Life With Namjoon (02. Sleep)
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A/N: Here’s the second installment of this little series~ I’m glad the first part got a lot of positive responses despite it not being a smut or anything like that haha. There might be smut sprinkled here and there in this series, but for the most part my goal is to craft an ideal, cute relationship (by most people’s standards, I think), and so far I’m having fun doing just that~
This happens every once and a while. When Namjoon slips into his ‘zone’. The zone where attempts to fulfill every single thought on his mind, and in the process pushes basic needs aside.
You’d witnessed him in his zone a few times before—both times occurring in the weeks prior to Bangtan wrapping up their new albums. He always strives for his lyrics to be perfect. He wants his compositions to reflect the mood of the song and the meaning behind the lyrics, and if he feels he’s lacking—even if in the smallest way—he’s going to push himself until he feels content with what he has done.
This is what you’ve learned about Kim Namjoon—mostly through his own recounts. Because not only is he your boyfriend, but he’s your best friend, and over your time together he’d let you into his buzzing brain and big heart.
And in a time like this, you have no doubt that that buzzing mind of his has descended into sleep deprived madness. With the clock striking 11PM, and Namjoon not having returned home in 2 days, your heart aches for him, and you know that you can’t sit back a second longer.
You had been trying to respect him—to have trust in him that he’d be able to know when to take a break and come home to eat and sleep—but…this is getting out of hand. You had even texted Yoongi asking if the boys had managed to drag him back to the dorm to sleep (even though Namjoon always prefers staying with you), and, of course, his response had been “no”.
Pushing off your couch, you sigh and grasp at the extra fabric of Namjoon’s oversized hoodie, his scent reaching your nose and causing you to long for him even more. His hoodie keeps you warm against the permanently cool temperature of your apartment, yet you want more—you want him—cuddled up with you and whispering silly prospects about life into your hair as his body heat presses against your back.
You miss him—and you’re worried, on top of that—so this is the final straw.
In the kitchen, you scoop up some of Namjoon’s favorite snacks and shove them a little backpack resting in your room. You then slip on your shoes, place the bag on your back, and leave your apartment after flicking off the lights and locking the door.
You’re sure if Namjoon knew you were walking the streets of Seoul at this time of night he’d have a little bit of a heart attack (because he’s a cutie that always says “when you’re alone at that time of day a drunk guy may try and steal you away from me”), but you confidently traverse the streets anyway. The new Bighit building isn’t more than a few blocks away.
Stepping up to the mainly closed building, you swipe in with your keycard (thankful that the boys had finally convinced the other staff to make one for you), and start towards Namjoon’s studio. You pass by not a single soul on the way, the halls eerily silent save an increasing loud thrum of bass as you near Namjoon’s studio.
“Joon?” you call quietly as you knock on the shut door. You wait a few seconds, brows furrowed, but the music inside doesn’t stop. Sighing, you turn the knob and slowly step inside, your eyes casting to where Namjoon is hunched over his desk. There are three empty Starbucks cups beside his keyboard, along with an energy drink, and an empty sandwich wrapper. (You internally thank the boys for looking out for their leader, even if they hadn’t been able to get him to rest).
The floor space leading up to his chair is full of ripped out notebook pages—scribbled with words and crumpled in frustration. And Namjoon himself…seems crumpled with exhaustion. Elbows propped up on his desk, his entire body is slouched, dark hair messy and unwashed. You can practically see the fog clouding his mind—like all the gears had overheated and jammed, leaving Namjoon frustratingly stalled because his body isn’t acting as he wants it too.
“Joon,” you say quietly when the partial song ends, taking a large step forward. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your hair tickling his cheek as you nuzzle your face against his neck. At first Namjoon tenses, caught off guard by the unexpected contact, but even his sleepy mind manages to rationalize that the only person who holds him like this is you—so he relaxes into your grasp with a long sigh.
“Babe…,” he says, hand reaching up to grip your arm. Your presence is comforting to him, yet he realizes that you being here likely means that you’re going to try and make him stop—and he’s not ready to throw in the white flag yet…there’s just….something is missing from the melody and he’s been debating adding more synth to the first verse—
“You need to rest, Joonie,” you tell him quietly, knowing that he won’t agree with that. He’s stubborn in his own right. “It’s not good to drive yourself into the ground like this,” you continue, holding him tighter when you feel him weakly attempt to shrug you off.
“I’m not, I just…I need to finish up the lyrics and fix this one cord…,” he mumbles, scooting forward and attempting to reach for his keyboard. However, you don’t let him get there. With your arms still wrapped around him, you tug his chair away from his desk and then spin it around, causing Namjoon to face you.
“Y/N–,” he begins, his brows furrowing unhappily. You see the dark bags under his eyes and the stubble on his chin, and your heart aches.
“I know, I know,” you say, hand reaching out to cup his cheek. You rub your thumb along the stubbly skin, leaning down to kiss his slightly chapped lips. You kiss him gently yet the emotion behind the gesture is firm, and Namjoon sighs as soon as you pull back, his hand moving to run through his messy hair.
“I know you’re determined to keep working. I know you want to get it done, but…let me be the rational side of your brain that you’ve gone deaf to,” you plead, hands smoothing down his shoulders. “If you get rest it will likely help your creativity to come back. You’ll feel better, you’ll be more alert of the tune you’re crafting and the flow of the lyrics you want to write. You’re going to get this done, Kim Namjoon, but you’ve been here nearly 3 days now—and that’s not healthy. I don’t like seeing you like this, the boys don’t like seeing you like this, and I’m sure ARMY wouldn’t be happy knowing their favorite leader is beating himself up trying to get a track done. The album will be ready when it’s ready, you have all of the boys sitting around willing to help you. Please, baby,” you whisper, kissing him softly. “Take a break.”
This time, Namjoon tiredly kisses you back, giving in, and you feel a sense of relief. It seems he’s come around a little.
“I know…,” he echoes, his arms reaching out to encircle you. He pulls you sideways onto his lap, his forehead slumping against your shoulder. The contact has you smiling, and you begin petting your hand through his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp. Namjoon nearly purrs at the feeling, his body turning into jello at the sensation.
“Hey babe…I brought your favorite snacks,” you tell him after a minute, his eyes closed. Namjoon quietly groans in acknowledgement, his face lightly rubbing against your shoulder in order to wake himself up.
“I’m hungry,” he grumbles, and you giggle, glad to see that Namjoon is back to being a tired cutie instead of a stubborn, exhausted man.
“They’re in my bag,” you say, and wiggle in his hold, pulling your backpack off and setting it on your lap. Once the zipper on the main pouch is open, Namjoon digs around inside, tearing open packages and shoving the snacks in his mouth, mumbling about water when he eats them too fast.
Rolling your eyes, you scoot off his lap and fetch one of his empty starbucks cups from his desk.
“I’ll get you some water,” you say, starting towards the door, but Namjoon stops you. Grabbing your wrist, he pulls you back towards him and snuggles his head against your tummy.
“Don’t go,” he says, and you bend down, kissing the crown of his head.
“You really do turn into a baby when you’re exhausted. I’ll be right back, Joon. I promise.”
Nodding against the hoodie you’re wearing, Namjoon releases you, and, true to your word, as soon as you’ve filled the cup with water at the nearest drinking fountain, you return to Namjoon’s studio. However, Namjoon is no longer in his chair. Instead he’d somehow moved to the floor, and is now using one of his studio plushies as a pillow, your snacks spread on the carpet around him.
“Are you trying to perform a séance with my snacks, or what?” you laugh incredulously, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. Namjoon grunts, making grabby hands up at you, and you roll your eyes but soon join him on the floor.
“Here’s your water,” you say, and, barely managing to sit up, Namjoon thanks you and takes a long sip. You move the cup away when he sets it down, and then go back to petting his hair.
“Should we go home? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“It’s too late I’m already dead,” he grunts, his eyes refusing to open, and you smile.
“Are we sleeping here tonight?”
“There’s a blanket in Yoongi hyung’s office.”
Huffing, you get back up and jog next door to Suga’s studio. He’s got a little couch in his room—because he tends to pull all-nighters more than Namjoon—so you somewhat apologetically scoop up the two blanks and pillow he has spread on the couch.
In the minute it takes you to get back to Namjoon’s studio, the man-child has fallen asleep, light snores filling the room. You roll your eyes, but don’t even think about leaving him. He’s too precious to leave, and you’ll last one night on the floor. So, that being said, you crawl onto the thankfully soft carpet beside him, tossing the blankets over both your bodies. You place the pillow on the ground beside Namjoon’s plushie, and then nuzzle into his chest, sighing contently.
Despite the fact that your bed is much more comfortable, you’re simply glad that you were able to get Namjoon to rest, and with the time ticking past midnight, you’re fairly tired too.
However, just as you’re beginning to doze off, Namjoon’s deep breathing lulling you to sleep, said male groans slightly and lifts one of his arms, wrapping it around you.
“I love you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. His warm breaths fan against your hair, the male seeming content with staying there, and you smile tiredly.
“I love you too.”
The next morning, the other 6 members of Bangtan flooding out of their car, Taehyung races into the building with his face set in a determined frown. Jin yells after him, tone warning, but Taehyung brushes him off. He’s worried for Namjoon—their leader needs a break—and he plans to drag Namjoon away from his computer even if it’s the last thing he does.
Stomping to Namjoon’s studio, Taehyung grips the handle of the shut door and steps inside, his mouth open and ready to scold Namjoon and drag him away. However, he immediately freezes when he spots you and Namjoon cuddled on the ground in each other’s embrace. His previously steeling heart melts, and he pouts at the cuteness, quickly backing out of the room when Jimin yells up the hall for him.
“Shhh!!” Taehyung scolds, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Jimin blinks in question, a few others mimicking his face as they round the corner.
“Mom and dad are sleeping!”
“Mom and dad?” Yoongi echoes, eyebrows furrowing. “You mean….Y/N and Namjoon are sleeping in there?”
“Do they have clothes on?” Jin asks nonchalantly, and Yoongi nudges him.
“It seems that Y/N got Namjoon hyung to finally rest,” Taehyung says, and the others are glad to hear it. Splitting off—Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung going to work on choreo, Jin leaving to record lines, and Yoongi retiring to his studio to finish up a track—the team breaks apart and gets to work.
Walking into his studio, Yoongi sighs and shrugs off his jackets, tossing it onto the couch. Unfortunately, he misses his aim and is forced to turn and pick it up. It’s at that exact moment that he realizes his couch has been rid of its usual inhabitants—mainly his pillow and blankets.
“Those two,” he grumbles, shaking his head. Yet, as he sits in his chair and spins it to face his desk, he finds himself smiling. Yoongi is glad someone like you is around to support Namjoon in the ways they can’t.