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Yoongi laughs when Seokjin first mentions it to him.
"i don't see what's so funny," Seokjin huffs, hands on his hips while he frowns down at Yoongi from the foot of their bed.
"you don't even play any instruments, but you suddenly want to...put a band together? just like that?" Yoongi's eyebrows are raised, lips bitten into his mouth to conceal as much of his amusement as possible.
"it's the nineteen-eighties, Yoon -- everyone is in a band these days. so why not me?" Seokjin strikes a pose, one which might have been a (very sad) attempt at voguing, but honestly more resembled a mime trapped in an invisible box. "i mean - just look at me, right? i'm beautiful."
Yoongi snorts, but it appears that Seokjin isn't currently accepting critiques; pulling his worn white t-shirt off over his head, he easily steps right back into the routine of undressing for bed as he continues with his little speech. and if Yoongi didn't know better, he'd swear Seokjin had prepared it in advance.
"anyone can learn to play an instrument, okay, but looks like mine aren't as common as all that. they're something special, something the people want to see. and make no mistake, these looks? they deserve to front a band." Seokjin straightens slowly after pushing his ripped jeans down his long legs, looks up at Yoongi through his lashes. "don't you want to help me follow my dreams, babe?"
Seokjin stands mostly naked in the low light of their tiny bedroom, awash from head to toe in deep rose thanks to the thin scarf one of them had thrown over their bedside lamp at some point last week. it's a good look on him; skin glowing pretty and pink, Seokjin's spindly fingers slide down his chest to tease at the elastic waistband of his briefs and --
"that - that right there is cheating, and you know it..!" Yoongi groans. his head thunks back against the wall as he rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated but no longer trying to hide the fond smirk tucked into the corner of his mouth. "but fine. alright. let's put together a fucking band, then."
"yaaaaay," Seokjin cheers, voice a lazy, almost monotone drawl as he finally knees up onto their mattress. he takes his sweet ass time crawling over to where Yoongi lays waiting amongst their mountain of threadbare pillows, and then hovers above him on all fours for a moment.
it isn't a very long moment, though, since Yoongi's patience runs out pretty much immediately, chuckling a hastily muttered get over here before pulling Seokjin down on top of him and into a bruising kiss.
-
that weekend, Seokjin returns home late from an errand run. in one arm are two brown paper bags of groceries, which Yoongi helps him bring into the apartment, and in the other, is a second-hand guitar. which Yoongi tries not to gawk at.
"shit," he sighs, watching the careful way with which Seokjin handles the old battered instrument. "you were serious."
Seokjin only spares him a quick, half-hearted pout before returning to the task of restocking their kitchen. "of course i was serious -- i am serious, currently. and you already agreed, as well, so don't think you can weasel your way out now. too late for that, sweetheart," Seokjin turns away from their small fridge with a deceivingly saccharine smile. "i know where you live."
Yoongi's exaggerated sneer is immediately cancelled out by the twist of a smile that begrudgingly follows, so he tucks it away behind the pyramid of canned vegetables he's constructed. "so, what - you'll be frontman and lead guitar...and lead vocal, too, i'm assuming?"
"you're always saying that i have a lovely voice," Seokjin hums, his words echoing out from deep in their narrow freezebox.
"you do," Yoongi confirms.
when Seokjin turns back toward him, Yoongi methodically begins to dismantle his pyramid, passing the cans over for Seokjin to put away in their designated pantry cupboard. corn and green beans and the brussel sprouts that Yoongi refuses to eat.
"so yes," Seokjin completes his thought, even as he continues placing cans away. peas and carrots and another can of green beans because he knows they're Yoongi's favorite. "frontman and lead guitar and lead vocal. for now."
"for now," Yoongi scoffs, passing over three cans of tomato soup and one of chicken noodle. "and you'll expect me on keyboard, then?"
Seokjin shuts their cabinet doors with a flourish once he's done, spins around on the spot and then hops up to sit on the countertop. the same damn thing he gets on Yoongi's case about all the time, the beautiful hypocrite. Yoongi gets up out of his seat and starts to cross the kitchen toward him.
"of course. keyboard, synth - if we decide to go that route - and you'll be bandleader, too, obviously. you know more about music than anyone i've ever known, so who else?"
"who else," Yoongi agrees, only mostly mocking. he's come to stand in between Seokjin's spread thighs, and the height difference means he has to tip his head back a lot more than usual to look into Seokjin's face. he doesn't hate it. "you're lucky i find your bossiness annoyingly hot."
"you are one hell of a contradiction, Yoon - Ki - Min," Seokjin drawls, hooking his long legs around Yoongi's hips and reeling him in closer with them. "you hate authority, but love being put in your place." his palms are warm on the sides of Yoongi's neck, thumbs soft stroking the edge of Yoongi's jaw. "it's cute."
"i'll show you cute," Yoongi just about bites, digging his fingers into the thickest part of Seokjin's thighs to pull him forward, pressed flush against Yoongi's front.
Seokjin squeals and laughs and much as Yoongi tries to muffle the sounds with his own mouth, he knows their neighbors will be filing another noise complaint with the building's super by evening. worth it, though.
-
when Yoongi suggests the dry cleaners' son from down the block, Jungkook Jeon, for their drummer, Seokjin freezes where he stands in front of their bathroom sink. his face seems to spasm for a moment, expression shifting from immediate worry to eventual relief.
when Yoongi asks what the fuck that was all about, Seokjin just waves a casually dismissive hand.
"nothing, really," he mumbles past a mouthful of frothy toothpaste. "was just a bit skeptical for a sec - Kook is really pretty, isn't he? - but if he plays drums, i guess that's okay. he'll be tucked away at the back with his kit, so he won't be too much of a distraction with his thighs and his arms and that cute toothy smile."
Yoongi is quiet for a moment after Seokjin explains, loaded toothbrush paused in midair halfway to his mouth. this time, it's Seokjin asking what's up and Yoongi waving a dismissive hand of his own -- except the hand he waves is the hand holding his toothbrush, paste now fallen to splatter like a tiny bomb in the basin of the sink. he grabs for the tube of toothpaste with a sigh.
"it's probably nothing, really. but i was just thinking, if you almost had a problem with Jungkook because of his looks...then you might not like my suggestion for bassist, either."
"oh," Seokjin garbles, and then spits. bends down to rinse out his mouth and then straightens to grin at Yoongi's reflection in their foggy mirror. "well, i'm sure it can't be that bad."
-
"no," Seokjin grits out, arms crossed over his broad chest. "absolutely fucking not."
apparently, Yoongi's suggestion really had been that bad.
"told you so," he says, trying to keep his voice as flat and free of humor as possible. Seokjin doesn't appear to be a huge fan of the smirk Yoongi's wearing either, though, and throws his arms up in the air with a dramatic groan at the sight of it.
"Taehyung Kim..? Taehyung Kim! and you want him to stand up at the front next to me - with that goddamn beautiful face of his - playing the motherfucking bass guitar - which is arguably the sexiest type of guitar - and singing backing vocal for me - in that incredibly deep voice he has, what the hell? like," Seokjin pauses, takes a fortifying breath and then levels Yoongi with a look both incredulous and incensed. "i'm sorry, Yoon, but i have to ask -- are you out of your fucking mind?"
what Seokjin forgets, however, is that he and Yoongi have known one another their entire lives. and have been fucking each other (and fucking in love) for the last half-decade of that.
so yeah, Yoongi knows exactly what to say in order to get under Seokjin's skin.
"didn't realize you were so insecure about your looks, Jinnie," he smirks, and then sits back to watch the shitshow.
such a remark won't go unpunished, Yoongi knows very well. but much like raucous kitchen sex and the threat of neighborly intervention that comes with it - he feels the benefits largely outweigh the costs, so. worth it.
-
their little four piece has to wait a while to finally get together, working around their schedules to find a weekend they all have free; they mostly practice covers, when they do eventually manage to hold their first ever jam session. Yoongi has already started working on some original stuff for them, but covers were okay for now, helped them get comfortable playing together using songs that they all knew. and it was......good.
good, in that it was a productive day. informative.
for finding out that they suck.
or, well. okay. to be fair, they really don't sound all that bad...necessarily? just kind of, uh. lackluster. like maybe they were just missing something.
Taehyung, beautiful in both face and talent, suggests another vocal. "someone whose range is a bit higher than mine or Jin's, maybe? so we can tighten up our harmonies."
"that's not a bad idea, actually," Seokjin nods, agreeing surprisingly easily.
probably because it really isn't a bad idea. so Yoongi takes it upon himself, in his duty as bandleader, to figure out where to go from here. first things first, he heaves himself out of his seat on their frumpy couch and then leans down to press a quick kiss to Seokjin's cheek. he makes sure to scoop up a handful of change from the bowl on their coffee table before leaving the living room - and the spontaneous band meeting they'd decided to hold there - behind him.
"gimme half an hour," Yoongi shouts as he makes for the front door. "maybe less!"
then he's out in the hallway of their apartment building, taking the backstairs two at a time so he can get to the payphone down on the first floor and make some calls.
-
Yoongi's efforts eventually find them sat at a sticky, matchstick of a table in a dark, dingy bar on the outskirts of town. smokey and practically teeming with a very particular type of hip and artsy crowd, it's apparently not the sort of place Seokjin expects to find the right kind of vocalist for their group.
"listen, babe. i know you put in a lot of work on this and i'm sure you had to pull a lot of strings to even get us in here...it's just that, i don't know. this just doesn't seem like the sort of place where we're gonna find what we're looking for, honestly."
but then Jimin Park saunters up onto the small, makeshift stage tucked into a corner of the bar. and then, he starts to sing.
his voice is light and airy and gorgeous, his stage presence much the same, and when Yoongi chances a glance to his left, he can pinpoint the exact moment that Seokjin stops worrying about exact fits.
he does have just one question, though: "okay, but do we know if this guy plays any instruments? because we can't just have someone standing off to the side of the stage behind a mic stand with nothing to do but look pretty."
"well, if he agrees to come on as a backing vocalist...he would technically be singing while looking pretty," Yoongi reasons, pushing his luck by speaking slowly, as if to a child. predictably, Seokjin is not impressed by this. so Yoongi tries another (more dangerous) tactic. "i don't know then, Jin - does he really need to play anything at all? Debbie Harry doesn't usually."
Seokjin gasps so loudly that people at the tables near them whip their heads around to see what the fuck is going on. Yoongi imagines they won't be getting any answers, however, since all they'll be able to see from the outside is one man clutching at the front of his leather jacket dramatically, while another fails to hide his amusement behind the rim of his pint glass.
"okay, one - Debbie Harry is the lead singer of Blondie, so she stands at the center. my band already has a lead singer to stand at the center, and what do you know, that person is me," Seokjin has begun counting on his fingers, looking especially crooked today. "two? Debbie Harry is Debbie Harry, and she can do whatever the fuck she wants. because she's Debbie fucking Harry." Yoongi wonders if Seokjin would allow a hand massage later tonight, once they're back at home. "are you suggesting Jimin Park is on Debbie Harry's level?"
"apparently i shouldn't fucking dare," Yoongi drawls, taking another chance and reaching out for one of those hands now.
Seokjin huffs, but doesn't put up a fight. "you really shouldn't."
"then i suppose i won't," Yoongi smirks, leaning close close closer over the narrow tabletop. Seokjin inhales a sharp breath, but Yoongi forces himself to stop a safe distance away from those glossy lips. an unfair tease, if Seokjin's expression is anything to go by. to make up for it, Yoongi presses both of his thumbs firmly down the center Seokjin's palm and then raises a challenging eyebrow. "you once said that anyone could learn to play an instrument."
this time, Seokjin's huff is more of a chuckle. "i did say that, didn't i?"
"you did," Yoongi confirms, pulling away slowly to settle back in his seat. "and if all else fails, we can always just give him a tambourine to hold and call it a day."
"fine," Seokjin tosses his hair with a sniff, voice reluctant but agreeable enough.
he also doesn't wait around for Yoongi to make the next move himself, exchanging one hand for the other in Yoongi's own. Yoongi lets this happen without a word.
on the other side of the room, exiting from a door at stage left, Jimin Park appears to seek out and immediately spot their table. he starts making his way over without hesitation, pretty smile on his pretty face. before he can get within speaking distance, Seokjin smoothly tips sideways into Yoongi's space, whispers warmly in his ear.
"and just so we're clear - if anyone is the Debbie Harry of my band, it's me."
-
turns out, Jimin already knew how to play the tambourine. and the bongos. and the harmonica, as well, just a bit.
"i don't know a lot of songs on it yet," he'd shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the beanbag chair in Seokjin and Yoongi's living room. "but the lady who was teaching me says i've got the lungs for it. which i guess means i have good breath control, probably?"
from the kitchen, Yoongi can hear Jungkook not even bother trying to stifle an inappropriate laugh. when he settles back into the couch with a yogurt cup for him and Seokjin to share, Yoongi notices that Taehyung is still squirming over on the loveseat, throw pillow held suspiciously in his lap. he makes a mental note to keep an eye on those three.
but first, the five of them need to attempt another jam session with their new configuration. and it doesn't take very long at all to realize that something is still fucking missing.
somehow having known to anticipate this, however, Yoongi already has a solution on standby; another handful of change and a phone number. and it's just the one, this time, carefully written on the back of a bus ticket receipt, the ink nearly faded with age.
"you don't have to do this, you know," Seokjin tells him, later that night. more observant than he'd ever let on, it still always came as a shock to be read so plainly. "i'm sure we can find another guitarist somewhere else."
Yoongi turns around in bed to face Seokjin properly. he smiles at the worried furrow of his boyfriend's brow, reaches out to smooth it down. "yeah, but then they wouldn't be the best guitarist. and you deserve to have the best."
"uuugh, okay. fine, okay, you can call him," Seokjin groans, his pinched expression making it clear that he was neither okay nor fine with any of this. "but if he so much as looks at you the wrong way, know that i will not hesitate to stake my claim. loudly." his long arms slither out from beneath their sheets, wrap Yoongi up and pull him in tight to Seokjin's broad chest. "he may have been your first, but i'm gonna make damn sure he knows that i'm your last."
"of course, babe," Yoongi tucks his head snug under Seokjin's chin, chuckles into the hollow of his throat. "until the bitter end."
-
Hoseok arrives back in town on a friday, comes straight over from the bus depot with his bags in hand and guitar case strapped to his back. he gets settled on the couch -
"only for the weekend, i promise. i have somewhere to stay, but my...uh, friend. had to hang back and attend one last class for the semester before he joined me, so."
- and then demands to meet the others as soon as possible. not only do the six of them end up successfully playing together that first night, but also the following night and the one after that as well.
Hoseok arrives on a friday. and by sunday, he's an official member of the band.
their final, missing piece.
-
having Hoseok around turns out to be good for a lot of reasons; the added rhythm guitar had really been exactly what their band needed, in terms of unifying their sound. but even besides musically, the added presence of Hoseok just as a person who was suddenly around all the time now...also seemed to be good for them.
Jungkook has a theory about that. "he's special, you know?" he pipes up, accent still thick on certain words. "his age, i mean. he's in the middle. old enough that he's technically one of the hyungs - like you and Seokjinie - but young and casual enough that he can play comfortably with his dongsaengs - that's me and Tae and Jiminie."
or so he says.
Yoongi usually has no idea what the kid is talking about, whenever he goes on about cultural nuances like that. but then again, Jungkook's only been in the states for a handful of years, so Yoongi figures he's still getting used to not having to think about these things. mostly Yoongi just does his duty as a good hyung or whatever and smiles placatingly.
Taehyung, on the other hand, is nodding solemnly as if he also hadn't been born and raised in koreatown like the rest of them.
"Hoseok is the bridge," he intones seriously, eyes shut, both arms and legs crossed. next to him on the ugly orange carpet, Jimin falls over onto his back giggling.
Yoongi is about to tell them to settle the hell down if they were going to remain welcome in his home, when Hoseok walks out of the kitchen and addresses him. already tucking into a cup of Yoongi's yogurt, the thief.
"so did you guys mean to do the whole All Korean-American Rock Band thing, or what?"
it's a fair question, but Yoongi doesn't have a very exciting answer for it. "i mean...it kinda just happened, at first? we knew Kook and Tae from around the neighborhood --"
"and this is a pretty heavily korean populated area, i get it."
"yeah, exactly," Yoongi nods. "and by then it was the four of us, right, so when we started considering another vocal, i really didn't like the idea of randomly throwing a non-asian into the mix --"
"ew," Jimin mutters, no longer laughing as he lounges back in the cradle of Taehyung's lap. his lips curl slightly at Tae's softly admonishing be nice, Jimi, but he otherwise keeps quiet.
"-- and specifically asked around with that in mind. which led us to that bratty asshole," Yoongi finishes, with a scowl over at Jimin.
rather than looking offended, Jimin seems to preen proudly at the extra attention, which has Jungkook reaching over to pat his hair indulgently. Hoseok giggles delightedly at their antics, laughing from his chest with a spoon sticking straight out of his mouth.
"then you called me," he says after a moment, pulling the spoon from between his lips with an audible pop of sound.
Yoongi sighs. "and then i called your punk ass."
for a while, Yoongi thought that maybe it would be awkward, having Hoseok around again like this. but here they are, joking and smiling and existing in the same space. as if the last few years hadn't happened, as if Hoseok hadn't dumped him right out of high school and then completely excommunicated himself after moving up north for university.
or maybe that's just what Being An Adult actually means: growing up and moving the fuck on with your life.
either way, Yoongi doesn't get to ruminate any longer on how much things have (and haven't) changed, because right at that moment the apartment door flies open and Seokjin comes sprinting into the living room.
chest heaving and panting heavily, he looks around at all of them one by one. his grin takes up at least half of his face space when he finally says,
"i got us a gig."
-
the thing about Seokjin, is that he's beautiful and charming and actually really enjoys talking to new people. so yeah, he gets them a lot of gigs.
the other thing about Seokjin, is that he's way too fucking nice for his own good sometimes. so he goes out to find them real opportunities to play their music in front of real audiences, and somehow comes back with. well.
that first gig, the one he'd been so excited about, ends up being a quinceañera.
which was ultimately -- fine, for their first time playing a full set of songs in front of other living humans. plus, the Villanuevas were chill and the birthday girl, Rosita, was adorable. they went home weighed down by plates and plates of leftovers that night and it was a fun, if unexpected, experience. so that was fine.
but then Seokjin just...kept on coming home with more "really cool gigs" that he'd scored for them, and this is how they end up playing: three more quinces, plus two other birthday parties - an actual Sweet Sixteen one weekend and a sixtieth birthday the next - one backyard wedding, one full-on church wedding, two middle school dances, and one pet tortoise funeral.
the money is pretty decent, they all agree. but it's also pretty clear that while Seokjin is really good at getting them a lot of gigs, he's unfortunately really fucking bad at getting them the kinds of gigs that they actually want to play.
it isn't until they've returned home after playing at an all-day car dealership grand opening, that someone dares to actually say anything though.
"these gigs suck," Jungkook whines, flopping like dead weight into the beanbag chair.
Seokjin immediately stops in his tracks to whip his head around at him, incredulous frown firmly in place and bathroom break temporarily forgotten. this frown slowly hardens into a scowl as one by one, the others hesitantly nod and mumble their concurrence. Seokjin is, to put it lightly, not amused by this apparent mutiny.
"well excuse me for trying my best," he huffs, crossing bare arms over his chest. and good god, Seokjin is so obnoxiously broad - so much so, that if not for his ridiculous pout, he might actually look kinda intimidating. as it is, though... "i am the talent and visual front of this band, and honestly shouldn't even be expected to take on any other roles besides those. but since no one else seems to wanna step up --"
up until this point, Yoongi had kept mostly quiet, tired from their full day and not even fully aware of the atmosphere in his own living room. but much as he was in love with Seokjin Kim - or maybe because Yoongi was so in love with the big goof - he could never resist such a perfect opportunity to tease. so before Seokjin can continue, he quickly interrupts with a snort.
"thought this was your band, though," Yoongi reminds him. Seokjin slowly turns on the spot, his childish pout now a betrayed glare. he's so fucking cute. "that's what you always call us, right? so then doesn't it make sense for you take charge of your band in all capacities?"
just as Yoongi expected, Seokjin wastes no time in rounding on him properly, words sharp and gaze even sharper. and even though he'd been just about ready to pass out on this couch only a moment ago, Yoongi instantly perks up as Seokjin starts to make his way across the living room toward him -- because tired or not, Yoongi always gives as good as he gets.
this push and pull is one of Yoongi's favorite things about his relationship with Seokjin; heart pounding wildly in his chest, blood thrumming in his veins, the wild grin in Seokjin's stare making it clear he feels the same. Yoongi lets the room fall away around them and settles in for a fight, snarls on their mouths and laughter in their eyes, voices raised loud enough that they would most definitely be hearing from their super later that night.
the kids are used to this by now, Seokjin and Yoongi going off on each other over the silliest, most inconsequential things. Tae had once even commented that it made him feel like part of a real rock n roll band, being around this kind of energy...even if it usually just amounted to petty arguments over who had last paid for their take-out chinese.
so while Seokjin and Yoongi go at it, Jimin and Taehyung and Jungkook begin to talk quietly amongst themselves, yawning widely between every other word -- but from the corner of his eye, Yoongi can see that Hoseok never moved to take a seat and has apparently just been hovering awkwardly this entire time. he looks pretty hilarious, standing around with his mouth half-open and his eyes bugged out, but also kind of hilariously pathetic.
before Yoongi can think to put the poor guy out of his misery, however, Hoseok cuts off their bickering himself. with a cough that very obviously comes out a lot louder than expected.
"my friend, you know, the guy i've been staying with --" he starts, and then almost immediately pauses, once he notices that everyone's attention was now focused on him. but instead of shying away from it, Hoseok stares right back, eyes darting around the room and squinting into each of their faces in turn before finally seeming to come to a decision with a short nod. "my boyfriend, Namjoon - he might actually be able to help us with the venue situation."
the room is silent for a long minute, and if it weren't for how Hoseok looked so genuinely pained by his nerves at the moment, Yoongi would maybe feel a bit annoyed.
as if Yoongi had ever associated himself with heterosexuals before, and as if he would suddenly start doing so now for some reason. like, shit - that had been way more important to him than the korean thing, honestly. because fuck if he was gonna deal with straight nonsense when he just wanted to make music with his own motherfucking boyfriend...and now that he was thinking about it, had Hoseok even realized that Seokjin and Yoongi were together? what the actual fuck, Hobi --
Yoongi's contemplating whether or not it would be considered rude to point out that Jimin frequently showed up to band practice in pretty much full drag and that Hoseok himself had complimented the kid on his sewing skills more than once, his body draped in miles of flowing fabric, always a different interpretation of the same Stevie Nicks get-up he'd been wearing when Seokjin and Yoongi had first heard him sing -- when a voice interrupts his thoughts.
"so he can book us gigs?" Taehyung asks, Jungkook right behind him without missing a beat: "that don't suck?"
Seokjin automatically squawks in offense, but Hoseok is already replying in the affirmative, head bobbing rapidly with a clearly relieved nod.
deciding to show some of that mercy he didn't get to earlier, Yoongi reaches out to pull Seokjin down into his lap on the couch - effectively shutting him up - and turns to Hoseok with a pointed smile. "then bring him to practice tomorrow, Hobi. let us meet this man of yours."
-
Namjoon Kim knows people.
apparently.
to hear Hoseok tell it, the dude had started sounding more like some kind of underworld crime boss...instead of the dorky, suburban-raised political science major that ends up following him into the apartment on a saturday night; soft spoken and painfully awkward at times, Namjoon isn't nearly as mysterious as his boyfriend initially made him out to be. in fact, he's actually pretty easy to figure out - kind and clever, the type of guy that knows how to talk and when to listen.
but most importantly, Namjoon Kim knows people. apparently.
"wait," Jimin stops dead in his task, nail polish brush paused in mid-air. Yoongi calmly reaches over and slides a magazine underneath the kid's hovering hand before he drips on the motherfucking coffee table. "Madame Wong's as in the Madame Wong's? and you can get us a gig there?"
"potentially," Namjoon makes sure to stress...again. "but yeah, the Madame Wong's." most of the mouths in the room are hanging open dumbly by now, all eyes on Namjoon. he shrugs, embarrassed by all the attention. "i know a guy who knows a guy. who may or may not be related to the proprietor herself, i can't remember. not a big deal or anything."
"is this Jackson, or am i thinking of someone else?" Hoseok asks, and Namjoon shakes his head.
"nah, Jackson's a Wang. not a Wong -- though now that you mention him, i think Jackson might be able to get you guys in at the place where he tends bar on the Strip."
"wait...do you mean the Strip as in the Sunset Strip?" Taehyung practically gasps, his own bottle of nail polish thankfully closed at the moment. "holy shit, man. do you know someone who'll let us play at The Roxy too?"
conversation quickly devolves into an enthusiastic discussion about everyone's favorite live music venues, ones they've been to and those they'd like to someday play. Jungkook sighs wistfully, hands splayed out awkwardly in his lap while his nails dry, waxing reverently on how cool it would have been to play at the Starwood before it shut down for good.
while the others are distracted, Yoongi turns and speaks quietly to Namjoon. "so you'll talk to these people you know?"
"oh," Namjoon startles, a bit. this is the first time Yoongi has addressed him directly. "yeah, of course."
"cool, thanks," Yoongi nods, then smirks. "and welcome to the group, i guess."
-
all heads snap around to stare as Namjoon walks into their practice space two weeks later. he doesn't say a word until he's standing in the center of the room, and even then, Namjoon just smiles and gives them all a thumbs up. it isn't until the excited cheering has died down a bit that he attempts to speak.
"we got the gig, so now all we need to do is give them our info to make it official." when no one immediately pipes up with anything to add, Namoon goes on. "meaning i'm gonna need to give the promoters a name...which i'm assuming you guys already have.....?"
more silence. Namjoon sighs.
from behind his kit, Jungkook lifts a drumstick over his head to get Namjoon's attention. "uuh, i don't know if it was ever official...but Jin-hyung's just been calling us Seokjin and the Babes pretty much since we first got together."
Namjoon shoots the man in question an unimpressed look, but Seokjin remains completely unrepentant.
"i thought it was a good name," he shrugs. "descriptive, you know? i'm Seokjin, and you're all babes." he shrugs again, even more nonchalantly. "pretty self explanatory."
Hoseok hums thoughtfully, idly fingering his guitar. "so if we're the babes, but you're the only one named, then what does that make you?"
Seokjin doesn't even hesitate before answering.
"the alpha babe, obviously."
"oh, of course," Hoseok says - and you'd think he were being sarcastic, but his completely serious expression as he nods makes it clear that he is very much not. "obviously."
Namjoon, meanwhile, looks minutes away from walking straight back out to his car and driving away forever. for which no one would really be able to blame him.
"okay okay," he sighs once more, trying desperately to move this conversation the fuck along. "since i think we all realize why that name won't work out for you guys in the long run --"
"i realize no such thing," Seokjin mutters under his breath, compelling Yoongi to come out from behind his keyboard and give his ridiculous boyfriend a consoling pat on the back.
"-- do you guys have any other suggestions?" Namjoon finishes, eyebrows raised pointedly as if to warn against foolishness.
a pointless tactic, when dealing with this fucking bunch. but Yoongi can respect the effort.
the perfect example of this futility presents itself not even a minute later, when Taehyung opens his mouth: "remember when we played the Johnson's backyard wedding and that kid asked if our leather jackets were bulletproof?"
"he was so sad when we told him they weren't," Jimin frowns.
"yeah, but it was still pretty cute - he was so curious! and when he asked if we were boy scouts, i almost combusted."
"i still have no idea what that child was getting at...or you, for that matter," Hoseok admits.
Taehyung's nose scrinches up cutely. "neither do i, not really? i was thinking about it last night and - i don't know. something about the bulletproof thing stuck with me for some reason."
"and the scouts?" Hoseok asks, eyebrows raised.
"i don't know, okay!" arms thrown up in frustration, Taehyung's bass swings wildly from its strap across his chest. "i'm just throwing things out there. ideas or whatever."
"no, no babe," Jimin soothes, stepping closer so he can safely lift Taehyung's instrument up and away from his body. "you're good. we can probably expand on this," setting the guitar down carefully onto its stand, Jimin hums to himself. "like, maybe not Bulletproof Boy Scouts all together...since that's kinda long --"
"and ridiculous," Hoseok snorts.
"-- but maybe something a bit shorter? like, um - maybe just, Bullet...Scouts.....?" Jimin trails off with a wince, fully aware of how that sounds.
"Bullet Scouts isn't too bad, but what does it even mean?"
"does it really have to mean anything?"
"not necessarily, but --"
Taehyung has been watching this exchange between Hoseok and Jimin like one might watch a tennis match, head turning this way and that with each new volley. but when Jungkook speaks up seemingly out of nowhere, voice soft and unsure, Taehyung swivels around bodily to stare. as does everyone else, pretty much.
"bangtan," the kid says, as if that would mean anything to the rest of them. it doesn't. and that must show on their confused faces, because Jungkook shrugs awkwardly in response. "it's korean."
"we figured," Namjoon chuckles good-naturedly. "but, uh...what is it the korean for, exactly?"
"oh," Jungkook's cheeks flush a bit, and he ducks his head to fiddle with the drumsticks in his hands. "pretty much what you guys were saying before - or well, i actually don't know if it translates perfectly, but basically," he looks up with a shrug. "it means bulletproof. just, in korean."
Taehyung leans his noodly limbs over Jungkook's drum kit to pat his head. "i like it. good job, Kookie."
"me too, but. will people be able to pronounce it?" Hoseok wonders aloud. "like, i barely can...so can you imagine some drunk white guy trying to?"
"bang-tan!" Jimin bleats, suddenly, voice loud and nasally. "get those Bang Tan Boys out here!"
the room immediately erupts with laughter, the kind of thing that starts off light and then only gets worse with time. the kind where, as soon as a few of them finally begin to settle down, someone else will say something - who ordered chinese in the middle of our good, old-fashioned rock and roll show? get these goddamn orientals off the stage! - to set them all falling into one another giggling again.
"still, though..." Seokjin pants, slightly out of breath; he'd listened silently while the kids discussed options earlier, thick bottom lip caught between his teeth - but now, his pretty mouth slowly pulled into a pretty smile. "i like it."
"more than Seokjin and the Babes?" Yoongi asks, bumping their shoulders together softly. Seokjin bumps him right back.
"we will always be Seokjin and the Babes," he sniffs, nose in the air. "but -- Bangtan," Seokjin almost whispers, holding the unfamiliar word in his mouth like one might hug an old friend. "sounds like us, ya know?"
he's speaking directly to Yoongi, but the entire room answers his question, all of them nodding unanimously.
"yeah," Yoongi agrees. "i know exactly what you mean."
-
Yoongi laughs when Seokjin mentions it to him. unlike the first time, however, he's already very much aware that Seokjin isn't joking.
while they all anxiously waited around for Wong's to get back to them, Namjoon's connections had managed to pull through elsewhere in the meantime; the club where his friend Jackson works is small and its backstage area is even smaller, but they weren't all that picky about who they scheduled for opening acts. and tonight, Bangtan is first on the lineup.
their instruments were already out on stage and the brief sound check they'd been given was long over, so now all that was left for them to do was wait for showtime. the seven of them are making do, though, crowded together in one of the narrow wings just off stage.
this is when Seokjin decides to lean heavily into Yoongi's side and whisper in his ear.
"we're gonna take over the world," he says and then pulls back a touch, grin running wild across his wide open face when he meets Yoongi's eyes in the dim. "maybe not here and now, maybe not in this lifetime. but someday, Yoon. i know it."
and Seokjin just looks so sure of what he's saying, buzzing with excitement despite his seriousness, that Yoongi, practically spilling over with love, can only laugh.
"are you -- we're backstage at our first important show of this life and you're already talking about reincarnation? you're too much, Seokjin Kim."
"maybe," Seokjin can't seem to disagree. "but maybe one day i'll be just enough."
"for world domination?"
"exactly," Seokjin presses his smiling lips against Yoongi's neck just as a voice reaches them over the venue speakers.
the tech on stage is introducing their band in almost the exact same way that Jimin predicted all those nights ago, separating the syllables in their name so that they stand awkwardly on their own. and just like on that night, it makes the seven of them fall into one another laughing - until Seokjin smirks at them all and says, i like it.
on the other side of their huddle, Namjoon returns the look tenfold.
"you all better get on out there, then," he tells them, thrusting an open palm down into the center of their lopsided circle. when six more hands fall into place over his own, Namjoon grins. "two, three..."
and then, seven voices as one: "BANG! TAN!"
---