Work Text:
the door to the studio will be opened at 10 am. if yoongi is early, he will wait outside, and namjoon will stand next to him. if yoongi is late, he will stand and wait until the clock hits 11, and then he will step in.
upon entering the studio, yoongi will turn to lock the door, before heading towards the door. before he sits, he will pause, then turn around and lock the door once more, checking to see if it's secure. he will head back to the chair, pause, then turn around to lock the door again, in order to be sure. he will head back to the chair, only to blink and wonder if he ever remembered to lock the door, and proceed to swivel on his heels and lock it, before heading back. wanting to make sure, he will turn around, locking the door one final time, before tugging the leather chair out and plopping in it.
the soft blanket yankee candle must be lit before he turns on the computer, and the computer must be turned on before the synthesizers and launchpads. the candle takes awhile to warm up, and so does the computer.
while he waits, he will pick up his phone and type out a message to his boyfriend, who's probably getting ready to practice, or rehearse, or just go out with his groupmates. namjoon joins them every other day, leaving yoongi alone in the studio.
to: hoseok. ♡
hi, i'm at the studio.
have fun, i love you!
he will set the phone down, fingers drumming on the phone, before getting a response back.
from: hoseok. ♡
i'm in the car right now, i'm so bored.
i love you too, hyung, please don't overwork yourself!
yoongi will relax, his hand moving over to the mouse, clicking on a few files. but then he'll stop, and his hands will go back to his phone, just to be safe that hoseok received his message.
to: hoseok. ♡
i'm at the studio already,
i already miss you.
i love you!
and a minute later, hoseok will reply back.
from: hoseok. ♡
i love you too, i'm on the way to rehearsals!
♡♡♡♡♡
the files will open and yoongi stares at them for a brief moment, before his hands impulsively grab his phone to type in another message.
to: hoseok. ♡
i love you.
a lot.
i'm at the studio, i'll be home soon.
♡
and hoseok will respond back.
from: hoseok. ♡
i love you twice as much!
we're about to go in to practice.
heart eyes!!!
and yoongi will close the files, before reopening them again, before his hands hitch towards his phone again.
to: hoseok. ♡
i love you.
♡♡♡♡♡
i'll be home around 9, maybe.
just to be sure.
from: hoseok. ♡
i know, hyuung. i love you just as much.
we're in the practice one now.
and just a final time, to really, really, really be sure.
to: hoseok. ♡
i love you.
i love you.
i love you.
i love you.
i love you.
yoongi makes sure he counts of five of them, before pressing send.
from: hoseok. ♡
i love you twice as much.
i love you a lot.
i love you so much.
i love you more than you'll ever know.
i love you, and i want you to know that.
and by the time he finishes reading, the clock should read 11:45. (an hour later if he comes a little late.) and it's then that yoongi will relax, working on his tracks.
if namjoon is here, then at 1:00 (or 2:00, if they come late) he will enter yoongi's workroom using the spare key and place a glass of hot chocolate besides him, wordlessly. yoongi will murmur a thank you, fingers wrapped around the heated mug as he brings it to his lips, not setting it down until the quiet click of his door indicates that namjoon is gone.
if namjoon is not here, then at 1:00 (or 2:00, if yoongi comes late) jimin will send him a photo, usually a selfie with him and tae, occasionally cramming in jeongguk. a short message will appear next to it, something like "we're so tired! ㅠㅠ" and yoongi will smile, saving it inside his phone.
he'll send a short message back, maybe add in a few emojis or exclamation marks, but almost always ending in five hearts.
and then he'll work again.
around 3 (or 4) he'll receive a phone call. yoongi will wait until five rings before picking up, mustering the courage to whisper a quiet "hi".
"did you eat yet?" and it'll be seokjin's voice, laced with mild disapproval. yoongi will laugh sheepishly, and say no, and seokjin will threaten to haul both him and namjoon (if he's there) out of the studios back home.
yoongi will apologize with a hidden smile, before stating that yes, he'll take care of himself, namjoon too, before mumbling a soft "bye hyung", and a softer "i love you" at the end.
and seokjin will pause, before saying back, "i love you too; please take care of yourself." before hanging up.
the conversation should end around 3:15, if not, yoongi will wait, before blowing out the candle and walking out the door. he'll lock the door five times, just to be sure, and knock on namjoon's door five times.
the younger male will pop his head out and flash yoongi a broad smile. "is it already time to get lunch?"
they'll walk to the cafeteria, sometimes to the shops outside. yoongi's learning to break out of his molds, choosing to eat different foods on different days on different weeks. he'll think about his routines, on how sandwiches are supposed to be for mondays, but then he'll change his mind and pick against it. it's difficult at first, but it's becoming a little more tolerable.
"lunch" should finish around 4:15, and he should be completely settled at his desk by 4:45, ready to work. the candle is relit, and yoongi will sink back into the leather chair.
at 7 (or 8), there will be a message sent by jeongguk. it's merely a YouTube link to a song he likes, but yoongi will open it and listen to it, before giving his thoughts on it. if he likes it, he'll add it to his spotify playlist.
today's link opens up to butterfly by sogyumo acacia band. the song is nice, but it bothers him that the song ends at 4:01 instead of a solid 4:00. he doesn't mention it, though; he just tells jeongguk he enjoys it, and ends with a smiley face. just to not sound cold, a little friendly. :)
around 9, usually, is when yoongi goes home. he'll save his work five times, before clicking exit on the tabs and officially shutting down the computer. the candle will be blown out, and he'll shuffle around hesitantly, before going back to the door of his studio and locking it five times. he'll wait for namjoon, because namjoon takes a little long, and then they'll go back to the dorms.
back home.
》》
"some people thought we would never make it, but to the many people who believed in us, our fans, the company, we are grateful. thank you pd bang, thank you suga hyung, thank you to those who have supported us, and most of all, thank you to all our fans!"
the first buzz after every speech that namjoon gives out is "bts winning award". the second is "namjoon's speech". the third happens to be "who is suga".
and yoongi could step in, he could make a short post saying "hi, i'm originally BTS's second member, min yoongi." but he doesn't, and he merely sinks back into the shadows of his dorm. a little like now, when all of his beloved members are crying their eyes out holding that daesang, far, far away on that stage. they did tell him go to earlier, but yoongi...yoongi doesn't know. he doesn't do very well at award show; the anxiousness, the apprehension, the tension—no. it's too much. he's content with curling on the couch, watching with a fond smile, fingers tapping in steady sets of fives.
they get off the stage, settling back in their seats, and a few minutes later, yoongi receives a spam of messages in the group chat. it's mostly maknae line making excited remarks, with all their exclamation marks and stretched out vowels. seokjin sends a video attachment, and it's a video of them cheering loudly, eyes crinkled and lips puckering up. namjoon says "we did it! we finally did it!" and it's the bittersweet we that makes yoongi blink slowly, a slow smile spreading across his face.
because even if BTS is known as a six member group to the world, in their hearts, they're seven. yoongi's always there to support them, even if he can't be there physically.
i'm proud, he writes back, and he leaves it at that.
》》
it starts a few months before their debuts, after hours of dance practice, vocal practice, and constant repetition ingrained in their brains and bodies. yoongi's okay, he follows through, he tries his best, he does well.
and then things fall apart. yoongi's tracks delete due to the slightest mishaps, forcing him to stay cooped up in the studio, alone. he works for hours at a time with minor breaks, refusing to eat and sleep for a straight two days straight until he can recreate the same beats. yet, it doesn't exactly feel the same, nor does it sound the same, and it's frustrating, it's so fucking frustrating that he justs—wants—to—make—it—perfect.
he goes on stage for the first time, to practice, but it's so foreign, so strange; the area is so vast compared to his little sets in the clubs that it makes him feel so small and vulnerable, his stomach clenching and ears ringing, concerned faces blurring together as are you okays fade into the background and he's sweating, he's sweating so hard, he feels so sick that he just wants to run. yoongi stumbles back, farther and farther until his back hits the bathroom stall and he locks himself in it, body shaking.
and it happens, again and again, the moment he steps on the stage with all the blinding lights in his face, his body reacting automatically by curling up tightly inside the cramped safe space of the dingy bathroom, rocking slowly until he fades away. it doesn't stop there, either, with yoongi constantly antagonizing the other members by pointing out their slightest mistakes, like a single foot a little farther than usual, when he himself, can't even get it right. "are you the choreography leader or me?" hoseok snaps one day, and yoongi's head spins.
there's a constant fear of messing up, yoongi pushing himself harder than before, making sure every detail is to be as perfect as possible before their debut. and he doesn't know when it starts happening, when the fives start coming out, when he starts the repetitions, but it's the only way he feels better. "why are you repeating yourself? that's the second time." taehyung asks in confusion, and yoongi only mumbles that he wants to be sure.
the director calls him up to ask him what's going on, and yoongi's mouth dries up as a weak i don't know spills out. he's been doing so well, he's pushed through everything, through his parents, through the ridicule, through the two part time jobs that fucked up his shoulder—and yet, now, he falls. not charmingly, not majestically, but in an absolute state of mess.
their debut is delayed, and yoongi feels so awful that he ends up locking himself in the studio for days at a time, the batteries of his phone thrown across the room. maybe he can sweat it out, take a long nap, be alone for a bit until he can get rid of all the filthy toxin inside of him—
he stays in too long, maybe, because one day he wakes up room of pure white, arms connected to an iv tube. there are people around, his friends, his groupmates, and his mother.
"what happened?" he croaks out, eyes blinking blearily.
the doctor opens his mouth to say something, but he gets cut off, as anguished cried of "yoongi" and "hyung" ring in the air, open arms attacking him.
》》
"hyung!" comes the chirpy noises, and it startles yoongi as his head jerks up. it's taehyung, a boxy smile spread across his face as he plops down on the couch, body draping over yoongi's. "didja take your meds yet?"
snorting playfully, yoongi snakes an arm around him. "unlike someone, i'm punctual."
head ducking sheepishly, taehyung rolls over his body in a puppy-like manner, face beaming upwards. it's an endearing sight. "i know, i just—wanted to make sure." he pauses, as if hesitating, before murmuring out. "come to tokyo with us."
he stiffens. "i don't—"
"please?" taehyung drawls out, eyelashes battering playfully. "think of it as a vacation! you get vip seats to korea's hottest rising boy bands! and then you get to go out and have fun with them, too!" he chimes animatedly, wiggling against yoongi's lap.
yoongi's gotten a lot better, with the help of the meds. he adjusts to change a lot easier, and his reactions aren't as bad as before. sometimes people will come into the bangtan dorm for a reality show, and yoongi will simply lug his stuff over to the studio. sometimes they do v apps, and yoongi watches them from the corner, or behind the camera, or even on his phone. if they go to concerts overseas, yoongi occasionally goes, but he usually just stays in the studio, working on the tracks and webcamming them across the ocean.
and so change makes yoongi freeze, his shoulders tensing, but he doesn't freak out or break into cold sweat like those other times. taehyung's fingers weave their way against yoongi's palm, squeezing gently with a soft look in his eyes, and it's a reminder that change is okay sometimes.
"we have to get chicken katsu," he says faintly, lips pursed together.
taehyung's face breaks out into a delighted grin, and it somehow relieves the anxiety that boils up inside of yoongi.
》》
"this is what's going to happen. we're going to debut bangtan as a six member group, and you'll have about a year to a year and a half to decide on what you want. if you're ready to join, then we'll add you in and introduce you as the seventh member in the next comeback. please take care of yourself, yoongi; you're and brilliant artist."
it hurts at first, watching the boys dance so animatedly on music bank to one of the songs he worked hard on. they're panting on stage while yoongi's fingers are curled around a glass of water, staring menacingly at the tiny pill.
yoongi can remember the first words clearly: you've been diagnosed with ocd. he protested against it at first, eyebrows furrowed together because—because it didn't make sense. he was fine before, even through depression, and it just—doesn't—comprehend.
"namjoon."
"yeah?"
"tell me straight up because this whole fucking thing doesn't make sense."
yoongi likes him for a reason; he's rational and reliable, giving the truth without being too harsh or soft. the difference in their ages is only a year, dampening the formalities when they talk. namjoon sits next to him on the plastic chair, blinking haphazardly.
"...okay, this is what your psychiatrist told us; your depression back in high school kind of triggered the ocd? but it was kind of subtle? and it makes sense because—i thought you always had this "perfectionist" mentality and was always pretty critical. but the pressure prior debut kinda sent you on a meltdown, and—yeah. it escalated."
there's a pause, as yoongi presses his lips together in a tight line. "great, i worked all my life for this and—my head's too fucked up to let me continue."
"you're not fucked up—"
"have you ever seen all idol with ocd, joon?" the older male barks out, the sharp words causing namjoon to flinch. "no, because it doesn't work out. it can't happen. i can't be a fucking idol," yoongi hisses, rapid breaths cutting into his words. "and—i just. fuck, i wanted it so bad, and this basically ends my music career—"
"don't say that."
"you don't understand—"
"ocd doesn't define you." comes the terse words, and yoongi is shaking, because it's so easy for him to say. "yoongi, you know you're brilliant and you know that everyone loves your muse," namjoon murmurs out, leaning close. "it's just that there's a lot of negativity that clouds your mind."
his fingers rest on yoongi's thighs, fingers tapping against the skin in steady sets of five. it's odd, but it calms yoongi down, erratic breathing coming to a steady pace.
"none of us are going to leave you, hyung. one small thing isn't going to tear us apart."
and yoongi thinks that this is the best namjoon, the one where the makeup is wiped away from his face and he has that stupid head tilt and gummy smile that makes him look so soft that yoongi can melt in his gaze.
"okay."
》》
at the fansign in japan, there is a note given to seokjin.
who is suga? he's always mentioned.
suga's a very special person to all of us. without him, bangtan wouldn't be bangtan.
》》
"they're not allowing me to live with you guys—"
"bullshit," seokjin snaps, eyebrows furrowed together. "i love you, hoseok, but you're not moving in with me."
"it makes sense," yoongi flushes, eyes diverting to the ground. he's wearing a baggy hoodie and sweats now, having discharged from the hospital after a couple of months. "i'm technically not part of the grou—"
"i will fight bighit," taehyung huffs, eyebrows furrowed as he crosses his arms. "it's not the same if you leave the dorm, hyung; who else is gonna cook if seokjin hyung's away?" he pouts, and yoongi can't help but roll his eyes with a small smile.
"besides, you're still part of the line-up, and you know the dance and everything. they're not gonna replace you, and in a year, when you're better, hyung, you can officially join us back on stage!" he continues animatedly.
and so contrary to the expected, six boys march up to the ceo, begging for him to stay. yoongi can still learn everything, make music and provide vocals; they'll cover him up and avoid taking photos with him; it'll work out, it'll work out, they chant.
(but there's other reasons, and yoongi knows it. hoseok and namjoon bring up his illness, and how it certainly won't improve home or alone or with the other trainees—it's them, they're the only ones that can genuinely help yoongi, or at least, alleviate the pain he goes through. and it's touching, really, how much they care for him, the member that weighed them down.)
it's a make or break deal, and in the end, the ceo begrudgingly allows them to live together; all seven boys. "you have to work twice as hard," he warns, and all seven of them nod eagerly.
yoongi remembers it, not only because of the happiness the shines on each of the members faces, but also because of hoseok. it's a few hours after yoongi settles back in the dorm that hoseok takes his hand and drags him outside, feet stumbling to after stop on the doorsteps.
"hoseok, what—"
"i didn't want you to leave." he chokes out in a worried tone, and there's tears filling his eyes. "i really, really didn't want—to debut—with you—far away—"
yoongi softens, lips quirked into a tight smile. "it's not far away, you know where trainees dorm at. you could drop by for a visit anytime."
"it's not the same," he lashes out in a choked voice, arms snaking around yoongi and holding him so firmly. "hyung, i want to take care of you, it was—that was so scary when—when you broke down and—"
it's then that yoongi realizes that there's something else that affects the way hoseok thinks. he tentatively slides his arms around hoseok's waist, humming softly.
"hyung, i like you—" the words tumble out, and everything seems to click. "and i wouldn't want anything to happen to you—"
"nothing's gonna happen, hoseok." yoongi says, his heart swelling up tenfold and his throat seizing up, fingers curling tightly around the hem of hoseok's t-shirt. he's happy, but conflicted because this shouldn't really be happening—it's already too risky with yoongi being a seventh member in a dorm of a six-member group, and he can't be liking hoseok and dating him and ruining his potential career as an idol—
yoongi's shaking, his breathing growing shorter with every thought that runs through his mind. hoseok pulls and way to survey him with concerned eyes, before cupping his cheeks and bringing him closer. the younger male's not taller by much, but at this time and space, yoongi feels so small.
"you always think too much. that's why you're like this," he mumbles, before leaning down to press a kiss against yoongi's lips.
and just like this that, all the anxiety that yoongi tries so hard to keep hidden and neutralized comes melting down, dissipating into the wintry air.
》》
dinners are nice, with just the seven of them in a private room. dinner makes yoongi feel normal, his eyes lightening up with enthusiasm as he leans over to place the pieces of fried meat into jeongguk's plate. yoongi leans into seokjin's side, hiding his laughter as namjoon attempts to cook up some meat, only to fail completely and leave scorch marks against the grill.
"terrible," taehyung clicks his tongue, shoving lettuce in his mouth.
namjoon shoots him a glare. "as if you could do better—"
"i could—"
"prove it—"
so they do, and yoongi snorts at both of their poor attempts at grilling as much meat as they can under 5 minutes. namjoon turns the heat on all the way, wanting to cook more in the limited amount of time, while taehyung mumbles something about "quality over quantity" and doused the slices of pork belly in a variety of sauces.
the result is a horrifying mess that leaves all of the seven boys collapsing into giggles, and small games with vmon's so-called-edible dishes as punishment.
tokyo is nice, yoongi enjoys it alot. he's able to break away from the rigid schedules that keep him sane, in exchange for a breath of air. the tics still occur, like how yoongi will repeatedly flip the meat five times before grabbing it from the pan, but they're subtle, and no one pays much attention to it. it's during times like these where yoongi feels so safe and comfortable he can actually laugh and grin without all of the restraints. maybe, he thinks, traveling isn't too awful, and maybe he could get used to it—adopt it into his "schedule".
the more he thinks about it, he realizes that the remedy isn't exactly all the rules and time-tables that he sets up from him, nor is in the prescription bottles that he swallows each month.
it's here, it's the simple presence of six other boys.
》》
it's 2 am when yoongi closes the front door, a sweater-covered fist rubbing his eyes as he locks the door, five times. he's hardly coherent as here strips off the boots to reveal black fuzzy socks, sliding against the floor of their dorm.
he's more than asleep when he flings himself into the bed, face burying into the cold duvet without a care. yoongi squirms, hands blindly searching the bed until his hands land on blankets, tugging them up roughly. except, they don't budge, and no matter how hard he seems to try, it seems to be futile.
"what the hell," he growls, turning to his side to be greeted with seokjin and a piercing gaze. it's the kind that's soft, yet a sense of firmness somehow lingers in them, giving a feel of authority without the intimidation.
"you," the elder, starts off calmly, pushing himself up from the bed to walk over towards yoongi, roughly yanking the covers from underneath him, "are to come home at nine, everyday. no exceptions."
"i have work. i'm a grown adult—"
"yeah?" he laughs, voice bitter as he pulls the blankets over yoongi, tugging down the pillows. "well, we let you do that and look what happened."
yoongi flushes, sinking further into the cushions.
"jacket." seokjin commands, and yoongi obliges, shoulders shaking off the thick coat and handing it over to the other. "look, i'm not saying you can't take care of yourself, but for the time being, i'm doing this for your sake, yoongi." he murmurs out in a lighter tone, folding the jacket in his arms and placing it over the chair. "so please cooperate, i just—don't want you hurting yourself again."
and it does make sense; yoongi's lack of sleep contributed to his little bouts of insanity. he gives seokjin a curt nod, tugging the blankets further up.
seokjin smiles, and it's like the sun rising at 3 am in the morning. he leans over to place a gentle kiss on the top of yoongi's forehead, before taking a step back. "we miss you in the practice room." the words resonate through the room, as seokjin shuffles back to the opposite side.
"me too." yoongi mumbles out, hardly loud enough for the older male to hear. there's a pause, before a click turns off the lamplight, shrouding them in darkness.
"hey, hyung?"
"yeah?"
he wants to say thank you, but the words "good night" seem to stumble out instead.
silence answers his calls, until seokjin's quiet chuckle cuts into the awkwardness. "good night to you too, yoongi." and he seems to understand, judging by the amusement in his voice.
that's probably what yoongi loves the most about seokjin, how he seems to know yoongi better than yoongi knows himself.
》》
it's always been speculated that bangtan's a unique group. they're not from the top 3, yet they work so hard to achieve what most can't do. they write their own songs, produce their own tracks, conjure up their own choreography.
but the oddest thing isn't that, it's the fact that there seems to be two versions of every song.
the studio version seems to feature a seventh member—a fourth rapper—but there's no credits given towards them. during the performance versions, taehyung and hoseok seem to share those lines.
who's the person doing raps in the studio version of BST? the fan note reads, and jeongguk finds himself lost for words when he stares at the pretty brown orbs that shine with so much curiosity.
he knows yoongi doesn't want to reveal himself, but he can't help but think—when, when, when. it's been four years, and yoongi really does deserve to shine for all the hard work he's done.
it's the same person as agust d., a very close hyung to all of us.
》》
"come on, hyung!" jimin chirps, teetering on his heels impatiently. he wears a sunny smile on his face, eyes bright as he beams at yoongi.
"jesus, calm down," he snorts, sticking the key into the door and locking it. they're prepared to go out on a little coffee shop outing today, more or less because jimin craves starbucks and doesn't want to go alone.
"how can i? that green tea frap is calling out for me," he bemoans dramatically, causing yoongi to laugh as he strides out to jimin.
yoongi opens his mouth to throw him a snarky remark when his gut seems to nag at him, the words checkthedoorcheckthedoorcheckthedoor repeating over and over and again in his head. "....let me just. check, and we can go."
"hurry!" jimin drawls out in a playful yelp while yoongi makes his way to the door. he sticks the key in and turns it again, testing the handle to be sure, before walking back.
there's hardly silence, as jimin peers at him curiously, before checkthedoorcheckthedoorcheckthedoor grows louder in his head. the younger male's lips move, but he can't focus when the words seem to pound against against his head. his palm sweat and he hates it, he hates seeing the look of anticipation on jimin's face wane away, hates how jimin's face contorts into a different expression once he realizes what's going on, and hates how his own feet drag him back to the door to check again, even if he knows it's locked.
and he can't help it, the fact that his heart races over a stupid thing, beating so fast he can hardly even breathe. he checks the door for a fourth time, and he swears, he swears he's done. no more. they're wasting time— jimin's time—and yoongi feels so fucking bad that jimin has to deal with a guy like him. the intensity of his gaze makes yoongi snap, eyes squeezing shut before flickering them open.
"let's go," he grits out, ignoring the screaming of CHECKTHEDOORCHECKTHEDOORCHECKTHEDOOR in the back of his mind. the older male turns, sweaty hands sliding further into his sleeves to hide the evidence of his anxiety.
yet as yoongi takes a step, it takes him a few seconds for him to realize that jimin isn't following. "jimin?"
a pause.
feet swiveling, yoongi's eyes are greeted with a blank face.
"you only locked the door four times."
the words yell louder. "so?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
jimin blinks. "you always lock it five times, though, hyung."
"i—it's a stupid thing. c'mon, let's just go before they run out of green tea frap and you end up dead," yoongi attempts to joke weakly.
the smaller male looks at him unconvincingly, before turning around, back facing yoongi, as he strolls over to the door, checking the handle for the fifth time. "it's locked," he informs in a matter-of-factly voice, making his way back to yoongi.
it's so fucking stupid how the simple gesture relieves all the stress in his system, instantly calming down his nerves. and yoongi wants you cry, because he feels so fucking pathetic that he's so weak in front of jimin, who's always looked up to him as a strong person.
"you know, hyung, it's not good to hold back." jimin hums out softly, already starting to walk ahead, as the elder trails behind him.
yoongi doesn't say anything. he doesn't need to, either.
they merely walk in comfortable silence, with jimin's hand brushing against yoongi's every now and then until he can finally relax, the angry flush of his cheeks dying down.
it's not until they're in line, quiet chatter surrounded them that yoongi finds his tongue. "thanks."
jimin only smiles wryly.
》》
"if we win the daesang...will you...debut?"
the question catches yoongi off guard, his head lifting up from the computer. namjoon stands at the door of his studio, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.
"i mean it." he mumbles out, lips pursed together. "if we win...you deserve to be recognized for your hard work, hyung."
his mouth goes dry, and he doesn't really know how to react to the younger male's statements.
"are you ready? i don't want to force you, but...hyung, we all really want you to be there on stage with all six of us."
are you ready? yoongi doesn't know. he doesn't understand himself, how is he suppose to decide when he's ready or not. it takes him a few minutes for the words to come, his fingers falling into the habit of steadily tapping against the table.
"it's not like they'll let me join. it's been four years."
namjoon cuts in right after he finishes. "you've participated in every comeback and song, hyung. all you need to do is learn how to dance; we've convinced pd bang to let you stay, to let you work on the albums, and so of course we can convince him to let you back in. besides, we're the cash cows of bighit; we have an upper hand, hyung."
"won't that look sketchy? all of a sudden i join after you guys become successful, and it's like—"
"you're not leeching off of us and we'll clarify that." he says rather seriously, lips pressed together in a terse expression. "yoongi, you've worked harder than any of us, and—and i just. you deserve to perform on stage, and shine." he mumbles, growing quieter with every word.
yoongi's head tilts to the side, surveying him closely. though the offer does sound enticing, he isn't quite sure if he can pull through with it. it's difficult enough approaching strangers; to stand in front of millions sends his head spinning.
the younger male takes a step forward, timidly. his teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping at the chapped skin as hands fiddle with the edge of his sweater. "you won't be alone, you'll have us, like always. and. and if you ever feel like it's too much, we. we got you, hyung. if anything, you can be like sia and wear a wig, or like, be the next zion.t with oversized shades," he rambles nervously, shuffling around in a single spot.
and yoongi really does want to say yes, but he doubts himself and, oh , the what ifs come rushing to his mind and he really, really, doesn't want to think about all the negative scenarios, but he can't help it. what if he forgets his lines, what if he misses a step, what if the fans don't like him, what if he doesn't perform well, what if—
"i miss rapping next to you."
yoongi blinks.
"rapping with hoseok and taehyung is fun, but...hyung, it's not the same without you."
he won't ever understand how people see namjoon as a hot and aggressive person that can manhandle someone and bend them over, because namjoon is like a soft puppy more than anything. the way his head hands as his eyes avert to the floor, fingering the edge of his wool sweater in such a shy manner, the hopefulness gleaming in those brown orbs—yoongi can't help it, he really can't.
"i'll think about it."
》》
jeongguk somehow sneaks into yoongi's bed at night, and somehow snakes his arms around the older male's lithe frame. it's only been a year since they've—bangtan—debuted, and yet he's already starting to grow taller than yoongi. it's surreal, and he can't help but laugh as his hand buries into jeongguk's hair, running through the reddish strands. "you're heavy," he grumbles playfully, lips quirked into a small smile.
"m'so tired, m'gonna lay here," jeongguk breathes out, face burying into yoongi's chest. yoongi snakes an arm around his waist, patting it gently with a low hum.
"how was practice?"
"exhausting. we're going to have a comeback soon, and hoseok hyung was teaching us the new choreo—terrible. you should've seen seokjin hyung! he looked like we wanted to cry five minutes in," jeongguk pauses eliciting a small giggle. "but just one day is a little easier, 'cause there's chair-sitting.." he continues on, chatting to yoongi about his day.
it happens every once in awhile, when jeongguk is so tired of the idol life and everything around him that he drags himself over to yoongi, who's like a breath of fresh air in the industry. he'll clamber into yoongi's laps, gangly arms hanging outside, or he'll nuzzle his face into yoongi's shoulder and bask in the warmth. yoongi doesn't mind, letting him do so; jeongguk, is after all, a child at heart, no matter how adult he thinks of himself as.
they talk for an hour or two, until jeongguk starts to feel sleepy and becomes too comfortable to move from the comforting spot on yoongi's bed. namjoon will peek in to check-up in his roommate, before flashing yoongi a solid grin with a "good luck dealing with him". hoseok blows him a kiss, to which yoongi will roll his eyes at (and yet, return the gesture with twice the cheese), and seokjin will only cast the two of them a fond look. a pleasant quietness settles upon them, with yoongi stroking jeongguk's broad back, soft gaze resting on his face.
"hyung?"
"hm?"
jeongguk's eyes flicker open, head tilted slightly to glance up at the older male. "why do you always keep things to yourself? you know you can just...be you, right?"
and the answer is easy. i'm scared. "i'm just a reserved person, that's all."
rosy couplets quirk together into a small frown. "that's not what i mean. hyung, i know you've been trying to control your ocd and the little repetitions you do."
the palm against jeongguk's back goes rigid, eyes diverging elsewhere.
"i think that only makes it worse," he says seriously, eyes wider than ever. "s'okay if you need to do your routines and repetitions, hyung, if it makes you feel better. i don't think it's bothersome if it helps you, cause that's what we all really want."
"i'm oka—"
"and you always say you're okay, when you're clearly not, and that kind of concerns me too, hyung," jeongguk informs him, cheeks puffed. "it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but you can always come to me if something's bothering you, yoongi. you'd tell the same thing to me, so it'd be nice if you could listen to your own words, too."
gentle hands cup his cheeks, and turns his head gently to look at jeongguk. a sunny smile graces his faces, exhaling slowly.
"i just want you to be happy, hyung."
》》
there's the moment when the world seems to freeze and everything seems to spin. yoongi experiences that moment when he sits in the bangtan dressing room in hong kong, watching the live stream on the couch.
"...bangtan sonyeondan, congratulations!"
yoongi watches from the cameras, behind the curtains and underneath the stage, as the six boys make their way to the stage, eyes widen and limbs shaking. he watches as the three youngest try to keep their cool, the tears that threaten to spill out from years of hard work, as seokjin maintains the smile that doesn't quite match the sense of relief in his eyes, as namjoon stares blankly into the crowd, as hoseok beams, brighter than ever.
he watches as namjoon struggles with his words, because he knows that although namjoon had longed to win the daesang, he never wrote a speech for it, never expected it, never wanted to raise his hopes up only to be met with disappointment.
("then why'd you ask me?"
"because i wanted motivation to do even better. because if we try hard enough, we'll win not only the award, but you too, hyung.")
"army," he begins, and yoongi smiles wryly, because how typical of kim namjoon. "thank you so much, really. from debut, there were many people who thought we couldn't do it and said it wouldn't happen.
there's a montage of flashbacks that play through yoongi's mind as he talks.
"you won't make it, you don't come from the big three."
"you don't even have enough money to buy food for yourself."
"you want to be an idol? you're so fucking materialistic, what happened to embracing your roots?"
"namjoon, do you think this is going to work out?"
"even if we only have three people listening, as long as someone appreciates our efforts, i'm okay with it."
"you have a handicapped member? if you get any fans, it'll probably be out of pity."
"do you really think you can be an idol? have you seen your mental health records? i'm surprised you even got signed in, much less debuted."
"...but thank you for believing in us right till the end."
"hyung, you'll be fine."
"look! look at how many people are following us on twitter!"
"hyung, hyung, a girl asked for my autograph! can you believe it? i'm famous!"
"we're flying to america. america, wow!"
"...this was something we only dreamed of, but thank you for making it come true."
"it's fucking frustrating, i'm so tired and—i really thought we'd make an impact with this comeback."
"that's what you thought when you first debuted, didn't you? and look, you did make an impact."
"bang shi-hyuk and bighit, who always lead us, P-dogg, slow rabbit and Supreme boy who make us great music, and along with our teaching sungdek, sunghyun hyung, all our staff who always stay by our sides, we are so grateful towards you. i would also like to mention suga, who blends in with the night sky but makes us shine brighter than all the other constellations."
"do you even think we're like stars?"
"what do you mean?"
"like, we're all stars that make up a constellation—bangtan. and there's other constellations, too, other groups, and then the gravity is kind of like the fans that keeps us up and together. and you...you're like an invisible force that's there, hidden, but we can't be complete without."
"thank you for making our dreams come true. and armys all over the world, let's fly with our beautiful wings in 2017 as well. bts loves army as always, thank you very much."
and seeing them all cry, the slightest tears that slide down seokjin and jimin and taehyung's faces, the river that runs down jeongguk's face, the unsteadiness in namjoon's voice—god, yoongi himself can't help but shake along, the thought of coming so far after going through so much.
"thank you we really love you a lot. we hope our music and performances could be the hope for many people around the world."
"yoongi, just because you have ocd and anxiety, it can't stop you from speaking out about your love for music. who knows, maybe it'll inspire other people like you to live out their dreams, too."
"we will work really hard, thank you. thank you."
and people may wonder why there's a boy in gray sweats and black hoodie running through the halls of an elite award show, why a boy who's repeatedly rubbing his eyes with his sleeves and muffling his sobs heading straight backstage. security guards question, and he just cries, he cries and he's breathing so hard that he can't seem to focus. it's peculiar, a boy who looks so out of place, fingers tapping hard against his thighs in some strange pattern of fives.
a few minutes is all it takes before yoongi's blurry vision is met with six figures, and he melts at the sight of a mix of their laughs and cries. hoseok stops at the sight of yoongi, before he speeds his pace, arms sliding around yoongi's waist on contact and face burying into his neck. "stop crying, it makes me want to kiss them all away, want to kiss you right now, so bad, i want—"
his words are cut off by a rough shove from taehyung, who greedily wrap his arms around yoongi's thin frame; jimin wraps around the two of them, and it's not long until the other members build on top of each other. in min yoongi's twenty three years of life, he's never felt so happy up until now, surrounded by six boys that press their tears into his jacket and laugh loudly in his ears.
"will you do it?" comes seokjin's soft whisper by his ear, and yoongi's smile fades away. the giggles die down, until there's six pairs of eyes gazing at him in a yearning manner. the daesang trophy is forgotten now, hanging limply by namjoon's side.
a hand steadily taps at his thighs, and yoongi glances down momentarily to see jeongguk's fingers resting against in. one, two, three, four, five—pause. one, two, three, four, five—pause.
his heart pounds, and he swallows hard, lips moving mechanically. "i—" he mumbles out, voice surprisingly soft, void of its usual dryness and hesitancy. it's odd, but it only takes a few blinks to realize why.
"i've figured out why i'm not as punctual as usual with the meds."
"why?"
"because i don't need them when i'm around all of you."
in a small voice, yoongi answers: "okay."
Hello, this is BigHit Entertainment. After four years, we will finally add in the last member of BTS: Suga. This is a consensual agreement between BTS and Suga, approved by the company. Starting January 1st, all of BTS' S promotions will include Suga. Thank you, and we hope that you continue to love and support BTS.
》》
hello, i'm min yoongi. you might also know me as suga, or agust d, as i released my mixtape anonymously in late august. i was initially bts' second member, and i was prepared to be a member of the group.
a few months prior to our debut, i had gone through an unfortunate incident, and it prevented me from debuting. yet it didn't stop me from making music; if you hear our albums, the studio version features me. i understand that it's a complicated arrangement—why would you want want to be an idol yet not participate in idol activities?
the rest of bangtan and i have a strong bond. we're almost inseparable, if you look at it, and we've all gone through so much things together than it doesn't feel right for me to leave. we've always been one, and even when i couldn't be active as an idol due to my ocd and anxiety, they've stuck by me; likewise, i've done the same.
the reason why i didn't debut until now, or show my face or my name or my identity was due to bangtan. watching them go up and receive the bangtan, after knowing and feeling all of their pain, gave me the strength and courage to do this. i, too, want to stand by their side, and support them both in the shadows and in person.
i know that i'm lacking in many aspects, but i will continue to try my hardest to make music that everyone can enjoy. thank you.
》》
the backlash is expected. there's people accusing of him of jumping on bts's success, pointing out that he didn't suffer like the rest of bts. others call him a coward, a fake, and a plethora of other ridiculing names. there's even fans declaring their loss of support for bts, others boycotting bighit and blaming the entertainment company for "squeezing in a spare trainee", and some fans who only declare "OT6 STAN ONLY".
yoongi doesn't like to think about what other people think, but he can't help scrolling at the comments. the more he reads, the more nauseous he feels, the tapping on his thighs becoming more and more erratic.
ocd???? an illness?? lol thats the dumbest exus—
"no social media for three days." comes a lithe voice, and a whine bubbles in yoongi's throat as seokjin plucks his phone out of his hand for a few days.
"h y u n g —"
"don't complain, you're just going to keep on staring at it and feel like shit and lock yourself up again," seokjin gives him a pointed look, tucking the phone into his pocket. "jeongguk's asking for you, by the way. he wants some help with a christmas track."
yoongi sulks momentarily, nonetheless dragging himself up and towards the door. "i hate how you know me so well."
"it's for your own sake, dummy," the elder singsongs, striding away.
》》
yoongi ends up sneaking online after two days.
it's different this time.
there's supportive comments flooding the twitter, along with hashtags of #stantalentstanbts #protectsugaclub #btssuga. yoongi's fingers flick over to their bts twitter account, eyes widening as he scrolls to the last post he saw before his little ban, and then going upwards from there.
it starts off with a selfie, a simple picture of him and namjoon during no more dream.
and then it's a video of him and seokjin, trying to dance to boy in luv.
bangtan complained about him never having to suffer the drastic pain of hair dye, so he dyed his hair with them during danger. it's a selfie of him and jimin scrunching their faces at each other.
then there's the picture of him sitting on top of jeongguk's shoulders during war of hormone.
his miraculously pink hair (courtesy of a dare by namjoon) and taehyung's boxy smile from i need u.
...which, faded into blonde. it's another video, of the time he went on a date and hoseok decided to record him because he looked "adorable".
supportive messages from the member keep on coming, along with selfies of him in different eras of bangtan. it soon turns into just photos of him; jimin posts candids, taehyung and jeongguk post derps, namjoon posts pictures of him working in the studio, seokjin posts random videos of yoongi, and hoseok....posts up smiles. yoongi's smiles.
the final post is a picture of all seven of them; bts in their performance outfits, lifting up yoongi in his stupid gray sweats and black hoodie. it's the day of mama, the day when they won the daesang, and yoongi whispered "okay".
the caption is simple, but the amounts of retweets and hearts are surprisingly overwhelming.
we're finally complete.