Work Text:
“Thank you, have a nice day!”
Seokjin rubbed his neck and rotated his head, hearing the cricks and wincing slightly at the pain. He didn’t sleep well last night since the mattress he slept on wasn’t supportive enough, causing aches throughout his body. He thought about going home and sleeping for the rest of the day, but he needed money if he wanted to eat and pay bills. His stomach growled on cue and he sighed.
“Pack of smokes,” a customer says to Seokjin and he nods, grabbing the ones being asked for. Seokjin smiles at the brand. He can imagine the smell and he really hates it, but it reminds him so much of Yoongi. No matter how many times he tells him to quit, Seokjin could still smell it when Yoongi wraps his arms around his waist and practically melts into him after a long day of working at the studio. Seokjin knows how much Yoongi struggles to get as many people to hear his music. Every time Yoongi wouldn’t get any responses or rejections from better companies, Seokjin would try to cheer him up as much as possible, no matter how tired he was himself. Yoongi’s passion was important to Seokjin and he didn’t ever want to make Yoongi feel like he had to choose between his music and their relationship.
It was the same for Seokjin, who had dreams of becoming an actor. He imagined countless drama or movie offers for him to choose, having a manager, wearing name brands and stylists to make him look flawless. He dreams of fans adoring and taking countless pictures of him, praising his acting skills. He’d love the fame. He could imagine finally moving out of his dingy apartment where Yoongi and him were holed up, the one mattress on the floor and the slowly breaking television, the small kitchen that Seokjin was never comfortable cooking in, the moldy shower that was slowly breaking and the thin walls that lets them hear everything. He shudders at the memory of hearing his older neighbors having sex next door to them.
He ignores the taunts from the group of men who visit him frequently at the store, commenting on his pretty face and asking when is he going to break up with his dead beat boyfriend. Seokjin wants to punch them in the face for disrespecting Yoongi and himself like that, but he needed his job. Yoongi told him it would be better if he found another place to work at, worried about Seokjin’s safety, to which Seokjin would respond that he can take them if they even dare try to do anything. He might have a pretty face, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let some low lives try to take advantage of him. He had to be stronger than that, for the both of them.
The men eventually leave and his shift is over after what feels like ages. He starts making his way to the building Yoongi worked at. The company was pretty small and not well known, barely managing to be able to have enough money for their employees. Seokjin knows Yoongi loathes working there, but he didn’t have any other options and they desperately needed the money.
“Hyung,” he hears Yoongi call after him, messy black hair bouncing slightly as he runs towards him. The cold January air is stinging their cheeks and Seokjin can see Yoongi’s are slightly flushed from the cold. He pants once he reaches Seokjin. Yoongi tries to meet him right as his shift ended every night, not liking the idea of Seokjin walking home by himself in the dark. Seokjin stopped trying to convince him that he was fine, always getting ignored by Yoongi.
“Sorry, I was talking to Namjoon and Hoseok before, you know how those guys can talk for hours. I tried getting here on time,” Yoongi explains while panting. Seokjin smiles.
“I just got out, it’s okay. You can make it up to me by massaging my neck when we get home, it’s killing me,” Seokjin says, ruffling Yoongi’s head.
Yoongi frowns and brings a large hand around Seokjin’s neck, applying pressure to the sore muscle, which causes Seokjin to hum.
“Is it hurting again? Let’s go,” he says, automatically pulling Seokjin closer as they headed to the bus stop. Seokjin admires the scenery as it started to snow lightly, sky turning pink and the empty streets slowly begin to be covered by a thin layer of white. Yoongi is shaking next to him as they wait for the bus to arrive. Seokjin wants nothing more than to pull him close and keep him warm, but he knows Yoongi isn’t one to be affectionate, so instead he softly grasps Yoongi’s thumb and traces it slightly, looking the other way even as he feels Yoongi’s eyes fall on him. Seokjin knows he appreciates the small gesture. Once you’ve been by someone for a long time, words don’t have to be said for it to be meaningful. It took a while for Seokjin to realize this, too.
“Ramen again for dinner,” Seokjin says with a sigh as he rummages through the poor excuse of a kitchen, frowning at the little ingredients the cupboards had.
“I rather have that than no food at all,” Yoongi hums, taping plastic wrap around the single window of their apartment to stop a draft from coming in.
Seokjin agrees, deciding to make spring rolls on the side. It wasn't long before the food was ready, and he thinks maybe next week they’ll have enough to buy some meat and spare it somehow.
They’re seated at the table across from each other, slurping down the noodles and taking small bites to savor the taste. Yoongi watches Seokjin chew slowly and chuckles softly.
“I presented a few of my tracks to the other produces today. They said it was too harsh for the public. No one wants to hear about corruption or mental health issues.” Yoongi doesn’t look at Seokjin and continues to eat. Seokjin scoffs.
“What do they know about good music? If you relate to the public, of course your songs will get noticed. Do they think mental health issues don’t exist? They need to stop rejecting your tracks.” Seokjin scowls into his bowl. “You work so hard too… When are they going to realize how talented you are? You really need to look for another company, Yoongi.”
Yoongi puts his chopsticks down and reaches across to grab Seokjin’s hand, entwining their fingers together.
“You know we need the money, hyung. I can’t just leave and have you pick up more shifts and the store when I know how tired you already are for working all day.” Yoongi sighs and traces a soft patch of skin on Seokjin’s pretty hands.
“I just wish they’d give me a chance. I want them to recognize me as a producer and take me serious. Do you know how much I want to move into a bigger place where you can actually lay down without worrying about bugs crawling on you? You deserve the fine things in life, hyung. Yet, here you are, stuck with me, working at a dead end job with drunks and rude people harassing you.” At this, Yoongi grasps Seokjin’s hand tighter. Seokjin had stopped eating and couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re an idiot. I’m not stuck with you and putting up with your struggles because I have to, I’m with you because I love you and I want to be by your side helping you achieve your goals. I’m not going anywhere. You should know that by now.”
Yoongi’s eyes are shining with content and they don’t bother cleaning up the table, choosing to cuddle on their beat up bed with Seokjin resting his head on Yoongi's chest and Yoongi holding onto him tightly, afraid that something too good and pure will slip away from his grasp.
“I’m really lucky to have you,” Yoongi whispers, lips pressed slightly onto his forehead. “One day we’ll make it and I’ll give you everything you want. I want you to achieve your dreams, too.”
Seokjin looks up into his brown eyes and kisses his cheek.
“I’ll hold you to that.”