catch-22.

 ten 

"Have you ever skipped before now?" Namjoon asks, his brown eyes lighting up curiously as he looks at the younger.

Taehyung smiles sheepishly, a blush framing his cheeks as he admits: "Actually I've never really done anything like this before. If – when Hobi hyung finds out he's going to murder me alive."

Namjoon chuckles, their feet walking in synch as they step forward in line.

They back of their hands brush together lightly, barely even considered a touch of skin to skin, but that doesn't stop the shiver that runs down Taehyung's back as he grazes his knuckles over Namjoon's own.

His skin is soft, baby soft, and he has to physically strain himself from reaching out to intertwine their fingers together.

"That's good," Namjoon finally says, "At least we're doing this on the same page. Right?"

Taehyung nods, a boxy smile stretching over his lips.

They spend the rest of the day going through high class stores, Taehyung convincing Namjoon to get clothing that kids his age use and they even end up having an impromptu fashion walk.

Of course filled with lots of giggles and hands splayed over their stomachs as they get six-packs, but Taehyung thinks that this is probably the best day of his entire life.

He feels so utterly happy to be here with Namjoon, standing in the dressing room of a Steve Madden department store as Namjoon models jeans, slacks, and khaki shorts, anything that Taehyung loads into his arms.

He looks so adorably awkward as he stares at the mirror and then at Taehyung's excited puppy expression whenever he exists the little trying on room.

And Taehyung has to pull a grip on his emotions to keep him in check so he won't say something stupid and ruin this little moment between them. This bond that glows from miles away.

Taehyung's body is slumped against the wall of the Guess dressing room they're at. He's scrolling through his instagram and ignoring the angry emoji's Hoseok keeps sending him.

When he hears the door of the room creaking open he looks up and finds Namjoon wearing a pair of (very, very) well-fitted jeans that curve into his thighs and hips.

He's wearing a turtle neck long-sleeve black and white striped shirt with a simple black top over it.

His hair is ruffled up in a cute messy way from all the clothes his pulls over his head and Taehyung can't find anything else to describe Namjoon at the moment that so beautifully fluffy.

This is the outfit that will have Seokjin falling head over heels for Namjoon. And if he doesn't than Taehyung doesn't know what's wrong with Seokjin to let someone as nice and sweet as Namjoon slip from his hands.

Because Namjoon is probably on the top of his Most Important Humans (and pets) list, the world doesn't deserve Namjoon at all.

And the thought of that – of watching Namjoon laugh until he's crying and cheeks are flushed, playing footsie under the table as the eat Chinese good – has Taehyung feeling an emotion that he can't really explain except for the fact that it's makes his palms clammy and his stomach do somersaults.

Whenever Taehyung feels like that he wants to throw up, wants to curl under his covers and never come out. He keeps hearing Hoseok's soft yet strict words, how someone's going to get hurt. And Taehyung keeps wondering if it's going to be him, because just the idea of seeing Namjoon get all comfortable with Seokjin has him sick to the stomach, a headache brewing on the side of his head.

It makes Taehyung hate himself because he's doing all of this to help Namjoon get the boy he likes, to prove a point that Taehyung isn't just some idiot taking up space.

Taehyung smiles tightly, hoping that Namjoon won't see his inner battle going on in his head. He isn't really up to talking about his emotions, much less talking about them with Namjoon.

The elder seems to not take notice or if he does he doesn't comment about it and Taehyung is all too happy to let it stay that way.

He shakes himself off and brushes the tingly feeling itching his body when Namjoon steps into the car, roaring it into life as he drives Taehyung to his home. The countless shopping bags stuffed away in the backseats.