A Little Slice of Heaven [Namjin]

Chapter Two: A Punch to the Face

AN: Hello, lovelies!  Boseok Gedo is definitely not a real place.  It's supposed to be along the lines of "Jeweled Crab Island".

Additionally, if you're enjoying the story, please vote so I know there's interest.  Comments are also appreciated.  I'm really very nice, I promise.  I'll reply to messages, as well, if anyone wants to say 'hi.'

Ta!

Edited 2/5/2020 - Just fixing some grammatical errors, nothing new.  I also need to learn to completely read through and do all the edits before hitting the publish changes button.  Derp.

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"I'm ready," Namjoon announced as he stepped out of the bedroom wearing his swim trunks and a red tank top. He had a towel thrown across his shoulder and had removed his watch and rings, not wanting to get saltwater all over them, or sand stuck underneath. "Jackie?" He glanced around and sighed in annoyance when he didn't see the man where he'd left him. The office door was closed again and Namjoon could hear his husband's voice from behind the wood. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door and poked his head in.

"Jackie," he hissed, not able to keep the glare from his features.

Jackson covered the mouthpiece of his phone with a hand. "Ten minutes," he whispered. "You can go down and start looking for your lobsters, I'll join you in just a couple, okay?" The shorter man pushed gently against the door, closing Namjoon out of the office.

For a handful of heartbeats, Namjoon stood staring at the wood-grain in front of him before clenching his fists. "They're crabs," he snarled under his breath before turning on his heel and stomping from the suite. A sixth tally mark was added to his mental list as he stabbed the button for the elevator more harshly than necessary. He watched the waves roll in from the window as the lift plunged smoothly for the ground floor. "You've known me for eight fucking years and still can't get that right?" he ranted under his breath. "Five years promising me we'd come down here and when we do, you spend the entire fucking time on your fucking phone. I may as well have come by myself. Fucking lobsters?"

They had spent the previous day settling into their suite, making good use of the bed. And the couch. And almost the kitchen counter, Jackson's phone interrupting them right before Namjoon had gotten his pants off. Namjoon ended up taking care of himself in the shower when "this will only take five minutes" turned into an hour-long phone call.

Room service provided them with a dinner they shared out on the balcony. For a brief moment, Namjoon thought that maybe, just maybe Jackson would put his work aside for them to be just them. Then, right as Namjoon popped the cork on a second bottle of champagne, the shorter man's phone rang. Jackson had said it was London on the line so he had to take it, because the time differences made it difficult to find a better opportunity to discuss whatever business they had. His husband had retreated to the office once more, and Namjoon drank an entire bottle of champagne on his own, watching the waves rolling in far below from his perch on the balcony railing.

Shaking away his mounting anger, Namjoon left the elevator and made quick work of the five-minute walk between the hotel and the beach. The moment Namjoon reached the sand, he dropped his sandals and towel on an unoccupied beach chair and went in search of the cocktail bar he'd read about in the pamphlets Seokjin had given him.

It was easy to find. The thatched, tiki-idol adorned hut stuck out like an orange road cone in a restaurant. It was a gaudy construct layered in silk-flower leis and shiny fringed banners advertising specialty drinks. When Namjoon slid onto a bar stool to order, he smiled in surprise at the face that greeted him from across the bar. The concierge that checked them in yesterday was slinging drinks while wearing a ridiculously large straw hat and a bright pink Hawaiian shirt.