and shifted his lollipop from one cheek to the other. "You're gonna get us kicked out. Also you really gotta stop spending so much time with Yoongi-hyung, I don't think even he would come up with this kind—"

"This game sucks," Jeongguk said, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's rigged. It's rigged! It's gotta be rigged, there's no fucking way—"

"I'll try it," Taehyung interrupted smoothly, tugging Jeongguk gently away from the game. "Which prize you want? I'll see if I can get it for you."

"Good fucking luck." Jeongguk glanced up at the look on Taehyung's face - hopeful, worried, a little bit contrite. Marred only slightly by the vaguely pornographic bulge in his cheek from the lollipop. "I - I don't care. It's stupid."

"I'll see if I can getcha the Iron Man," Taehyung said smoothly, pushing Jeongguk back towards the cafeteria area of the rest stop. "Go chill out with mom and dad for a bit. A'right?"

"Okay," Jeongguk mumbled sullenly under his breath, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "You're not gonna get it," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Taehyung called back, boxy grin stretching wide over his face as he slipped a coin into the machine and wiggled the joystick experimentally. "But I'll try anything for you, Kookie!"

They'd been on the road for twenty minutes before Jeongguk looked up from his phone. Blinked. Glanced over the inhabitants of the van... "Where's Tae?" he said suddenly.

"Tae's asleep in the back," Jin yelled over his shoulder, raising his voice over the music.

Jeongguk glanced over at the empty seat next to him. "No he isn't. I'm the only one back here."

It was a little bit impressive, how quickly Jin slammed on the brakes and swerved through four lanes of almost stop-and-go expressway traffic to pull off onto the shoulder. He stopped the car, gravel dust flying up in clouds around them. Shifted the van into park. Threw the emergency brake. Turned off the engine, shutting the music off with it. Gripped the steering wheel tight. "Jeon Jeongguk," he said, voice calm in the sudden quiet of the stopped vehicle. "I'm going to need you to put that by me one more time."

"He's not back here," Jeongguk repeated, leaning over the bucket seat in front of him where Hoseok sat, snoring languidly. "I don't think he's in the van."

Jin's hands tightened on the steering wheel even harder, if such a thing were even possible. Namjoon leaned forward hesitantly. "Kim Namjoon," Jin snapped, "if you dare utter the words 'carte blanche'—"

"Nah," Namjoon stuttered quickly. "My phone's dead, I was gonna see if I could use yours to call him. We probably just... I don't know..."

"He's dead," Jin said in a high voice, unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing open the door on his side of the van. "We're going on vacation and I have killed Kim Taehyung!"

"Jin, god damn it, nobody's dead—"

"Then where is he, Namjoon?" Jin started walking desperately around the van, wringing his hands together. "This is terrible. This is terrible. This is the worst. Oh my god. No. No no no no no..."

It was another five minutes before Jin determined beyond the shadow of a doubt that Taehyung really truly wasn't anywhere in, on, or under the van, and further two minutes before his phone rang and Namjoon picked up so hurriedly that he nearly dropped it.

"We have to go back," Namjoon said, after ending the call.

"Oh god," Jin moaned, bending over almost double. "Was that the hospital? Is he dead? Was he on the side of the road?! Did he really try riding on the—"

"We left him behind," Namjoon interrupted, passing Jin's phone through the window to him. "At the rest area. He's been in the arcade for the last thirty minutes." His gaze flickered awkwardly up to Jeongguk's face. "He's apparently been, um, banned. For life."

"Oh god," Jeongguk said, feeling all the blood rush out of his face. Tae had said he was gonna get him that prize, right? The Iron Man plush toy? "What did he do?!"

"I think," Namjoon said carefully, voice raised over the din of everyone piling back into the van, "it might be easier to explain what he didn't do."

The van tires squealed on the pavement as Jin slammed on the brakes to swing around the front of the rest stop building. Namjoon was unbuckled and opening his door before the van had even quite stopped moving, tumbling out onto the asphalt desperately. "Tae!" he yelled. "Jesus christ, what the hell—"

Kim Taehyung: writer of sonnets, master of the theater, reciter of Shakespearian monologues, bane of Kim Seokjin's existence... and, apparently, unexpected crane game genius, stood at the curb with his arms piled high with cheap plush toys and knick knacks and, notably, a plush Iron Man, perched sweetly atop the mountain.

He stuck his head around the stack of junk and smiled brightly. "I got everybody presents!" he chirped.

Jin rested his forehead against the steering wheel. "We are never," he said in a calm voice, as Taehyung loaded his wealth into the van, "allowing Tae to play a crane game ever again."

"Definitely not there," Taehyung said, squishing himself in next to Jeongguk in the back. "They told me I couldn't come back if I didn't stop winning all the prizes, even though I'm pretty sure that's literally the point of the game." He glanced up at Jeongguk, a hopeful look flitting over his face as he held up the plush Iron Man toy with a delicacy bordering on reverence. "Gotcha the Iron Man, Kookie. Sorry about your hair."

Jeongguk stared at him. Reached forward carefully. Took the plush toy out of Taehyung's hand and stared down at it, feeling... he had no clue what he was feeling, actually. "It's cool," he said distantly. "Thanks. I mean... for the toy."

Taehyung elbowed him good-naturedly as Jin started up the van again. "I said, didn't I?" He winked. "Anything for you."

NAMJOON
After sunset

Namjoon woke up slowly, gently, easing his way up out of sleep and into consciousness like a diver careful not to rise too quick. With his eyes still closed he couldn't quite tell where he was for a few seconds but for some reason he didn't really mind, like wherever he was he knew he was probably safe and okay and not about to hurtle off of a cliff. In his right ear he could hear a kind of muffled roaring, skittering and inconsistent almost like the sound of the ocean. In his left ear he could hear music, but still half asleep and dreaming he couldn't quite place it despite knowing somewhere deep in his gut that he'd heard the song before.

When he opened his eyes the first thing he noticed was that he was still wearing his sunglasses. He'd fallen asleep against the passenger door, head pillowed on his arm along the window ledge, and he was still wearing his sunglasses so he couldn't tell if it was really night or if he was just being stupid. Jin was driving, slouching a little in the driver's seat, light reflecting strangely off his face.

The sound in his right ear was the sound of the freeway as they traveled along at 105kph. The sound in his left ear was Jin, singing along under his breath as he drove to whatever song it was that Namjoon recognized but couldn't quite place.

He didn't mean to pretend to be asleep still, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Couldn't bring himself to straighten up, and stretch, and yawn and groan and ask what time it was. The car was silent except for the sound of the music playing quietly over the speakers (and Jin murmuring the lyrics just under the volume at which the words would become intelligible) and Namjoon knew that he and Jin were the only ones awake.

But god - what the hell song was it that was playing over the speakers? It sounded so damn familiar, but the verse was too quiet and indistinct to work out. Maybe once the chorus started he'd be able to—

Oh. Of course. It was Busker Busker. Namjoon should have known it was Busker Busker. Jin was never too strict about the Driver Picks The Music rule that Namjoon had grown up with, but with everyone else asleep and no one to push their own music choices Jin would put on Busker Busker, keep the volume low enough that no one would wake up, and listen to it absent-mindedly until somebody woke up and demanded they switch over to Taeyang or IU or something instead.

Second album. Second track. Too Much Regret, and Jin was singing along to the chorus, voice low and quiet under the muffled roar of the freeway outside of the confines of the van.

He was a little flat. A little too nasal. If he practiced a little he could be pretty good but as it was he was a little flat and a little nasal and his voice wasn't quite low enough to hit all of the notes, but he sang along anyway in a distracted sort of way, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Namjoon couldn't remember ever hearing Jin sing before, (like I would try singing in a house full of Music majors, Jin had scoffed god knew how many months ago, you'd all skin me alive the second I opened my mouth), but Jin's voice sounded like him - a little thin and a little awkward but utterly and completely heartfelt and sincere.

It wasn't until the track wound down and Jin turned his head and reached up with his right hand to hit the button to skip back and replay the track that Namjoon realized that the reason the light was reflecting so strangely off Jin's face was because his face was wet. His face was wet. He'd been crying a little - he was still crying a little - and the light was reflecting strangely off of the wet tracks the tears had left on his cheeks. His eyes were a little bit red and a little bit puffy but he wasn't all messed up; he hadn't been sobbing. Just crying a tiny bit, tears coming up of their own accord as he listened to Too Much Regret over and over and over.

Namjoon hadn't meant to pretend to be asleep. He hadn't meant to, but the sunglasses over his eyes hid the truth of it and so he sat across the console from Jin and watched him drive and cry just a little bit and sing along for two whole run-throughs of the track (each time skipping back to the beginning again before the third track on the album could queue up) before Namjoon couldn't take it anymore.

The track wound down for the fourth time and Jin turned his head and reached up with his right hand to hit the button to skip back and replay the track - but this time Namjoon reached out too. Reached out and wrapped his fingers around the back of Jin's hand, tugging it gently back down to rest on the gear shift again.

"It's okay," Namjoon said, his voice hoarse and rusty with sleep. "It's okay. What happened happened. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Love Is Timing finally had the chance to queue up. Jin's left hand tightened on the steering wheel. "How long have you been awake?"

"Just a bit," Namjoon lied. He sighed and settled in against his arm again, closing his eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

There was quiet for a minute, Busker Busker washing over them. ("If only I was there when I should have been there.") "You don't know that. You weren't there."

"Nah." Namjoon wasn't sure what he'd thought Jin had been crying about, honestly. "Didn't have to be. It wasn't your fault."

Jin sighed and rubbed the back of his left hand over his face, quick and stuttered to get back to the steering wheel again. "Your hand is cold."

"Mm." Namjoon tightened his grip over the back of Jin's hand, just for a second. Just a quick, short increase in pressure. "Sorry."

"... It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there." Jin glanced over. "And take your sunglasses off. The sun went down an hour ago, and if you sleep with them on you'll get a headache."

"Yeah," Namjoon sighed sleepily, slipping them off his face with his free hand before slumping back over onto the window ledge. "Thanks, babe."

"... Y-yeah. No problem."

"We're here."

It was Jin's voice, sounding thin and exhausted. Namjoon opened his eyes and jerked upward, groaning as his neck creaked in protest. "What?"

"We're here," Jin repeated. He was slumped over the steering wheel, one hand still resting on the keys in the ignition, the engine turned off. "I've been driving for eight hours. We're here."

"Jesus." Namjoon rubbed both hands over his face and tried desperately to blink awake before turning on the overhead light and reaching back to jab Hoseok in the knee. "Yah. Hoseok. We're here. Get everybody out."

"Nnk."

"Hoseok. I'm serious, wake up. You're the only one with keys to the place."

Hoseok sighed and opened one eye. "Shit. The fuck time is it?"

"Almost ten," Jin sighed, voice muffled in his arms.

"Damn. A'right, gimme just a second..."

Namjoon reached over and rubbed a hand tentatively over Jin's broad shoulders. Jin's muscles seemed to loosen a little under the pressure of his palm and he sighed, slouching a little more into the steering wheel. "Jin," Namjoon murmured quietly, leaning over the console so Jin could hear him even over the ever-increasing din of a van full of college kids waking up and getting out and getting unloaded. "Jin, you okay?"

"I'm really tired," Jin breathed, voice muffled and slurred where his mouth was smashed against his arm. "Today was..." He groaned and shook his head, flopping it back and forth. "Today was long, Joonie. Really, really long."

"Yeah." Namjoon squeezed Jin's shoulder reassuringly before reaching down and unbuckling both of their seatbelts, first Jin's then his own. "Let's get you inside and get you to bed, all right?"

Hoseok was standing on the driveway when Namjoon opened the front passenger door, stretching hugely as he yawned. "Hyung," Hoseok said through the yawn, reaching into his pocket for the keys and tossing them underhand into Namjoon's waiting palms. "Go ahead and get Jin-hyung inside. Hallway to the right and all the way back, last door on the left."

"Don't call me hyung," Namjoon said automatically, glancing down at the keys in his hand. "Thanks. When I've got him all settled, I'll come out and—"

"Nah," Yoongi interrupted, voice still thick with sleep as he tumbled out of the van into the chilly, sea-breeze night. "Just go inside and get him to bed. Don't worry about the luggage. We're gonna make Tae bring all of it in." There was a squawk from the back of the van. "Shut up, kid - if it weren't for you Jin-hyung wouldn't be the walking dead right now. Now get your ass out here and get ready to carry some shit." He glanced up to Namjoon, eyes flickering to where Jin was still slumped over the steering wheel. "Just..." He bit his lip for a second. "Take care of him, all right?" A shrug. "Wouldn't be right if we let our mom get sick on the first day of vacation."

"Right," Namjoon said stupidly, head still working slow with sleep. He looked down at the keys in his hands. Up into the night sky - billions of stars blinking back at him out here in the relative dark outside of Seoul - then into the van, where Jin looked like he had perhaps already fallen asleep.

He hadn't had to help Jin very often like this. Namjoon wasn't sure how many times Jin had helped hoist him into bed (or onto a couch, or at least into a more comfortable position slumped over his homework) but Jin was responsible. He went to bed on time. He knew his alcohol tolerance and never drank too much. He took care of himself for the express purpose of being certain he could take care of everyone else and Namjoon couldn't remember the last time he'd had to help Jin get to bed.

Jin was thinner than he was, broad shouldered, sure, but slender waisted, so initially Namjoon just figured he could try hauling him bodily out of the van - but it turned out that Jin was heavier than he looked (toned lines of firm muscle under Namjoon's fingertips, under Jin's sweater, under the cotton of Jin's undershirt) and Namjoon had his work cut out for him. "Jin," he said quietly. Jin was laying on his shoulder, still halfway in the van. "Jin, you gotta - you gotta wake up a little so I can get you to bed."

"Scoundrel," Jin slurred, bapping him blearily with a loose fist even as he slipped the rest of the way out of the van. His sneakers found uneasy purchase on the concrete driveway and he leaned his weight against Namjoon's side, burying his forehead in Namjoon's throat. "Think I'm easy. Goin' to bed, jus' like that. With you." He laughed, goofily, half asleep and stupid into Namjoon's chest. "Takes a lot more'n that to get me to bed, Joonie."

"Gotta buy you dinner first, right?" Namjoon hefted Jin's weight and half-dragged, half-walked him up the pathway to the front door of the massive, sprawling vacation house. (He couldn't even see the whole thing in the dark like this, but he was already feeling a little intimidated.) "Maybe the third date I can get you to bed?"

"We're married," Jin sighed, hand tightening in Namjoon's sleeve. Namjoon struggled with the key in the lock for a second before it clicked, the door opening. "I guess I can let you take me to bed. Y'gotta be gentle. I'm delicate." He waved a hand languidly as Namjoon tugged him up over the threshold, leaning him against the wall to kneel down and take off both their shoes. "It's been a while. An' I've seen your dick."

Namjoon ducked his head, feeling heat creep over the back of his neck. "You're asleep, Jin. Stop talking before you say anything you're gonna regret, all right?"

Jin slipped forward into his arms as Namjoon stood up again. "Yeah," Jin sighed against his throat. "Thanks, babe."

Namjoon froze, just for a second - half a second, not even half a second - before tugging Jin up into the darkness of the house and down the hallway to the right. "Hoseok said it was the last door on the left. Jesus, where's the light switch, it's dark as shit in here—"

He found it after a second, but even in the light he wasn't sure how he managed to get Jin all the way down the almost infinitely long hallway and through the door and across the floor and onto the bed. (There was just one bed in here, king size - he assumed he'd be sleeping somewhere else, but god knew with these shits. Ever since Jimin had found out that he and Jin really truly weren't fucking it seemed like the kid had made it his own personal divine quest to get them together. Namjoon wouldn't put it past him to rally with Hoseok to put them into a bedroom together with only one bed.)

Jin sat at the end of the mattress, slumped over with his eyes closed. "I'm tired," he said, voice thick.

"I know." Namjoon turned down the blankets and piled a couple pillows up. "Give me a second. Can you take your sweater off?"

Jin flapped his hands uselessly, head rolling back on his shoulders. His hands, god - they swam in the long cuffs, fingertips poking out adorably. "I'm tired," he repeated, a whine in his voice. "Joonie..."

"Yeah, yeah." Namjoon pulled Jin up onto his feet and tugged the sweater up and over and off, tossed it carefully onto an armchair in one corner of the room. "Take your jeans off and get in bed." Jin blinked sleepily and plucked at Namjoon's shirt, biting his lower lip. "Jin, come on."

"I miss you," Jin slurred. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on Namjoon's shoulder. "You've been... you've been really distant, Joonie. I dunno what I did." He looped his arms around Namjoon's waist. "I dunno what I did."

"You didn't..." Namjoon cleared his throat. Patted Jin awkwardly on the shoulder. "You didn't do anything. School's just been weird. Sorry I've been distant. Get into bed, I have to go help unload the—"

"I miss you," Jin said again, his voice even more quiet and distant and asleep. He tugged on Namjoon's waist and even this, even with his muscles weak and loose, even here Namjoon was powerless to resist as Jin dragged him awkwardly around the side of the mattress. "I wanna sleep. Don't leave."

"Jin—"

Jin tipped back onto the mattress, tugging Namjoon down with him - he barely caught his weight on the edge of the mattress with one knee to keep from laying down flat on Jin's chest. "Don't leave," Jin said again.

Namjoon swallowed. "Jin, I have to help with—"

But then Jin's eyes opened - and he looked awake. He almost looked awake, and lucid, and sincere. Hands tightening on the fabric over Namjoon's shoulders. Tongue flickering out to wet his lips, pink and swollen and perfect. "Don't leave," he said a third time.

Closed his eyes.

Tightened his grip on Namjoon so that he had to roll creatively in order to avoid crushing Jin under his weight.

Turned over onto his side, threw one arm over Namjoon's chest, and started to snore very, very quietly.

"Fuck," Namjoon said.