Work Text:
***
“What the hell is this?” Yoongi says, barging his way into his boss’s office with a disgruntled frown sagging his features into a pout. In his hand, he’s holding what looks like a printed email spanning several pages.
“It looks like paper.”
“Don’t start with me, Namjoon,” Yoongi warns, like he has any right to, barring the fact that not only is Namjoon his boss, but he’s currently on a war path because of an assignment given to him by said boss.
“Okay, well, since I can’t actually see what it is you’re flailing around, I assume it’s the spec I just emailed you about? So. It’s work, Yoongi. I sent you work. You know, for the job I hired you to do.”
“You hired me to produce music.”
“Yes, and this is a request for a song.”
“This is not a song. This is a joke. I write actual songs, songs that mean something. Songs that make people feel things. I write music and this…”
“I don’t really think you’re in a position to pick and choose your projects.”
Yoongi’s gaze, sharp and still full of every bit of the annoyance he stormed into Namjoon’s office with flickers. The hurt at the statement washes over him for the briefest of seconds.
Not that he has much right to be all that hurt, Yoongi thinks bitterly to himself. It’s not like what Namjoon said wasn’t true. He wasn’t in a position to pick and choose his jobs; hell, he should be thankful Namjoon had even convinced his company to put him on the roster of junior producers at all. He’s pretty sure Namjoon’s vouched for him in more than just a ‘he’s a great producer’ kind of way, and more of a ‘I’ll write you several hit songs and charge you very little if you do me this one favour’ kind of way.
Yoongi hates it. But he also begrudgingly loves Namjoon for it. He’s his best - his only - friend for a reason, and putting up with Yoongi’s temper tantrum and not firing him for insubordination is proof enough of it.
“Hyung, look, I know it’s not what you want, but … it’s all I’ve got. At least it’s work, right? And the pay is … I mean, hell, the pay is really good. This guy is apparently really popular right now.”
The papers in Yoongi’s hand are proffered to Namjoon in defeat, a huff - an exhale of whatever fight he’d had left in him, leaving his body as he sinks into the chair opposite Namjoon.
“I know it’s not a conventional request, but it could open doors,” Namjoon says as his eyes scan the email he’s already well aware of, his own name appearing several times throughout.
“It’s a song…. about a fish,” Yoongi whines, looking forlorn in his chair. “The only door it’s going to open is the back door of this company when I’m cast out as the laughing stock of this place.”
Namjoon frowns. “Well, I’m not going to let them fire you over this.”
That statement does not make Yoongi feel any better about this.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
It’s only 7 am, and Yoongi’s already had 2 and a half cups of coffee and rearranged his studio seating three times. Studio is maybe a bit too kind a word for his workspace. It’s more like a basement closet turned studio, with just enough room for his desk and monitors, and he’s somehow squeezed in a low coffee table and a tiny couch.
It’s better than working at home, he supposes, but he’s not exactly sure if this is the right place to be meeting his new client.
Kim Seokjin. Former idol turned actor and variety show host.
Yeah, Yoongi had begrudgingly admitted defeat and done his homework on the man who had requested a ‘song about a fish’.
The Nation’s Sweetheart had been declared on more than one public forum dedicated to the man. His fans had dubbed him “World Wide Handsome’ a nickname that made Yoongi roll his eyes but that Seokjin himself seemed to have embraced fully.
Yoongi watched clips of Kim Seokjin, which he was, of course, doing purely for research purposes, obviously. It started by watching some of his old performances, wanting to get an idea of his vocal range and style, and somehow it ended with clips of Seokjin blowing kisses to the camera and winking.
Arrogant.
Unserious.
With probably more money than anyone should be allowed to have. Sponsorships and personal brands. Yoongi had to wonder if this man had ever heard the word ‘no’ in his life.
This was going to be a disaster.
Maybe he should have asked to use Namjoon's much more impressive-looking studio?!
Yoongi stews in his own anxiousness until just before noon, when he gets a call from the front desk that his ‘appointment’ is here. Yoongi politely acknowledges the receptionist before hanging up and screaming out the rest of his anxiety.
Okay. He can do this. He has to do this; he has no option, and this is either going to tank his career as a serious music producer or Seokjin's fan base is going to lynch him alive.
No pressure.
-
Seokjin is unfairly just as handsome in real life as he is in his YouTube clips, and Yoongi doesn’t know if he’s annoyed or intimidated by it. When he gets to the private lobby, Seokjin is there with what appears to be a standard-issue security guard. He’s tall and physically imposing, wearing the suit and just barely covering his tattoos. He also looks young, but Yoongi supposes that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. There is also another person there with Seokjin, a manager, probably judging entirely by the cross-body bag he’s holding onto.
“Seokjin-ssi,” Yoongi says as he walks towards them. “Welcome…” Yoongi forces out, realizing that in all of his anxious stressing he forgot to play through how he should greet the other. He’d only ever worked with people through online collaborations, emails and such.
“Min PD, wow! What an honour!” Seokjin’s voice cuts in.
Yoongi freezes, eyes wide as he watches Seokjin and his team… Bow.
Oh god. Oh no. Yoongi quickly shuffles forward between his own bows, trying to get them to stop. “No, please, please, really, there is no need for that…”
And there really is no need. In the comparative realm of celebrity, Yoongi is a mere speck of dust compared to the orbit Kim Seokjin holds. Hell, the watch he has on could probably pay Yoongi’s rent for the rest of the year.
“I’m so pleased you agreed to work on this project!” Seokjin says, easy casual and not at all flustered like Yoongi currently was. “I’m excited to work on this, and rest assured PD Min I will work very hard. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the booth, but I’ve already been taking some singing lessons to get it all back, and I’m very open to all your expert suggestions…”
Yoongi could only stare at the man. He was… He was so … nice.
“Um, right, well,” Yoongi cleared his throat, trying to sound like the professional he was. “If you like, we can go to my studio, talk a little more about the project, and I can show you some samples I have for the tone?”
Seokjin lit up even more (if that was even possible), his smile wide and bright. “That sounds perfect!”
Yoongi makes a gesture for the other to follow him, and all three men, Seokjin, his bodyguard and manager, all move as one unit until Seokjin abruptly stops. “Just us,” he says to the others.
Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief, because he’d not been entirely sure where everyone was going to sit.
“But…” The bodyguard with the intimidating physique but young face starts.
“It’s going to be fine. You know where I am, and I doubt Yoongi-ssi is going to try and kidnap me.” Seokjin says with a laugh. “Right?” He turns his attention back to Yoongi.
They all turned their attention to Yoongi.
“Uh… I don’t even own a car, so…”
Seokjin laughs, loud and squeaky, like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day.
-
As Yoongi punches in the keycode for his closet/studio, he braces for the inevitable comment of disappointment when Seokjin realizes he’s not been paired up with one of the more “successful” or “popular” producers. He waits for the rezation he’d been assigned to the producer, who is basically the office troll if his studio has any say about it.
But Seokjin just waltzes in and takes up a seat on the small double couch Yoongi had squeezed in there months ago and looks around, not like he’s judging but like… he’s… admiring?
“Is that a real Michael Jordan jersey? Wow, and it's signed?! How impressive!”
“Oh my god, you have the latest Neumann?!”
“This is a great setup!”
Yoongi wants to point out that the microphone was actually a gift from Namjoon, but he doesn’t. Instead, he busies himself with getting Seokjin and himself some water from the minifridge.
Eventually, the two of them are settled. Yoongi is in his office chair with a notebook in hand, sitting between the desk and coffee table, while Seokjin is still on the couch, explaining to Yoongi the great concept he’d had.
“So, I was thinking of doing a song about Tuna… and fishing. I mean, fishing tuna, I suppose.”
Yoongi stares at him, blinking slowly. “I thought, uh, I thought the brief said you wanted to do a song about a fish? Like maybe a fish that can’t swim? Or maybe a fist that gets lost in the big sea. The POV could be something about finding your way?” Yoongi suggests looking at the very few notes he’d scribbled down.
Seokjin shakes his head. “No, no, I don’t want anything deep or metaphorical. Just a literal song, about finishing.”
Yoongi dies a little on the inside. He hopes his face is staying neutral despite it.
Seokjin hums a basic melody, not a great one, just a basic one, then adds in a sing-song voice:
“...where did my fish go….flap flap!”
Yoongi’s pretty sure he is dead already. This is hell. It has to be.
“And then, I thought a change in the chorus, something like…”
Yoongi watches Seokjin, his hearing turning in and out like it’s trying to make sense of whatever this is that is happening in front of him. Is this real? It can’t be real. This is a joke, someone at the company is playing a joke on him, and Seokjin is in on it and… Yoongi watches the other man as he continues to explain.
There isn’t an ounce of mockery in him (at least not at this moment). He’s being incredibly earnest and sincere.
“Alright,” Yoongi says with an exhale, hoping to whatever god is listening that he’s not about to sign away his entire career. “Let’s try to make something…” he turns around, powering up his computer and the piano software.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The only way Yoongi can describe working with Seokjin is ‘chaotic’.
His email is full of ideas from Seokjin, ranging from ‘what are your thoughts on a fish backup choir’ to ‘can we get some bubble sound effects?’
Yoongi does his best to rein in Seokjin’s wild proposals as they continue to build the melody out. “Seokjin-ssi, I really don’t think adding a full dramatic bridge is what you’re going for here.” Yoongi tempers when the other comes in one afternoon for another working session. This time Seokjin is less formal, he had not had any other schedule planned, so he’s in a grey alo tracksuit that looks stupidly perfect on his stupidly long and tall body.
Yoongi’s just barely managed to brush his dark hair back enough to tuck it under a backwards baseball cap and throw on his best grandpa impersonation outfit, with a pair of black pants, a white tee, and a black cardigan.
Seokjin hums from where he’s sitting, crossed-legged on the couch, and he nods as if in deep consideration. “Ah, you’re right, you’re right. It would throw off the original vibe. I came in with the idea of simple and light and got carried away with the endless possibilities.”
“Not exactly endless,” Yoongi snorts. “There is only so much I know how to do.”
Seokjin shakes his head. “Nonsense. You’re very talented, Yoongi-ah. I trust you entirely.”
Yoongi turns back to his monitor, hoping his face isn’t as bright red as it feels.
-
After a while, even Yoongi has to call it quits. They’ve been going around in circles on a melody that doesn’t feel right and lyrics that Yoongi thinks are going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
“You want to order something?” Seokjin offers, holding up his phone. “Hyung’s treat!”
Again, Yoongi has to fight the urge to blush over informalities - he’s a professional, dammit!
“Chicken?” he asks, his stomach growling to make an added point.
“Definitely chicken,” Seokjin confirms with a nod as he opens his delivery app and starts to scroll.
When the food arrives, Seokjin regales Yoongi with tales of his variety show gigs and some of the more ‘interesting’ guests he’s had on the show. He talks about how he’s wanted to do the show mostly as an excuse for him to try things out, but it had turned into more and more wild stunts, and he’d started to second-guess his choices.
“Then I realized, I could just make the guests do the same things, and it became a lot more fun.” Seokjin chuckles. “But I never make them do anything I wouldn’t do, and I always join them… you know, maybe I’m sentimental from my idol days, but I don’t like the shows that just try to make fun of them… that’s not the point.”
Yoongi listened, nodding along as he finished up his own meal. Thought on how much Seokjin was exactly like the man he’d seen in those YouTube videos and … not at the same time striking Yoongi. “Hyung…” Yoongi finally gives in to the question he’d been wanting to ask since they started this whole thing.
Seokjin gives him his full attention, and for a moment, Yoongi is intimidated by it.
“...ahem.. Ok, so… just…. Why a fish?!”
Seokjin smiles, soft, sincere. “Because it’s silly.”
Yoongi only looks back at him with a skeptical crease to his brow.
“It’s silly and unserious and fun. I wanted… I want… to make my fans laugh, especially when they are sad.”
And, oh. That had been unexpected.
“I know I come off as silly and goofy and unserious, and honestly, that’s the whole point. I want my fans, anyone really, to see me and laugh and have a good time. If I can brighten just one person's day… then it makes me feel good. I suppose it’s a bit selfish of me.” Seokjin says as an afterthought.
Yoongi just shakes his head, still fully taken aback.
“...also, it’s just kind of fun to yell TU-NA!”
Seokjin burst out laughing at the loud, squeaky laugh Yoongi’s starting to realize is a genuine laugh and not something performative. It makes Yoongi smirk as he gathers up their meal boxes to toss them in the trash.
Seokjin is still humming something and mock-shouting “SU-PER- TU-NA!” at the peak as Yoongi cleans up.
It’s … stupid and fun…and… catchy.
“Hang on, do that again!” Yoongi says, quickly tossing the trash and hurrying back to his computer.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
They mess around with the basic idea Seokjin had hummed, Yoongi trying to build something out of it - anything, really, as he presses keys in various rhythms. He doesn’t even remember hitting a specific chord; his fingers slip (or maybe it’s just lazy posture), causing him to hit something brighter than he meant to. It was far too light. Much too cheerful.
Yoongi grimaces out of habit. “That’s unusable,” he mutters to himself.
Seokjin, however, perks up almost immediately from the couch. “Play that again?” He asks, slowly standing.
Yoongi frowns. “It’s…. Childish.”
“So?” Seokjin challenges simply. “Play it again… please?”
-
Their next several meetings feel just as chaotic, mostly because they happen at strange hours, trying to work around some campaign Seokjin has to shoot, but also because it's nothing like how Yoongi usually worked.
Late-night sessions came with food orders at 3 am from places Yoongi had never heard of and sometimes questionable combinations Seokjin swore by. He was usually right, even if Yoongi made a face while watching Seokjin create his “gourmet” meal.
Early morning sessions had coffee. Iced. Strong. Just like Yoongi liked it, even if he didn’t know how Seokjin figured out his preferred coffee order.
The longer they worked, the more comfortable Seokjin seemed in Yoongi’s studio space and, to Yoongi’s own surprise, the more comfortable he seemed to be with having the man there.
Did he miss having Seokjin there on days when the other couldn’t make it in person?
No!
Maybe…
Whatever!
They had arguments about fish lore, and Yoongi had groaned over one too many bad fish puns to count.
But when Seokjin started to show off his potential dance moves for the song, that’s when Yoongi lost it.
“Hyung….stop…. My side hurts…” Yoongi was nearly doubled over with laughter as he watched a fully grown man turn his hands into a fin and wiggle around.
“Oh, you laugh, Yoongi-ah, but this is going to make it into the music video!”
Yoongi shakes his head as he watches Seokjin gyrate with way too much sincerity while yelling “TUNA”. He can’t really hide the smile on his face, or the fact that this is the first time, in a long time, he’s had this much fun making music.
When Seokjin finally collapses back down onto the tiny couch, breathless, he looks back at Yoongi and grins. “See… ridiculous works.”
Yoongi only rolls his eyes and turns back to the monitors - for reputational sake (obviously).
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
It’s another late night, or, well, early morning by now, and both Seokjin and Yoongi are exhausted. Sitting on the studio floor with their backs pressed to the small couch. The song is almost done. Actually, Yoongi thinks it’s pretty much done, and all he needs to do is clean up a few instrumental parts. But when Seokjin had called him earlier and said he was coming by tonight to work on it, Yoongi didn’t argue.
“Can I ask you something?” Seokjin finally says in the quiet of the studio.
Yoongi only nods in response.
“How come you haven’t put out anything, for yourself… in a while… It’s been… well, quite a while since you put out a song.”
The question caught Yoongi by surprise. Not just because he hadn’t expected to be asked about why he wasn’t putting out music, but that Seokjin seemed to know at all that Yoongi hadn’t produced anything for himself in, well over a year.
“Oh…umm,” He says, eloquently. Why hadn’t he? He knew why, he just had never said it out loud. Just to himself in his head, over and over. When Namjoon had asked him if he was working on anything, he’d always given non-commital grunts and nods, and that had seemed to satisfy his friend. At least, Namjoon had never bothered with any follow-up questions.
Maybe it was because it was some ungodly hour of the morning.
Maybe it was because Seokjin was looking at him so damn earnestly.
(Maybe it was because Yoongi was losing his mind just a little)
“I just…” Yoongi starts but lets the words fall off. “I think I just don’t have anything I want to write about.” He tries again, but even that answer doesn’t feel right. “It started to feel like it didn’t matter… like what I wrote didn’t matter anymore.”
Seokjin just listened. He didn’t press Yoongi to say any more than he was willing to. And Yoongi appreciated it.
“I think, it’s part worry that I have nothing worth saying anymore… and part… I’m losing my creativity a bit.” Yoongi cringes to himself. He doesn’t think that’s the kind of thing he’s supposed to be admitting to a client.
But then again, Seokjin doesn’t really feel like just a client anymore.
Seokjin nods, straightening up from his slouched couch position and turning to look at Yoongi more fully.
“Your music mattered to me today. It made me happy. It’s actually why I really wanted to work with you.”
Yoongi’s brow furrows in confusion.
“Ok, admittedly I wasn’t all that familiar with your work…” Seokjin confesses (Yoongi snorts). My brother Jungkook, you met him, big guy, tattoos…”
“Bodyguard?” Yoongi finishes.
Seokjin nods. “Yeah, that’s the one. He’s a big fan. And when I was talking about making this song, he had me listen to some of your tracks. True, we don’t exactly have the same style, but you create music because you want it to mean something to the people listening. You want it to make them feel something. And ok, I know we’re not making the next song of the year here, but that’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to make something for my fans that was fun and silly, but… really means something to them. I knew you would understand that, at the very least.”
Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s because of Seokjin's full attention on him. Or if it’s being perceived by someone like Seokjin (yeah, probably that), but it all hits him so unexpectedly… deeply. He can feel his cheeks burning slightly as he looks down and nods slightly. He’s always been terrible at taking compliments.
Seokjin only lets out some kind of amused laugh as he shuffles over to his laptop once more, perched on the small coffee table they had moved over so they could sprawl on the studio floor. He hits play on the song, and the silly upbeat melody and Seokjin’s voice fill the space.
When it finishes, Seokjin looks back at Yoongi with a grin. “So?”
Yoongi huffs and bobs his head. “That didn’t completely suck.”
“High praise, Yoongi-ah, high praise!”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The song was done.
Yoongi had sent a copy to Seokjin and one to Namjoon for the final company approval before he had crawled into bed. It would be kind of weird not working on the song tomorrow. Or seeing Seokjin in his studio, all sprawled out like he belonged there.
Yoongi shook his head. Stop thinking about Seokjin and his damn song, Yoongi scolded himself as he closed his eyes.
If he hummed “Su-per-tu-na” as he drifted off to sleep, that was his business, and his alone.
-
He had to admit he felt a little recharged after a few days off from the studio and the successful completion of his project with Kim Seokjin. Yoongi had even scribbled a few notes down in his notepad that he had, maybe wanted to play around with when he got back to work.
Yoongi swiped his card into the building without his usual weight of Monday despair. Namjoon had sent him a casual “congrats on finishing the song” message, but they hadn’t spoken about it since. He was sure that would be on his calendar for today once he logged in.
He’s not supposed to hear it.
He’s not even part of the conversation. He’s just passing through the hallway with his hands full of empty coffee cups he’d been emptying from his studio, half- thinking about a song idea he’d been toying with.
It's funny, Yoongi thinks, how the company is so much louder during the day. Doors open, people moving around, voices travelling. It’s easy to get lost in and even easier to be invisible.
“...catchy, I guess, but it’s…”
Yoongi doesn’t mean to slow down. But he does, something in his gut telling him to.
It’s one of the general mixing rooms, and inside are two staff members lounging like they have nowhere else to be. One of them is holding out his phone, and something familiar is leaking from the speaker.
Yoongi’s stomach drops.
“This part,” one of them says, laughing under their breath. “I mean, yeah, it’s catchy…”
“Yeah, it’s an earworm for sure,” the other replies, “but what were they calling it upstairs… the dumb fish song.”
Yoongi’s chest tightens.
The worst part, he thinks, is that they aren’t ever being that cruel about it. It’s all casual and thoughtless.
Like it doesn’t matter.
Yoongi ducks his head and moves quickly past the room on his way to the kitchen to toss his trash. Pretending like it didn’t matter, like he hadn’t heard anything at all.
Because it doesn't bother him. Right?
It shouldn't.
He knew what this was. From the beginning, he knew. A joke. A silly song. Bright and disposable. He’d even argued that with Namjoon. Hell, he’d even said as much to Seokjin, albeit in nicer words.
And yet…
Why did it feel like something was caving in under his ribs?
-
By the time Yoongi gets back to his studio, the silence inside feels suffocating. He quickly turns on his monitors, plugging in his laptop, and the last track he’d worked on pops up.
SUPER TUNA.
It’s paused, pre-chorus. It feels like a taunt.
Yoongi stares back at it before reaching over to the keyboard and hitting play.
Music fills the room immediately. Bright, bouncy and unapologetically playful. As the chorus hits, Yoongi remembers it the way he had when he sent it off. Fun, alive, feel-good.
‘...dumb fish song.’
Yoongi’s hand slams down on the keyboard, pausing the music and filling his studio with silence once more.
He groans, leaning back in his chair and dragging a hand over his face. What was he thinking? He had spent years trying to be taken seriously. Trying to make music that means something! And now…
He produced something that made people laugh at it.
Music they couldn’t even criticize properly.
A joke.
Yoongi pushed back from his desk, the chair rolling slowly as he grimaced at the screen and the song, as if it was a personal offence.
At the same time, there is a knock on his studio door and Seokjin’s voice as he lets himself in.
“Yoongi-ah! Congratulations on finishing the song!!” Seokjin says, bright and happy, in his hands is a ridiculously large-looking bouquet.
Yoongi stiffens.
“I played the song for Jungkookie. I hope you don’t mind, but he absolutely wouldn’t stop harassing me. He loved it, of course. Though he said he was disappointed, I didn’t have the famous SUGA feature on it.” Seokjin laughed. “So I’m here to petition a remix…”
Seokjin slows to a stop when he sees Yoongi, his bright smile faltering just slightly.
“Hey…” he says, more carefully. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi clears his throat, quickly rolling back to his desk and grabbing the mouse, clicking aimlessly to look busy. “Yeah,” he says, flatly. “I’m fine.”
Seokjin looks at him suspiciously as he moves further into the studio, putting the flowers down and straightening up once more. “You don’t sound fin…”
“It’s nothing,” Yoongi cuts him off.
“Yoongi-ah…”
“I overheard some people talking about the demo.” Yoongi blurts out, a little sharper than he means it to be. It stills Seokjin in his place. “They said it was catchy…” Yoongi continues with a bitter laugh. “They also called it ‘The dumb fish song’. That’s what everyone is calling it… it’s…” Yoongi takes a breath, shaking his head as he looks up the monitors with the song still loaded up.
For a moment, there is nothing. Just silence. Seokjin doesn’t speak, doesn’t even move. And Yoongi… his thoughts only spiral more.
This was a mistake.
He should have said no.
His career might as well be over.
“So?….” Seokjin says so softly that Yoongi has to look over at him to make sure he’d actually heard him.
“So they called it dumb.” Seokjin shrugs, his head tilted slightly as he looks back at Yoongi. “Did you have fun making it?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer; he only looks down.
“....because I did.” Seokjin continues, the same soft voice. “I had a lot of fun. It’s probably the most fun I’ve had working on a project in years. And you know what, I think when people listen to it… They’re gonna have fun. And they’re gonna laugh…”
Somehow, Yoongi hadn’t even noticed Seokjin moving closer to his chair until he was right next to him.
“... not at it… but because of it. And that was the whole point.”
Yoongi exhales, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his body. He can’t bring himself to look at Seokjin fully, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, I just wanted to say congratulations and… thank you for taking on this project. I just have some final paperwork with Namjoon-ssi upstairs and….” Seokjin’s words fall off slightly as he moves towards the door.
Yoongi hears the studio door close.
He sinks lower into his chair, feeling something worse than embarrassment.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
They move quickly with the release. Yoongi follows it, even if he pretends like he’s not. Seokjin’s company goes all out with promotions and merch. They’ve even teased a music video, and Yoongi has watched it maybe…
Too many times.
There is a lot of buzz. But then again, why wouldn’t there be? Kim Seokjin, THE Kim Seokjin former idol, actor, and variety show host, releasing a new song after over a decade.
Sometimes the pressure of it makes Yoongi want to dig further into his hermit hole. Other times, he obsessively prowls the fan cafes and chat boards to see what kind of expectations are out there, but his fans… they just seem excited.
-
It’s two days before the release, and Yoongi has decided to fully commit to his hermit lifestyle, working from home. So when there is a knock on his door, Yoongi has to admit he’s startled.
He frowns, utterly confused by who would be knocking as he pads across his small apartment. He’s dressed in his work-from-home finest attire, a pair of black and grey plaid pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt. When he checks the screen before opening his door, he’s even more confused.
“Ah, Yoongi-ssi.” The man smiles and nods.
Yoongi recognizes him as Jimin, Seokjin’s manager. His long blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and he’s still wearing the same cross-body bag Yoongi faintly remembers him wearing from their first meeting.
Jimin opens the bag, pulling out a bright pink envelope, and handing it to Yoongi.
“Seokjin-ssi is having a party to celebrate the release of the song on Friday. He wanted to make sure you got your invitation.”
Yoongi tentatively takes the very bright pink envelope. “Me?” He asks, sounding far too surprised.
Even Jimin must think so, judging by the face he makes. “Yes, you… You produced it. Why wouldn’t you be invited to celebrate its release?”
Yoongi opens his mouth but shuts it before he can say something stupid.
“Ohhh…” Jimin says with a bit of a smirk. “You think you messed things up with him, huh?”
“What?!” Yoongi sputters, flustered by Jimin’s smirk and his words. “I don’t know what…”
“I wouldn’t be here with a personal invitation if he didn’t want you there…so… don’t be an idiot. Show up.”
Yoongi’s brow furrows. He doesn’t know if he’s more offended, intrigued or maybe just confused.
Jimin is gone before he can make up his mind.
-
The party is some combination of tropical and tuna theme that Yoongi spends a long time trying to figure out as he loiters by the drink station. The party is being held at Seokjin’s company; the space is big and fancy, which makes the silly tuna cans with Seokjin’s face on them and the blue cocktails being handed out all the more amusing.
There’s also a photo station with a cardboard cutout of Seokhin in a Hawaiian shirt and a backdrop that looks like a lifeguard tower on the beach.
Honestly, Yoongi has no clue what to expect with the release tonight.
The crowd grows; other former idols from the same time Seokjin had been active. Younger idols, probably from the same company, actors and actresses, hosts and just friends all seem to be there. But as Yoongi scans the crowd, through the music and the flashing lights, the truth is, he’s only looking for one person.
There is music playing, a mix of older songs, some Yoongi recognizes as Seokjin’s and others, random trot music, and… he pauses like that might help him hear better. It takes a second longer, but… yeah, that’s… that’s Yoongi's song. One of his Soundcloud songs, not even an official release, this was one someone had to go and look for.
God, why does Yoongi feel shy all of a sudden?
He continues to casually scan the crowd (read: obsessively tries to find Seokjin, to no success) as the screen that had been displaying the teaser and various images all night suddenly switches to a countdown.
The countdown is ridiculous. It’s full of brightly coloured animations and page sweeps of waves and jumping fish. Like everyone, Yoongi is pulled to move closer to the screen, and the open dance floor space that is being blocked off very conveniently. The murmur of conversations starts to fall off as everyone’s attention turns to the countdown, and the collective “10….9…8….” starts to pick up.
Yoongi looks around, still no Seokjin, but everyone looks utterly excited, counting down.
Everyone looks like… they are having fun.
……3
....2
..1
The room goes dark, a hum of excitement even in the silence, and suddenly the familiar first crescendo chords hit, followed by the quick upbeat melody blasts over the speakers. The lights flash, the gathered crowd cheers and … there is Seokjin in all his Hawaii shirt glory stepping into the middle of the makeshift stage.
Yoongi’s eyes go wide. Maybe his mouth hangs open a little.
Two backup dancers jump out to join in his silly choreo - they have face masks on, but Yoongi think’s he’s become well versed in spotting the familiar tattoos and who the long blond hair belongs to.
Yoongi dares a look around the crowd, and everyone is jumping, laughing, smiling. Some even shout the lyrics as they flash across the screen behind Seokjin.
Yoongi nearly loses it when the room yells “TU-NA!” like a perfectly choreographed fan chant.
Seokjin breaks away from his ‘dancers’, working the crowd as he sings. Yoongi realizes too late that Seokjin is headed right for him. Yoongi tries to look away, tries to melt into the crowd (or maybe the floor!), but it’s to no avail, the man is set on him and Yoongi…. Laughs.
He smiles as Seokjin reaches him mid-chorus, Seokjin holds his hand up for a high-five, and Yoongi dutifully returns it.
The performance continues, and Yoongi watches as Seokjin links back up with the other two in time for their big choreographed finish. The crowd (and Yoongi) cheer and clap.
-
“Hi,” Seokjin says, finding Yoongi sometime later after the mandatory industry mingling. Yoongi had his own share of hands to shake and introductions to accept once they’d realized who he was. Now, Yoongi had been loitering near a standing table tucked in the back corner as his social battery reached near depletion.
“Hi,” Yoongi says back, his stomach does some weird kind of somersault thing.
“You came.”
Yoongi nods. “I was invited,” He shrugs, casually, and Seokjin laughs in response.
There are very few people left, the party is definitely winding down, and Yoongi has probably overstayed his welcome as a guest.
“So, what did you think?” Seokjin asks.
“Of the performance…. It didn’t suck.”
Seokjin grins. “High praise, Yoongi-ah”
They’re tucked away in the back corner. Yoongi’s maybe a little buzzed, braver than he should be and god, he hopes he hasn’t read this all wrong. He surges forward, has to press up on his toes a little as he presses a quick, almost shy kiss to Seokjin's lips.
Seokjin freezes.
But before Yoongi can panic, Seokjin grins again. “Do producers usually kiss their clients?” He asks, teasingly.
“Only the ridiculous ones,” Yoongi says back.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
[Epilogue]
The alarm goes off at 5 am, and Yoongi groans.
It’s still dark outside. No one should be forced to wake up when it’s still dark out, considering he’d only gone to bed… when it got dark out. He pats aimlessly around the side table until he finds the offending alarm and shuts it off. Another groan for good measure before he pulls the duvet cover over his head.
Silence.
Yoongi exhales and wills his brain to turn off and go back to sleep.
Silence.
“YOONGI!!!!”
It’s the only warning he gets before the weight of Kim Seokjin lands on top of him, trapping him as the duvet is peeled back slowly. Until Seokjin’s face comes into view.
“Are you trying to go back to sleep, Yoongi-ah? Nope, come on…. Up you get…” Seokjin wrestles away the blanket as he climbs off of Yoongi, tossing it aside and far out of Yoongi’s reach. “Up up… the fish wait for no man!!”
Yoongi groans, his eyes open to see Seokjin fully dressed in his fishing attire, vest, cargo pants, bucket hat and all.
“Do the fish have to be fished at 5 am?” Yoongi whines as he is being dragged towards the bathroom.
“5 am is LATE, Yoongi-ah. I let you sleep in.” He shoved Yoongi into the bathroom, with an added double-hand pat/grab to his butt on the way.
“Hey!” Yoongi yelps now wide awake as he turns back around, grabbing Seokjin and pulling him towards him. His lips crash into Seokjin’s, and for a moment, everything pauses. It’s just them, kissing softly.
Seokjin sighs into the kiss, melting slightly as Yoongi deepens it, pressing their bodies tighter together… Seokjin pulls away and swats Yoongi’s shoulder.
“That’s not going to work this time… WE’RE GOING FISHING!”
***