muscle memory | knj

Damned be the silence of the forest surrounding you on this late December afternoon.

If you'd known about the seemingly harmless suggestion that your boyfriend threw at you a month ago, you wouldn't have said yes to this mysterious trip. The reason doesn't lie in the destination itself – no, in truth, you've never felt as tranquil as you have in the last eleven hours.

The sky remains devoid of clouds, rain or snow, the sun shining onto you pleasantly and the oxygen produced deep in the woods so crisp that you reckon you'd been living with suffocating lungs so far. You feel healed – feel clean.

And maybe you'd continue feeling alive and serene, if the voice of the menace groaning in front of your eyes wasn't dropping an octave with every pull of his body. That certainly does not contribute to the inner peace you've been trying to seek these past thirty minutes.

If Namjoon could name two things on this spinning planet that he loves unconditionally, they'd spell your and the gym's name.

You don't recall when the obsession started, but you do know that the flexing bicep and the firm chest are somewhat new. His body appears to grow harder like an armour of steel with each day, and instead of waiting for tonight to admire it before falling asleep above his heartbeat, you decided to enjoy the show from front row seats.

"You could've told me there'd be a gym here," you state, absolutely certain that he hasn't heard you between his grunts and grinding.

"Huh?" Blinking, he stops the pull-ups, finding solid ground under his feet again as he steps closer. "What did you say?"

"I said," you begin, straightening your posture on the gymnastic ball you've occupied, "I didn't know there'd be a gym here. You could've told me."

He halts when he's moved close enough to tower over you, but then he gets on his naked knees and looks into your amused eyes. Breathing out the exhaustion, he places a warm hand on your thighs and questions, "Why? Are you bored, baby?"

The fingers caressing the flesh of your leg and the thin layer of sweat shimmering on his face and neck fuel your breathlessness further. You feel hot; feel bothered. You're sure that the heaters standing in every room don't necessarily need to fight the cold of the winter for you – Namjoon's seething presence suffices, too.

There are a thousand emotions and sensations coursing through your body – serotonin and various other hormones burn in your blood and your heart grows excited at his touch.

Simple, human reactions that his work-out session ignites in you – but boredom is definitely not one of them.

"I'm..." you try, your eyes wandering to the glass wall before they dart to his heaving chest. You don't know what he might be seeing in your expression right now, but when he lets out a soft chuckle, you notice that your sudden lip-biting must be speaking a million words.

"What?" Namjoon teases, raising an eyebrow and a corner of his lips to a smirk. "Did you enjoy the free entertainment?"

You sigh. Watch his eyebrow wiggle. And then finally lose it.

Grabbing him by his sweat-soaked shirt, you pull him closer to your face, his calm, cocky expression never falling as you say, "I'm irritated. The free entertainment is irritating me."

He pecks the corner of your lips gently as his hands wander upward to your hips. A quiet hum breathing against your face, he smiles at you once more, and when you stare back at him with still furrowed eyebrows, he asks, "Same reason as always?"

"Same reason as always."

Because with the neediness Namjoon evokes in you on a daily basis, it has by now become a running joke between you that his existence proves more frustrating than anything else.