Chapter Text
Yoongi had never really been a fan of classical music.
He understood the importance of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven and whatnot, got that they were geniuses, but classical music put him to sleep. His sister called him unsophisticated and low class, and he just shrugged and put his headphones over her nagging. He’d rather listen to hiphop than old people on pianos and violins, anyway.
He’d let his sister nag him into attending the piano concert that was happening nearby, and he was fully prepared to hide his earphones from her and listen to his own music. She was talking about how the pianist had been awarded at so many global competitions, in Germany and Italy and England and just everywhere else in Europe. “Oh, and he’s cute.”
Yoongi snorted. How cute could a guy on a piano get? He was expecting a fat old balding guy. Or if he was young, a full-on nerd with greasy hair, lots of acne, and thick glasses. There weren’t even pictures of him on the poster.
He sighed and looked down at himself. He’d had to wear fucking formal clothes for the event and Namjoon had laughed at him for hours. His sleeves were too long and his pants were too wide. Everything fit weirdly and he felt so out of place even as his sister led him to their seats. “Nice seats,” he muttered, wondering if it even mattered. She’d somehow managed to get second row, dead center. “I thought you said this guy was famous.”
“He is,” she rolled his eyes. “I just have connections.” She tugged the ends of her dress gleefully. “I’ve been waiting to see this guy for years. I’ve been a fan for years. YEARS. I loved him more than I've known you.”
“Great.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, fully knowing that was impossible. He leaned back on the seat, eyes narrowing on the single piano on the stage. A single piano for the crowd. Yoongi was used to multiple instruments, from all sorts of percussion to guitars and sometimes piano (and always the electric kind). He was used to a loud audience, one that screamed and cheered and got drunk. Not one that sat quietly in suits.
He surreptitiously pushed an earbud into his ear, glancing over to make sure his sister hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t, and the lights dimmed and there was thunderous applause as the pianist walked onto the stage, clad in a tuxedo.
The light illuminated the stage and the man and Yoongi’s jaw dropped. His sister sniggered and whispered, “I told you he was cute. He gets girls who come to his concerts just to see him.”
He was. Yoongi tugged the earbud out of his ear, mesmerized by the smile on the pianist’s face. His eyes flitted over to the program book and he found himself wondering why the hell the face wasn’t all over the posters. He slid his phone out and typed the name in the search box.
Kim Seokjin. Genius pianist, the most decorated classical musician in Korea at age 23. He was a year older than Yoongi himself, and Yoongi found himself flinching when the piano music started to echo in the halls. The music was slow at first, the clear sound ringing melodiously through the audience, and then reached a climax that had Yoongi totally stunned.
He didn’t recognize any of the songs that the pianist played, but he paid sharp attention to every single note, completely taken over by the way each note was being played. And it wasn’t because he was just good looking. Yoongi found himself startled once again at the end when he was snapped from his daze by the pianist standing to a loud applause. He couldn’t even stand like everyone else because he was so mesmerized, and when the pianist spoke, he blinked in surprise again.
The pianist was giggly. He kept covering his mouth as he talked, breaking into a fit of giggles as he talked about how excited he was to be back in Korea and how he'd missed Korean food. His fangirls squealed and giggled along with him and the others looked like they were amused.
Yoongi was stricken. It was totally unfair for someone to be so talented, so good looking and so… so fucking adorable. He half-listened to his sister as she prattled about how amazing the performance had been, how Yoongi should be grateful she even got tickets for the event because they were sold out immediately, and how the pianist was just so damned cute.
He wandered around Seoul after dropping his sister off at home (he didn’t forget a snarky remark about just stealing her husband’s car next time), went into a bookstore and bought all the albums of the pianist he could find. None of the albums had the pianist’s face and somehow Yoongi wasn’t disappointed with that. He wandered around Seoul again, popping into a bakery to buy a piece of cake his sister liked that he’d stupidly grown a fondness for because he’d eaten it so many times by now.
He found himself back at the concert hall for no reason. It was closed, as he’d expected, and he plopped down on the steps, looking through the CDs he’d just bought. He didn’t recognize any of the song names, though he did recognize the names like Beethoven and Chopin. He unwrapped the plastic off one of them and started looking through the album, half wishing he’d brought his car so he could just pop the CDs in the car and listen.
“A fan?” A voice said, and Yoongi looked up.
He jumped immediately in surprise, almost sending his cake slice off into the air, but managed to catch it. It was the pianist, dressed in jeans and a loose knit. “Holy shit,” Yoongi cursed, fumbling with the CDs. “Uh.”
“You were in the second row.” The pianist giggled. “In the center. With your girlfriend, right? You looked utterly bored when you were there, so I figured she brought you over, but maybe not?” He sat next to Yoongi on the steps. “You looked totally taken by what I played. It’s rare that I have an effect like that on anyone. Actually I think it’s my first time..” He dissolved into a fit of giggles again. “Sorry, I laugh a lot when I’m nervous.”
“You’re nervous.” Yoongi muttered, but couldn’t help but notice how attractive the pianist was up close. “I’m the one sitting next to a genius pianist. Oh. She’s not my girlfriend. My sister.”
Seokjin giggled again, apologized, and he took the opened CD from Yoongi’s hands. His eyes softened and he hummed lowly – Yoongi recognized the song but couldn’t exactly put the title to it. “Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu. It’s what got me into the piano. I loved the song as a child. The concert organizers don’t want me playing it anymore, sadly, because I’ve played it so many times.” He sighed and traced his finger along the spine of the CD. “It’s the first track on this, and then…” He looked over into Yoongi’s bag and pointed to a light-pink colored one. “The last track on that one. Sometimes when I feel like torturing myself I play them back to back to hear how bad I was the first time. But you know.. I like the first one more. Even if it kind of sounds bad.” He giggled again, hiding his lips behind his hands. “You know, I was hoping really hard that I’d get to see you again. I’m kind of glad?” He giggled again, and then fanned his face. He was blushing, a little, and Yoongi didn’t realize someone could be so pretty under dim streetlights at night.
“I’d like to see you again,” Yoongi blurted. He looked down at the cake piece container. “I’ll give you cake for your number.”
--
That night, as Yoongi stumbled back into his apartment, he thanked fuck that Seokjin was interested and he didn’t mind bad pickup lines. Not that it was a pickup line because Yoongi wasn’t romantically interested. He’d just met Seokjin. It was just something about the way Seokjin’s fingers glided across the piano keys.
Yoongi was a musician. Sure, not a classical one, but a musician nonetheless. He spoke the language of music, and he’d never met someone who spoke it as well as Seokjin did.
He checked his phone to see that Seokjin had sent him a picture of the cake container, opened now to reveal its squished contents. Even the little bunny emoticon giggling was so Seokjin that Yoongi couldn’t help but grin.
Yoongi popped the CDs into his speakers and played the first track like Seokjin had told him to, letting it play as he plopped down on his couch to text Seokjin back. He didn’t use emoticons, but Seokjin did and he used them abundantly, so Yoongi’s messenger screen soon became filled with little bunnies giggling. He looked up when the music changed and was about to change the CD to the pink one, but the soft music that played next stopped him. Checking the tracklist told him the song was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
He messaged, [I want to listen to the newer version but I can’t take the CD out.] He got a little pink bunny with a floating question mark in reply. [The music is really beautiful.] A blushing bunny came in response and Yoongi smiled. [I’ll just keep listening to this one.]
[I’ve never met someone who told me my music moved them as much as you did.] Seokjin wrote, and Yoongi wondered how that could be. [I’m really glad I met you.]
Yoongi hummed. [This is long.]
[Are you in a hurry?] He swore he could hear Seokjin’s giggle. [Classical music doesn’t get boring. Everything is different and repeats are meaningful. Just take a deep breath and listen. When was the last time you just let everything stop around you and listened to the piano? I’ll stop messaging you now so you can listen.]
Yoongi stared at the phone for a second and then shut it off, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes. He wondered if he should get up to close the window so he could shut out the noise of Seoul past it, but for some reason the occasional rush of the night cars along with the rare beeping seemed to go along with the piano, so he just let the music wash over him.
--
“Yoongi, why the hell do you have every single one of Kim Seokjin’s albums?”
His sister had a judgmental eyebrow raised in his direction and was holding Seokjin’s albums. Yoongi had opened and listened to all of them. He shrugged and turned back to the fried rice that was very quickly becoming an inedible burnt chunk of coal. Neither he nor his sister could cook. They were probably gonna have to order delivery again, like they always did unless her husband was around. “I became a fan after you took me to his concert.”
“I thought you said classical music was for boring old farts,” she rolled her eyes. “What’s your favorite?”
Yoongi turned the fire on the fried rice off and started digging for the menu to Chinese takeout that delivered. “Chopin’s Impromptu Fantasie. On his first album.”
She scrunched his nose. “Really? Ugh, he plays that so often. Let’s do Beethoven’s Bagatelle Number 25. I like songs I can recognize.”
“You’re listening to who may as well be the best pianist of our time and you want to listen to the Bagatelle? That anyone else can play?” Yoongi frowned, looking up from the delivery menu.
“Hey, these thing are popular because they’re beautiful, all right? Don’t look down on classical music that everyone knows.”
--
“Well, she’s got a point,” Seokjin giggled, and at this point Yoongi was pretty sure Seokjin’s life was 90% pianos and 10% giggling. It was only the second time they’d met and Yoongi wasn’t even sure the first time counted, but they talked so much through messages that everything was so familiar. Seokjin was dressed in a light blue sweater with dark jeans and he looked gorgeous. Yoongi was trying not to think about it too much. He’d bought lunch so Seokjin was buying dessert (the dessert place Seokjin took them to looked like it was going to end up costing more than lunch), and Seokjin had ordered himself a blueberry yogurt smoothie and Yoongi some kind of dark tea that he was really liking. “People have a tendency to look down on popular things, but things are popular for a reason. How do you like the tea? You said you don’t really like sweets, so I thought of this place.”
“It’s great.” Yoongi sipped the tea and took a bite of the green tea cake that Seokjin had ordered. It, too, was not overly sweet, unlike the cakes from the cafes that his sister kept dragging him to. “I honestly like it.”
Seokjin beamed at him, sipping his smoothie. He had a strawberry shortcake on his plate that he was already halfway through, and a plate of complimentary tea biscuits lay on the middle of the table. Seokjin wasn’t really chatty and neither was Yoongi but the quiet conversation that flowed between them was nice and even the silence wasn’t awkward. “Oh, I listened to all the music you sent me. And I also looked up your name! You’ve composed a lot of songs for a lot of idols. And they were all amazing.”
“Oh.” Yoongi shrugged. “Uh, they’re not Mozart or anything.”
“No, I think they’re amazing.” Seokjin giggled, and he really did remind Yoongi of the giggling bunny emoticons that Seokjin kept using. “I’m always amazed by people who create things. I could never have that talent. I just play music that people already made, using techniques that were taught to me. People like you have my infinite respect.” Seokjin smiled at him, warm as the setting sun behind him.
Yoongi just shrugged and watched Seokjin. When they weren’t talking, Seokjin had a habit of drumming his fingers on the table, humming quiet melodies. Yoongi recognized some of them, but most of them were unfamiliar. Seokjin once again started to hum lightly, fingers dancing across the wooden table. This one Yoongi did recognize, although he couldn’t place the name or composer.
Seokjin’s eyes crinkled into half moons when he smiled. He smiled with his entire face, so sincere and warm that Yoongi felt his stomach flutter. “Mozart’s Piano Sonata number eleven in A major.” Seokjin hummed a little louder, bringing his left hand up to the table as if he was sitting in front of a piano. “Actually…” He stood up and looked around, and his eyes landed on the piano in the corner. “I wonder if that’s functional. Hang on.”
Yoongi leaned back, raising an eyebrow as he watched Seokjin talk to the surprised owner of the café. When Seokjin sat down at the piano, Yoongi turned, as did the other customers. Seokjin looked pleased after pressing a few keys – Yoongi’s well-trained ears confirmed the piano was in tune as well - and Seokjin let his fingers dance.
The familiar melody filled the café, bright and lively across the cool air of the spring dusk. Seokjin glanced over at Yoongi, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his fingers flew across the keys, each and every note on point. Yoongi found himself sinking back into his seat to just enjoy the music. The recording of the song in Seokjin’s CD was nothing compared to hearing it live, even if it was on a cheap piano in a corner café.
Seokjin blushed and giggled at the enthusiastic applause of the café customers and rushed back to Yoongi, taking a sip of his blueberry yogurt smoothie. “Applause always makes me flustered.”
“You aren’t used to it? This is a pretty small audience for you, isn’t it? There are like 5 people in here. Including me.”
“I don’t think I ever will, to be honest.” Seokjin smiled, leaning back and sighing. “It’s like a dream. I love the piano and I can’t believe people want to listen to me play. It doesn’t matter how little. Even if it’s just one person, I’ll keep playing.” He hummed and giggled again. “Well, maybe even if no one wants to listen, I’ll keep playing. I love the piano.” His fingers drummed across the table again, gliding fluidly across the wood.
Yoongi ended up inviting Seokjin over to his studio, which Seokjin was amazed to see for some reason. He tried playing on the keyboard but Yoongi stopped him midway because something just sounded off. He’d never thought of the keyboard as an inferior instrument to the regular piano, but he could hear the difference now, with Seokjin playing. Seokjin just looked amused.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Yoongi looked up from the sheet music he was showing Seokjin. He was trying to get his keyboardist to get it right but had been mainly failing. “I think I got why you like your first Chopin better. It’s just.. you. Without any of the fancy tricks and play methods you learned during your career. I like it. I don’t know how to describe it but – it’s just you, that's the only way I can explain it. Transparent and clear. Not muddled by any fanciness. Not that the second Chopin’s not good, obviously, because it’s amazing-“
Seokjin giggled, hands coming up to hide his mouth. “I know.” He looked up at beamed up at Yoongi. “I’m glad I met you, Yoongi. You really do understand me. And by the way, I think I can do what you want your keyboardist to do. I know you don’t like me playing the keyboard, but wanna let me give it a try?”
“Are you really expecting me to say no to that?” Yoongi sat down and watched Seokjin look over the sheets, answering Seokjin’s questions about what he wanted for certain parts and watching him make notes on the paper. Seokjin’s handwriting was rounded with emphasized consonants. “You write your notes in Korean?”
“Hmm?” Seokjin looked up at him. “What else would I write it in?”
“I dunno. German? Italian?”
Seokjin giggled. “I suck at German and Italian. You should see me try to talk at some of my European performances. Good think they’re there to listen to be play the piano, not me try to talk to them. Although I get the general idea they think I’m cute for trying..” He turned his attention back to the music. “This is the first time I’m playing something not classical. I’ve played modern classical pieces, but..” He looked up at Yoongi and smiled. “I’m excited. I hope I do it right.”
Yoongi was pretty sure Seokjin couldn’t do it wrong. Sure enough, with a few tweaks he was playing the song exactly how Yoongi wanted. “All right, so we probably should’ve done this before, but I usually pay the keyboardist-“
“Wait, no.” Seokjin’s eyes flew wide. “I don’t – no, please. I was just doing this for fun. I don’t need any pay. I had a great time. Seriously, it’s my first time trying out something like this.” He smiled. “Will my name be on the album?”
“..Yeah, as the keyboardist.”
“Cool. That’s one thing checked off my bucket list then! Be listed on a Kpop album.” Seokjin giggled and his fingers smoothed over the keys. He noticed Yoongi’s frown and his smile softened. “If it bothers you that much, you can buy me dinner. There’s this new Italian fusion place that opened up in Itaewon that I’ve been wanting to try. What do you think?”
--
The fusion Italian place sucked, and Seokjin laughed for about ten minutes after they came out. “Oh, god, I’m never trusting online reviews ever again. Sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” Yoongi grinned, “You couldn’t have known. At least we know not to come here ever again.”
“Seriously.” Seokjin looked around. “Okay, there’s an ice cream place around here and I’ve tried that, so I know it’s decent. What do you think?” Yoongi only chuckled and followed the pianist to a little corner shop and let him order pistachio for both of them. The night was just on the right side of warm for the ice cream to be nice, and just like the dessert café that Seokjin had taken them to earlier in the day, not overly sweet. “What else is on your bucket list?”
Seokjin’s eyes softened. “I want to learn a string instrument.” He hummed lightly through softly closed lips. “Cello, really. I’m not really interested in the violin. The cello has such a beautiful sound. Did you know it’s got the closest sound to the human vocal range? I want to be in a huge orchestra. And learn to play things like Vivaldi. I tried playing the Vivaldi seasons on the piano, but it just didn’t sound right, you know?” When Yoongi blinked at him, Seokjin laughed and hummed out a familiar melody. “It’s a violin concerto, yeah, but you need the cello to back it up. I want to be a part of that beautiful music. Or Mozart’s Eine Kleine. Such beautiful music. Oh, woodwind instruments are nice, too. Or brass. Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyrie is so amazing.” Seokjin moved his ice cream to his left hand and his fingers flew over the air as if he was playing out melodies. “Sometimes when I’m home I just play the parts on the piano and imagine I’m in an orchestra.”
Yoongi leaned back against the park bench, looking up at the sky. He glanced at Seokjin and he didn’t even mind the ice cream slowly melting against his hand. Seokjin turned toward him. “Yoongi, what are you thinking about?”
“..I’m glad I went to your concert, that’s all.”
Seokjin beamed at him, a pretty blush dusted over his cheeks, and Yoongi grinned. “I have another recital coming up. Do you and your sister want to come?”
--
His sister couldn’t believe he’d managed to get tickets. “Oh my god.” She squealed, clutching the tickets. “How did you even manage this?” So Yoongi told her the truth and showed her the pink bunny emoticon filled chatroom. She raised an eyebrow at him and made her trademark I-know-something-you-don’t face that he’d gotten to know so well over the years. “You know, mom used to say that she wasn’t worried about you going around dating random people and breaking up with them after a week, because she thought once you met your match you’d just settle down. I used to tell her I thought you’d be fucking around with random people even when you were 70, but..” She raised an eyebrow and snickered.
“I just met him.”
“Yeah, well, mom and dad only knew each other for like a week before he asked her out and they married after a month and they’ve been living happily ever after.” She shrugged and grinned at him. “Come on. You like him. I’ve never seen that face on you before when you talk about someone else. It’s kind of sweet in a really weird way because I’ve never seen you be sweet to anyone.” She snickered again and looked down at the tickets. “Sometimes you just meet people that you click with immediately and you just don’t need any more time.”
Yoongi wasn’t exactly sure how to respond when his sister was actually giving useful advice, so he just kept quiet and shrugged, his mind set on the way Seokjin looked so happy when his fingers were gliding across a piano, no matter what kind.