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Psht!

Namjoon looked up from his book and turned to stare at Hoseok with a now cracked open can of soda in his left hand, pen still grasped tightly in his right as he hunched over sheets and sheets of potential lyrics. The leader’s grip on the book he was reading tightened in agitation, lips pursed. Even though Hoseok was the one trying to concentrate, somehow Namjoon was the one disrupted.

Realizing Hoseok wasn’t going to notice his annoyance, Namjoon turned back to his book, trying to aim noodles into his mouth and failing miserably. He adjusted once, managing to get them inside before focusing back on the book before him.

“—the trees didn’t move as much as I did, was what I realized. No matter how still I became, my heart pounded, my chest heaved, my bones cracked, and my skin tingled. I could never be quiet, but neither could the trees. It was hard for them too, and as time passed, the noises around me only grew louder and louder and louder…until, until the silence brok—”

SSCCCRRAAAAAAAPPPEEE—

Namjoon didn’t move anything but his eyes, noodles halfway to his mouth as a wooden chair was scraped across the tiled floor towards him. Namjoon watched as the hand on the chair finally placed it maybe a foot away from where he was sitting, and the body attached to the hand plopped down onto it, and a second body fell onto the lap of the first one.

Namjoon continued to stare in confusion as Taehyung looked up at Jimin in his lap and readjusted so they could both be more comfortable, smiles landing on their hyung. “Hello,” Jimin greeted, clutching onto Taehyung with one arm and waving with the other.

Realizing this moment was going to last longer than he expected, Namjoon slowly put his noodles back into his bowl. “Um, h-hi.”

“Is this…?” Taehyung’s eyes narrowed as if even he wasn’t sure where the sentence was going. “Is this weird, hyung?”

Namjoon’s left eye twitched. “Is what weird?”

“This,” Jimin gestured at his body on top of Taehyung’s. “Is this weird?”

“Y-You mean you…sitting on Taehyung’s lap?” the leader questioned. When the two nodded, gaze intense on his, he answered, “No, not really.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean it’s only weird that you’re doing it directly in front of me, my book, and my noodles, but no, outside of that, not really.” The taller man was a second away from going back to reading when Jimin followed up with, “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why is it not weird?” Jimin specified, cuddling more into Taehyung’s lap and Taehyung accepting him with open arms.

Mouth ajar and nostrils flaring, Namjoon started to flounder. “I-I don’t know, guys, it’s just not. You do this kind of a lot.”

“Hmm,” Taehyung pondered, tapping his chin as his bottom lip jutted out. “What if I said that I could watch Jiminie dance for hours upon hours and never get tired of watching his body move to the beat of music.” Somewhere in the middle of that sentence, Taehyung’s gaze had drifted up to Jimin in admiration, and the other man’s gaze drifted down to meet it, smile making his eyes squeeze shut.

“Aww,” Jimin cooed, pinching Taehyung’s cheeks. “And what if I said I want to curl up at night with Taehyungie next to me and let his deep, soft voice lull me to a deep, peaceful sleep.”

Their gazes were fixed on one another as Namjoon’s was fixed in bewilderment on them, mouth still ajar when they tore their gazes off of each other and placed them back on Namjoon, waiting for an answer.

Namjoon leaned in slightly, dropping his book on the table next to him. “…Are you guys inviting me to a threesome or something?”

Silence, that made Namjoon’s stomach twist, and then laughter that released the tension instantly.

Namjoon breathed a little easier when his younger friends laughed loudly at the implication. “Just answer the question, hyung, I promise it’ll make sense,” Jimin said between giggles.

The older man rolled his eyes but leaned back in his chair. “Fine, uh, no I guess I still wouldn’t find that weird…sort of.”

“And why not?” Taehyung pressed.

Namjoon bit his lip, thinking. He shrugged. “I mean…that just sort of seems like…how you guys are, you know? It’s how you express love.”

“Yes!” Jimin shouted, tapping his nose and pointing at Namjoon. Taehyung had to hold his waist so the smaller man didn’t fall. “Exactly! Taehyungie and I express love in a very particular way, a way we only express with each other that embodies the purity of our relationship.”

“And what do we call this relationship, you ask?” Taehyung jumped in, and Jimin threw his hands up and said, “Soulmates!”

More silence, but this time Taehyung and Jimin felt awkward in it.

“…Also known as ‘Friends’ because we couldn’t get ‘Soulmates’ approved as the song title,” Taehyung added, and it was then that it clicked in Namjoon’s head.

The leader’s eyes widened and a smile broke out on his face. “Wait, Jimin, your song got approved?”

“Hell yeah!”

Namjoon shouted out and dished out high-fives to the younger members. “Not gonna lie, probably could have just told me that, but nevertheless, I’m proud of you.”

“Well where’s the theatre in that, hyung?” Taehyung pouted.

“No theatre, but there’s also nothing that makes me want to vomit,” Namjoon added, receiving two matching punches from the pair. He chuckled. “No but really, I’m glad. I’m also guessing that means they approved Taehyung being on the song with you.”

“Sure did!” Jimin said proudly. “We did the same presentation to them and about a quarter of the way through they approved us!”

“I think it’s because they wanted us to stop,” Taehyung muttered.

“Huh, why didn’t I do that…” Namjoon whispered to himself, receiving another round of punches from the other two. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. If anyone deserves to be gross on that song it’s you two.”

“Why thank you,” Jimin accepted. “But it wasn’t all us. When Bang-ssi heard my guide version, he said it was actually exactly what he wanted for the album unit songs. He wanted them both to sort of be a representation of our growth over the years, even though it wasn’t all of us singing on it. So, when he heard my song, he thought it was a really good showcase of the love that’s bloomed over the years between all seven of us,” The shorter, black-haired man looked lovingly down at Taehyung. “But we both agreed the song’s emotions would probably come out the best if it was me and Taehyungie on it.”

Namjoon couldn’t hold back a smile as he looked at his two friends before him. Bang Sihyuk was right. The song was for all of them, but it was made for the two of them.

“Oh!” Taehyung recalled, looking away from Jimin and back at Namjoon. “Obviously, that leaves you and Yoongi hyung for the last unit, and Bang-ssi said he wanted your song, since you and hyungie have been together the longest, to be a reflection of all the years we’ve spent together and the emotions we’ve developed along the way.”

The taller, purple-haired man nodded along, having figured as much. “Okay.” He turned back to his noodles, getting ready to finish them off when he realized the pairs’ eyes were still on him. “…What?”

“Well, I mean…have you thought about what you and hyung are gonna write about?” Jimin questioned.

Namjoon shrugged. “Not really, but we’ve been making music for years, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“Well…” Taehyung spoke up. “I mean, how often have you made music about…you guys?”

Namjoon paused at that, filtering through the music he’s made with Yoongi over the years carefully and squinting. “Uh…I mean…Well…” The noodle-mixed-bile in Namjoon’s throat felt like it was crawling its way back up. “Oh! When I wrote ‘Move’. There.”

Jimin’s eyes furrowed. “Wasn’t that more about the dorms than Yoongi hyung?”

Namjoon realized he was still frozen, and by the way the conversation was going, he wasn’t sure if he was going to unthaw anytime soon. “I mean…I said ‘Ayo Suga’ at the beginning,” Namjoon mumbled.

The two friends cringed slightly at that. “I don’t know if that’s enough, hyung,” Taehyung commented.

Shaking his head, Namjoon sprung back into motion. “Guys, it’s not that big a deal, stop freaking me out.”

“We’re serious hyung. Are you sure you and hyung can make this song?” Jimin questioned.

“Guys, we’re songwriters. We’re not incompetent.”

“Fine, then tell me…one thing you like about Min Yoongi.”

Namjoon took his time chewing and swallowing. “I mean…it means ‘Gloss’ which is pretty cool—”

“Not the name!” Jimin snatched Namjoon’s noodles away from him, leaving Namjoon defenseless. “The person! Min Yoongi! Your hyung! What do you like about him!?”

“I-I don’t know, i-it’s…it’s Yoongi.”

“Which means?”

“It’s Yoongi! H-He’s shorter than me, we’ve lived together for nine years—”

“Hyung, those are facts,” Jimin cut him off, scooching him and Taehyung even closer now to their hyung. “I’m talking about emotions. What, do you hate him?”

Namjoon’s cheeks started heating up. “N-No! Of course not!”

“Okay, then do you love him?” Taehyung pushed.

Their leader sputtered for a second before saying, “I-I don’t…not love him.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know this feels like a lot of pressure on me!”

“How is this a lot of pressure on you!? We’re literally just asking you how you feel about a guy you’ve known for nine years!”

“Well no one’s ever asked me before!” Namjoon’s voice kept getting higher and higher, breathing unevenly.

Jimin calmed at the sight of the man in distress, but not by much. “Look hyung, whether you know or not, you better figure it out soon. There’s no way you’ve been living with a dude for nine years and can’t think of anything to say about him other than he’s shorter than me, he raps, we met in winter, it’s been nine years, the sky is blue, what fucking ever—”

“Aish! Ease up will you!?”

The three—well, two, because Namjoon was currently in the middle of having a crisis—turned to look at Hoseok across the room. The man slowly approached them, soda still in hand but notebook and pen abandoned. He scowled at the younger members, patting a pale Namjoon on the shoulder before sitting beside him. “You guys are freaking him out,” Hoseok scolded, grabbing the now cold noodles back from the two and trying to hand them back to Namjoon. He took them, but his eyes were still fixed on the wall in front of him. Hoseok sighed and grabbed the chopsticks to start feeding his frozen friend.

“Hyung, you’re telling me you’ve never questioned this for the also nine years you’ve known them?” Jimin pressed, readjusting himself on Taehyung’s lap.

“Oh believe me, I’ve tried,” Hoseok responded, focus still on trying to get Namjoon to chew the rest of his noodles. “If he doesn’t eat tonight because of this, I’m gonna punch you both.”

“Wait, hyung, you’ve asked them about this before too?” Taehyung asked and Hoseok nodded.

“Yeah, back before you guys came when it was just the three of us…Shit was weird.”

“Here.”

Hoseok looked up from the computer the same time Namjoon did, looking at the flash drive that Yoongi just tossed onto the counter in front of Namjoon. As Yoongi attempted to walk away, Namjoon turned and asked, “What the hell is this?”

“The guide PDogg wanted, what the hell else would it be?”

“I told you you could wait to get this to me ‘til the weekend.”

“Okay.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“So?”

“I said that because I know you’re already working on something for Slow Rabbit as well.”

“I don’t need you thinking about me, Namjoon. I realized that you were swamped so I thought I’d get it to you early.”

“I’m not swamped. I made sure to time it so I’d get a break later today, so you trying to look out doesn’t help me.” Yoongi rolled his eyes as Namjoon continued. “I’d appreciate it if you just trusted my judgment and that what I’m doing is the best thing for both of us.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “Noted.”

Namjoon gave a tight-lipped ‘thank you’ in response.

“…What the fuck was that?”

“Exactly what I thought,” Hoseok hissed back, afraid Namjoon would suddenly fall out of his daze and defend himself. When they realized he was still lost in his head, Hoseok continued. “It was the nicest passive-aggressive shit I had ever seen.”

“Did you ever say anything?” Taehyung asked.

“Of course I did,” Hoseok sighed. “I asked Yoongi hyung about it, but it’s like he didn’t even know what I was talking about.” The dancer snorted. “But…I said something I probably shouldn’t have.”

“What’d you say?”

“I swear,” Hoseok mumbled, catching Yoongi’s attention. “Sometimes it feels like you and Namjoon don’t even like each other. It’s uncomfortable.”

“…Okay,” Jimin egged, clearly not getting it.

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Next time I came into work, Yoongi hyung wasn’t there.”

“Where is he?” Hoseok asked, spotting Namjoon in the corner.

Namjoon turned around, face neutral when he said, “Oh, hyung told me that he thought it’d be best if we didn’t work together anymore, so I’m gonna work now, and he’ll come by later.”

“…What?” Taehyung said, mouth ajar.

“Exactly,” Hoseok deadpanned, scowling now at Namjoon’s frozen form. “It took me like an hour to explain to Yoongi hyung that just because I thought something was weird doesn’t mean it is! And when I finally got that through his thick skull, they both just went back to normal like nothing ever happened!”

Jimin asked, “They never talked about it again?”

“No!” Hoseok grumbled. “So I just dropped it.”

Silence fell upon the room once more, but Jimin didn’t let it fester. “But that was years ago, hyung! It’s different now! Hyungs were young and still fighting and probably didn’t know what they meant to each other, but, but now it’s fresh, you know? They have time to really think about it! It should be better no—!”

“Jimin.”

“What?”

“I don’t think Namjoon hyung is breathing.”

At Taehyung’s words, Jimin and Hoseok look over at Namjoon, skin still pale and gaze still fixed on the wall.

“…Y-Yoon…n-nine years…w-winter…mic…microphone…”

Hoseok sighed, taking the empty noodle bowl from Namjoon and placing it on the table before standing up. “Good luck, but I’ll warn you,” Hoseok started, taking one last swig of his soda before crushing it and tossing it in the trash. Namjoon didn’t even flinch. “If Yoongi hyung was bad back then…Namjoon’s gonna be terrible now.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

Namjoon was really struggling.

“Okay, I’m gonna change the layering in this part. Tell me how it sounds.”

Has his voice always been this deep? Namjoon thought, listening to Yoongi explain how he was going to change the beat for their title track song.

Track song…

Fuck, right, I’m working. Namjoon’s attention snapped back to the screen, trying to listen to the subtle way Yoongi had changed it. It really was hard to spot, but Namjoon was used to catching these little things Yoongi did, especially in music. Now that he thought about it though, he was used to catching the little things Yoongi did even outside of that. The way his nose scrunched when he wanted to say something light-hearted but wasn’t sure if it was the right time. The way he’d always play with his fingers when he was thinking about music and play with his hair when he wasn’t. The way he never fell head-first into a grin, but slowly progressed into one, cautious of how it would be perceived. Namjoon had watched Yoongi’s smile grow larger faster the longer he had known him, and there was always a swell of pride that came with knowing he could make his hyung smile a little faster than his hyung’s own family could.

Pride, Namjoon thought, realizing all of a sudden that his gaze had fallen back onto Yoongi, song long forgotten. Is…Is pride all he felt for the man beside him? Was there nothing else? No other stronger emotion?

When Namjoon tried to linger in the feelings he had for his friend, his brain naturally shifted to ‘his hair is brown’ and ‘his hands are huge’.

It wasn’t helpful at all.

Yoongi snickered at some part of the song Namjoon was definitely not paying attention to, and said, “Sorry Namjoon-ah, but I think we may need to change that part.”

It took a good few seconds for Namjoon to realize he was talking about the backing track the leader had added into this version of their title track. It was behind his own rap, but Yoongi was right; it was awkward. He was about to agree but stopped himself.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure why he stopped himself, just that he felt the need to linger in this moment for a second, wait to see what would happen. Namjoon watched closely as Yoongi fidgeted in his seat—There. Right there.

Yoongi never fidgeted when he was working on music; he was like a statue, only moving to switch positions, but always staying there once he did.

And somehow that fidget told Namjoon that maybe Yoongi was a bit uncomfortable right now, and maybe it was brought on by something other than music.

Those brown eyes panned to Namjoon for a split second before settling back on the screen.

…Maybe it was brought on by Namjoon not agreeing with his sarcastic remark.

In any other situation, he would have spoken up, cracked a joke to relieve the tension, switched topics to something else, but something about the discomfort that only Namjoon could tell was settling in between them made him curious, made him wonder just how foggy the room could get before they lost sight of each other completely.

And like forcing honey out of a jar, Namjoon spoke up:

“I hate you.”

The response he got was expected; a short snort from Yoongi and a coy smile, eyes still fixed on the screen. Namjoon almost deflated at that, about to take the loss, but he decided to push it. “Hyung.”

The deeper tone caught Yoongi’s attention, Namjoon capturing the older man’s eyes finally. It took everything in Namjoon to keep the façade up, making his gaze neutral, even a little encumbered. “…I’m serious.”

He wasn’t serious.

But for some evil, fucked up reason, he wanted Yoongi to believe he was.

Yoongi still tried to play it up with a smile, trying to cut through the fog Namjoon was only making heavier in the room. “Namjoon, come on,” Yoongi pushed back, the smile’s brightness flickering in and out. It wasn’t long before it died completely, the heaviness in Yoongi’s eyes matching Namjoon’s. Namjoon didn’t let up when he saw it though, because if he was able to fake this heaviness himself, who was to say Yoongi wasn’t faking it as well. “…Namjoon,” Yoongi said again, softer now, cautious.

The smile was completely gone, and his eyes started to shake. They looked like his name.

Glossy.

“Do you…” It seemed like the words were getting trapped in Yoongi’s throat as well, and Namjoon felt the remanence of what he had said start to burn on his own tongue.

The glossiness turned wet.

“…Do you seriously hate me?”

And the guilt started laying on thick.

Namjoon broke like a dam, blinking himself out of his cold gaze, hating himself for even putting it on and toying with Yoongi like that. “No! No! Of course not!” Namjoon reached out to his friend, but Yoongi pulled away.

“Then why the fuck would you say it like that?!” Loud, annoyed Yoongi was back, turning to the computer if only to have something to look at other than Namjoon.

“Hyung, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I don’t!” You don’t what? “I was just!” Just fucking with your friend because you’re confused? “…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I swear.”

Well, that settles that emotion.

Yoongi sighed, but not in a way that meant he was letting it go, but bottling it up. In moments like these, Namjoon hated how easy his hyung was to read. “Whatever, it’s fine.”

“Hyung I really didn’t—”

“I said it’s fine.”

And that tone meant ‘drop it’, so Namjoon did, lips pursing and turning back to the screen as well.

He scratched behind his ear, unsure what to do now. The music was still playing now on loop, and Namjoon decided to listen this time around. He chuckled, thinking of something to lighten the mood. “You know when I was recording that—”

“Yeah, I don’t really think I wanna talk to you right now, Joon.”

Namjoon shut up immediately, nodding his head in understanding. “Um, s-should I go—?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

The leader quickly gathered his stuff and headed for the door, but before he left, he turned one last time and asked, “…You don’t hate me…do you, hyung?”

Namjoon’s shoulders dropped at the sight of Yoongi’s doing the same, turning back to look at his dongsaeng gently. “Of course not, Namjoon.”

Namjoon sighed, relieved.

“…Now get the hell out of my studio.”

“Yep. Got it.”

The door shut behind him.

And Jimin’s door opened later that night. Namjoon found himself standing outside of his dongsaeng’s bedroom door, knocking softly.

“Come in!” the voice called from inside, and Namjoon didn’t hesitate to listen, walking in awkwardly and shutting the door behind him. Jimin and Jeongguk were on the bed playing a game on the TV, controls twitching in their strained hands. Jimin was trying to cheat, unsurprising, and Jeongguk was clearly a second away from sitting on the smaller man to get him to stop.

One glance towards the door and Jimin was calling out, “Oh hey Namjoon hyung. What’s up?”

Namjoon sighed. “I told Yoongi hyung I hated him.”

“What!?”

Jeongguk crashed the car in his game, not as violently as Namjoon’s heart crashed against his chest at the sudden noise. “Y-You hate Yoongi hyung?”

“Ah, hyung!” Jimin chastised, leaning over to hug their rapidly-paling maknae. “He didn’t mean it Kookie.”

“Then why would he say it like that?!”

“Because he’s looking to get punched,” Jimin threatened, glaring at Namjoon who was still by the door dazed.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!” Namjoon whined, collapsing on the bed next to them.

“If you didn’t mean it, then why did you say it to Yoongi hyung?” Jimin questioned, pivoting away from Jeongguk to stroke Namjoon’s tussled hair.

Namjoon sighed. “I just wanted to…you know, push a little bit.”

Jimin snorted, turning to look down at Namjoon on the bed. “Didn’t both of you do enough ‘pushing’ in your pre-debut days?”

“That’s my point!” Namjoon snapped back, frantic in the eyes. “It’s been years since our relationship was tested. It just felt too…calm being around him. I just, I—” Words losing themselves in the leader’s brain, he paused. “I just wanted to see if there were holes in our relationship that neither of us could see, or worse, that we’ve both been ignoring.”

Ever afraid, Jeongguk’s doe eyes peeked over Jimin’s shoulder to land on Namjoon, and in a wary voice he asked, “And…?”

Despite the panic still simmering in the bottom of Namjoon’s chest, he smiled up at the maknae and ruffled his hair. “And nothing, Kook. Yoongi hyung got pissed, rightfully so, and kicked me out, not before assuring me that he didn’t hate me either, so…”

“…So you don’t hate hyung?” Jimin asked, just to be sure, and Namjoon nodded.

“No, of course not.”

Eyes shifting, Jimin pushed. “So then what do you feel?”

Jeongguk watched in silent confusion as Namjoon’s eyes glazed over and he fell into some stoic kind of panic, tugging nervously at Jimin’s sleeve as the shorter man just grumbled, “Here we go again.”

The panic only seemed to grow when Namjoon woke up the next day, functioning on a very shotty autopilot that only barely kept the plane in the air, falling to dangerous altitudes ever-so-often,

And the passengers didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Uh, Namjoon-ssi?”

“Wha…?”

Looking up, Namjoon locked eyes with the dark-haired, tight-lipped woman next to him.

Oh right.

Where he was and what he was doing came flooding back in an instant. PDogg asked if Namjoon could work with the new producer since it’s her first time working on an album and he wanted her to get used to conversing with the members. It didn’t really surprise Namjoon that he was asked, honestly; he’s pretty much the go-to for these sorts of things.

…The same way Yoongi was the member the staff always asked for concept feedback from. Even though Namjoon and the others had a lot to contribute to their concepts, they were passionate and irregular, so at least ten times throughout the process they’d get too caught up in the music or the imagery and forget what they were going for. Yoongi’s had to reel Hoseok and Namjoon back from making songs of hate in an album about love plenty of times, so he was usually the go-to ‘double checker’ whenever the staff got an outlandish idea from one of the other members. Usually those conversations ended in Yoongi having a talk with said member and reminding them what the hell the concept was supposed to be for the nth ti—

“So do you like it?”

Jesus fucking fuck, focus you dumbass, Namjoon berated himself, snapping his attention back to the present.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m—” Namjoon tried to shake the thoughts of Yoongi and his role in his life out of his head, focusing now back on the large screen before them. It didn’t help that he really, really, really had no idea what the fuck the string of lines and numbers sounded like—goddammit, had he been listening at all?

“Sorry, Soomin-ssi, my brains just a little fussy right now,” Namjoon apologized again, turning now to the new producer and giving her a soft smile in apology. She more or less took it, turning back to the computer.

“It’s alright, Namjoon-ssi,” she replied, smiling curtly. “Should I play it again?”

God yes. “Yeah, please.”

The song rang out through the small studio and, this time, Namjoon listened.

He vaguely recognized the beat from PDogg who played a bit for him earlier in the process. It was pop-ish, but hard drums and a deep bass in the background enhanced it, which fit with the song they were trying to create well. A smile landed on the leader’s lips; he loved listening to his producer/writer friends’ works. It was something of an honor to be able to contribute to it.

Namjoon’s hand shot out to the keyboard and, very awkwardly, landed directly on top of Soomin’s. Blinking, Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Oh, sorry, could I…” He glanced down at the keyboard, waiting for her to get what he was trying to say.

“What.”

Or not. “I just wanted to do something.”

“Oh, right!” Finally, she moved her hand back and Namjoon awkwardly rolled his chair closer. Focus on the computer, he added a new layer to the track and scrolled to a particular part, adding an 808—

“Whatcha doin’?”

He turned to look at Soomin, who looked pointedly at him, slightly confused. “Oh, I’m just adding an 808 under this verse. We can take it out later once we figure out the lyrics if it doesn’t mesh well—”

“Should you be doing that?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raised. “I mean…” He shrugged. “It’s okay if we edit the track a little bit since we’re adding the lyrics to it.”

“Are you sure? PDogg-nim worked hard on it.”

“I know!” Namjoon reassured. “But he’s fine if we change it a bit to fit what we’re gonna add.”

With a subtle nod, Soomin dropped it, leaning back in her seat and grabbing her phone as Namjoon scooted forward and played with different types of 808s to see which one fit the be—

“PDogg-nim?”

The skin on Namjoon’s hands went cold, turning away from the computer to look back at Soomin, Soomin who was on the phone with—

“Soomin-ssi? What’s up?”

PDogg.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure something was okay with you.” Namjoon kept staring, but Soomin’s eyes were fixed on her phone. “Namjoon-ssi is editing part of your track. That’s…okay, right?”

“You changin’ my track, Namjoon-ah?”

The rest of the skin on Namjoon’s arms followed his cold hands’ example and lost all blood flow. “Oh, uhm,” He never explicitly asked PDogg if he could edit his track before, he just always did and he never seemed to have a problem with it. “Y-Yeah? Is that okay? It’s just because we’re adding lyrics to it and everything, well, I guess we haven’t added them yet, but like, w-well I just know Yoongi hyung always sounds better over a slightly trap-like beat, so I put one into one of the verses where I want his verse to be because I kind of think it’ll sound better, but obviously I don’t know anything for sure, so obviously, obviously I’ll change it back if it doesn’t work out which I mean it may not so—”

Laughter cut Namjoon off, rolls and rolls of it stifling their way out of the phone. “Calm down, Namjoon, I’m kidding.” Namjoon breathed again, blood returning to his hands. “Change whatever you want. It’s yours now.”

“Okay, thanks hyung,” Namjoon responded, relieved.

“Thanks, PDogg-ssi,” Soomin responded, and Namjoon’s attention returned to her as she hung up the phone. Finally, she looked back up at him with a brighter smile than before. “Phew! Glad we got that cleared up.”

Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a chuckle at that. Soomin calling to double-check was sort of sweet, all awkwardness considered. “Yeah, me too.” Namjoon turned back to the computer, finished editing the beat, and played it for Soomin.

“…Mmm, not bad,” she said, nodding along to the additions. “…I’m sure it’ll sound better when we write the lyrics over it.”

Blink, then movement. “Oh, yeah definitely, for sure.” Buzzing. Namjoon looked down at his lap and picked up his phone. Eyes widening, he looked to Soomin. “Sorry Soomin-ssi, I have to meet up with Yoongi hyung to work on some stuff. Can we continue this tomorrow?” She nodded. “Awesome. Um, how about we split it up. I could work on the rap verses while you work on the chorus and bridges. Is that okay?” Another nod. “Cool! Then we can cross-reference and edit later. Thanks, bye Soomin-ssi!”

And he was gone.

With a sigh, Soomin stood up and grabbed her bag. Slowly, she exited the studio and opened the door after Namjoon was long gone, shutting and locking it before she made her way down the hallway.

It only took her a few steps before she arrived at the break room. She surveyed the area before her shoulders sunk. Upon her entrance, two other composers at the company turned to her with wide smiles, stirring their coffee and tea respectively. “There she is! How’d it go noona?”

“Not…bad,” she assured, dropping her bag and making her way over to the cabinet to grab a snack.

“‘Not bad’?” one of the composers questioned, steeping her tea. “I’m surprised. I love working with Namjoon.”

Ears perked somewhere else in the room, and a head turned slightly.

“I mean he’s not bad or anything,” Soomin assured, grabbing a protein bar. “But he just seemed really…distracted when I was playing him the track.”

“Distracted?”

The slightly turned head turned all the way then, Yoongi looking over at Soomin and the other two composers, listening in.

“Yeah, like…I don’t know, it seemed like maybe something was bothering him.”

Yoongi turned back to his coffee, chewing the inside of his cheek. …Bothering him. Slowly, he left the room, catching the attention of the two composers and Soomin as he left.

Once the door shut, the coffee-wielding composer asked, “Was that it, then? Did you guys at least get anything done?”

Soomin snorted, taking another bite of her bar. “He got stuff done. I think I’m learning that he’s kind of the ‘spontaneous’ type.”

The tea-wielding composer chuckled. “Yeah, that’s Namjoon alright.”

The other composer added, “It’s a pretty good quality when you get used to it.”

Soomin hummed, leaning back against the counter. “…Not all the time.”

…So maybe it was Yoongi staring this time around, but not uniformly. Namjoon was still staring way more than Yoongi was, but every time the elder got the younger to focus, he would spare him a glance, seeing what Soomin was talking about, the worried, troubled expression on his face.

“I think we could add like a record skip in here. Don’t you think it would sound good?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

But, at the very least, he was more involved today, adding ideas for their unit song beat.

“Alright, how does that sound?”

Yoongi tried not to flinch when he grabbed the mouse back. It was moist. Despite Namjoon’s calm demeanor, he was apparently sweating like an Olympic athlete.

Fuck I am so sweaty, Namjoon realized after wiping his hands down on his pants, trying to shoot Yoongi calming smiles whenever he got the chance so he wouldn’t worry, because it was very obvious that he was worried, and that wasn’t the effect Namjoon wanted to put onto Yoongi. He didn’t want him to be concerned about how Namjoon was feeling, or acting.

He shouldn’t be uncomfortable.

Everything was normal.

“I love you.”

…He froze.

God did he freeze.

Namjoon froze with him, unsure where the words that left his mouth had come from, nor did he know if he really meant them. Part of him just wanted to test what they would feel like on his tongue, spilling over the edges of his lips and into the air, surrounding Yoongi in the tight space of his studio, suffocating him if only to make sure he felt them.

But Yoongi wasn’t even looking at him when Namjoon said it and didn’t turn to look at him afterward.

…However, the pink rising up on the elder’s cheeks, matched with his worried side-eye, was enough to make Namjoon sputter. “I mean…not like I’m in love with you!” His stare didn’t go away. “I mean not that I couldn’t be in love with you, eheh. I mean…y-you’re a good hyung, and you’re smart, and funny…” Bile got stuck in Namjoon’s throat and he choked on it. “…b-but you leave your socks on when you sleep and you’re not very nice when you wake up and—”

Finally, Yoongi turned his chair towards his friend and locked him in a stare. “Namjoon, are you high? What the fuck is going on?”

“Wh—I—It’s—” The tight coil in Namjoon’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter until, suddenly, it released, allowing Namjoon to fall back into his chair like the puddle he’d slowly been reduced to the last two days. “…I’m sorry,” he told his friend, the strength in which the words “love” and “hate” spilled from his mouth nowhere to be found in his “sorry”. And yet, Yoongi seemed to know that he meant it, probably more than he meant the “I love you”.

Scooting closer, Yoongi reached a hand out and placed it gently on Namjoon’s outstretched knee. “Are you gonna talk to me like a normal person now and tell me what’s wrong?”

With a huff, Namjoon’s lips formed a pout and he stared at Yoongi through lidded eyes. “The soulmates found their perfect song.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure why or how he knew exactly who Namjoon was talking about. “So?”

“…We have to do that too, hyung.”

A snort broke from Yoongi’s throat. “Huh?”

Heaving another sigh, Namjoon sat up in his seat. “Bang-ssi wants our unit songs to…reflect the band’s journey up until now. Jimin and Tae are making theirs about their relationship and how close, and weird, granted, it is as a sort of representation to how unique our group dynamic is.”

“…Okay?” Yoongi pushed, still not getting it. “What does that have to do with us?”

“Bang-ssi wants us to do something similar…something that highlights how we’ve grown together over the years.”

“……Okay.”

Namjoon blinked and Yoongi had pushed his chair back towards the computer, pulling up a virtual notebook full of lyric ideas. “So I was looking at some stuff and—”

“Hyung!” Namjoon grabbed the armrest of Yoongi’s chair and spun it back around to face him. “I mean how we’ve grown together over the years. Not the group. Us.”

Yoongi’s expression was unchanged. “I heard you…anyway—” He turned his chair back to the screen. “So I organized the lyrics into your chorus and verses with—”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and grabbed the armrest again, turning it back towards himself, facing a disgruntled Yoongi. “Hyung. Do any of the lyrics you have written down have anything to do with what I just said?”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“I mean…maybe—”

“Hyung,” Namjoon pressed, pulling his chair closer so they were knee-to-knee. “This is serious!”

Yoongi chuckled. “Namjoon, you’re being dramatic. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it? I was talking to Jimin and Taehyung and I couldn’t even think of a sentence, better yet a word to describe our relationship. Can you?”

“Namjoon, you went to Jimin and Tae for advice? Really?” Yoongi crossed his arms. “They wouldn’t know what a ‘normal friendship’ looks like if it beat them over the head with a piano.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and matched Yoongi’s stance. “So you think we’re ‘friends’, huh?”

“Namjoon, of course. What else would we be?”

“You think Jimin and Taehyung are ‘just friends’!?”

“Who knows what the hell they are!”

“They do, hyung! That’s my point! It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks they are because they know what they are! We don’t!”

“Okay!” Yoongi shot out of his seat, grabbing his coffee as he walked away from Namjoon. “Once again, the ninety-five line is not the criteria you want to look up to for this.”

Namjoon stood up too, lips pursed. “Hobi said the same thing.” That made Yoongi twitch slightly, scratching the back of his head as he tried to look anywhere but at Namjoon. “Not just now, hyung. He’s noticed for years. And I mean pre-debut time. Years, hyung. Have we been broken for years—?”

“We are not broken, Namjoon,” Yoongi said sternly, eyes locking with him.

Namjoon was slowly approaching, but he paused, shoulders drooping, and eyes searching. “…Stop telling me what we’re not, hyung,” the leader said softly. “…And tell me what we are.”

The elder’s throat started to constrict, nostrils flaring as he scrambled for something. “I mean we’ve, we’ve known each other for, what, nine years? We used to fight a lot, now we work well together, we’re both sort of introverts.” Yoongi’s mouth was ajar, but he had run out of words.

Namjoon sighed, stepping closer once more until he was right in front of Yoongi, catching his eye despite how hard Yoongi tried to hide it. “…Those are facts, hyung,” he explained and hated how much Yoongi deflated at the realization. “…Not feelings.”

God, he needed air, water, something. Yoongi felt like he was suffocating under Namjoon’s gaze, under those eyes big enough to swim through and get lost. Yoongi thought about taking a sip of his coffee to calm himself, but he was so afraid to move, afraid to make him, this conversation, this moment any more real than it already was. And despite the topic being about their lack of a relationship, Yoongi still found himself knowing Namjoon inside and out in this very moment, so much so that he could sense what was coming next, could sense the question on the tip of his tongue.

He couldn’t take that question.

He knew he couldn’t.

So when the words started exiting Namjoon’s mouth one by one, Yoongi stopped them.

“Do you feel anyt—?”

“We’re business partners.”

Namjoon blinked, lost look fading from his eyes, replaced with pointed confusion. “…Huh?”

“We’re business partners Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi explained, a quaint smile landing on his lips as he clasped Namjoon’s shoulder. “Eternal business partners.”

Namjoon blinked as Yoongi took a starved sip from his coffee and walked past him towards the computer, taking a seat. “Wait,” The leader turned to look at his friend, expression lost again, but not as heavily distressed. “Business partners?”

“Of course,” Yoongi shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee until it was gone.

“…That’s it?”

“That’s it?” Yoongi repeated, looking offended. “Namjoon, do you have any idea how much that title means to me?”

The silence meant no.

Yoongi sighed, put down his empty cup, and clasped his hands together. “Saying we’re business partners isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t make our relationship any less personal. I mean, business partners, good ones, don’t just share their business with each other, they share their lives, their everything with one another in order to make things run smoothly. In some ways, they merge, and in other ways, they have to be their own people in order for that perfect balance to come about, right?” Namjoon stayed silent, but his eyes showed that he was slowly understanding. “Namjoon, there are married couples that couldn’t share a business, soulmates that couldn’t live together. We can do both, and that’s because what we’ve created, this relationship we’ve cultivated, is superior to all those other ones.”

Yoongi paused, waiting for Namjoon to respond, but the leader was still processing everything. It wasn’t a long time that he spent thinking about this, only a day…but when that entire day was spent spiraling in and out of his head thinking his whole life and career had been a lie…it took a toll on him. Yoongi settled back in his chair, waiting for Namjoon to respond, and when he didn’t, he took things into his own hands.

“Namjoon, we’re not broken,” Yoongi reassured, rolling his chair over to Namjoon and grabbing his wrist to pull him back towards the computer. “We’re just different.” With a plop, Namjoon fell back into his own seat, eyes still slightly glazed, but slowly settling back onto his…forever business partner. “…Now can we get back to doing what we do best, please?”

Despite his worry, despite his slight distrust, Namjoon really did want to go back to simply making music with Yoongi. Somehow, it was one of the easiest things to do with the elder.

So he dropped it, and they worked just like they always had.

“He said fucking what!?”

Namjoon flinched at the loud noise, immediately losing the game he was playing on his phone. Disgruntled, he turned to Hoseok in annoyance. “You made me lose my game!”

“Namjoon, what did Yoongi hyung say?!”

Flinching again, Namjoon put his phone next to him where he was sitting on the kitchen island as Hoseok, Jeongguk, and Taehyung pulled out the leftovers and started heating them up for the four of them. “He said we were ‘eternal business partners.’”

Taehyung snorted and Namjoon shot him a glare, which he quickly submitted under. “I know how it sounds, but he meant it alright!” Namjoon defended. “He had this whole explanation of what it meant to him and how special he thought it was. Not all married couples could start a company, you know.”

Taehyung sighed and adjusted his baseball cap as he turned to face Namjoon and Hoseok with pity in his eyes. “You gonna tell him, Hoseokie hyung?” the younger man asked, eyes still fixed on Namjoon.

“Tell me what?”

“Namjoon, Yoongi hyung nearly threatened to punch me when I referred to the two of us as ‘business partners’. In his words, it was ‘one of the biggest insults that has ever been inflicted on him from someone he considers to be closer than a brother’.”

Namjoon tried not to let his anger show on his face, but his tightened jaw was a tell-tale sign of his emotions. “…He what.”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon hyung,” Taehyung said. “I think hyung was just trying to make an excuse to avoid actually talking about it.”

Their leader sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes in frustration. He felt like he could scream.

“I mean, maybe he actually meant it this time,” Namjoon grabbed onto straws like a child grabs onto loose hair. “How long ago did he say that to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe two years ago?” Hoseok answered, grabbing chopsticks and plates from Taehyung.

“See? That’s a long time. Maybe his opinion on that term has changed.”

“Mmm, even then, hyung,” Jeongguk spoke up now, placing a plate of mixed veggies, beef, and rice in front of Namjoon with a pair of chopsticks. “Yoongi hyung feels a lot for you. That’s obvious…so I don’t really know how Tae hyung and I could’ve gotten letters from Yoongi hyung that said more about his friendship with us than he did to you.”

No matter how tightly Namjoon clutched onto his straws, they still ended up in the ocean in some poor fish’s gullet. His gaze fell, picking at the pieces of rice half-heartedly.

“He even said he loved us in our letters—”

“I get it, Taehyung!” Namjoon snapped, glaring at the three men before him. They all threw their hands up, easing away from him.

“Point is, Namjoonie,” Hoseok said softly, ruffling his hair. “I think you need to talk to him again.”

Namjoon sighed, finally grabbing his chopsticks properly. “I know.”

The food tasted bitter to him.

“Another bad day?”

Namjoon snorted as he dropped his bag and collapsed in the chair next to Soomin in the studio. “That obvious?” he questioned, and she smirked and nodded. “Yeah, things are just…weird right now with my…business partner.” God, he was gonna kill Yoongi for that title. “But don’t worry, I’m not gonna let it fuck up my work anymore.”

Soomin nodded. “Good for you, Namjoon-ah.”

“Thanks,” he said, sitting up straighter and rolling closer to the screen. “You wanna pull up the beats and your notes?”

“Will do!” Soomin answered, grabbing the mouse and plugging in her flash drive as Namjoon grabbed his lyric notebook out of his bag. “I had to play the beat on repeat for like an hour just to keep it in my head long enough to write lyrics for,” she said with a chuckle.

Namjoon chuckled back, head deep in his bag searching for his notebook. “Tell me about it. I used to play the song at like half its speed to try to think of lyrics in the moment. Needless to say, it never worked out for…” Namjoon leaned back up, notebook in hand, and squinted at the screen before him, Soomin’s virtual notepad pulled up.

Soomin carried on. “Yeah I get that. I think every lyricist did that at some point. Okay,” she said once she was settled, scrolling through her notes. “You wanna go first or should I?”

“Uh…you can go first but,” Namjoon smirked a little and pointed at the screen. “Did you write lyrics for…the whole song?”

Soomin turned to the screen, face stoic and she shrugged, “Yeah. Why?”

“The rap parts too?”

“Uh-huh. What, is that a problem?”

“I mean, no, more the merrier. I just…didn’t expect you to since we said we’d split it up. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“…Split it up?”

Namjoon stared back at her puzzled look with an equally as puzzled one. “…Yeah? Remember, I said we should split it up.”

“…You did?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, I must have not heard you.”

“…But you nodded.”

“What?”

“When I said that, you nodded.”

“Did I?”

Namjoon nodded.

“Oh…sorry.” The remorse left her face as fast as it had come. “Well, like you said, more the merrier right?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Namjoon agreed. “But now I feel weird that I didn’t draft anything for the bridge and chorus, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! We can incorporate your rap lyrics into mine so you’ll still be contributing.”

Namjoon’s mouth hung open, tongue poking at his cheek at her phrasing. “Um, yeah, of course…although we’re probably gonna make tons of changes anyway so this is most likely the first draft for both of us.”

Silence.

Namjoon looked over at Soomin. Tight-lipped, fidgety Soomin. “…You alright?”

A nod.

Jokingly, Namjoon said, “Well now I feel like I need a verbal ‘yes’ to make sure you heard me.” He chuckled.

She did not.

“I’m fine,” she answered curtly.

Namjoon licked his lips and sighed, turning to the screen. “Okay.”

Slowly but surely, Soomin went through her lyrics, explaining them and singing them along to the song’s beat as needed. Namjoon nodded along, liking her explanations around each one. As she explained, Namjoon took notes of her thought-process that led to her lyrics, making sure he’d remember it later.

“I thought it’d mesh well.”

“Yeah for sure.”

Soomin paused to look over at Namjoon, watching him jot down notes after she was done speaking. “…What’re you writing?”

“Hm?” Namjoon looked up and paused. “Oh, just notes.”

“About what.”

“Your lyrics.”

“…What kind of notes?”

“I mean,” Namjoon tried to downplay it, afraid of where the conversation would go if he kept on. “I was gonna wait until you were done explaining to discuss anything.”

“No it’s fine, you can explain now,” Soomin responded, leaning back in the chair and waiting. Her eyes unsettled Namjoon, but despite the look, he wasn’t going to filter himself. It wouldn’t be fair to Soomin if he did.

“Well, I’m mostly just making sure I jot down your reasoning behind the lyrics, as well as the ones I personally like and think we should keep and tweak a bit.”

“Tweak?” She shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “In what way?”

Internally sighing, Namjoon looked down at his notes. “Well, like the lyric ‘spring ends but we are forever’.”

“What about it?” Soomin defended. “I think it’s a good metaphor about how the seasons change but relationships don’t have to change with them.”

“Yeah, no, and I think that’s great, but maybe we could change it to ‘winter’ instead of ‘spring’. ‘Winter ends but we are forever’. I think it flows a lot better with the verse.”

“But ‘spring’ flows well too.”

“I mean yeah, but we also use spring a lot in our albums as a sort of salvation, as the season we’re all waiting for, promoting this ‘everything goes’ ideal. I think using spring in this way might counteract that.”

“But spring ends too.”

“I mean yeah, but I don’t think that’s the message we’re trying to push, you know?”

“Well no, see,” Soomin re-settled, hands jutted out. “The point of mentioning ‘spring’ is because it has that positive connotation to it. The point is to actually play on the metaphor of spring in a different way by reminding everyone that even spring is just a season, and it’s the relationships that really last longer than even spring.”

Namjoon paused, making sense of it in his head. “Huh, that’s a really good point.”

“Thank you.”

“But I still don’t think we should use it.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, stomach tightening. “But I really just think it’s a little too complicated of a metaphor to put in. I think if we use a cold season instead it’ll make more sense and flow a bit better.”

“Namjoon, you write vague lyrics all the time,” Soomin stressed. “How is this different.”

The leader tried not to take that as a personal attack and sighed. “I don’t write those without approval. Most of the time my lyrics are rejected because they make no sense to anyone else. I’m particular about that stuff.”

“So am I.”

“Soomin-ssi, I know, and this isn’t the final say, I’m just telling you what I think.”

“…So what, if PDogg likes it then it’ll go in?” she questioned.

Namjoon bit his lip. “Well, I mean we still have a long way to go to finishing the lyrics…but yes, if he likes it, then it’ll probably go in.” Soomin visibly sighed in relief, turning back to the screen. “…But I’d probably make a note with my suggestion as well so he can properly decide.”

Namjoon noticed the slight glare Soomin was giving off but ignored it, asking her if she wanted to continue. She declined.

So Namjoon went ahead with his own lyrics.

In the end, they found a few that they both liked and made sure to highlight those, Soomin highlighting a few of her own that Namjoon didn’t totally agree with, but understood her opinion on. After a few hours, they parted ways again, and Soomin headed back to the break room.

This time, she went straight to the coffee machine.

“Oh, hi Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi looked at Soomin from over his cup, blowing on it gently. “Hey noona,” he said softly, B-lining towards the sofa to scroll through his phone before he had to meet Namjoon.

The coffee and the scrolling were clear attempts to get rid of the headache.

Whether or not it would work was still up in the air.

“Another session with Namjoon wrapped?”

Yoongi looked up from his phone as the two composers returned again from the same session Yoongi just left from, going straight over to the new producer to make her feel welcome. Yoongi listened quietly.

A heavy sigh. “Yep.” Soomin popped the ‘p’.

“What? Still not getting better?”

“He still seems out of it, honestly,” she commented. “He was a few minutes late and came in looking more stressed than the day before.”

Yoongi’s shoulders slumped.

“But at the very least he came in ready to work and delivered.”

Yoongi’s heart calmed down a bit.

“Barely I might add.”

It perked moments later.

“Barely?” one of the composers asked, Yoongi’s head popping up to watch them, Soomin leaning back on the counter casually. “What do you mean?”

“He was a total dick to me,” Soomin explained. “Just because I prepared more for our meeting than he did. Honestly, it was kind of petty.”

The heat coming from Yoongi’s cup made his hand go numb, but he barely noticed it as he kept listening in.

“Really?” the other composer said, crossing her arms. “Namjoon’s not usually like that.”

“That’s surprising.” Soomin snorted. Yoongi’s eye twitched. “Like for example, I’m here explaining my lyrics to him, in detail, and he’s just jotting down all these passive-aggressive notes while I’m doing it while telling me ‘they’re great’ like I didn’t know he was writing out ways to change them right there.”

Both composers hissed and Yoongi rolled his eyes, trying to tune back into his phone, but he couldn’t.

“He even went as far as to try to one-up me over little things. Like I had this really good lyric, and he even told me it was really good, but then he keeps telling me to change the name of the season I put there when mine literally makes more sense.” Soomin scoffed. “He said that it would be hard for people to comprehend which, I mean I don’t know why he thinks his fans wouldn’t understand it. That’s weird, right? And I gently told him ‘You write beautifully vague lyrics all the time and they work super well’, and he totally side-stepped it like ‘that’s different’ even though it wasn’t different at all. It was—” Soomin stopped as Yoongi got up abruptly from the couch and stalked towards the door, making an effort to shut it softly behind himself.

Soomin and the two composers turned back towards each other, shrugged, and kept on with their conversation.

“Hey.”

Yoongi watched as Namjoon walked in, tracking the younger man’s movements carefully, looking for any sign of distress. “…You alright?” he asked.

Namjoon’s eyes landed on his briefly before looking away, but Yoongi noticed in that split second that Namjoon looked tired. So, so tired.

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered curtly, sitting down in the chair next to Yoongi and making a point to scoot it a little further away than necessary. “I just finished a session with Soomin-ssi.”

Something in Yoongi was oddly relieved that Namjoon had brought her up. “Yeah,” Yoongi exhaled, folding his legs under himself in his chair. “I can’t imagine that session was eas—”

“Did you finish the beat yet?” Namjoon cut him off, preferring to look at the blank screen instead of at Yoongi.

Poking his cheek with his tongue, Yoongi nodded, pulling it up and hitting play. They sat in relative silence as they listened to it together. During that silence, Yoongi tried to remember that they had discussed a lot of the beat over the phone or in-person so there wasn’t much to discuss now. But still,

Namjoon wasn’t even moving.

His signature ‘I like it’ expression was a head bop, a pointed look, and a smile. But the younger man was frozen in his seat next to Yoongi, leaving the older man staring in hopes that he’d be able to see inside Namjoon’s brain if he looked hard enough.

It didn’t work, and when the track ended, Namjoon cleared his throat, leaving Yoongi on edge.

“Well,” Namjoon punctuated, turning swiftly towards Yoongi with a smile unlike his usual one. “I think this track is just wonderful, business partner.”

Namjoon tracked the twitch in Yoongi’s eye at the words. “My business partner did quite a good job,” Namjoon applauded, grabbing the mouse from a half-frozen, half-bewildered Yoongi. “But your business partner, Yoongi hyung, or should I say Yoongi-ssi?”

Yoongi sighed. “Namjoon…”

“You’re right, Yoongi-ssi is better. Well, Yoongi-ssi, how about we get started on lyrics?”

Yoongi grumbled. “Namjoon-ah—”

“Oh, do you not have any lyrics prepared Yoongi-ssi? Well that’s alright because your business partner has got. you. covered.”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi reached out to grab Namjoon’s arm. “This is seriously unnecessary—”

“No no no, of course it’s not!” Namjoon answered. “Because I want my business partner to know just how much he means to me in corporate Korea.” Scrolling through his notes, Namjoon cleared his throat. “So I thought we could start the song by singing ‘ten years, ten years, ten years’ over and over again and maybe work that into the beat, and then we’ll rap over it about what we were wearing, what food we ate, and what the weather was like on the day we moved in together!” He flipped a page. “And then after that, we can go on to talk about the complexity of calendars, the history of hip hop, and what the color of each other’s underwear is!”

At that point, Yoongi was royally unimpressed and losing patience. “Namjoon—”

“Oh, and I also thought of song titles! I was thinking we could use ‘three-thousand, three-hundred and fifteen’ which is the number of days since we moved in together, and doooon’t worry! Because I made sure to include the gap year.”

“For the love of God, Namjoon,” Yoongi drawled. “You are overreacting. What kind of lunatic would count that?”

“A lunatic whose business partner clearly has no other ideas for our songs other than talking about how us two titans of the industry smoke a cigar and drink beer late nights while our wives are asleep—”

“You’re acting like a fucking child—”

“Oh, am I?” Namjoon hissed. “Because I’m pretty sure children can’t multiply three-hundred and sixty-five times nine plus one plus twenty-nine.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Children can, however, lie through their teeth, so who’s really acting like a fucking child, hyung.”

“Are you kidding me? I didn’t lie to you, Namjoon! Just because you have trouble with honesty doesn’t mean everyone is against you.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon’s tone was dangerously low. “You told Hoseok never to call you a business partner, but now you’re throwing that term at me?!”

Yoongi shouldn’t have said it, but he was tired and uncomfortable and Namjoon was just so loud and— “Did you ever consider that just meant Hoseok meant more to me than you do?”

The room fell silent for a moment, and in that moment, Yoongi felt like shit, but it bounced back faster than he could say sorry, Namjoon pursing his lips and sucking in his cheek. “…Hyung I don’t care if what you feel for me is less or more than Hoseok, that was never the point. The point is you feel something but you’re hiding it from me.”

Yoongi groaned again, spinning around in his chair. “You know for someone trying to get inside my head, you really think that you’re already there. I told you: I wasn’t fucking lying to you!”

Namjoon stared, eyes gone from frustrated to pitiful. His lips parted, and Yoongi tracked the movement, holding his breath, afraid Namjoon might stop it with his own. “…A lot of people think your passion comes from your volume,” he started, eyes still fixed on Yoongi’s. “Like the louder you are, the more truth, the more emotion, you evoke.” He snorted at his hyung. “I don’t know why anyone would ever think that.” His voice was gentle, like he was afraid he might break something with it. “You love quietly…hyung, I know that. Your real feelings come out when you’re steady…when you’re silent…” Namjoon’s nose twitched. “…And you are fucking screaming at me right now.”

Yoongi’s jaw locked, and so did his eyes; he wasn’t letting Namjoon go.

“That’s how I know you’re lying, hyung.”

Yoongi smacked his lips, pushing his chair forward in a challenge. “Then if you know so much about me, Namjoon, then you figure out how I’m feeling.”

“I can’t if you won’t open up to me, hyung!”

“What do you want me to fucking say!?” Yoongi shouted, hands flying up.

“I don’t want you to say anything except how you feel!”

“Well I don’t feel anything!”

“Hyung!”

“N.a.m.j.o.o.n.”

…Namjoon hushed, eyeing Yoongi’s softer state now.

…He stopped yelling.

His eyes still locked on Namjoon’s when he said: “…I don’t…feel…anything for you.”

…

Namjoon had to take a second, lips still parted in an empty scream that had been hushed to a whisper, words still wanting to pour out of him, but they weren’t able to latch onto one another to form sentences, or anything coherent. So he just went, “…What?”

Yoongi huffed, rubbing his eyes violently as he adjusted in his seat. “I don’t feel anything for you Namjoon…I haven’t for a while now.” He turned back to the computer, if anything, to have something to look at. “So if there’s something you’re searching for…I’m sorry, but it’s long gone.”

Noise stuttered out of Namjoon’s mouth, trying to swallow down the bile in his throat. “I…um…n-nothing?”

The crack in Namjoon’s voice almost caused a crack in Yoongi, but he tried to hold strong. Looking down at his shoes, Yoongi explained, “…It’s not that I never felt anything for you, Namjoon-ah…and it’s not that I’ll never feel something for you again but…you said it yourself, we’ve never even talked about this in the entire time we’ve known each other. Not once. We work well together, we know things about each other but…” God, it hurt. Why did it hurt? “…it’s just exposure, Namjoon…all those things we know about each other…it’s exposure. It’s not a…a feeling…it’s a condition.”

Namjoon’s teeth held onto the inside of his lip until it bled, licking up the metallic liquid and swallowing it down. It tasted bitter. Everything in the world right now tasted bitter.

“…Did you never consider that we never talked about it because nothing was there to begin with?”

Namjoon thought he might vomit on the taste.

The room’s atmosphere fell, along with its temperature now that the heat between them had died, or maybe it was never there to begin with either.

“…So you don’t even love me?”

Yoongi felt his heart crack at the question, but he still held strong, for both of them.

One of them had to be sure of their feelings.

“Do you even love me?” Yoongi countered, shifting to look at Namjoon again, who seemed offended. “Remember that you’re the one that came to me because you didn’t know how you felt either! Are you sure love for me is what you feel? Isn’t there a chance that it’s just some fake emotion we made up to make things between us easier—?”

“Stop, hyung, just,” Namjoon sucked in air between his teeth but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. “…I need to go.”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi pleaded, standing up as Namjoon grabbed his bag, eyes begging him to stay. “At least I don’t hate you!”

That stopped him in his tracks. Standing in front of the door, Namjoon turned back slowly…eyes broken.

“…I’d rather you hate me than feel nothing.”

Yoongi’s lips quivered, body feeling heavy under his words.

“…I’d rather after nine years…you feel fucking something for me…but nothing?” A cruel smile made its way onto Namjoon’s lips, his teeth trying to bite it back down. “…I didn’t spend nine fucking years with nothing, hyung.” Namjoon reached behind himself and opened the door, eyes glossed over. “…It makes me feel like nothing.”

Yoongi barely registered that Namjoon had left, only caught on when he heard the door shut…His vision was too blurred to see.

Um… Even his mind didn’t know what to think, the mind that had started the lie in the first place, the mind that had told the truth, at least part of it. That mind, was frozen, sealed shut…burning cold.

Yoongi thought that as long as one of them wasn’t broken, then it would be fine…but that wasn’t even how well-oiled machines worked. Even if the clock worked right, it was of no use if the glass was cracked.

It didn’t help that the watch cracked the glass itself.

“There’s our love detective!” Jin called out, and Jimin smacked him on the shoulder.

“Sorry hyung,” Jimin remedied. “We kind of told Jin hyung about you and Yoongi hyung’s whole ‘situation’.”

“Yah, don’t apologize to him! Namjoon-ah, you should have told me earlier! You know I don’t like feeling left out.” He pouted, and Jimin snorted and hit him with a pillow.

“Anyway hyung, how’d it go?”

“…”

“Uh…h-hyung?”

“Namjoon?”

“…I’m going to my room.”

“O-Okay. I cooked dinner if you want some.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Well, alright. I’ll put it in the fridge if you want it later.”

“Mmm.”

“Bye hyung.”

“Bye.”

His door shut.

“…What was that about?”

“I don’t know, I’m new to the situation, remember?”

“And you wonder why we don’t tell you anything…Ow! Hyung!”

“Serves you right brat.”

He heard the sigh before the door could even shut. As if I’m not tired as well, Namjoon thought walking back into the studio towards a woman that seemed to already pick up on his blossoming bad mood, despite how hard he was trying to hide it.

“Still?”

The phrasing made his chest tighten, but he pushed it down. Rolling up to the desk in his chair, he side-eyed Soomin as softly as he could and said, “I didn’t realize I was that easy to read.”

“I mean it’s not hard.”

Heaving a sigh, Namjoon went through his bag and grabbed his notebook and phone. “Well personable skills aside, I still don’t really wanna talk about it,” Namjoon explained, shooting Soomin a sympathetic look. She looked a little wary of him, and the last thing Namjoon wanted was for his mood to affect his work. “I won’t let my mood change our time together. My mind is here, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Soomin nodded and then turned away, a series of movements Namjoon associated not with understanding, but with reluctant acceptance.

“Okay, well, where are your lyrics?” Soomin turned back towards him expectantly, but Namjoon had nothing for her.

“…What lyrics?” Namjoon questioned. There was a chance she meant the rap verse lyrics he already wrote, but he went over those last time, and the tone in her voice said— “D-Did you think I would bring more lyrics?”

Soomin’s tongue didn’t move, but her eyes did roll, which said enough. Namjoon sucked on his teeth. Why doesn’t she just answer the question straight…

“I mean,” She sighed. “I just thought you’d want to prepare lyrics for the bridge and chorus since, you know, I prepared lyrics for the rap verses.”

No one asked you to do that, Namjoon thought.

“Like…” A burn reached the top of Namjoon’s lungs and he took a moment to suppress it. “…Like I said yesterday, I didn’t really think it was necessary for both of us to come up with two full songs if we were just going to collaborate anyway. So, no, sorry, I didn’t prepare any more lyrics.”

Soomin pursed her lips and shrugged. “Okay, jeez…” She picked at her nails. “I just thought you’d feel weird only merging your rap verses with mine and not having any lyrics to contribute to the bridge and chorus too.”

…Namjoon just stared, honestly how could he not. His mouth was ajar, eyes narrowed as he stared at Soomin with a unique sort of awe. He thought back to when he first met her a month ago; she was quite literally one of the nicest people he’d ever met at BigHit. She made a real effort to get to know everyone, and Namjoon was even considering going to get lunch with her once their sessions were over.

…And then their first session happened and Namjoon felt so tired that it had completely slipped his mind.

And now,

Now the thought of spending more time with Soomin was making a headache bloom inside his skull.

“Soomin-ssi,” Namjoon said softly. He didn’t like sweet-talking when he was working with someone; it never felt professional or fair to them. However, in a situation like this, Namjoon was genuinely afraid Soomin would explode if he talked any stricter. “Maybe you do it differently, and that’s fine if you do…but I didn’t really expect for us to just…merge our two lyrics together?” God, she looks angry. “I wanted us both to write something beforehand just so we could get ideas out there, but…” Why is she looking at me like that? “…but I doubt much of what we wrote is actually going to make it verbatim into the final draft anyway. I kind of figured the point is for us to work on this together while we’re here, not just merge our two ideas together. Does that make sense?”

Her lips parted, and Namjoon thought she might explode. Her mannerisms were calm, but her face was turning bright pink. The duality was sort of mesmerizing. “I’m confused, so you don’t like my bridge and chorus?”

Namjoon blinked. “No, I do! But I mean…I like my rap verses too, but I think it’s probably better to strip them both down and build them up again…together.”

Soomin shrugged, but it was far from nonchalant. In fact, it was chalant. Very very very chalant. “So what, I just wrote all those lyrics for nothing?”

The rap ones, yeah.

“No, of course not. We’re just sort of using it as a template.”

“A template for you to change?”

“Soomin-ssi, you are free to edit my rap verses as well.”

“Okay well sorry my focus hasn’t been on you and your verses when I was so busy apparently wasting my time writing my own rap verses.”

Jesus fucking christ.

Namjoon sighed, looking up at the ceiling so Soomin couldn’t see him roll his eyes. “…Soomin-ssi, I didn’t ask you to write those.”

“And babies don’t ask their parents to change them, but they do it anyway.”

Namjoon’s jaw locked, hands tightening on the armchair. “…Are you comparing my ability to write lyrics to a baby’s ability to change themselves?”

Soomin snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

It wasn’t a no.

“Okay,” Namjoon changed the subject, putting his palms flat on the desk. “I wanted us to talk a little more about it first but…I don’t think your rap verses are the best template to work from. I think mine are.” Before Soomin could launch herself into another back-and-forth dick-measuring contest, Namjoon continued. “That is nothing against your work. Again, I think your bridge and chorus are a great place to start from. But, for the rap verses, I think mine flow better with the beat and—” Namjoon stressed the ‘and’ when he saw Soomin about to cut him off. “—I know how Hoseok and Yoongi hyung rap, so I think these verses may fit them better.”

Namjoon stopped talking and waited. There was a pause.

“So you think I’m incompetent at my job?”

Kill me. Someone fucking kill me.

The male producer groaned into his hands and rubbed at his eyes, heaving. “…Soomin-ssi, that is not what I said. I just think that my rap verses fit better with their rap styles, that’s all.”

“You act like we both didn’t get the same information from them of what they wanted to be included in their verses. What, can I suddenly not read, Namjoon?”

Nostrils flaring, Namjoon licked his lips slowly, trying hard not to say something he might regret. “For the last time, it’s not about that. It’s about how the verses were written. The way they flow. Mine are more akin to their style, alright? Believe me when I say I know this.”

Soomin snorted again. Namjoon really wished she would stop doing that. “Style or not, do you expect me to compromise the essence of the song just to make it ‘easier’ for the rappers?”

God, she’s just—

“You can’t just alter everything to make it easier on your members, Namjoon. You have to be stronger than that.”

She’s just so—

“Besides, if they were real rappers, they’d be able to change with the music. If they can’t then—”

“You’ve been here a month Soomin, don’t act like you know what the hell they’re capable of more than me!”

Namjoon’s lip stuttered as if to warn him of the words about to come out of his mouth a moment too late, now only quivering in the aftershocks of what he’d let slip. His tongue ran over his shaky lip, looking away from a surprised Soomin. Fuck. He shouldn’t have lost his temper. Fuck. It shouldn’t have gotten to that point. Fuck fuck fuck.

“…Sorry, Soomin-ssi.”

“…It’s okay.”

“…Let’s just get back to work.”

“Okay.”

The two of them reluctantly got back to it, essentially getting no work done in an effort to avoid another fight. They ended forty-five minutes later, calling it a day, and Namjoon trudged his way out of the office and down the hall and to the parking lot and into the car and all the way back to the dorms before he collapsed.

Fuck he was tired.

“Are you okay?”

It was Jin’s voice.

Namjoon would probably never admit it, but after a long day of interviews, photoshoots, producing and writing, the sound of his members' voices was oddly refreshing to him, like coming home.

“Just leave me here to rot,” Namjoon moaned, feeling hands wrap around him and tug him up from the ground in front of the door.

Jin chuckled breathily. “What’s wrong with you.”

“Everything. Just leave. Save yourself,” Namjoon went on as Jin dragged him—was his hyung always this strong?—all the way from the front door to the couch. “I’m tainted.”

“With what? Dumb disease.” Jin cackled.

“Hyung, that wasn’t even funny.”

“Hush, brat.” He threw Namjoon onto the couch and collapsed next to him, burying his cold feet under Namjoon’s warm thighs. “Now what’s wrong.”

With a huff, Namjoon leaned up and faced Jin, the elder placing his cold feet in Namjoon’s lap instead. “Just a bad day,” the leader muttered, picking at his nails.

“We all have those,” Jin shrugged. “That’s usually when you come home perky and excited to get away from work. You slumping on the floor and wanting to ‘rot’ there is something more than that.”

Namjoon peered up at Jin, lips stuck in a pout. His hyung had a way of pulling out the needy part of him. He wasn’t sure if it was a superpower or a curse. “It’s the new producer,” Namjoon admitted.

Jin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, the brown-haired woman?”

The younger nodded. “Soomin-ssi.”

“What about her?”

“She’s a demon.”

Jin snorted. “Our sweet Namjoonie calling someone a demon? Do tell more.”

“Ugh, I don’t even mean that,” Namjoon groaned, rubbing his head again. “She’s not terrible, she’s just…stressful.”

“In what way?”

A noise between a grunt and a whine escaped Namjoon’s mouth. “I mean at first it wasn’t that bad, but it’s like it kept escalating the longer we worked together. Like I thought we just sort of had different ways of doing things, and that was fine. I like working with people that have different opinions than me, but it’s like all the ‘opinions’, if you could even call them that, had no backing. She was way more interested in arguing with me about why my opinions were wrong rather than arguing why hers were right! She made it seem like I was attacking her half the time and I never was! She was always the one attacking me! And she never listened to me, never. It’s like I’d say something and it’d either go in one ear and out the other one, she’d pick out only half of what I say, or she’d hear everything I said, and then choose not to believe me. Like who fucking does that? And I don’t even know her that well, so for her to be so confident that she knows me, and better yet, this fucking company better than I do? And why? Because I’m an idol? Ugh, it drove me crazy! And I was trying to be nice and maybe even find it endearing at first, but she just kept pushing and pushing and pushing and it never got easier and it’s only been three days but it’s like every day is worse than the one before and I can’t do it, hyung, I can’t, I can’t, I think I’ll die, I really do, I—”

“Ssshhhh, Joon-ah, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Sometime while he was talking, Jin had taken his feet off of Namjoon and placed the younger’s head in his lap, fingers massaging his scalp. “You’re not with her anymore, alright? It’ll be alright.” Against his mind’s will, Namjoon’s body calmed down under his hyung’s voice and touch. His cheek squished against Jin’s thigh, making it hard to speak even if he wanted to, so he just didn’t, sighing once before letting his eyes fall shut.

A few seconds passed before Jin spoke again. “It makes sense, you know?”

“…What does?” a squished Namjoon asked.

“That you can’t work with her.”

Namjoon sighed. He didn’t think it did. “But hyung, she’s nice. Like so nice. I was about to ask her out to lunch before we started working toge—”

“How was your first session with her?”

Namjoon thought back to it. “I mean…not too bad. But we didn’t do much.”

“Well there you go.”

“…Huh?”

Jin’s fingers dug deeper into Namjoon’s scalp as if to stress his next words. “Namjoon-ah, not every relationship is measured by likeability alone. You wouldn’t date me even though you like me, right?”

“…Uh…”

“Okay, nevermind. Your brain might break if you think about it too hard.” Namjoon pouted more at the truth behind that. “My point is that how well people are together isn’t just about how much you like them, but about how long you know them.” Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but Jin went on. “There are multiple instances in life where you’ve felt something deep for a person, but all those people you’ve felt that for aren’t in your life now, are they?” Jin paused as if waiting for a response. Namjoon remained silent. “That’s because no matter how much you like them in that moment, that’s a moment, and a lot of the time when those moments get longer, that likeability fades…But that’s not anything to feel bad about, Joon. So Soomin-ssi is nice, but only in the moment. Some people are like that, and it’s more important you realize it early on so you can stay in the moments where you like them…so you don’t end up spending three days with someone like her and end up hating her.” Namjoon snorted, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Yeah…”

“And hey, all that means is that there are other people out there that you like for longer than a few moments, the type of people you marry or, the type of friends you’ve known since pre-school…kind of like you and Yoongi hyung. Even though you two weren’t extremely easy to be around back in the day…I don’t think there have been too many days over the years where the two of you could say you didn’t at least like each other, haha. I mean…the type of long-term relationship I’m talking about isn’t just about exposure, it’s…it’s…”

“…It’s change.” Jin looked down at Namjoon, still in his lap, but speaking softly. “…People that are only likable in the moment…are the type of people that can’t change with time, can’t change with you…long-term people don’t just stay…they change…with you…partially because they know they have to if they want to be kept around…but also because there’s something there…something that’s always been there…something deep that…that, despite time going by…will never change.”

Jin felt something wet on his jeans, and his soft smile dropped suddenly, fingers stilling in Namjoon’s hair. “…Namjoon?”

“…Did it change, hyung?”

“…Did what change?” Namjoon sniffed but didn’t move after that, and Jin was trying to look him in the eye now. “Namjoon, did what change?”

“…Maybe I didn’t change fast enough for him…I could have tried harder, I-I-I should’ve tried harder hyung—”

“Namjoon,” Jin was panicking now, hearing the sobs wracking through Namjoon, but before he could reach out to him, Namjoon rolled off his lap and started stalking towards the stairs. “Wait, Namjoon!”

“I’m sorry, please, just…I’m sorry. I need some time,” Namjoon said, turning back to look at Jin and—

Oh.

He looked so broken.

The tears caught on the corner of Namjoon’s mouth, snot pulling on his upper lip, and the light in his eye was scattered; not soft, just burning.

Despite the itch to go to him, Jin just nodded and let Namjoon go.

A second later, he grabbed his phone and dialed.

Bang!

Yoongi and the two composers flinched as Soomin entered the break room, ears, arms, and face tinted pink and an agitated look plaguing her features.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” one of the composers asked, both going over to Soomin and patting her on the shoulder as she dropped her bag and huffed. Yoongi didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t listening this time, watching as Soomin and the two composers moved to the couch and sat down.

“It’s fucking Namjoon again!” Soomin cried out, banging her fists on the couch and trying to get her breathing under control. “He’s driving me crazy. God, how the fuck do you guys work with him?”

Yoongi watched with heavy eyes as the two composers shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t know,” they joked, trying to lighten the mood. “He can be a bit much, can’t he?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Soomin confirmed. “I mean, the guy comes in, still in a pissy mood, and it’s obviously affecting his work, so I’m trying to be sensitive and ask what’s wrong and he just snaps at me and tells me to fucking drop it. Like I’m just trying to be nice! And he’s so adamant about shutting down everything I say. He goes ‘your stuff isn’t good, I think we should use mine instead’ and I’m like…are you kidding me? You ask me to spend time outside of our sessions working on lyrics and you’re just going to completely trash them cause what, you think your stuff is so much better than mine?”

The composers laugh.

“He’s so self-involved. Honestly, it’s exhausting. All he talks about is how good his own stuff is and how much better it would be compared to mine when he didn’t even bother to finish writing his stuff. Like what a fucking asshole.”

The composers nod.

“If you ask me, someone needs to fucking remind him that he’s only a C-level producer at best.”

…

Tap.

Soomin and the two composers look over towards the sound of the plastic cup being placed on the counter, following the arm that put it there to a face.

“…What did you just say?” Yoongi asked, head tilting. His eyes are fixed on Soomin’s while the new producer’s eyes shift.

“Oh, Yoongi! I didn’t even realize you were in here,” she said, chuckling light-heartedly.

Yoongi’s tongue poked at his cheek and his finger went up. “…I said…what did you just say?”

Soomin sighed and looked sympathetically at Yoongi, a look Yoongi knew was far from real sympathy. “Yoongi, I know Namjoon’s your friend, and it’s probably hard to hear this kind of stu—”

“If you’re gonna talk shit about Namjoon, then put a ‘-ssi’ at the end. His name doesn’t deserve to come out of your mouth without it.”

Soomin’s mouth hung open, expression warping from fake sympathy to real shock. “…What did you just say to me?”

“…Do I need to put it in a song for you, Soomin-ssi?” Yoongi retorted, stepping forward. “Actually, nevermind. Even then I don’t think you’d be able to understand it.”

“Yoongi, watch it,” one of the composers snapped. “She’s your noona.”

“And you’re my hyung, but that doesn’t give you a single fucking right to sit here on your ass and nod along to insults towards a coworker you’ve worked well with multiple times.” That shut the composer up well enough, and Yoongi just had to glance harshly at the other one to get them both quiet. “Yeah…I thought so.”

“You need to watch your mouth, Yoongi,” Soomin argued, standing up now to meet Yoongi eye-to-eye. “They’re not wrong. I am still your noona.”

Yoongi’s lip twitched up into a smirk, keeping his dark eyes locked on hers, enjoying the way she fidgeted under them. “…I don’t give a fuck if you were my mom, Soomin-ssi,” Yoongi spat. “…I don’t tolerate disrespect in this team, age aside. If you’re going to act like a child then I’m going to treat you like one.”

Soomin’s eyebrow twitched, folding her arms before her as she looked down at Yoongi slightly. “And it’s my fault…that your friend is a piece of work to write with? I don’t see how being honest is somehow disrespect.”

Yoongi chuckled cruelly, stepping that much closer to Soomin. She took an involuntary step back. “You just got here Soomin-ssi. You’ve worked with him for three days. I’ve been working with him for nine years. No, you don’t get to have a fucking opinion about his work ethic, his music, or his fucking attitude, and use that to justify talking shit about him behind his back. I don’t know what company you were in before that let you get away with that, but I’m not putting up with that shit here.”

The room seemed to get a few degrees hotter, or maybe it was just the air between Soomin and Yoongi that was tempered, hot, angry breath shared between them. Suddenly, Yoongi took a step back and turned away from a fuming Soomin. “But,” Yoongi sighed. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you just need some time to realize who you’re working with.”

Soomin snorted as Yoongi went to pick up his coffee cup. “What the hell does that mean?”

Yoongi turned back to Soomin, gaze light, but his words still stung. “It means that the ‘asshole’ you think you’re working with is a globally-recognized, chart-topping rapper, producer, and songwriter who’s loved not only by millions of people around the world, but by every single fucking person in this company because he’s a saint to work with and probably the single most giving human being in this fucking world, and yes, Soomin-ssi, he’s my f—” Yoongi stopped himself, jaw locking as he thought his words through, the last few days playing back in his head. “…he’s my friend,” he continued softly. “…but he’s also so much more than that…to more than just me.” His eyes locked back with Soomin.

Poor thing looked near tears.

Yoongi took a calm sip from his coffee cup and swallowed. “So put some goddamn respect on his name, or don’t expect me to put any on yours, Soomin.”

With a heavy foot, Yoongi left the room still warm with tension and fell back into the cold.

Even with the conversation over, Yoongi’s mind was still full of Namjoon Namjoon Namjoon.

…Maybe he had more to say than he thought he did.

It was hours later when Yoongi came home, body wound tight and ready to sleep it off.

It seemed as though he’d be getting nowhere near a good amount of sleep tonight as he walked into the living room to see Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok pacing back and forth muttering to each other. “…What’s going on?”

As soon as they heard his voice, their eyes turned towards him.

And they were far from warm.

“What did you do Yoongi?” Jin pressed, walking towards the man as he took off his jacket, confused.

“What do you mean what did I do? I just walked in!”

“Namjoon’s really upset, hyung,” Hoseok explained, a lot calmer than Jin or Jimin. “Taehyung and Jeongguk have been trying to calm him down for like an hour and he’s just spiraling.”

Yoongi’s heart sunk a little at that, but he still wasn’t sure what it had to do with him. Seeing the puzzled look on his face, Jin explained, “Namjoon came home all upset a few hours ago about that new producer Soomin—”

“Ugh, well that explains it,” Yoongi interrupted, cracking his fingers as he made his way past the couch to the coffee table. “Don’t worry about that, I talked to her and—”

“For the love of God, Namjoon’s not upset because of her Yoongi hyung, he’s upset because of you!” Jimin said, walking closer to Yoongi mid-squat on the couch. “What did you say to him?”

“Me?” Yoongi said, scoffing. He stood all the way up and pushed past them. “What a fucking joke.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin responded, eyes the widest the boys had ever seen them, mouth ajar and canines showing. “What’s a ‘fucking joke?’”

“That Namjoon’s been working with some newbie that doesn’t even respect him and yet I’m the one he’s upset at!” Yoongi pressed. “How the hell is that fair?”

“Comparing his friend of nine years to some producer he just met doesn’t mean what you think it means, Yoongi,” Jin explained.

“He’s overreacting!”

“What did you say, Yoongi.”

“Nothing!”

“Nothing?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Hyung—”

“I spent the last nine years giving everything to my relationship with Namjoon and what, all of a sudden he cares what the fuck we call it?” Yoongi was turning red, frustration rising. “No, no, it’s not fair that he gets to be upset about something he didn’t try to figure out either.”

“At least he’s trying now, hyung!” Jimin pressed, stepping closer. “Are you even trying?”

“Looking for a word to describe something real isn’t ‘trying’, Jimin, that’s being desperate and letting yourself down.”

“Hey,” Hoseok cut in, voice stern. He pushed Jimin back before he could say anything else. “Look, hyung—”

“You don’t get to put this all on me, no way—”

“Hyung!” Yoongi fell silent, watching Hoseok move warily. “…What did you say?”

Yoongi swallowed the bile in his throat, chewing on his bottom lip and trying to compartmentalize all the eyes on him. “…Nothing.”

Jimin groaned, getting ready to put pressure on his hyung again when Hoseok put a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “…What do you mean by ‘nothing’, hyung?” Yoongi stayed quiet, and Hoseok sighed. “…You told him he meant nothing to you?”

Yoongi could hear Jimin seething and Jin’s disappointed sigh, but his eyes were trained on the floor. He wondered if he stared long enough if he could sink into it.

“I can’t believe you, Yoongi,” Jin scolded. “Would any of us have ever said that to you?”

“No,” Yoongi answered curtly, fidgeting in place.

“Then why, why would you say that to Namjoon?”

“Because it’s different,” Yoongi whispered and Hoseok scoffed.

“No, no, enough,” Hoseok snapped. “I am so sick of this narrative hyung that you and Namjoon are some special, weird breed. Fuck that. We’re all human,” he stressed. “Your emotions aren’t any different from ours, so don’t bullshit me and tell me that it’s somehow okay to tell Namjoon that and not u—”

“I said…” Yoongi cut Hoseok off, leaving the younger man stubbornly silent. His eyes locked with his members. “…That it’s different…not because I treat Namjoon differently…but because how I feel about Namjoon is different.” Yoongi’s jaw locked, probably to counter the quiver in his lips. “I’m a lot of things, but I am not a liar…and I wasn’t gonna lie to Namjoon, even if it’s to spare his feelings, that’s not who I am.” The room stayed silent, welcoming Yoongi to fill it. “…You all are looking at me like ‘how dare I’. How dare he ask me a question like that and expect me to just know. In the nine years I’ve known him, we’ve never even talked about our relationship, not fucking once, and he comes to me asking me how I feel like it should be anything other than nothing. Like I’m the one that was supposed to make our relationship something special…was he not part of it? Was he not responsible for making me feel like we were something too?” Yoongi tried hard to swallow past the lump in his throat, angry tears brimming at his eyes. “I have no right to say I love him…and neither does he…these stupid little things we have, knowing each other’s underwear size, what our favorite hairstyle is, what food to order for one another on a Sunday night at five PM in the rainy season, they’re just things. It’s just stuff we know, that’s it. I know him…and maybe he knows me but does that constitute…love? Friendship, even? …It’s a condition, not an absolute…I know Namjoon when he’s with his hyungs, when he’s with his dongsaengs, when he’s working, when he’s sleeping, when he’s happy, when he’s sad, but I don’t fucking know who Namjoon is when he’s with me…I couldn’t put a fucking name on what it’s like to be with Namjoon. You know why? Because it feels, like nothing. He makes me feel like nothing, and he is nothing to me.” A runaway tear trotted down Yoongi’s cheek and he brushed it away swiftly, still staring at his friend’s faces, watching them warp into something somber.

No one…said anything after that, which surprised Yoongi. He was expecting a fair amount of backlash, a stern talking to, a complete rejection of his words and his perspective…but Yoongi wasn’t sure why he was expecting that.

They’d never do something so cruel to their friend.

“…I’m gonna go,” Yoongi whispered, walking towards them to get to his room. They made way for him,

Well, some of them.

Jimin stood a foot away from Yoongi, unmoving.

Yoongi sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. He really didn’t want to have to argue any mo—

Yoongi hissed as the back of his knee slammed into the coffee table. He leaned down to grab it as Hoseok and Jin shouted out, “Jimin!”

Jimin.

Jimin just pushed him.

Yoongi looked up at Jimin like he’d gone fucking crazy.

They never,

Never,

Never

Put their hands on one another.

But then again, the look in Jimin’s eye wasn’t one Yoongi had ever seen directed at him.

“…You’re telling me if Namjoon hyung did that, you wouldn’t feel anything?”

Yoongi huffed, standing upright again, but he wasn’t there long before Jimin pushed him once more, causing Yoongi to shuffle backward past the coffee table. Hoseok and Jin hung back, utterly shocked by the coldness in which Jimin was moving, speaking, to his hyung. His friend.

“Jimin,” Yoongi tried to reason, but Jimin just shoved him again.

“Shut up, hyung,” Jimin said coldly. “You’re saying that if Namjoon pushed you, you’d still feeling nothing?” Jimin pushed again and Yoongi’s back hit the wall. “If Namjoon pushed you into a corner and told you that you were fucking nothing, you wouldn’t feel anything?”

Yoongi’s back stung, but his eyes stung more. His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Jimin who felt ten times taller before him, fist balled up into Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him forward before slamming him back against the wall. Yoongi’s back cracked and he keened.

“Jimin!” Jin called, both him and Hoseok walking forward as footsteps rushed down the stairs, Jeongguk and Taehyung watching the scene unfold.

“No, I’m not fucking done yet,” Jimin seethed, pushing Jin’s hand away as he reached towards Yoongi again, hands now balled into fists, and a guttural cry settled deep in Yoongi’s gut made its way out as Jimin’s fist beat down lightly on him, Hoseok and Jeongguk already pulling him away. “I’m not fucking done yet!” Jimin screamed, thrashing, eyes still boring into Yoongi’s. “You piece of shit! Fucking garbage!”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk called out, trying to silence the boy.

“You’re fucking nothing Min Yoongi! Fucking nothing! I hope you die! I wish you were dead!”

“Stop,” Yoongi cried, real tears falling now as he hid himself in his hands, sinking to the ground. His whole body was wracked with pain, some of it real, some of it mental but he hurt, it hurt, it hurts. “Stop please,” Yoongi begged, still looking up and seeing the blank hate in Jimin’s eyes, finally calmed down enough to subdue. “Stop looking at me like that, please, Jimin, please.” He couldn’t stand it. It was too empty. It was too empty too empty that was his friend his friend’s eyes his friend’s and they were empty.

“…Would you still feel nothing, hyung…” Jimin was breathing heavily, eyes softening only now as they looked down on Yoongi. “…if that was Namjoon?”

Piece of shit!

Fucking garbage!

I hope you die!

I wish you were dead!

…Something in Yoongi was breaking.

Or maybe it was shedding its skin, he couldn’t tell, but it was painful. It felt like a gear had been loose inside of him for so long, but he was just now feeling it, like every part of his body felt numb now knowing that that piece wasn’t where it should’ve been; part of him felt like he might die if he didn’t snap it back into place.

Hands were reaching out to him, but Yoongi didn’t take them. He didn’t deserve them.

“…That was awful, Jimin,” Hoseok said. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“…But he gets it now.”

“Gets it or not, that was cruel,” Jin hissed, his voice close as his hands wrapped around Yoongi as he cried.

He didn’t deserve the sympathy.

He didn’t.

“…Is that…” he started, voice hoarse and weak. He tried again. “…Is that how I made Namjoon feel?”

No one answered, because no one could know for sure…the only one that knew was Yoongi.

Because love or not…Yoongi knew Namjoon…

…So how the fuck did he not know how much he had hurt him?

“…Like you said, hyung,” Jimin spoke up, and Yoongi could tell Taehyung had half a mind to shut him up, but no one did. “You know Namjoon…so you must’ve known how much saying that would’ve hurt him.”

Yoongi tried to swallow. He failed this time.

He did know…and he did it anyway.

“Th…” Yoongi took a breath to steady himself, focusing on the circles Jin was drawing on his back before he spoke. “There was just…so much that didn’t feel like us,” he started, going slowly to try to piece his thoughts together well this time. “The fighting, the skinship, the professionalism, it just…there was so much early on that made me sick to think of Namjoon like that, that just…just didn’t feel right…and I was scared. I was scared that nothing was going to feel right between us, that we’d ruin the group because of it and I didn’t want that. Back then, I didn’t realize that I was afraid to lose Namjoon too…but eventually, we found something close to bliss. Some balance that just…worked so well for us…but I didn’t realize that’s what it was, that we were at peace I thought…I thought that it was…nothing…that we had finally given up on making anything out of our relationship and had fallen into this empty pit of knowing each other so well it almost felt like something but it…” Yoongi sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache having all these feelings come back to him. “…I didn’t wanna label it…and I don’t think Namjoon did either. We were…really fucking happy…right where we were…but it was scary not to know, and there were moments where we questioned it, but I was always the one to shut it down…I was so scared of fucking it up, so scared I’d ruin it like I’ve ruined all my other fucking relationships,” Jin’s hand moved faster, firmer; a reassurance. “…And I think Namjoon knew that…that’s why he never brought it up again…but I should’ve said something…” Yoongi’s breath hitched. “It should’ve never been this easy to hurt him.”

An ugly snort rolled out of Yoongi and Jin grimaced, and somehow that sparked laughter, the six of them chuckling softly at the stupidity of the moment, tears still staining Yoongi’s cheeks and shirt still ruffled from Jimin’s anger, but they were laughing.

Yoongi smiled at them. With a life like his, as long as they could laugh, he knew things would be okay…as long as they were together.

The laughter died quickly, one particularly horrid laugh missing from the bunch.

“I made cookies,” Taehyung said timidly, walking over to the kitchen.

“I’m not really hungry right now, Tae,” Yoongi answered, but Jeongguk shook his head, gesturing upstairs.

“They’re not meant for you, hyung.”

Yoongi’s mouth formed an ‘o’, processing it. It was slightly embarrassing how long it took him to understand that. Was he Namjoon’s nine-year-old friend or what?

Taehyung returned with a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and nodded towards the stairs. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

“Yeah, please never say that to me again,” Yoongi huffed, and they chuckled as Yoongi went off.

He trudged up the stairs slowly, trying to prepare his thoughts and feelings to present to Namjoon cohesively so he’d understand them.

He was trying to outline his main points when he got to Namjoon’s door and knocked softly.

No answer.

“I can hear you breathing, Namjoon,” Yoongi said.

“You physically couldn’t be able to hear that,” the younger man’s voice rang out on the other side, and Yoongi smiled. He knew what to say to get Namjoon talking when he didn’t want to talk.

“Says who?”

A sigh. “Says science, hyung.”

“Does science say anything about if cookies make you feel better when you’re sad?” Yoongi tried.

“…What kind of cookies.”

Playing a little, Yoongi said, “Mint chocolate chip.”

“Oh, go straight to hell, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckled. “I’m joking. They’re normal chocolate chip.”

“And why should I believe you?”

Yoongi sighed. “How about I ‘two truths one lie’ it. So I’ll tell you another truth so you’ll believe me.”

“Brave of you to think I’d believe you after you already lied once.”

The elder rolled his eyes. “Just trust me, alright?”

“…Fine.”

“Okay,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “Well, these cookies are mint chocolate chip, these cookies are plain chocolate chip…and I love you, Namjoon…always have.”

Silence met Yoongi on the other end of the door, and he bit his lip waiting for a response. When fifteen seconds passed, Yoongi squinted, leaned forward, and knocked again, “…Hello?”

“…That was the single dumbest thing you’ve ever done Min Yoongi.”

And then laughter, hysteric laughter, and then some rolling around, and then a sharp thud and an “Oof!” and then it was Yoongi’s turn to laugh.

“Come on, just let me in,” Yoongi pleaded between chuckles.

“It’s not locked,” Namjoon mumbled, probably still recovering from his fall.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed and he twisted the doorknob, realizing that it caved easily. He peeked into the room and couldn’t help a smile as Namjoon held his shin, pouting.

The smile didn’t last long as he remembered the back of his own shin hitting the table, the ghost of Jimin’s hands still on him.

“I um…I meant it, though,” Yoongi went on, closing the door behind him. Namjoon looked up at him, the brightness in his eyes dimming softly. “That I…y-yeah.” When Namjoon didn’t say anything, Yoongi put the cookies down on the nightstand and sat beside Namjoon on the floor, trying to remember everything he had prepared as he was walking up the stairs and unjumble them, getting ready for his opening lin—

“Stop, hyung,” Namjoon said softly, putting a hand on Yoongi’s knee, looking at him sincerely. “I know.”

Yoongi blinked, dumbfounded. He hadn’t even said anything. “…Know what?”

Namjoon shrugged. “You,” he said, smiling gently. “So you don’t have to explain the steps you took to get here…I know.” And with a deep breath in, Namjoon added, “And I love you too.”

Yoongi didn’t realize how warm he’d feel hearing Namjoon say it and knowing that he meant it. The other times felt rushed, formal, nothing real. But now, now it was…something. Meant something. “Why did that take us nine fucking years, Joon-ah?” Yoongi asked, exasperated and Namjoon laughed.

“I have no fucking idea,” he answered, leaning back against his bed. “…I think I always knew, though,” he went on. “Always knew there was something special between us but I just…we were working so well being, you know, us that…trying to put any type of label on it felt hard…scary.” Namjoon tucked his lips under his teeth and shrugged.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Yoongi added, shuffling to place himself next to Namjoon and pull his knees up to his chest. “But I was fine with the labels…at least the ones that other people gave us. It was always easier to let other people decide for us so we didn’t have to do it ourselves.”

“Ugh, we’re a mess.”

“I know.”

They sighed, taking that deep breath together, and it felt right…just like it always had, it just felt right between them.

“…So you were complaining about Soomin, huh?”

“Woah,” Namjoon uttered, turning to look at a grinning Yoongi. “Dropping the honorific, are we?”

“She doesn’t deserve one,” Yoongi muttered. “Was she or was she not a total bitch to you?”

Namjoon shrugged. “I mean I don’t know,” he admitted. “Who she was was who she was, and there was nothing so vile about working with her that would ever really make me attack her as a person. It’s just…” The leader sighed, trying to put it into words. “Jin hyung said it best, talking about how there are just some people you can work with for a long time, and others that you can’t. Not everyone is meant to stay…but the people that are, you’re meant to hold onto.” Namjoon shrugged, side-eyeing Yoongi who, for all he was worth, managed to look smug knowing who Namjoon was referencing. “There’s something really beautiful, I think, about having someone you can go back to again and again without fault…someone to change with, not for.”

Yoongi’s grin only got wider, and Namjoon shoved him slightly. “Sorry sorry, it’s just…cute to hear you talk like that,” the elder admitted. “…But I don’t care what you say. I hate her guts.”

“Haha, why? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“God, Namjoon, you should hear the shit she says about you behind your back. It’s absurd. Who the fuck does she think she is? She talks about you like she knows you, like she has any right to question your worth and credibility, to question who you are deep down. She doesn’t fucking know you. But what, just because she’s like three years older she gets to talk to you like shit? Like you don’t have any worth? It’s bullshit, you’re one of the most capable, selfless, and passionate people that I—Stop looking at me like that.”

Somehow, Namjoon’s grin was even wider than Yoongi’s, and it made the elder snort and laugh, Namjoon following suit. “Aww, thanks hyung.”

“Whatever dork,” Yoongi chastised. “I’m just saying, you’re smart, sweet, and talented. Show some respect.”

…

A beat passed before Namjoon and Yoongi looked at each other, thoughts linking as they grinned.

“…Sounds like a good concept, don’t you think?” Namjoon suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yoongi nodded his head, thinking. “Yeah, you know I do think it’s about time we taught some of these people what respect really is.” Namjoon hummed along. “I’ll go get my notebook.”

“And your synthesizer!” Namjoon called as Yoongi rushed out of the room and the younger got up to find his laptop. Footsteps returned quickly, and before Namjoon could properly turn around, he had an armful of Yoongi.

He tried not to chuckle at Yoongi’s height, but it was a little hard. They didn’t…do this very often, which they were slowly coming to terms with being fine.

Namjoon tentatively wrapped his arms around Yoongi, sighing into the moment.

It didn’t hurt to indulge every once in a while, though.

“…You better not lose respect for me Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi whispered into his shirt, and Namjoon smiled, at the height, at the comment…at Yoongi. Just Yoongi.

Namjoon’s arms wound just a little bit tighter when he said, “I never would.”