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Seokjin kills his audition, if he does say so himself.
He spent his entire winter break practicing, holed up in his room with the backing track playing, perfecting every note, every line. He spent hours in front of the mirror, tweaking his facial expressions until they conveyed the longing written masterfully into the song. He practiced until his entire family was sick of it, his brother threatening to gag him if he didn’t stop.
So he’s not surprised when he outperforms everyone else. He can’t help the smug little smile that settles on his lips as the last note rings through the auditorium.
“Brava!” Mrs. Darbus says, clapping.
Seokjin dips into a little bow, before glancing at the piano. Yoongi still has his fingers poised on the keys, but there’s something about his face. He was hoping for rapturous tears, his performance finally inspiring Yoongi to realize his unrealized love for Seokjin. He’d settle for a smile.
Instead, Yoongi’s beautiful face is blank and Seokjin’s heart drops.
He takes a deep breath, then plasters on a smile. “I even impressed myself with how good I was.”
Hoseok snorts. “Gotta love how humble you are, Jin.”
“Who needs humility when you have talent?” Seokjin asks as he walks off stage. “I’d ask if you had any criticisms but I was perfect.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Please. The second verse was a little pitchy.”
Seokjin slaps his arm. “Take that back! I have never been pitchy a day in my life.”
“Thanks Hoseok for singing with me even though you don’t want to be in this stupid musical. You were awesome,” Hoseok says. “You’re welcome Jin, I’m just that great a friend.”
Seokjin throws an arm around his shoulder. “Thank you. You were good. I was great, but you shouldn’t compare yourself to perf-”
Hoseok groans, laughing. “Shut up. Lover boy didn’t look too impressed.”
Seokjin sighs. “I know, maybe he has a head cold and his hearing is off, so he couldn’t hear how amazing I sounded.”
“Maybe you need to give up on your crush. There are like twelve people who would give their left arm to date you.”
“I don’t want them,” Seokjin says. “I want him.”
“Listen, free period is almost over, and I need to get to math, so unfortunately I can’t listen to you wax poetic about Yoongi. Maybe we can pick this up never?”
“Why are we even friends?”
“Trust me Jin, I ask myself that everyday.”
Seokjin gives him the finger, but Hoseok just laughs as he walks away. Seokjin’s about to leave too when he hears cursing. He turns to look back on stage where Yoongi’s dropped his sheet music and is scrambling to pick it up. This is his chance! He runs a hand through his hair and is about to walk on stage to graciously help, but someone beats him to it.
It takes him a moment to place the boy, the new kid who’s in his homeroom, Namjoon. Then he’s joined by Jungkook Jeon, and Seokjin wants to scream. How dare they take away this perfect opportunity to make Yoongi fall for him? He barely avoids slamming the door as he leaves. It’s okay, when he gets the part, he’ll have plenty of opportunity to practice with Yoongi.
Seokjin first noticed Yoongi last year. As a sophomore, Seokjin had firmly established himself as the shining jewel in the crown of their drama department. Well, calling the drama department a crown is generous. It’s more like a plastic tiara from the dollar store.
But even then, Seokjin is still a diamond, his talent shining in the roles he’d earned as a freshman. Sure, there wasn’t much competition, but what mattered is that Seokjin got to sing on stage, performing in front of adoring audiences. Maybe the audiences were small, but they were plenty adoring.
He’d been passing by one of the music rooms when he’d heard him. It was after school, so it didn’t make sense that someone was in there, not when Drama club had free reign over the practice rooms on Thursdays. He’d been about to tell whoever was in there off, until he paid attention to the music.
It was beautiful, soft and twinkling, something classical that he vaguely recognized but couldn’t name. He’d peeked in, and had seen him. Sitting straight backed, eyes closed as his fingers danced over the keys. He’d stayed there for ten minutes, listening as the boy played, transitioning from one song to the next.
It was only Hoseok when had come looking for him that Seokjin had left. He’d spent the entire afternoon telling Hoseok about the boy, about his hands and his face and his music.
In the next few weeks, Seokjin had asked around, and found out that his mystery music boy was named Yoongi, a fellow sophomore. Despite having gone to school with him for an entire year and a half, this was the first Seokjin was hearing of him, though to be fair, Seokjin’s friends were usually limited to the drama department.
He was careful about the questions he asked, it wouldn’t do to seem too eager, but even then it didn’t matter. Not much was known about Yoongi Min, only that he was smart, quiet, and kind of a loner. The deeper Seokjin dug, the less people knew.
“I have Bio with him but I don’t think I’ve heard him talk once.”
“He sits behind me in English, that’s all I know.”
“One time he let me borrow a pen when mine stopped working.”
It was like no one had noticed that Yoongi was the best thing about this stupid school.
It only took a few, well timed comments around Mrs. Darbus before the woman was dragging Yoongi into the school musicals. She prattled on about extra credit and college applications until Yoongi caved, and they suddenly had a new accompanist.
When Mrs. Darbus had let slip that Yoongi was playing piano for the winter musical, Seokjin had used every ounce of his acting ability to keep from punching the air in victory. Getting the lead, a given at this point, would mean that he could spend hours and hours secluded in a practice room with Yoongi. That way, he’d be able to learn more about the boy, while also letting him fall for Seokjin’s charms and good looks.
Now, all he has to do it wait to be given the part.
“Callback?!” Seokjin shrieks, his voice carrying down the hallway. People turn to look, but he ignores them, squinting to make sure he’d read the call sheet correctly.
Arnold and Martin
Callbacks Thursday 3:30 PM, Auditorium
Seokjin Kim & Hoseok Jung
Jungkook Jeon & Namjoon Kim
“Is this some kind of joke? They didn’t even audition!”
Hoseok rubs at his ear. “Damn Jin, I think you burst an eardrum. Careful of your voice, you’ll need it for the callback.”
“This is not the time for jokes!” he yells.
He catches a glimpse of Wildcat red in the corner of his eye, and he whips around. “Jungkook Jeon!”
Sure enough, Jungkook is surrounded by his basketball lackeys, and he looks to Seokjin with an expression of feigned innocence, the fiend. “What?”
“What?” Seokjin yells. “How dare you pretend like you aren’t trying to steal my part in the Winter Musicale!”
Jungkook’s shadow/best friend Jimin Park pushes his way into the conversation. “Nice joke Seokjin. As if Jungkook would ever be caught dead singing.”
A shadow of guilt passes over Jungkook’s face and Seokjin knows he has him. He’s sure this is just part of some elaborate jock prank to humiliate the drama department, and Seokjin won’t have it. He’s put his blood, sweat, and tears into this department and he won’t let some basketball player ruin it.
“Why don’t you check the call sheet then,” Seokjin says sweetly, stepping aside so Jimin can take a look.
Jungkook looks at him with wide, panicked eyes, and Seokjin just glares back.
“Wait, Kookie, your name is actually on this thing,” Jimin says, laughing.
“Yeah, uh, funny story. See, um-”
Seokjin doesn’t have time for his stuttering. “And who the fuck is Namjoon Kim?”
“Um, what?” a voice says from behind him.
Seokjin turns, only to see the tall, nerdy kid from their homeroom looking at him from behind round, wire rimmed glasses. “You?” Seokjin demands.
“Um, me what?”
“You and Jeon are trying to take our place in the winter musical,” Seokjin spits out.
“Listen-”
“No, you listen. I don’t know what you did to get a callback, but your little joke stops right here and right now!” With that Seokjin storms away, the crowd that had gathered around them parting as he stomped to first period.
Seokjin is still fuming when Hoseok slides into the seat beside him right before the bell rings.
“Jin, I’m serious, you need to chill,” Hoseok says in an undertone as the teacher starts taking attendance.
“Chill?” Seokjin hisses.”This is the first time I’ve had a callback since the fall musical in frensman year.”
“So what? You’re still going to get the part. Mrs. Darbus loves you.”
“She tolerates me at best,” Seokjin says. “She hates that I’m always trying to change things. For the better, I might add.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well if you tried to do that with me, I’d hate you, so she must like you to put up with it. And anyway, if you hadn’t made such a big, dramatic exit, you would have heard Jungkook try and explain away the audition to his friends. There’s no way he’s showing up to callbacks, that’ll be social suicide.”
As much as he wants to stay mad, Hoseok’s words are comforting. “Why’d he even audition in the first place? We’ve known him since kindergarten and he’s never once shown interest in anything musical.”
“I think it might be the new kid, Namjoon. I have Chem with him, and he was telling me that he’s into music.”
“You were consorting with the enemy!”
“Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung,” their teacher says, looking at them with his brows raised. “Care to share with the class?”
“No Mr. Garcia.”
“Well, then, continuing on, if you look at this equation…”
They wait until their teacher’s attention is back on the board to turn to each other again. “How come you’re friends with fucking Namjoon Kim?”
“First of all, I’m allowed to have friends other than you. Second, he’s a nice guy, you’d probably get along.”
“Maybe if he wasn’t conspiring with Jungkook Jeon,” Seokjin grumbles.
“You know, instead of doing all this, you could just talk to Yoongi,” Hoseok says with a knowing look.
“Fuck off,” Seokjin says, turning back to his notes. “It’s not even about that, it’s the principle of the matter.”
“You’re gonna try and tell me you’re not this upset because it gets in the way of your convoluted plan to finally have a conversation with Yoongi Min?”
“It would have been perfect! We’d practice together, and then we’d linger in the practice room, sitting side by side on the bench, and lose track of time talking, and he’d fall in love with me as an Andrew Lloyd Weber song played in the background.”
Hoseok looks at his skeptically. “You watch too many musicals,” he says, earning him a flick on the forehead.
“Mr. Kim and Mr. Jung, I’m losing my patience,” the teacher says, his voice sharp.
“Sorry, Mr. Garcia,” they both chorus, turning back to their notes.
Seokjin puts his all into preparing for the callback. He won’t let it slip through his fingers again. His audition was good, but this time he’s going to be great. He’s going to be flawless. He has to be.
There’s always been something Seokjin loves about practicing. Performing is great, the exhilaration that comes from being on stage, so many people and months of work coming together. When he’s practicing, he doesn’t have to worry about if he’s making weird faces, if he’s hitting all the right notes, if he’s pitchy. Well, he does, because he’s trying to fix all those things. But there are no stakes when it’s just him and the piano, he can just lose himself in the music and the joy that comes with singing.
He’s mostly just fooling around now, waiting for Hoseok to come from dance practice. As dedicated as Seokjin is to getting the lead, he knows better than to suggest Hoseok skip dance. He tries to tap out the melody of the song on the piano, eyes darting from the sheet music to the keys, wincing when he hits what’s clearly the wrong note. Neither him or Hoseok know how to play the piano, and Seokjin hasn’t been able to nag his brother into recording the accompaniment for them to practice to.
“You know, I could help you out if you want to practice,” a voice says from behind him.
Seokjin turns, eyes wide when he sees Yoongi standing in the doorway. “What?”
Yoongi takes this as an invitation, walking into the room. “I’m the accompanist, you could have asked me for help.”
“Oh,” Seokjin says, heart racing as Yoongi sits down beside him on the bench. He’s suddenly aware that this is the first time that they’ve actually talked to each other. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s my job,” he says with a shrug.
“Are you helping Jungkook and Namjoon too?” Seokjin asks before he can stop himself.
Yoongi turns to him. “Yeah, so I figure it’s only fair I help you too.”
He snorts. “Right. Fair.”
“What do you have against them?” Yoongi asks, not accusatory, just curious.
Seokjin wants to deflect, change the subject or make a joke, but there’s something about those sharp eyes that makes Seokjin feel laid bare, like Yoongi already knows his secrets, that him asking is just a formality.
“I’ve spent three years putting everything I have into this department,” Seokjin says, looking down at his hands. “I don’t think I’m the only one who deserves the lead, but I am the only one who’ll give the dedication it deserves. I know the musicals are a joke to the rest of the school, they don’t care about anything that isn’t basketball, but I don’t want Jungkook Jeon and some new kid to come in just to make a farce out of everyone’s hard work.”
When he glances up, Yoongi seems surprised, though he tries to hide it. Seokjin gives him a sardonic smile. “I know people think I’m this diva, and it’s fun to pretend to be like that, but I do care.”
“I never said you didn’t,” Yoongi hurries to say.
Seokjin pretends like it doesn’t hurt, plastering on a bright smile. “Let’s practice, yeah?”
Yoongi looks at him for a beat longer, and Seokjin’s heart races, their eyes locked. Then Yoongi turns to the piano, long fingers coming to rest on top of the keys. “From the top?”
“Yeah.”
It’s a lot easier to sing now that he doesn’t have to try and play at the same time. The lyrics are simple and sweet, and the first time he’d read them, Seokjin’s heart had fluttered at the thought of Yoongi writing them.
He’d planned to just sing his part of the duet, so he’s surprised when Yoongi comes in with Hoseok’s line. His voice is a little rough, but it’s nice, has Seokjin’s lips curving up in a smile despite himself. He turns a little so he can see Yoongi better, making eye contact as he sings his next line, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining it when the corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirk up as they move into the chorus.
The song ends, and for a moment, neither of them move, still looking into each other’s eyes. Yoongi looks away first, hands coming off the keys to rest in his lap. “Wow, you’re good.”
Seokjin pulls a face. “I messed up at the bridge, I was flat.”
“Want to go over that part again?”
“Yes please.”
By the time he has the bridge down, they’ve both shifted closer on the bench, their sides pressed together as Seokjin points something out on the sheet music.
“It sounds really good,” Yoongi finally says, turning to Seokjin with a smile.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll have treble with it anymore.”
Yoongi looks at him for a beat, before dissolving into giggles, even as his face is twisted up in disdain. “That’s horrible.”
Seokjin can’t hold back his own laughter, collapsing against Yoongi. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m disappointed in you for making the joke, and in myself for laughing.”
“I’ll have you know that puns and dad jokes are my second passion, after music.”
Their laughter is interrupted by a knock at the door. They both turn to see Hoseok standing in the doorway, his eyebrows raised. “Am I interrupting?”
Seokjin’s cheeks warm, and he glares at his friend. “Not at all, we were just practicing.”
“Right,” Hoseok says with a knowing smile.
Yoongi gets up off the bench. “I actually have to, um, go.”
“Oh,” Seokjin says, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“But we could practice again, if you wanted? I mean, if you need my help. If not, that’s ok-”
“That’d be great,” Seokjin hurries to say. “I’d appreciate that. A lot.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says, with this tiny little smile that Seokjin wants to taste. “Maybe I could give you my number? So we could, um, figure out a time or something?”
“Yeah. Right, that’s a good idea.”
Yoongi hands him his phone and Seokjin puts in his number. He debates for a second, and then adds the winky-kissy face emoji after his name. He hands it back to Yoongi before he can regret it. He’s hoping Yoongi will just put his phone in his pocket, but he looks at it, freezing. Seokjin is about to apologize when he realizes that Yoongi’s cheeks are pink.
“Right,” Yoongi says, looking at his feet. “See you.”
With that, he walks out of the room.
Hoseok fortunately waits until Yoongi is out of earshot before bursting into laughter.
After that, Yoongi and Seokjin start texting. At first it’s just to set up a time for them to practice, but then Yoongi mentions Biology and they both start complaining about Ms. Clarins. Then it turns out they both watch the same anime, and they spend hours talking about Haikyuu. That somehow transforms into a text thread that never really ends, both of them finding new things to talk about. It leaves Seokjin with a warm feeling in his chest, his phone never out of arm’s reach just in case Yoongi texts.
“Looks like your crush isn’t so hopeless after all,” Hoseok says, lying on the floor of Seokjin’s room. They’re supposed to be studying, but Seokjin prioritizes texting a cute boy over Spanish homework.
“Maybe he’s just being friendly,” Seokjin says, even as he hopes it isn’t true.
Hoseok gives him an unimpressed look. “Right. That’s why he found an excuse to spend extra time with you. And texts you nonstop. And sends you selfies.”
“When you put it like that…”
“So, are you going to ask him out?”
“Ha. No. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Right, sounds like you have that figured out,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “What happened to the twelve step plan?”
“I mean, step twelve was winning Tony awards so it was always more theoretical than practical.”
Before Hoseok can respond, they’re interrupted by a knock on the door, Seokjin’s mother sticking her head in.
“You boys doing alright?” she asks.
“We’re fine Eomma.”.
“There’s a lot of talking going on here for a study session,” she says pointedly.
“We’re talking about our work,” Seokjin says, matching her tone.
She gives him a look, but lets it slide. “Hoseok-ah, will you be staying for dinner?”
“No Auntie,” Hoseok replies in Korean. “I told my mom I’d be home by six. But thank you for asking.”
“See Jin-ah, Hoseok is so polite, you should be more like him.”
Seokjin waits until she’s closed the door and her footsteps have faded to throw his pillow at his friend’s face. “Kiss ass.”
“Didn’t you hear your mom, Jin-ah? You should be more like me.”
Of course, Seokjin has no choice after that, he has to try and smother Hoseok. It’s a matter of honour.
Seokjin isn’t expecting anyone to be in the practice room. It’s late enough that most of the school is deserted, most people not wanting to stick around two hours after the end of the school day. The only reason he was there was because he’d made a compromise with his parents, promising that he’d keep up his grades if they let him participate in the school musicals. He’d argued that it would look good on his college applications, and after that, they’d relented.
So Seokjin had spent the time after class in the library, finishing all his homework for the weekend so he could get it out of the way, letting him focus on his upcoming call back. Yoongi had been busy, so he has to practice on his own, but at least this way he can focus on the music instead of the other boy sitting almost too close to him on the piano bench.
That’s why he’s especially surprised to open the door to the practice room and find it occupied by Jungkook Jeon of all people.
“What are you doing here?” they say at the same time.
Seokjin clears his throat. “I’m here to practice.”
“Oh. I’m practicing too.”
“You couldn’t have practice earlier?” Seokjin asks, irritated.
“Um, I had basketball practice before this, so I just got here.”
“Right, basketball.”
Jungkook bristles at his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just, it’s clear where your priorities are, is all.”
“Yeah, well, why are you just getting here? Doesn’t seem like this is a priority to you either then, by your logic,” Jungkook shoots back.
“Not when I’ve been in here with Yoongi every other day this week,” Seokjin counters.
“God, why are you so irritating?” Jungkook asks, rolling his eyes. “It’s just the school musical, not Broadway.”
“Exactly! It’s just the school musical to you, I knew it. Let me guess, is this a little joke you cooked up with your friends, make a laughing stock out of the drama department?”
“Sorry to tell you this, but I don’t have to try to do that.”
Seokjin gasps, affronted. “How dare you?”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I genuinely want to be in the spring musical?”
Seokjin snorts, disbelieving. “One, you’re Jungkook Jeon, basketball star. You’re the most popular person in the school, and the drama department is the opposite of cool. Two, I’ve known you since kindergarten, and you’ve never before been interested in drama or music. Three, you-”
“That’s not true,” Jungkook says, cutting him off.
“What?”
“You said I’ve never been into music, and that’s not true. Don’t you remember, we were in the church choir together.”
Seokjin opens his mouth to dismiss this as the obvious lie it is, when he’s suddenly hit with a memory of being a lot younger, maybe seven or eight. He remembers Jungkook, just as tiny as he was, a few rows ahead of him as they stood on the risers at Christmas singing carols they'd spent weeks practicing.
“See,” Jungkook says, taking Seokjin’s silence as a win. “You don’t know me, you just think you do. Just like everyone else. They see Jungkook the basketball guy, but what if I want to be more than that?”
“Shit, you’re actually serious about this,” Seokjin says, sitting down heavily on the bench beside Jungkook.
“Yeah. Maybe I wasn’t before, I mostly auditioned because Namjoon wanted to, but it’s fun. It’s different from basketball. I still love playing ball,” Jungkook hurries to say, as if he needs to justify himself to Seokjin. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always love basketball, but I never realized that loving basketball meant I wasn’t allowed to love anything else.”
“Why’d you stop choir, then?” Seokjin asks, curious. “You were really good.”
Jungkook grimaces. “Dad wanted me to join an intramural league, and it was the same time as choir practice, so…”
“Damn, that sucks.”
“It’s not that, I loved the league, and I don’t regret it, it’s just that now everyone acts like I can’t do this musical, as if loving singing makes me love basketball any less.. And then everyone, you, my dad, Jimin, they all made it seem like I couldn’t do this, so it just made me want to prove everyone wrong.”
“So really, I created my worst enemy,” Seokjin jokes.
Jungkook cracks a smile at that. “Yeah, well, you throwing a fit in the hallway sort of sealed the deal.”
“And I’m sure Namjoon Kim has nothing to do with it,” Seokjin teases.
Jungkook blushes, shoving Seokjin with his shoulder. “Shut up.”
Seokjin hums thoughtfully. “I guess he’s cute if a nerdy string bean is your type.”
“I’m guessing Yoongi is more your type,” Jungkook says slyly.
It’s Seokjin’s turn to blush, chopping at Jungkook’s neck with his hand. “Fuck off.”
The day of the call back, Seokjin feels surprisingly settled, his nerves tinged with excitement. After hearing Jungkook sing, Seokjin can reluctantly admit that his competitor for the role is talented. He feels something like guilt at his immediate assumption that Jungkook had nefarious intentions in auditioning for the musical.
“Ready for the audition?” Hoseok asks when Seokjin picks him up in front of his house.
“I was born ready,” Seokjin says with a huff.
Hoseok laughs. “This is just your destiny, right?”
“Our destiny,” Seokjin corrects. “It’s me and you Hobi.”
That earns him a weird look. “What’s wrong with you, you’re being weird.”
He smiles, forcing the words out. “I just wanted to say that I...appreciate you.”
“Is someone making you say this? Are you being held hostage?”
Seokjin shoves him. “It’s come to my attention that sometimes I can get caught in my whole...self and I’m trying to be more sensitive to those around me.”
“We’ve never been those kind of people. We’re more the ‘pretend that emotions are something that lesser beings have’ type.”
Seokjin lets out a breath, his shoulders dropping with relief. “Oh thank god, that was painful.”
Hoseok just laughs at him, and Seokjin gives him the finger before heading towards school.
“Can I ask what brought this on?” Hoseok asks.
Seokjin shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “I had a talk with Jungkook, and I might have realized that not everything is about me.”
“You and Jungkook having a conversation that isn’t just insulting each other back and forth? Sounds unrealistic.”
“Maybe I might have misjudged him. He might not be the worst person in the entire school.”
“Is he trying to usurp my position as your best friend? Because if he is then I might have beef with him.”
Seokjin snorts. “He’s still very sports and I definitely can’t handle that for too long without breaking out. Trust me, you’ll always be my best friend. We have too much dirt on each other at this point.”
“Ah second grade, when you drank three milk cartons and-"
“Finish that sentence and I’m making you walk the rest of the way.”
Seokjin peeks out at the crowd from behind the curtain. There are more people than he expected, and he feels a thrill of nerves run through him. It’s probably because of Jungkook, and Seokjin is surprised he doesn’t feel any resentment at that. In fact, he’s glad to see Jungkook’s two best friends, Jimin Park and Taehyung Kim, in the front row.
“Nervous?” a voice asks, startling him.
Seokjin yelps, whipping around to see Yoongi smirking at him.
“You scared me,” Seokjin says, placing a hand on his chest, his heart racing under his palm.
“Well, if anyone doubted your range, that sure proved them wrong. What was that, a B5?”
Seokjin shoves him. “Ass.”
Yoongi’s smile shifts to something softer, shyer. “I wanted to wish you luck.”
Something like hope catches in Seokjin’s chest. He hopes his face isn’t red, even though he’s sure his ears are. “Thanks.”
“Not that you need it, you’re um, really good.”
“I thought you were rooting for Jungkook,” Seokjin asks, smiling to let him know that he’s just teasing.
Yoongi nodding towards a corner where sure enough, Jungkook and Namjoon are blushing at each other over sheet music. “I told him too, don’t worry.”
Seokjin gives an exaggerated gasp, as if affronted. “Wow, here I was, thinking I was special.”
“You are,” Yoongi says, too fast, too honest. “You are special.”
“Oh.”
Yoongi’s cheeks are pink, and Seokjin wants to kiss them, wants to press him against the wall and feel the warmth of Yoongi’s blush against his lips.
“Five minutes!” Mrs. Darbus calls out, stealing Seokjin’s attention. He turns back to see her standing with her clipboard. “Performers be ready!”
He turns back to Yoongi, ready to end their conversation. He still needs to find Hoseok, who’s disappeared off to who knows where. But there’s a steely determination in Yoongi’s eyes that stops him short.
Yoongi takes a step forward, until they’re toe to toe, until he can feel their chests are practically brushing. He pushes himself onto his toes, and carefully kisses the corner of Seokjin’s mouth.
Seokjin stands frozen, trying to process what just happened. He knows he should do something, say something, but his mind is caught on the way Yoongi’s lips felt so so soft.
“You are special,” Yoongi repeats, this time looking at his shoes, his cheeks flaming. With that, he waddles away, towards the piano.
Yoongi kissed him.
Yoongi kissed him.
Yoongi kissed him.
“Wait, Yoongi,” he calls out, finally moving, weaving through the people milling around. He catches Yoongi’s arm, tugging him to turn. He must have tugged too hard because Yoongi stumbles into him, hands pressed against Seokjin’s chest to catch himself.
He looks up at Seokjin with wide eyes, and Seokjin can’t help himself. He moves to wrap his arm around Yoongi’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Seokjin kisses him like he’s thought of doing a thousand times before, and somehow it’s even better than anything he could have imagined.
“Two minutes! Seokjin and Hoseok be ready!”
Seokjin reluctantly breaks the kiss, gratified in the way Yoongi chases after his lips, eyes still closed.
“I need to go sing,” Seokjin says into the space between them, voice hushed.
“I need to go...piano.”
Seokjin laughs, darting in to peck Yoongi’s lips. “Yeah, you do.”
Yoongi seems to gather himself because he steps back. Seokjin immediately misses the warmth of his weight against his chest.
“We’ll talk after?” Yoongi asks.
Seokjin hurries to nod. “Yeah. Yes, definitely.”
Yoongi smiles, wide and gummy. “Cool.”
“Cool.”
Hoseok chooses that moment to bound up to them, hooking an arm around Seokjin’s shoulders. “Ready lovebirds?”
They both blush, Seokjin shoving Hoseok off him.
“I should get to the piano,” Yoongi says, but makes no move to go.
“And we need to get on stage if we don’t want Mrs. Darbus to give the part to Jungkook and Namjoon,” Hoseok says, tugging Seokjin away.
“Good luck,” Yoongi calls.
“You too,” Seokjin replies, inanely. He immediately regret it, but Yoongi laughs before heading over to the side stage, where the piano is waiting.
“So we’re definitely going to be talking about that later, right?” Hoseok asks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokjin says airily.
Hoseok laughs. “Okay, fine. I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
They take their marks, and Seokjin takes a deep breath. He looks over his shoulder to where Yoongi is settling at the piano, shuffling his sheet music as he talks to the page turner.
“Ready?” Hoseok asks.
Seokjin turns back, looking straight ahead at the red curtain.
“Ready.”