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in the years before they debuted, namjoon and yoongi got into the habit of recommending music to each other.
if they’re being completely honest, which they so rarely are, it was slightly malicious at first. they were both constantly trying to one-up each other, sharing obscure rap and underground hip hop from the 90s with one another to try to flex on each other. it was a reluctant sign of defeat whenever one of them admitted to liking the other’s most recent recommendation, so they both spent a lot of time listening to new artists, studying beats, and researching music to find songs that would impress and outdo the other.
yeah, it was a little toxic, a little macho. although the spirit of competition fueled namjoon back then to become a better producer and songwriter, he cringes now to look back on how much time he spent trying to find the perfect song to send yoongi.
in the many years since then, one thing that has remained constant is their habit of recommending music to each other.
“those who know it was never enough,” namjoon sings under his breath, one line of melody repeating over and over again as he scrubs a dish under warm water. he sings the rest of the chorus with nonsense syllables, not knowing the words but unable to stop himself from singing the catchy tune.
“hey,” yoongi says as he enters the kitchen. “you listened to it.”
“sure did,” namjoon says.
then, he bursts into a rendition of the song’s trumpet solo, using lip trills and high pitched squeaks to do his very best to sound like the instrument using just his voice.
he looks away from the dirty dishes, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of yoongi doubled over in laughter.
“what, what?” namjoon asks, faking offense. “i thought that was pretty good. i’ve been practicing.”
“it was spot-on, joon-ah, really,” yoongi giggles, slapping one hand against namjoon’s shoulder blade and letting it rest there.
a silent moment passes as namjoon keeps washing the dishes, a pleased grin on his face, warmth growing in his chest, before yoongi lets his hand fall away and steps back.
“i knew you’d like the rec,” he says, casually. the hint of smugness in his tone is only detectable to namjoon because of how well he knows yoongi’s voice, and because he expects it by now. “brasstracks is solid.”
“i knew that,” namjoon says stubbornly. “that’s why we had them help produce dis-ease.”
“just say you liked the song,” yoongi replies, equally stubborn.
“good song, hyung.”
“that’s what i thought.”
not much later, yoongi ends up seated next to namjoon on their way to a shoot, and off-handedly, casually nudges him in the side with a smile tugging at his lips.
“listen to the song i just added,” yoongi says, his quiet voice full of intent.
namjoon waits until the day is over to do so, and locks himself up in his studio so he can fully immerse himself in the song, as yoongi’s recommendations deserve. he opens spotify and clicks on the private playlist inconspicuously named “songs,” created by yoongi and saved by namjoon.
it’s a good song. it’s always a good song. even when it’s not namjoon’s cup of tea, or if it’s out of his usual comfort zone, he always sees so much to appreciate in yoongi’s recommendations, so much care and complexity in all the songs he sends over. this one, in particular, is introspective, and tells a story that makes namjoon nostalgic for something he’s never known.
you’re not gonna die for nothing
you’re more than just a boy.
it’s a wonderful story, in a nice song with great production, namjoon notes, as he scrolls through the lyrics, inexplicably dejected.
maybe namjoon’s looking for something that isn’t there. but the reason why the apparent randomness of yoongi’s playlist bothers him is that after all these years, he has no idea what makes yoongi recommend the songs that he does. they all differ in genre and mood. they don’t seem to share a common theme or message. they’re almost never love songs, that’s the only pattern namjoon has noted—which kind of stings in an embarrassing way.
he wants to accept that there’s no rhyme or reason to yoongi’s playlist of recommendations to namjoon.
but then yoongi’s fingertips brush namjoon’s arm as they pass each other by, trudging through the hallway in the early hours of the morning when they both stayed up late to work. yoongi’s voice is thick with drowsiness, his limbs slow like he’s moving through syrup, and yet…
“listen to the new rec,” yoongi says simply, and as tired as they both are, namjoon would swear that there’s something behind yoongi’s eyes. something purposeful. but namjoon can’t tell what it is, not even as he falls asleep to the song playing in his headphones.
this one is a dark, vulnerable, almost confessional self-reflection, and ends with a repetitive and simple melody with lyrics that lull namjoon to sleep. he drifts off in a haze of confusion and thoughts of yoongi.
i don’t need anyone, i don’t need anyone, i just need everyone and then some.
namjoon’s recommendations to yoongi, on the other hand, are intensely obvious. he makes his feelings clear through song, wearing his heart blatantly on his sleeve because he’s learned over the years that whatever hints he tries to drop, yoongi is incapable of picking them up.
“oh, this is good,” yoongi says as the verse transitions into chorus. he wrinkles his nose with a serious look on his face that reminds namjoon of how jungkook looks when he eats something especially delicious.
“i know,” namjoon says, bobbing his head along with yoongi even though he can’t hear the music. he’s listened to the song enough to know the lyrics well—
every year we get older, and i’m still on your side
baby, i’d give up anything to travel inside your mind
baby, i fall in love again come every summertime.
namjoon’s gotten shameless, he realizes, as he watches yoongi listen. when they were younger, just starting to use recommending music as a way to bond instead of a way to compete, namjoon had just begun to come to terms with his feelings. late one night, he tentatively added a slow song to his playlist for yoongi, titled “to suga.”
he had listened to the song for the first time that night, in a delirium of sleep deprivation and comeback stress. it had popped up in his new releases, and from his first listen, namjoon was immediately reminded of yoongi.
he barely remembered the song the next day. not when yoongi gave him an stiff thumbs up at breakfast while taking his headphones off, not when yoongi broke the silence to compliment his newest recommendation, not even when yoongi showed him the song’s title and album cover on his phone screen. only when he sang some of it did namjoon remember.
“넌 내 모든 거야,” yoongi sings, trying to jog namjoon's memory. there’s an awkward grin on his face in spite of how lovely his lower register sounds, and finally namjoon remembers the song he’d discovered at 4am last night.
you’re my everything, the lyrics go, both in korean and in english. yoongi sings the english part then, a repetitive, melancholy melody affected by his infectious laughter.
“oh, holy shit,” namjoon groans dramatically. “i actually didn’t remember the song until you sang it. is this old age?”
he looks at his hands in exaggerated bewilderment, as if inspecting them for wrinkles. yoongi sings on, his voice no longer as melodious since he can’t hold in his laughter.
“my everythiiing,” he sings with a goofy grin, his hands outstretched, and the small part of namjoon that was still unsure becomes certain. he loves yoongi.
it takes him a while, but namjoon gets more and more comfortable with sending yoongi honest songs, songs that tell tales of love and romance and just so happen to remind namjoon of yoongi. he uses the playlist to keep himself quiet about his feelings, channels all his affection and fondness into the songs that he recommends to yoongi, and yoongi is none the wiser.
he listens to an old ed sheeran song, and really pays attention to the lyrics one gloomy day. it’s a brokenhearted ballad, honest where namjoon can’t be, and so he adds it to his playlist for yoongi before putting the song on loop.
it’s been a while but i still feel the same, ed confesses, vulnerable, almost desperate emotion in his words, and although yoongi listens intently, all he does is comment on how good the song’s instrumentals are.
yoongi continues to send the absolute least romantic songs that namjoon has ever heard.
one is by kanye west, and not even the old kanye that namjoon and yoongi used to stay up late commentating about. it’s a newer song, one that uses samples and features to paint a dramatic up and down of emotion. it’s good. it’s very kanye. but it’s not especially yoongi, and not particularly namjoon, and he wonders again just how exactly this latest recommendation found its way to the playlist.
one is about partying and having fun, sang by young artists who perform the song like it’s practically an anthem to being unattached and single. it’s a catchy song with great vocals, but namjoon can’t help but be baffled by yoongi for recommending it.
one is a really lovely song written by a friend of namjoon’s, and he knows for a fact that it’s about maternal love. how it reminded yoongi of namjoon, he has absolutely no idea.
it ends up being the song that tips namjoon over the edge.
“why.” it sounds more like a statement than a question, a little firmer than namjoon had intended, but he stands his ground as he rips his headphones off and glares across the table at yoongi.
“hmm?” yoongi asks slowly, eyes still glued to his own screen from where he sits across from namjoon, still immersed in work. they had been working quietly, together in a tiny studio but doing separate projects, with nothing but silence and their laptops between them.
“hyung,” namjoon says, trying hard not to sound whiny.
“sup?” yoongi asks, still not registering the gravity in namjoon’s tone until he finally glances up and seems to recognize urgency in namjoon’s eyes. he straightens in his seat.
namjoon disconnects his headphones and slams down on the spacebar of his keyboard to hit play on yoongi’s most recent recommendation, trying hard to be dramatic. the song that starts playing is a slow, gentle piano ballad, second only to lullabies in melodious tranquility.
it’s not exactly intimidating, judging by the quirk of yoongi’s eyebrow. but he says nothing, infuriatingly patient as he awaits an explanation for namjoon’s outburst.
“do you know what this song is about?” namjoon asks, like it’s deeply offended him and not like it’s an extremely mellow and soothing song.
“no?” yoongi says. “but you seem to.”
“wonpil wrote it about his mom,” namjoon says pointedly.
yoongi blinks.
“wonpil?”
“yeah, wonpil! kim wonpil! he’s in day6!” namjoon exclaims.
“this is day6?” yoongi asks, mild surprise in his voice.
yoongi doesn’t even know who his own recommendation is by?
“okay, that’s it,” namjoon groans. “your playlist is driving me crazy. you don’t know how many hours i’ve spent trying to figure it out, yoongi-hyung—trying to figure you out. why do you send me these songs? do they mean something to you? because they don’t have anything in common. they’re totally random, it feels like, even though you always care so much what i think of them. and you added this song without even knowing who it’s by! i mean, have you even listened to it?”
“i… i put a lot of thought into the songs i send you,” yoongi says slowly, carefully.
“so you’ve told me,” namjoon argues. “but do you? because i swear, sometimes it feels like i’m looking for meaning where it doesn’t exist, with you. like i’m hoping there’s something there, when there’s not.”
finally, he gets a hold of himself, horrified he’s one step away from hurtling himself into open air, past the point of no return. he shuts himself up before he spills everything to yoongi.
“it’s not random,” yoongi says after a beat of silence, staring hard at his hands. “i pick out all the songs that i recommend to you.”
namjoon sits in front of yoongi, lost, embarrassed, but tired of not knowing.
“but how?” he asks.
there’s a hint of a grimace on yoongi’s face as he slowly stands, walks around the table between them, and sits down, stiff by namjoon’s side as he pulls namjoon’s computer between them and selects the most recent song on his playlist of recommendations.
“i like the harmonies,” yoongi says innocently, in a small voice so as not to disrupt “i’ll try” by day6 as it continues to fill the silence between them. “their voices fit together so well, at the end when the music stops and they’re singing a capella. they complement one another. it’s really quite well done. everyone sounds great on their own. but they complete each other.”
namjoon nods along to yoongi’s commentary, still confused, but it’s not like he’s wrong. at least this means yoongi does listen to the songs he sends namjoon. actually, he seems to know them pretty well.
yoongi lets the song end, the last few notes fading into quiet before the next song starts. it’s the party song, the one by kids, just being young, wild, and free.
“i actually do know who this one’s by,” yoongi says sheepishly, his eyes glued to the screen, near the song’s title. below “midsummer madness,” the screen displays the artists’ names. “88rising is a group of singers and rappers and songwriters, from different countries,” yoongi explains. “they all make music independently, and together. this is one of their bigger collabs. i’ve always really liked the vibe. everyone brings their own color to the song. and you don’t have to know them or understand the lyrics to get that they’re friends. it’s in english and chinese, you know?”
namjoon nods, feeling like he’s moving through molasses. yoongi is right, namjoon had learned as much when he scoured the internet trying to figure out what the song meant.
yoongi shrugged. “just sounds like they had a lot of fun making it together. anyways.”
he hits skip, and the next song starts abruptly.
“okay, why this one?” namjoon asks, stubborn, but he knows yoongi can see the amused grin tugging at the corner of his lips, in spite of the fact that he still doesn’t really know what’s going on. it’s good to be clued in a little, at least.
“because sometimes, kanye really knows what he’s doing,” yoongi says with an easy shrug, while “ghost town” by kanye west plays. it’s hard for things between namjoon and yoongi not to feel comfortable and natural, even when they’re in the middle of a disagreement. all their fights from their early years probably helped that happen. “and i like the vibe of this one too. it’s hopeless melancholy. it’s very you.”
namjoon, who had been nodding along, glares at yoongi. “hey!”
“in a good way,” yoongi laughs. “namjoon-ah, all these songs remind me of you. ‘midsummer madness’ is a bunch of kids collabing on a hiphop track, singing about being young and reckless and alive together. of course it reminds me of you.”
interesting take on the song that namjoon had dubbed a fuckboy anthem.
“oh,” he says, dumbfounded. “okay. what about ‘i’ll try’?”
“lots of songs with layered vocal production remind me of you,” yoongi says, casually. “you’re always so interested in the vocal line unit songs when we do them. and plus, what i said before. the way their voices complement each other, and complete each other when they’re together. it made me think of you.”
“oh,” namjoon breathes, speechless, cheeks flushing with color. he’s not used to yoongi’s blunt honesty—at least, not when he’s speaking such high praise about namjoon. it makes his heart do little somersaults in his chest, and he gulps, trying to reorganize his thoughts when yoongi so casually knocked everything in his mind haywire. “cool. sorry, i’ve been driving myself crazy with this playlist nonsense. of course you put thought into it, i—i should have known.”
“why would you ever doubt me?” yoongi asks, and it’s clearly a joke, a shy little smile on the corner of his lips, but namjoon feels compelled to answer the question seriously.
“i was—i’ve been pouring my heart into the songs i send you, and it’s just been this unspoken thing between us, i guess, and i was starting to doubt—myself, really. not you. never you, hyung.”
yoongi’s expression is unreadable, some quiet concern in his eyes as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth, a nervous habit, and lets a beat of silence pass by. when he speaks again, his voice is soft, afraid to disturb the delicate balance of quiet between them. “what do you mean, pouring your heart?”
“well,” namjoon begins, then loses himself in worry, concerned he’s said too much, but also resigned because it’s been long enough and part of him absolutely aches with the need to spill his soul to yoongi.
at a loss for words, he pulls up his own playlist for yoongi.
he starts with “every summertime” by niki. it’s one of the safer songs in the playlist, he figures.
as the spritely instrumentals begin, he carefully, slowly translates one of the lyrics to korean aloud.
“every year we get older, i’m still on your side,” he says, and it seems to take yoongi a moment to realize that namjoon is quoting the lyrics. when it clicks, yoongi blinks, and exhales, almost gasps.
“oh,” he murmurs. “so, that’s… us.”
“exactly,” namjoon says, relieved yoongi hears it too, feels it too. scared to translate the next lyrics, the more romantic ones, he scours the playlist for the next song.
“i didn’t think of it like that,” yoongi comments, as namjoon searches for another song to play. “i knew it was a fun, youthful song, about growing up, and summer, but i didn’t think of it like that. how the lyrics applied to us.”
namjoon says nothing. there’s so many things he could say, but. fear twists in his heart, and he hopes to find courage in the next song.
he clicks, and yoongi nods along as the drowsy instrumentals of “everything” by the black skirts play.
“great song,” yoongi acknowledges. “you’re a big electric guitar fan. it definitely fits the vibe of this song really well, really makes up the surreal atmosphere. i heard that in ‘forever rain’, i think.”
“yeah, you’re right. i like how it sounds,” namjoon says, taken aback. then, he tilts his head in thought. “you really listen for the vibes of these songs, huh?”
“which ones? my recs, or yours?”
“both.”
yoongi shrugs. “yeah, i think so. that’s probably the first thing i focus on, when listening to new music. the atmosphere it creates.”
“hmm,” namjoon says, and slow realization begins to fall over him like dawn settling across the night sky. something else sparks too, something like hope. “so you don’t really listen to the lyrics.”
“of course i listen to the lyrics,” yoongi scoffs. “i’m a lyricist, namjoon-ah.”
“okay, okay, but if you had to choose between a song’s vibes and its lyrics, you end up focusing more on the vibes, right?” namjoon laughs, hands up as he tries to explain himself.
“uh…” yoongi wrinkles his nose as he considers it. “okay, yeah. that’s probably fair.”
“you’re my everything,” namjoon says, without much thought, and his heart trembles in his chest when yoongi’s eyes meet his abruptly. “those are the lyrics. in case you missed when he sang it, like, the first ten thousand times.”
yoongi chuckles, but his eyes are wide and uncertain.
“uh,” namjoon says intelligently, trying desperately to muster the courage to skip to the next song. acoustic guitar plays this time, steady and sad, before ed sheeran begins to sing “give me love.”
“give me love,” yoongi reads off the screen in english, like he’s finally, finally, finally beginning to comprehend.
“yeah,” namjoon says. “with this song, the lyrics drew me in. in the second verse, he says… it’s been a while, but i still feel the same.”
“maybe i should let you go.” yoongi completes the lyric.
“yeah,” namjoon breathes.
yoongi’s eyes dart away then, frustration written clearly on his face as he glares at the computer screen. “a lot of your songs are sad. they’re about tragic love stories. i assumed it had nothing to do with—with me, because they’re about exes, or lovers, or something else that doesn’t apply to us. or, or they were upbeat and not really anything to do with love at all, based on what i could understand from the atmosphere of the song and its instrumentals.”
“it wasn’t—” namjoon manages, before his voice almost chokes out. “it wasn’t about that. the lyrics reminded me of you. every time.”
he scrolls through the playlist.
“‘wish you were here,’ by pink floyd,” he says, and then tries to translate it as best as he can. “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year… i wish you were here.”
namjoon selects the next song. “‘waves’ by kanye. even when somebody goes away, feelings don’t really go away.”
he hits skip. “‘i hate you’ by hotshot.”
yoongi interrupts him then, emotion making his voice waver in spite of the indignant smile on his face. “it’s called ‘i hate you’! how was i supposed to know it meant you like me?”
namjoon would have thought he was going to be terrified the first time someone other than himself gave any verbal indication of his feelings for yoongi—especially if it were yoongi himself. but it feels natural, like things settling into place, like a wave crashing and returning into the ocean.
“but the actual lyrics are loving!” he protests, giggles almost making unshed tears slip out of his eyes. “i want to hold you in my arms, even if it’s in my dreams…”
“you could have just told me,” yoongi says with a sniffle, and namjoon lets himself gather yoongi into his arms, pulling him into a tight embrace.
he lets a moment float by, tightly intertwined with yoongi before he continues, stubborn. now that the dam has broken, he finds his feelings rushing uncontrollably out of him.
“‘the view’ by stray kids,” namjoon says, and yoongi pinches him in the side.
“it’s not remotely a romantic song,” yoongi says.
“it’s not about the vibe,” namjoon argues, stubborn even with yoongi in his arms. “sure, it’s about self-love and all that. but i told you, it’s about the lyrics, specifically. the wind blew through the dust and carried it away. the rough, exhausting typhoon has passed, and now i can see a thousand miles in front of me. i like the view right now.”
“not remotely romantic,” yoongi repeats, petulant.
“you and me, hyung,” namjoon murmurs. “we got through the typhoon together. the dust has cleared, and however beautiful my view is now, i only have you to thank for it.”
“that’s so lame,” yoongi says, crying.
“shut up,” namjoon says, jostling yoongi in his arms just to annoy him. “wanna tell me why you recommended ‘astroboy’ by suggi to me?”
he has a sneaking suspicion already.
“it’s floaty and pretty and makes me feel like i’m space,” yoongi grumbles. “and. and you’re my astroboy.”
namjoon tries to tamper his reaction to a little gasp, but it makes yoongi shy anyways, and he pushes away from namjoon, going so far as to stand in the corner of the room. yoongi speaks into the wall. “shut up. shut up. literally leave me alone.”
“what about ‘clementine’ by halsey? or ‘those who know’ by brasstracks?”
“shut up, namjoon-ah, they just reminded me of you. they all reminded me of you.”
“how so?”
“the songs i send you, they’re how i see you,” yoongi blurts. “they’re introspective, and carefully put together, and complex. i recommend them to you because they’re beautiful. like you.”
his words send a shiver down namjoon’s spine.
he sighs.
“what have we been doing?”
“being idiots, i guess.”
yoongi tries hard to seem annoyed while namjoon comes to him, but even he can’t stop the smile from blooming across his face as namjoon kisses him, wholly, reverently, finally.