Work Text:
Done.
It was finally done, and Yoongi let the finality of it make him slump in the studio chair. His eyes closed and a smile adorned his face, pride taking over him because he had done it . Finished it, after all those days and nights powered by only two hours of sleep and many, many cans of Red Bull.
With the knowledge that no one was around at this time in the morning, he let his chest rumble with satisfaction and his tail come up to hug around his satiated form.
He’d worked on other songs, of course he had, and he’d written plenty of others before Bangtan was even a concept in someone’s mind. But this, this was official. It was something he’d created completely from scratch and it had come out as something that Yoongi could only describe as whole.
Or maybe he was just being too prideful, the Lynx part of him was the one that felt so sinfully satisfied with what he’d created. The thought made Yoongi chuckle under his breath, because if it was his Lynx that loved his track so much, it had a pretty damn good taste in music.
Seokjin was the first to hear about Yoongi’s success, thanks to the elder’s early rises to cook up something for the group to eat.
Yoongi had almost lost an eye when he’d snuck up behind him and whispered the news in his ear. Seokjin really hadn’t, over all the years, learned to be mindful of the pointed antlers atop his head.
His complaint died in his throat when Seokjin’s stunned face morphed into a too-wide grin and the taller squeezed Yoongi in his arms and lifted him until his feet were barely touching the ground, face squished to his chest.
“Finally, you can rest. And eat! I’m cooking pancakes, and I’ll add extra chocolate chips to yours. To Tae and Jeonggukie’s too, since they’d complain. Hoseok would too, so I’ll add some to his…”
Seokjin ended up pouring the whole packet into the pancake mix in celebration. Yoongi helped him dish out the pancakes evenly so no fights would break out between the hungry and tired bunch, much like he helped out flipping and making sure the sides of the breakfast were evenly cooked when Seokjin couldn’t keep his hands from abandoning the food in favour of gripping Yoongi instead.
Namjoon pulled Yoongi to the side after they all ate, and Yoongi expected to hear something along the lines of that Namjoon would have to hear it before Yoongi could get too excited about his song being released. But instead, Yoongi was pulled into another, albeit more awkward, hug and sent away with nothing but a sweet taste in his mouth and a warmth in his chest.
Dance practice was always a draining point of their schedule, but what always made it even harder was when the choreographers didn’t factor in Jeongguk’s wings. A pretty big piece of the puzzle to misplace, if you ask Yoongi.
“You,” The choreographer barked, “I told you to keep those things firmly against your back so it doesn’t keep getting in the way of Jimin when he starts his solo. I don’t want to have to rearrange the entire dance just so I can put you in the back and out of the way.”
Jeongguk’s eyes didn’t leave the ground when he apologized, nor did his words make it out of his mouth without wavering and breaking off.
It seemed that, despite Taehyung whispering in the youngest’s ear and squeezing his waist before heading back to positions, Yoongi was the only one to see the unfairness of it all. He could hardly bite back the retaliation on his tongue at the person who was making Jeongguk suffer for their own mistake.
But when the same man commented on how Seokjin should be careful unless he wants to impale the other members with “those things” on his head, he knew he wasn’t alone.
So the three powered through the routine and tried their best to ignore the looks the other members shared with each other when they were stopped yet again for a comment to be made on how Yoongi’s tail was too noticeable.
“I hate them.”
“Don’t say that, Kookie-ah,” Seokjin crooned and edged closer to the pacing boy in the middle of the dormroom.
“No! I hate them, I don’t want them anymore,” Jeongguk released his vice like grip on his hair to grip his wings with the same verocity, tugging and ripping out some feathers in the meantime.
Yoongi made a move and grabbed one of Jeongguk’s arms while Seokjin grabbed the other, keeping the younger from damaging his wings even further than he already had. Yoongi remained a passive participant in every other aspect and just listened as Seokjin murmured words of comfort to a boy who refused to calm.
“They’re apart of you, and that’s what makes them so beautiful,” Seokjin kissed the boy on his tear stained cheek, before he pulled away and signalled Yoongi to do the same.
Jeongguk had stopped trying to damage himself and now seemed like he was making a considerable effort to not acknowledge the large black wings that adorned his back.
“Can you two leave? I just want to be alone for a bit,”
And even though Jeongguk had tried to wish them away, Yoongi saw them cocoon around him just before he shut off the lights.
Taehyung was standing just outside the door and was ready to go right in when Yoongi stopped him.
“Let him be. There’s nothing you could say to him right now.”
Because no matter how much Taehyung loved Jeongguk, he would never understand what it was like to have all his efforts dismissed just because of some extra body parts.
“What? This is a mistake,” Yoongi clicked refresh on the browser almost furiously to try and correct what the screen was telling him.
Produced by Rap Monster ft. Suga of BTS.
No, that’s not how his song was meant to hit the public. It wasn’t meant to be Namjoon who would get the praise for hours of work that Yoongi put in, for the song that Yoongi deprived himself of every single living necessity for. It was wrong, it was fucked up.
He stood up from the chair so fast that it flew backwards and crashed against the wall, startling Namjoon and their manager in the process.
Yoongi wanted to do more than just shock them and make them uncomfortable.
“You stole my song,” He snarled, ripping the keyboard from the computer and hurdling it at the space of wall near where Namjoon stood.
“We stole nothing. It was going to be released under Bangtan and we released it under Bangtan, we just tweaked the credits to make it more profitable,” The manager held out his palms in an attempt to make Yoongi calm down and see reason where there was none.
“Profitable? You didn’t change shit, you just changed names. You said the song was great when you heard it.”
“Yes, I changed names, exactly. The public is more likely to listen and buy something that Namjoon here produced, you see. It’s nothing personal. The song’s great, you should be proud.”
Another growl ripped from his throat and God, he wishes that all those nights he spent crying over his lost claws actually granted him them again.
“Namjoon, control him. Make sure he doesn’t destroy the studio,” And the man just left. Right through the door and past the scattered keys and other broken remains of the keyboard.
Even though Yoongi would swear he saw nothing but pulsing red, he could still see how pale Namjoon had gone throughout the entire exchange.
“Yoongi, I know it’s unfair. But it’s the best for Bangtan. You want the best for Bangtan, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have written such an amazing song,” Probably despite his survival instincts, he reached out to put a hand of comfort on Yoongi’s shoulder.
As if Yoongi were a child throwing a tantrum over not getting the toy he wanted.
So he slapped away Namjoon’s small act of condescension and made his own way towards the door before turning around to give his leader the piece of his mind he thought he deserved.
“I’m starting to wonder if Bangtan is really worth my claws and my fucking dignity.”
The others could comfort but they’d never understand,
The only one he’d expect to, hybrid or not, was Namjoon. The guy who cared about his music and rap more than words could describe. But he’s the one that Yoongi’s belittlement benefited. So really, he had no shoulder to lean on. And the weight was crushing him.
Yoongi was left with no one that could understand, not really, not ever.
“I know my position in this group is different than yours and Jeongguk’s,” Seokjin told him one night as they sat alone on the top of their building, staring at how the skyline and sky seemed to mold together.
Yoongi turned to him, “What do you mean?”
“I mean I wasn’t exactly casted for my talent, or my passion. But you two breath it. Jeongguk passion burns in every fibre of his body, just like yours.”
“You’re an amazing singer, don’t talk about yourself like this.”
“I don’t doubt that I can sing. But I know why I’m here,” Seokjin let out a light sigh, eyes never leaving the horizon, “They said deers make good caregivers, and that’d fit well with being the oldest.”
“You’re more than that,” Yoongi grabbed Seokjin’s handed and tried to make Seokjin feel his sincerity through his grasp.
“I know. I’m also the visual,” Seokjin let himself giggle momentarily, before he brought his free hand up to his antlers, “You know, I read a lot of comments that say I’d be more worthy of that title of I didn’t have these, but I quite like them. What do you think?”
Yoongi smiled, a soft smile would have been out of place if he had been around anybody but Seokjin, and he too reached up to join Seokjin’s hand in tracing the curves of his antlers.
“I think they’re perfect.”