Chương 1: Lotus
AN: Hi. Just wanted to let you know that this chapter and the next five are from Namjoon's perspective. The seventh until the tenth chapter (the tenth chapter included) will be from Jungkook's perspective. So, five chapters for each (six at first), on rotation, if the perspective changes I will let you know. So, don't worry about it.
In the first 14 chapters, thoughts will be in italics. Afterward, anything that's in between '...' is a thought. And quotation marks for dialogue.
This fanfic is finished and it took more than a year to complete. Also, if you'll find any mistakes, do let me know if you feel like it.
This chapter was edited by jooniekingg.
"This must be illegal somewhere." He stated.
"It can't be worse than selling and also, he agreed to it," I argued.
"Of course, he did, he's an addict with no money. You're the one who suggested the deal to him though."
"It's still consensual, but I wish we could do more."
"Namjoon, you're starting to worry me..."
"I mean, just talking and going somewhere else besides the bathroom or the bushes..."
He choked on iced water.
"I never considered you to be a romantic. But I guess it makes sense since you'd never casually comment about obviously beautiful women to me..."
"Anyway," I mumbld quickly as the waitress approached our table. I helped her place the heavy noodle bowls in front of the two of us. Her tray remained full even after she departed; "I was thinking you could help me."
"I can't pass as a high school student even if I wanted to, I mean I don't look that old but still..."
"That doesn't matter." I kept moving my chopsticks right and left multiple times as if that would've sold my point, but I was so excited about the slight possibility of finally having a plan in motion that I couldn't care less about the food.
"Whatever you're about to say, it can't be legal."
"Oh, shut up! I can't confess unless I am sure he feels the same. That is exactly why I..."
"Hmm..." He slurped some noodles while raising his right eyebrow at the same time.
"I just need you to touch him a bit, then tell me if he gets, you know... excited. That way I'll know if I'm the only guy that has that effect on him."
I could hear that the vegetables and noodles got stuck in his throat the second I finished the word 'touch', but he handled it quietly by sipping some water. And looking around to check if anyone was staring. At last, he cleared his throat a couple of times just loud enough to be civil before he spoke again:
"I am not going to prison just because you can't confess."
"You owe me for the time I..."
"Shh."
"But!"
"I know, but this is not the kind of favor you want to ask in return."
"It is!"
"It is not!" He wiped his face and ordered some beer.
"Look. This can be plan B. Plan A would be to check his...stuff first, yourself."
"I already did."
"And?"
"He clearly likes it." I claimed, smiling.
"Great. Problem solved." He got the glass with a small smirk while I was waiting for the woman to leave before I spoke again.
"Problem not solved. That doesn't particularly mean he likes me."
We've been discussing my relationship issues for a year now, although he wasn't obliged to listen to any of my problems, he had assured me that he wanted to know everything even after I had previously kept quiet for a whole year.
I knew he was probably sick of hearing about it by now since there wasn't any true progress. After all, he did repeatedly give me solid advice that I have barely acted upon.
"Then ask him in private!"
"I can't!"
"Why not?!" He got up out of anger.
I got up as well, shouting: "Because I'm scared!"
We knew we were yelling for who know how long, but this came as no surprise to the workers since we were one of their many regulars. Always asking for the same table that was just far enough from everyone's earshot.
We've tried speaking from every single table multiple times by pretending to plan murdering the other customers while peeking for any reaction or abrupt departure. I'd even sat at different tables to see if I could hear him or if he could hear me.
However, all words changed to code the minute we raised our voices just so we could continue screaming. We even bribed everyone and apologized multiple times because we wanted to continue eating there. No one either of us knew ever ate there. The food wasn't all that great either. But no one ever threw us or other screaming customers out.
"So, I guess, this guy has really got you on a tight leash from afar." His voice lowered in volume as he almost threw himself back in the chair.
"Yeah. I guess you could say that." I also sat down.
"Look, kid." He drank some soup and then pointed to mine in an attempt to remind me that I should be eating. "I get it, I really do. "
"You know I hate it when you talk down on me."
He ignored me.
"But you're looking for the easy way out of a complex situation. If you want more from the brat, then you should be asking for more. And if he rejects you, then take the hit and move on to greener pastures."
"What do you mean? How do I ask?" I wanted to know, staring down at the food without the incentive to move my hands.
"He won't start a conversation? You do it. You're in the same class, so you must know his schedule, so use that to your advantage. Not only that, but you said he's in that card club or whatever so... join it. If he goes on a bike on Sunday, buy one. Just try anything before you tell me to...do anything. After you've tried everything and I mean e-v-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Call me."
He almost spat his words before he drank the rest of his soup, and handed me a wallet that had nothing in it besides the weed that I had to deliver today. He casually lifted his bowl and brought it to the kitchen. Most likely to apologize for being loud although they never told us to pipe down.
He always said that being polite to those who cook your food is a must.
I knew he had already tipped and paid for the meal again without having to look.
I lifted my gaze off his empty side of the table just in time to see his friendly wink while he squeezed my shoulder and whispered: "Take care." before he walked out.
I on the other hand, continued to sit there with my full bowl of now-cold noodles with no appetite, assuming he might be right. Hell. He's always right. I thought about doing exactly what he said, but I couldn't convince myself to do anything that might break the already little contact I got by simply being his dealer.
After all, I knew more than his schedule. Although, I didn't stalk him on purpose. Chance had it, he always listened to music and fell asleep by the lake that was on my way home. He only ever shopped at one store that was closest to my house and had no friends. Or at least, none he ever met outside. And I rarely saw him talking to any of our classmates either. So, I supposed if he had any, they'd be childhood ones he saw at home or somewhere else.
I knew he had a brother since I saw him talking to the teachers a few times at the start of high school but after that, he never came again. They looked somewhat similar, but yet nothing alike at the same time.
I had to say that my parents were dead pretty early in the school year and I never got asked about it again. While the teachers continued to request for his parents to come to school since he fell asleep on his desk so often that everybody started calling him narcolepsy as a joke at first and later as a nickname. He repeated the same answer every year: They're abroad. This is their phone number."
He was an easy target since he was always alone. Both at home and at school. So, I took care of him without ever drawing attention to myself or verbally letting him know.
But I thought it'd be smooth sailing ever since I became his dealer on day four, the first year. I found it compelling that he seemed to function almost flawlessly while he was high, but then again, he avoided talking to anyone or moving much. Strangely enough, he was sober for four months straight every year right on time for the exams. I guessed that was the reason why he'd suddenly stopped smoking at the same time for two years in a row, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure if he just didn't want to study until the exams were right around the corner.
He never failed or got the best grades. I was impressed that he managed to learn everything in a short period of time while he seemed to be having obvious withdrawals. Everybody was too busy with their papers to care. Not to mention, everyone around him didn't pay him any mind to begin with, even when they weren't busy doing something else.
The first day after turning in the last exam paper, he'd reach out to me and get one month's worth of stuff and that would repeat every month until spring break passed. He never left the house unless it was to buy food at the closest store.
I have fallen in love with him since the day I met him, so I guess I paid more attention to him than I should've, but even if I didn't, the guy was as predictable as a rock. Nothing seemed to change in his schedule for the past two years and it wasn't much different when he was in kindergarten.
A true loner.
Despite the munchies, I'd assume he'd be getting, he remained slim as a stick, which was slightly concerning.
He sometimes asked to write, instead of speaking to get graded which made everyone think he was getting special treatment. Every teacher allowed him these quirks without any real backlash since his parents probably had some money to throw around, and he never got in any real trouble. But since he never spoke or reacted to anything, even when insulted, there was no fun in provoking him. Everyone seemed to agree to leave him be and complain about his behavior once in a while. Me included.
However, something about him was just...off. He seemed absent when he was paying attention too. And he was emotionless even if someone made an actual good joke. For someone who smoked so much, I rarely saw him laughing unless it was a one-on-one situation.
I often found myself wondering why I couldn't stop thinking about him.
That was the question that wouldn't give me peace after I'd witnessed him dropping stuff and struggling to say a full sentence. I couldn't find one satisfying answer. He was only a small, skinny, and almost mute addict.
But an addict whom I've never caught acting rude for no reason, lying, or being straight-out cruel. I witnessed him helping people without being asked, petting strays, and feeding them. He did say thank you, and I am sorry pretty fast too. Or turned the other cheek when classmates acted inappropriately.
Therefore, I had to tell myself that the only reason I'd take Fred's advice, which I've been passionately given and actually apply it this time, was because I've been hoping that talking to him outside the gates of boredom and getting through him to the point that I'd be able to witness the personality behind the statue would cause the spell to break and I'd be set free.
I only ever interacted with him one on one when he had to give me head in the school's bathroom, on the roof, or behind the school's bushes for the past two years and hasn't been helping me to stop thinking about him at all. I waited to get sick of it, but I never did. Most of the time, I didn't even orgasm since it would usually take me too long, and the thought of doing anything more, even as little as a kiss, kept me going without getting hung up on actually ejaculating.
Since I was getting nothing more, nothing less than: Him suddenly stopping, saying his mouth hurts, and I'd hear myself saying, it's good enough. He never asked for more and if I did push him out of the comfortable, sick, and invisible contract we've agreed on, every now and then, to let him know that he's also hard, his response always was:
"If you touch me, the deal is off."
The broke addict said to his dealer. I thought.
As if he had any other way to get his fix without a dime. But the thought of him doing the same things to a guy who won't listen to his weak threats helped me hold back every single time.
Classes started only a week ago, and he was already against his favorite tree, right by the lake, by himself. Seeing this, I walked up to him and sat down on the grass as if I was possessed. I denied any thoughts that wanted to convince me otherwise and just moved on autopilot.
I didn't say a word and waited for him to notice me. When his eyes didn't open, I assumed he must be sleeping. So, an idea I thought was nothing short of genius made me reach for his backpack and search for any meaningless object, but then the music stopped coming from his headphones while my hands were still buried in his pencil case, so I looked up.
His eyes snapped open.
"I wanted to borrow... I thought you were asleep. Hi." I tried to hide any guilt since all I originally wanted was to get something of his, pretend that he's lost it, and then pretend that I've found it. It would've been the perfect, innocent way to approach him outside.
If only he didn't catch me stealing it.
The sun stopped right above his lips so the wind that just started blowing made him look as if his mind was carried even farther away than it was before.
"Borrow it then." He smiled a small smile and the obvious red eyes made me smile back out of pure nervousness.
That smile does not reach his eyes at all.
"Thanks."
"What are you writing?" He took the headphones off his head and let them hang like a necklace while he kept staring at me blankly.
"Homework." I quickly replied without thinking as a second smile stretched the corners of his mouth.
"We haven't got any. It's only been a week..."
I ended up speechless as I stared back into his dark eyes with a blank mind.
He started laughing. And I knew his laughter wasn't caused by me but by the weed he must've smoked. But it still mesmerized me as a forest fire would.
"The truth is... I just wanted to talk to you." I admitted, pulling my hand out of his backpack.
"About?" He asked, still trying to control his chuckling and succeeding.
"Well, about anything."
"All of a sudden?"
"Yeah. I have seen you around here so often that I started thinking: Doesn't Jungkook ever get cold? Doesn't anybody bother him for staying in a public place until it gets dark?"
His face told me he never took such things into consideration, but that he was mostly playfully suspicious as to why I'd know that he spent a lot of time by the lake.
I guessed it was a safe thing to say since our homes were in the same direction and there was no one he hadn't seen me passing by constantly.
"I do get cold, but I don't mind. And not really. It's not like I am going to steal the water lilies."
"They're protected by law or something."
"Exactly. No one cares since I am doing no harm."
"But you are."
"What?"
"You're smoking." I pointed to the slightly burnt blunt.
"You gave it to me." He argued in a tone that I didn't expect. For some reason, it made me stare at the water to avoid his eyes.
"I know. I've always wanted to ask though, why do you smoke so much? Is someone bothering you and you're using it to cope? Or are you sad? Lonely?"
"I am sorry, but what is it that you really want?" He cut me off, and I was sure he was annoyed without having to look at his face.
His emotions change so quickly. He might be bipolar or just a paranoid stoner. I glared with no shame at the guy who was probably 20 centimeters shorter and 20, or even 30, kilograms lighter.
"I want to be your friend." I tried, but his features didn't soften one bit. He didn't even blink.
"Why?"
"Because I like you."
"You don't know anything about me." He argued, crossing his arms.
"I do."
"Tell me one thing no one knows but you, besides the conspicuous." His eyes guided mine towards the blunt, and then simply glared, soaked in absolute disbelief.
"You like animals and mellow songs. And you've got no friends."
His arms dropped by his sides and his back hit the tree behind him after he rolled his eyes.
"Great, what else?"
"You like sweets," I raised one finger the second he opened his mouth to protest, "mostly chocolate." and then he closed it.
"Are you a stalker?"
"You joined the only club everyone agrees to be for the students that simply don't want to go home. Even teachers know you guys just play cards and watch movies. Not to mention, eat junk food, but it's a wonder you don't get fat since you hate most physical activities. While that might only be because you're always stoned, so you're tired all the..."
He got up and picked up his backpack at the same time. I also got up on pure instinct and grabbed him by the jacket.
"You told me to say what I know. And frankly, I wasn't done yet."
All of a sudden, he seemed aware of our physical differences. But he didn't let that bother him, so he just tried to walk away in hopes that his force would be enough to get the jacket loose or that I'd just let go. But neither happened.
Instead, he tried to escape my grip while I didn't move an inch.
"You like literature since your essays are so freaking long, but you barely read so you must actually like the movies made after the book, and... hey!"
He pushed me into the lake so fast that I didn't get to straighten my legs, but I didn't let go of the dark blue material. Therefore, we both fell in with the backpacks still on. We had disturbed both the water lilies and the nearby birds which flew in surprise.
While it was enough for me to stand up and raise above the water level, he was clearly struggling. I just held him up by the backpack and pretty much carried him out.
We were soaked.
"Shit!" It was the thanks I received before he frantically started searching inside his bag.
I was confused only for a second, before remembering that he probably had his weed in there.
"Don't worry. It's in a sealed plastic bag, isn't it?"
"What if I forgot to close it?"
Water was dripping from everywhere except my hair, but all he cared about was his weed.
Ah, he's a moron…
My mood considerably got worse but watching his green made me remember that I had to deliver some myself in a few hours. I pulled him up by the arm quickly and then dragged him after me without looking back.
"Wait. Stop. Where are you taking me? Have you lost your remaining gray cells?"
"I live closer than you do. Don't worry, I live with my grandma, and she's probably asleep already. We're soaked and it's freezing. Do you want to get sick? I don't." I stopped at the same time with my words and looked at the trembling boy behind me. He met my eyes and then looked down.
"I don't either." I continued to drag him with force alone. I didn't care about what everyone thought. I could guess it from their gazes though. Even if I had known that he probably wouldn't run home in his current state, I would still keep forcing him as if he would.
By the time we got inside, the sky was considerably darker, and I was too cold to care about any formalities. I pretty much threw some towels in his direction and ran hot water in the sink. We submerged our hands immediately. His hands looked like children's next to mine and I found that a bit disturbing.
Do I have any cooked food? Was the first thought that came to mind as he started walking around like an animal in a new room. Searching for enemies.
He seemed surprised by it and I couldn't comprehend why. The house was small indeed, yet cozy. It had a front and a backyard that contained mostly wild vegetation, and five flowers at best.
When he reached the table by the back door and found a bunch of pill bottles, he halted.
He looked at it, turned around, and before I could say that my grandma was sick, he spoke instead,
"I'm sorry."
I nodded. His light, dark hair was dripping water on the dark wooden floor.
"There's a dryer in the bathroom, but close the door before using it since it's loud. If you want to take a shower, there are some towels by the door. And yes, I will let you borrow some clothes."
He went in.
I rested against the kitchen sink and stared at the closed door with a smile.
Well, I guess any start is better than nothing.
Then I heard the shower running.
Friend? Why did I have to say, friend?
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