time to post my slightly editted, hopefully improved nugu-seyo fic
Title: Trouble In Paradise
Fandom: BTS/Bangtan Boys/Bulletproof Boyscouts/Whatever they call themselves
Pairing(s): Jin/Rap Monster
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Swearing, implied sex
Summary: Bangtan have to do a cute concept, which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds
15,763 words
Written for the 2013 nugu-seyo fic exchange
Also on AO3
~
Hobeom is pointedly refusing to meet Namjoon’s gaze as he runs through the schedule for the looming comeback that they’ll be putting up with in ‘t minus six’ weeks. His desk is strewn with a somewhat eccentric assortment of schedules, bank statements and collectable figurines that he tries to hide behind as he hands over a proposed timescale of work that needs to be done before Bangtan Sonyeondan can get back on the stage.
The top page is the usual list of salon appointments and new dietary regulations (far too much celery for Namjoon’s liking) followed by a summation of seemingly every music show they could possibly get themselves onto. At the bottom of the page the words ‘Running Man’ have been highlighted, triple underlined and decorated with stars, Namjoon’s eyes flick up to Hobeom’s and he makes a face.
“I don’t really think we’re Running Man material yet hyeong,” Hobeom scowls and busies himself rummaging through one of his endless series of drawers.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to count your chickens before they hatch? Where did I put that…ahh ha! Tell me what you make of that” He pulls a piece of paper out from underneath a tower of ring binders and brandishes it at Namjoon who barely looks at it long enough to understand that it contains song lyrics before throwing it back at Hobeom.
“Glam really aren’t going to take much more of this cutesy shit hyeong, you should just let Jiyeon write for them she knows what she’s doing,”
Hobeom’s mouth twitches awkwardly and he becomes very very interested in his pen, “this isn’t a Glam song Namjoon.”
Namjoon frowns, “we have new meat coming through? I thought you said we wouldn’t have any new trainees ready to go for the next two years.”
“No they’re not for a new group,”
“Are you bringing 2AM out again? They only just stopped promoting?”
“No, not-“
“Then you’re putting David back out there?” there’s panic in Namjoon’s eyes growing more potent with every moment that Hobeom stays silent, when he finally receives an apologetic shake of the head, a whimper of something that sounds like terror escapes him. He grabs the sheet of lyrics off the desk and begins to read through more thoroughly, the sound of his hyperventilation filling the tiny office.
“Namjoon,” Hobeom reaches forward to try to remove the paper from his hands but his hand is slapped away.
“Tell me there’s some kind of sick beat to counterpoint all this hand-holding pastel pink bullshit hyeong please,”
Hobeom sighs and throws up his hands in despair, “I’m sorry Namjoon,”
Five minutes later, the lyrics have been reduced to a wet mush in Hobeom’s bin.
~
“Apparently we haven’t been selling very well,” Namjoon announces to the assembled ranks of Bangtan. Three years after debut and they’ve only just been moved into a bigger apartment. He can’t deny that he likes the extra space even if having enough couche space that they can all sit down at once still freaks him out somewhat.
“What are you talking about? Of course we sell well, we won rookie awards and shit,” says Jungkook, his unfairly long legs draped over Taehyung and Hoseok. “No one gets a rookie award without selling a few albums,”
“And just how many awards did we win last year?” Namjoon counters. The room is silent.
“We’ll do better this year,” sighs Hoseok, Yoongi nods along.
“Yeah I thought you said you had new stuff for us, you played me that track you were working on last week. It sounded good.” He sees Namjoon’s face twist into an awkward combination of rage and exasperation. “What?”
“The company…ah…we’re not going to be using my songs for the next comeback.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
“The fuck do you mean we’re not using your songs?” Jungkook manages to whack Jimin in the face with his foot as he stands to unheeded cries of anguish, “who the fuck else is gonna write for us?”
“Yeah this is some bullshit Namjoon what the fuck?” Yoongi tries in vain to stand shoulder to shoulder with the now oversized maknae and Namjoon resists the urge push him off his tiptoes.
“Do you have to use that kind of language?” Seokjin pushes the pair of them back; then rounds on Namjoon to get the full story.
“Hobeom hyeong says that we’re going to be trying a new,” deep breath, “we’re going to be trying a new direction this time round,” he reaches into his bag to pull out a stack of lyrics, “this is going to be our title song,” his voice is as even as he can manage as he hands them out to his bandmates.
The room is silent for all of two seconds.
Hoseok gets through them first, “well it certainly is different,” he says carefully, his ever present smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“If by ‘different’ you mean ‘a crock of horse shit’ then yeah I’m gonna have to agree with you,” Yoongi throws the offending piece of paper back at Namjoon, “are they fucking serious?”
Namjoon suddenly understands why it was so hard for Hobeom to meet his eyes, “well-“
“Oh my god they can’t be serious,” Taehyung whispers to his lyrics sheet as Jungkook begins to systematically tear his to pieces.
“It’s not that bad,” says Jimin brightly and there’s a collective groan from the other six in anticipation of the weeks of failed aegyo they’ll be putting up with as they promote, “No but really, we only have to say eotteokhae three times, that’s gotta be half the usual fare for an cute track,”
“An entire cute concept,” Yoongi amends as Jungkook silently crushes the paper fragments under his foot, “How are me, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook all supposed to get verses in if we’re supposed to be wooing virginal teenagers?”
The eye roll he receives from Seokjin is nothing short of spectacular, “Please, as if we were ever doing anything else.”
“What do you mean?” Taehyung looks confused. Everyone does. Seokjin looks around the room like he thinks the others might be slightly dense.
“We’re idols,” he says slowly, “That means we’re here to look pretty. The ‘message of the music’ is neither here nor there.”
“The hell it isn’t,”
“Hyeong sit down,” Namjoon lays a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. He recieves a sarcastic huff in response,
“No, I don’t think I will! Look,” he raises a finger and aims it squarely at Seokjin’s face, “I know that you’re not exactly well versed in hiphop, try as we might, but believe it or not we,” he gestures to the rapper line, “write about shit that matters.”
“You can write about whatever you please, it’s not going to mean anyone’s listening."
“Says who?”
“Our last album sales apparently.” Seokjin stands and tucks his lyrics sheet into his back pocket, “maybe the hiphop era’s over, with half of Big Bang in the army I think we can forgive the public for moving on.”
Yoongi looks about ready to start throwing punches and Jungkook’s eyes have gone a terrifying shade of apathetic. Seokjin exits stage right to the kitchen and starts pointedly banging pans together to drown out Yoongi’s tirade of expletives.
“Well you can’t blame him for wanting to put a positive spin on things,” Namjoon snaps as the rest of the group begin to dissipate. Yoongi glares back at him,
“How is him saying that a cutie boy concept is no different from what we’ve been doing up till now a ‘positive spin on things’? And you can’t blame me for calling this,” he snatches the stack of lyrics out of Namjoon’s hand and shoves it in his face, “a joke.”
Namjoon considers following him as he leaves, but Yoongi makes for the front door and by the time it’s swung closed, the house is silent but for the soft clink of Seokjin resting his pan of choice on the stove.
“He’s not angry with you, he’s just….he’s angry,” Namjoon calls to the sound of onions being sliced,
“Aren’t we all?” Seokjin replies and Namjoon’s inclined to agree with him.
~
Bigger dorm or not, the practice room will never be big enough to accommodate seven men and their combined sweat after three hours dancing. As usual, Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook collapse next to each other for water breaks so that they can commiserate over the deplorable state of their colleagues’ footwork in peace. It used to piss Namjoon off back when they first debuted, he felt bad enough as a dancerwhen it came to dancing without the constant reminders that if all of that was left to the dance line then everyone would have been in bed hours ago; but after countless nights spent trying to talk new trainees through the basics of a mixing desk, he hardly feels able to begrudge them the chance to vent.
Taehyung’s head lolls onto his shoulder and Namjoon has had just enough of this ridiculous cutesy dance for one day.
“Right! One more time guys, from the top!” Seongdeuk calls. He sounds far too happy for two o’clock in the morning and the hostility that the room at large holds towards him is palpable.
“I swear if I have to do that stupid fucking ‘omo’ thing one more time,” Yoongi mutters and Namjoon can sympathise.
“So I was thinking, you know that bit where Hoseok and Taehyung are supposed to spin Seokjin away from the girl and he moves back into formation with everyone else?”
“You mean that bit I always mess up?” Seokjin asks glumly.
“Yeah!” Seongdeuk beams at him like he’s done something particularly impressive and Jungkook’s eyes roll, “Yeah I was thinking we’d change that bit.”
Seokjin perks up.
“I was thinking we’d have you crash into Taehyung on purpose this time!” Seongdeuk grins.
“But why?” Seokjin’s confused expression speaks for them all.
Hobeom shrugs from the corner, “It’s cute. It fits the concept,”
“So, not being able to dance is cute?”
“No, Jimin, it just…it sort of-”
“It makes him look all giddy and in love,” Hoseok cuts across Seongdeuk, “hyeong’s right, it will look cute.”
“Would it look cute if I did it?”
“No Jimin, absolutely not.”
Of course, once he’s actually trying to knock Taehyung over, it takes Seokjin four tries to get it right. But by the time they’ve worked his clumsiness into their regular routine Seongdeuk would have them believe that Seokjin is some sort of accidental genius.
“That’s perfect!” he chortles as Seokjin steps the wrong way on the opening line of the third chorus and narrowly avoids getting hit by a flailing Hoseokian limb, “Yeah we’ll keep that.”
In the end they just seem to keep it all. The choreography concept switches from ‘clean cut men trying to get a girl’s attention’ to ‘the hilarious tale of how Kim Seokjin is awkward as fuck’.
Which is funny, Namjoon thinks, because out of all of them Seokjin is the least awkward with girls, but somehow his stumbles and trips make it look like he can fall head over heels in love (literally) in three seconds flat and that Park Jimin is the one whose slick moves allow him to keep it together.
“And again! One more time guys I promise you can go to bed after this,” Seongdeuk calls and they groan their way into starting position. Seokjin stumbles through his now all too deliberate mistakes as the rest of them do all that they can to stay in time with each other. With his attention half focused on the sweat-steamed mirror Namjoon thinks that they’re doing ok, he’s gotten better at spotting the steps that need more work since the early days when he was all but passive in dance rehearsals. It’s hard work staying on top of their dancing along with everything else but he’s come to appreciate that it’s just one of many qualities of a good leader.
“Namjoon no!” Seongdeuk stops them half way through, “Pay attention please! How many times do I have to tell you that it’s three beats before you peel off for the bridge? Sorry guys, you can go once you get this right.”
And really, Namjoon’s learned to ignore the angry looks he gets when he fucks up the routine for the umpteenth time, but there’s an irritation that settles in his stomach which he can’t quite place until they finally (three attempts later) get to leave the practice room and head home.
“I thought we’d never get to leave,” mumbles Seokjin, pulling his scarf further around his face. Ordinarily the walk home from the dance studio is one of shared commiseration over the split responsibility for extended dance rehearsals, but Namjoon knows that this time he’s left alone on the other side of the ‘can’t dance’ line. Seokjin’s eyes go wide when he realises what he’s said and his attempts to backpedal would probably be funny if they weren’t so heartfelt.
“Oh, um, Namjoon you know I didn’t mean-“
“It’s fine,” Namjoon sighs and he and Seokjin descend into an awkward silence that’s only broken when Jimin cuts between them hotly pursued by Yoongi whose hat, it transpires, has mysteriously vanished from his head.
There’s a minute’s chase during which Jimin tries desperately to pass the hat onto someone else to no avail and they all laugh themselves hoarse watching Yoongi getting steadily more out of breath as he tries to keep up with him. Eventually, Jimin gives up and throws the hat in Seokjin’s direction, only to watch it pass through his fingers and into a puddle. Suddenly the frown on Yoongi’s face isn’t so funny.
“Why’d you have to throw it to King Clumsy?” he growls, picking the beanie out of the puddle with cautious fingers and making a face when brown water drips slowly back to the street.
It’s not a big thing, it’s never a big thing, but Namjoon sees Seokjin flinch when Yoongi’s not looking. Yoongi won’t blame him; he’d never blame him because this is Jimin’s fault because Jimin was the one who threw the hat to Seokjin in the first place. He should have known not to hold any faith in his coordination skills and really Seokjin SHOULD be happy because Yoongi’s a dick when he’s angry and Seokjin, well…
Seokjin never had to try very hard to keep up appearances. He’s soft, gentle and submissive, and while it’s nice to have someone who can swallow the prescribed idol bullshit without gagging, looking after him can be a fulltime job. If he gets angry, he does it through pointed silence and sarcasm that he can never follow up on, but he’s not very good at pretending that he’s not more upset than the other person. Yoongi stalks off muttering to himself, he’ll probably be in a bad mood for hours just to prove a point, and Seokjin’s gaze falls to the floor.
“Hyeong-“
“It’s fine Namjoon,” he sighs, his steps quickening as he adopts a brusque march back to the dorms.
Namjoon follows after him, a step behind all the way home.
~
It’s not like Namjoon’s never worn a button up shirt before, he likes them, he owns several completely independently of Big Hit, and yet…
“I don’t like it,” he tells his stylist for the day, “like really, REALLY don’t like it,”
All the sympathy he receives is a disapproving glare and heartfelt sigh, the stylist-hyeong moves over to Jimin, mumbling something about unappreciative teenagers, “I’m twenty two,” Namjoon snaps before he can stop himself, and then he sort of wishes he could crawl into a hole and die because the last thing anyone wants to do is piss off the stylists.
Still, it can’t get much worse than heart shaped cufflinks.
Next to him, Jimin preens at his dolled up reflection. The makeup nunas are trying a different approach this time, something involving a lot more eye shadow than previous comebacks. Honestly, Jimin’s short enough that he can kind of pull off the pastel Tweedle-dum thing they’ve got going on with him, and the pink of his suspenders goes surprisingly well against the pale green of his shirt. Jimin doesn’t even mind, he makes ‘aegyo’ faces at himself in the mirror, seemingly oblivious to the curling of Taehyung’s lips next to him but it makes Namjoon think that maybe, just maybe, there’s enough natural talent for the cutie-boy concept in the group for them to not fuck it up completely.
Tweedle-dee on the other hand, begs to differ.
“No, nonononono, nope, not going in there, not happening, Jung Hoseok you better let go of me right the fuck now!”
“Language!” Hobeom barks in the general direction of Yoongi’s protests, “You boys are clean cut for this album, I don’t want to hear any more effing and blinding till you step off your last farewell stage,”
The string of expletives that Yoongi unleashes on their manager is Oscar worthy, and serves the added benefit of getting Yoongi into the room. His knee high socks (green to match his suspenders and Jimin’s shirt) have fallen down to meet his pink and white two-tones and the fact that his unstyled hair (platinum blonde for this comeback) flops into his eyes and prevents him from seeing anything properly all counts against him in terms of intimidation factor and Hobeom doesn’t have to try very hard to get a few good whacks in with the magazine he’s reading.
Defeated, Yoongi crashes into the makeup chair next to Namjoon and proceeds to make things as hard as possible for the stylists trying to fuss over him.
“You remember back when we debuted and I had to wear that maid’s outfit? You remember when I said that hiphop was dead? Well clearly I lied, there must have been something left to kill if this is any indication,” he gestures to the green glittery mess approaching his eyelids with a resigned sag to his soldiers, “Block B never had to put up with this shit.”
“Sure they did, just because it was Jiho hyeong making them wear it doesn’t mean they didn’t spend 2013 wearing more lipstick than So Nyeo Shi Dae,” Jungkook leans over Namjoon’s shoulder to examine his reflection and grimaces. They’ve got him in baby blue which is probably designed to make him look like a kid, but given how kind 2014 was to him hormone-wise he’s way too tall to give the look any credence, “eurgh, this blush is way too heavy,”
“Nooo, don’t be silly! That blush is perfect it makes you look so cute!” Yoongi’s makeup nuna coos. Namjoon feels it might be prudent to advise that she shut up before she gets her ass kicked, but at that moment Seokjin returns from the photo shoot and he gets called off to follow suit.
The photographer’s computer screens are filled with pictures of Kim Seokjin looking for all the world like the fairytale prince he’s supposed to be portraying. He’s still forced into a pair of shorts, but the defining element of his outfit is the butter-yellow tail coat, chosen so that it brings out the blonde highlights in his hair and, in Namjoon’s humble opinion, the least embarrassing article of clothing in the current Bangtan wardrobe.
The photographer hops over to him, nodding appreciatively when he sees Namjoon looking at the photos, “We’re just going, like, full on fairytale for this one,” he says seriously, “like, just imagine you’re, like, in Narnia or something,”
Namjoon nods distractedly as his eyes wander between the photos. They’ve got Seokjin hugging weird cuddly mythical creatures and anthropomorphic plants whilst posing with cutesy tea sets and artistically aged books. He looks enviably natural, but to be honest it’s all the kind of stuff that he can imagine Seokjin doing anyway. Namjoon can wink for the camera and pull dumb faces on cue, but it’s not like he’s going to be winning any ‘Model of the Year’ awards anytime soon.
“You ready?” asks the photographer. Namjoon nods and makes towards the set, but something catches his eye. The girl behind the computer has just pulled up a fresh round of photos, the first of which features a delightfully candid close up of Seokjin’s face, He’s laughing, his lips drawn back into his most genuine smile that he only really uses when he’s laughing at himself. The lights hit his face too hard and the line of his jaw blends into the white background, but it’s striking.
It looks too true to life, too perfectly exemplary of Kim Seokjin to be taken by accident, but the photographer leans over the girl’s shoulder and makes a face, “Eugh, no, get rid of it,”
“Wait!” Namjoon moves towards the screen but the image has already gone, vanished in a puff of data. The photographer gives him a questioning look.
“It just…it looked like him, like what he really looks like, ya know?”
Clearly the photographer doesn’t. He takes five seconds to stare at Namjoon like he’s a crazy person and then ushers him over to a pile of obnoxiously oversized cuddly toys.
“Smile!” he coos and Namjoon is only too relieved when the final product of his endeavours manages to not look nearly as fake as it felt.
There’s a low level grumble that plays soundtrack to the ride home. Yoongi has purposefully rubbed his makeup into giant pink and black spirals that make him look like an accident in a cosmetics factory that only gets worse when Taehyung starts using his own lilac eye shadow as finger paint for his arms.
Seokjin pulls a face, “You’re not allowed second shower looking like that Yoongi,”
“Says who?”
“Says the frankly ridiculous amount of makeup you’re covered in right now, you’re going to use up all the hot water.”
“So what if I do?” Yoongi’s mouth curls into an unpleasant sneer and he reaches forward to try to scrape some of the glitter from Seokjin’s cheek. His hand is slapped away before it reaches his goal and he lets out a bark of sarcastic laughter.
“C’mon, you’ve got this cute thing down to pat, share a little of that know how Jinnie.” Namjoon doesn’t like Yoongi’s tone at all, there’s enough open hostility in it to stop Seokjin in his tracks, trying to save face by maintaining eye contact.
When the silence starts to get awkward and Jungkook’s giggles start to break free, he cuts in, “That’s ‘hyeong’ to you,” and Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“I was just having a bit of fun Namjoon, jeez,”
“Well don’t,” he snaps, and they spend the rest of the journey sitting in silence.
~
The new dorm has two rooms, and no bunk beds, and everyone agrees that this is a much welcome luxury. The original plan had been hyeongs in the triple, dongsaengs in the quad but it’s no secret that Hoseok likes the younger members most and they hadn’t been moved in a week before he'd asked to swap with Namjoon. It’s a mercy being away from Jungkook’s snores and Taehyung’s erratic sleeping habits, but there are different downsides to rooming with Yoongi.
“Thanks guys, I owe you one,” he says from behind his shit eating grin. The door to their bedroom closes and Namjoon and Seokjin are left on the couch for the night.
Seokjin sighs and collapses onto the sofa, “Why can’t he just use a love motel like everyone else?”
“Some kind of alpha male need to prove that he gets laid on the regular? I don’t know man we’ve all brought someone back here before,”
“Yes but Yoongi definitely holds the record for most awkward timing.”
“What about that time Jungkook brought a girl back when Hoseok hyeong’s parents were visiting?” Namjoon counters, going to sit next to Seokjin, “Need I remind you of how quickly we had to get them out of the house?”
“Yes well at least Jungkook never had to go to hospital because he tripped over his own underwear and hit his head on the nightstand,”
Namjoon is indignant, “that was one time! You can’t-” Seokjin breaks into a peel of muffled giggles that he can’t hide behind his hand, “Hyeong don’t laugh I got concussion!”
Seokjin beams at him fondly and makes to ruffle his hair, “And we all took care of you very well,”
“Taehyung wrote a song about it featuring the line ‘such an idiot will never be seen again in my time’ and kept humming it during interviews,” Namjoon shoves Seokjin’s shoulder and he keels over onto the couch, “C’mon, let’s watch a film or something,”
Seokjin makes a face, “Shouldn’t we try to get some sleep?”
“Well considering that they only just got home I’d say Yoongi and his gentleman caller have at least an hour to go before they stop doing whatever it is that they do and I really don’t want things to get quiet enough for me to have to hear them,”
“Eurgh,” Seokjin shudders, “Ok, yeah film, what’s it gonna be?”
Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows, “Do I even need to say?” Seokjin beams at him.
Halfway through the first Pokémon movie, Mewtwo has failed to capture Pikachu, and Namjoon and Seokjin are crashed out on the couch.
Seokjin’s head shifts under Namjoon’s chin, bringing him sharply out of his decline towards sleep. He’s not the most touchy-feely person, but it’s hard to care when they’re both so tired. Seokjin’s arm lies across his stomach, head resting on his chest and Namjoon’s own arm is wrapped tight around his shoulders. Namjoon doesn’t do this with anyone very often, skinship really isn’t his thing, but he has to admit that the deadweight of Seokjin’s body is comforting and satisfyingly warm in the early morning air.
“Namjoonie?” Seokjin mumbles into his chest.
“I thought I told you not to call me that,”
“But it’s so cuuuuuuuute,”
“Yeah that’s the problem,”
Seokjin sits up and looks Namjoon in the eyes. He’s freakishly good at holding a person’s gaze and within seconds Namjoon feels decidedly uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Do you think I’m cute?” asks Seokjin, deadly serious.
“What- like girl cute?”
“Girl cute, boy cute, whate-”
“I’m not Yoongi, man if you’re trying to get laid you need to ask someone else,”
“I’m not asking if you want to fuck me, I’m asking if you think I’m cute,”
Namjoon tries to hold Seokjin’s unwavering gaze but quickly decides that the battle between cloned and non cloned Pokémon is more interesting, “you mean like at the photo shoot?”
“Yes, at the photo shoot, whatever, do you think I’m cute?”
“I guess…”
“Do you like it?”
Namjoon blinks dumbly at the TV, “are you really sure you’re not trying to get laid?”
“No! No I just…” Seokjin sighs and settles back on the couch, “You guys always talk about being cute like it’s a bad thing, and then everyone tells me I’m cute.”
“They tell Jungkook he’s cute too,” replies Namjoon, Seokjin rolls his eyes.
“That’s because they don’t know Jungkook,”
The sound of Mewtwo’s battle with Mew fills the room as an awkward silence descends between the two of them.
“You’re good at it,” Namjoon mumbles, “You can be cute and it doesn’t look dumb. When I do it it’s dumb, when Jimin does it it’s really dumb, when you do it it’s ok. It’s good.”
The silence stretches on, and Ash declares Mewtwo’s plan insane. Seokjin creeps up behind him.
“Who says you’re not good at being cute?” he says, resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“Gahh, hyeong get off,” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders pathetically and feigns annoyance but Seokjin just laughs.
“No way kiddo,”
“But it’s bed time!”
“The film’s still going,”
“I don’t care, Yoongi and what’s-his-face finished up twenty minutes ago and we have to be in dance rehearsals in….six hours,”
Seokjin sighs, wraps an arm around Namjoon’s waist and pulls them both down onto the sofa. Namjoon yelps loudly.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of me I’m sleeping on the other couch,”
“No you’re not,”
“You better let me go o-“
“It’s cold, it’s late, I’m not letting you go, deal with it,” mutters Seokjin, his breath skittering across the back of Namjoon’s neck.
“But-“
“No buts,” Seokjin tightens his arm around Namjoon’s waist and all the fight leaves his body. On the TV, Ash is revived by the tears of the Pokémon who love him so and behind him Seokjin’s breathing evens.
He’ll move, in a moment, when he’s sure Seokjin is asleep.
Namjoon yawns and blinks at the screen. Seokjin’s body heat is comforting, the slight rise and fall of his chest mesmerising. His eyes fall closed and he tries really, really hard not to fall asleep.
Namjoon’s eyes open to find the living room lit by pale morning sunlight and Taehyung standing over him grinning like an idiot.
“What?” he mumbles.
In answer, Taehyung raises his hands and forms a heart which he proceeds to grin through pointedly. It takes Namjoon longer than it should do to work it out, but Seokjin’s legs twitch against his own and all of a sudden he’s very wide awake, vaulting off the couch before any of the others can see the pair of them spooning.
He looks at the clock on the DVD player and groans.
“Shit it’s late,” Seokjin grumbles from the couch as Yoongi enters from the kitchen carrying rice for each of them.
“You guys have a good time last night?” he wiggles his eyebrows as he sets the food down on the floor.
“Oh fuck off it was cold,” Namjoon sulks.
“Yeah that’s what they all say,”
“You didn’t actually have sex on the couch did you?” Jimin shouts from the bathroom, “Because that would be really gross,”
“We didn’t have sex!” groans Namjoon. “I swear the next time I catch Hoseok and Taehyung spooning I will be posting photographic evidence to the fancafe,”
Taehyung shrugs and plops himself down next to Yoongi, “no one cares anymore hyeong, they’ve seen it all before,”
“Besides, the picture I posted of the two of you has caused more of a stir than anything ‘VHope’ have ever done."
Namjoon blinks at him dumbly for a few seconds, and by the time he’s come to his senses Seokjin has found his phone and is already whining about the photo. It’s worse than expected, his hand dangerously close to Seokjin’s and their legs perfectly in line,
“You are never allowed to bring anyone back here ever again hyeong,” he hisses as Yoongi dissolves into hysterics.
“Well maybe if you’d actually gotten laid you wouldn’t have minded so much,”
“I hate you,”
“We’re gonna be late guys!” Hoseok runs through the living room, annoyingly well prepared as ever, “c’mon Hobeom just texted me he’s waiting outside for us,”
Namjoon makes a dash for the ‘dance bag’ he stashes under his bed. By the time they’re all in the car the talk has turned to variety shows and the embarrassing shit they’ll be doing this promotional cycle.
His phone vibrates and once he’s dug it out of his pocket Seokjin’s name lights up, 'sorry'
'Nothing to be sorry for' he replies, and they don’t speak to each other till dance practice is done.
~
When it comes to filming music videos, Bangtan like to make their mood known. They’re all back in their ridiculous outfits from the photo shoot and they really don’t look any better now than they did then.
Namjoon shrugs on his sky-blue dungarees and prepares to face the music. And oh how he wishes the pun was not intended.
Yoongi and Jimin have the ever important job of being complete idiots for this comeback. The dance routine has evolved to the point that it’s basically just Seokjin bumbling around the stage with his eyes popping whilst the rest of them fight to stay in sync, but it’s Yoongi and Jimin who have to make it look like Seokjin’s awkward trips are something other than his own clumsiness.
“Go again!” the director calls after Jungkook fails to avoid glaring death rays at the large cuddly teddy he’s traipsing around with for the umpteenth time. Hobeom slides up behind Namjoon as they watch from a safe distance behind the cameras.
“You need to cheer him up,” he mutters, “Seriously, get him to smile or we’re still gonna be here this time tomorrow. Don’t think I’m joking, you know it’s happened with 2AM before.”
“We’re trying!”
“Well try harder,”
“Maybe if he didn’t hate the concept so much…”
Hobeom thwacks him over the head, “Don’t get smart with me, you need to fix this.”
Namjoon grumbles his way over to where Yoongi is by all accounts plotting the murder of a large pink teddy bear.
“I reckon I could do it, one sharp tug and the head’ll come right off,” he tells Hoseok who looks like he’s listening to the single most boring monologue of his life. Namjoon snatches the bear out of Yoongi’s hands and glares at him.
Yoongi glares back, “what?”
“I need you to help me cheer Jungkook up.”
“Why me?”
“You’re the only one who hates this concept as much as him.”
“I hate this concept too,” Hoseok butts in, “I may not be whining about it like I’m five, but for the record, I hate it.”
“Well you go cheer him up then.”
“Absolutely not,”
“Why not?”
“Because I like watching someone reflect my inner state for all the world to see,” Hoseok leans back in his chair, “professionalism be damned. Let the kid sulk.”
Namjoon looms over the pair of them, though he rather suspects that all the frills and pastels are something of a detriment to his ‘imposing leader’ persona.
“If you don’t do something to cheer him up in the next five minutes, I will personally see to it that both of your diet plans are cut by 2000 calories a week.”
That sure gets them interested.
~
“Really, this is how we’re doing this?” Hobeom looks like he might just hate his job. Yoongi is standing behind the camera as it films Jungkook, slowly, methodically, and with the greatest glee ripping the heads of a variety of stuffed animals. It turns out that he can do it after all; one sharp tug is all it takes.
On set, Jungkook beams for the cameras. Namjoon’s fairly sure that the sadistic glint in his eyes is all too visible but the director doesn’t seem too phased so he supposes look alright on film.
“You know, if we have to redo any of the group shots it’s gonna be you tearing Peter Rabbit’s head off hyeong,” Namjoon says and Hobeom puts on his best sulking face,
“Such a waste of resources,” he sighs and Namjoon hopes that doesn’t mean a second cute comeback for them.
A woman breaks away from the crowd of photographers clustered at the other side of the room and comes trotting over to where the pair of them are standing, large brown envelope clutched in her hands. It’s only when she’s close enough to see the freckles under her nose that Namjoon recognises her as the photographer’s assistant from the photo shoot.
She stops abruptly, and bows to both of them in turn, “Namjoon, I have something for you!”
Hobeom’s eyes narrow on the envelope, “I think you’ll be sharing that with me first,” he reaches for the package but she snatches it away before he can lay hands on it.
She glances at Namjoon and blushes, “It’s personal,” she mumbles. Namjoon doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’s talking about and his confusion must show on his face because Hobeom wastes no time in telling her that nothing ‘personal’ goes straight to any of his artists unless they can prove they know what it is first.
“Nothing against you, we just don’t trust anyone,” he beams, and holds out his hand for the envelope.
Hobeom opens the A4 manila package as the woman walks back to the photographers huddle who are busy treating MV shooting like a second photo shoot. He opens it, pulls out a photograph large enough to fill the envelope and starts a little. He shoves it back inside and shoves the whole arrangement into Namjoon’s hand, “This better not mean what I think it means,” he hisses.
Confused, Namjoon checks the offending article, and when he sees what it is he feels his face go pink in seconds.
It’s the photo of Seokjin, the one the photographer had deleted at the photo shoot, blown up to A3 and smiling back at him from glossy paper. “I…..I didn’t ask her for this,” he mumbles, Hobeom scoffs.
“Hmm,”
“What?”
Hobeom glares at Namjoon very pointedly, “I can’t think of many reasons that a person would want that photo,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though he still looks rather unamused.
Namjoon’s about to protest very, very loudly, but he’s cut off by what is apparently the sound of a troop of chimpanzees whooping in delight.
“FILMING’S OVER!!” Yoongi screeches in his face, “WE CAN GO THE FUCK HOME!!” and less than ten seconds later he’s being shoved into his seat in the minivan, dungarees and all, by the insistent hands of Jimin and Taehyung.
“So, bulgogi for dinner tonight?” Hobeom suggests to a chorus of appreciative shrieks. The van pulls away from the studio parking lot and Namjoon puts the envelope in his bag, careful not to bend it. He suspects it’s for the best if none of the others ever find out it exists.
~
It’s less than a week before the final cut of the MV is dropped through their letterbox. Taehyung finds it (because he’s the only one ever up early enough to catch the postman) and has already watched it and made his assessment by the time he thinks to tell anyone else that it’s there.
“Do I really wanna watch this?” Yoongi asks warily as the seven of them crowd the living room.
“Oh don’t worry you barely have any screen time,” replies Taehyung.
“Great, that makes me feel so much better,” Yoongi’s sarcasm goes unnoticed by no one.
The music starts up and they are forced to watch themselves parade around like fools for three minutes in some kind of hideous teddy bear wonderland that has somehow acquired a girl for Seokjin to try to woo. The post video editing makes the heavy makeup they were all wearing look less ridiculous than it did in the flesh, or they’re going to have to assume it does from whatever screen time they get because really…
“I’m all over this,” Seokjin breathes, “What the fuck they spent forty minutes filming Jungkook. Why is he only in it for twenty seconds?”
“Well it beats my ten,” Yoongi looks simultaneously relieved and annoyed, “and I don’t think Namjoon even managed that,”
Namjoon frowns at the now blank screen. It’s something of a blessing, he supposes, that his screen time is cut. He’s not very cute and the whole concept goes against everything he stands for, but he’s also the leader and if they’re going to embarrass themselves, shouldn’t he be front and centre leading the charge? Seokjin is everywhere, he’s central to all the group shots and has at least twice as many solo shots as Taehyung who’s evidently cute enough to warrant something in the region of decent screen time. It’s annoying. They don’t look like a group.
“Sorry,” Seokjin mumbles.
“Not your fault,” Hoseok sighs, but it’s all too obvious he’s annoyed.
Seokjin still looks miserable, “I just-“
“It’s fine,” Yoongi snaps, “Really it’s not your fucking fault.”
“Yeah you can just do all that cutesy bullshit best,” Jungkook continues, but he sounds angry. The room feels angry. Namjoon takes a deep breath and realises that he’s angry too. An awkward silence curls its way between them and he has no idea what he should be doing to break it.
“I’m just gonna…yeah,” Seokjin barely pauses to grab his coat on the way out of the door and Namjoon doesn’t feel like stopping him.
~
“Namjoon hurry up! How long does it take you to do your make up Jesus,”
“I can’t find Seokjin,”
“Well the flat’s pretty fucking small- if it takes you longer than a minute he’s probably not here,”
Namjoon sticks his head round the bedroom door to see Yoongi looking infuriatingly cool in ripped white skinny jeans and a worn leather jacket, both of which highlight his absurdly light hair “He knew we were going out though, why would he not be here?”
Yoongi shrugs, “Maybe he’s already there,” Namjoon glares at him, “Well the others are already there! He might have gone with them.”
“He hasn’t sent me a single selca.”
“Well I dunno man maybe he just doesn’t like you,” Yoongi pauses, “Wait he sends you selcas? Like, regularly?”
“Yeah, so what?”
Yoongi gives him a long sideways glance.
“What?” Namjoon tries again more insistent, Yoongi smiles and shakes his head,
“God you’re dumb,” he mumbles as his phone goes off, “Right, apparently Jimin has been doing shots with Jungkook for the past half hour and Hoseok doesn’t want to be the only responsible adult there when he starts puking so can we please go now?”
“I just think we should-“
“Fuck Seokjin, seriously, we have a comeback next week this is the last time we’re gonna get to go out for like, months probably looking at our promotion cycles,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide and he does that thing he does with nunas where he looks up at them from under his eyelashes, “Please can we just go?”
Namjoon glares harder at him, “Are you seriously using aegyo on me?”
Yoongi’s face resolves into a frown and he sighs deeply, “Can we please just go?”
Namjoon sighs, checks his phone one last time, then nods. Yoongi chases him out the door before he can change his mind.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to be a dumbass when it comes to booze?”
Jungkook makes a sort of pathetic retching noise but nothing more comes up. His fingers slip on the edge of the bucket and Namjoon has to lunge forward to stop its contents from painting the kitchen floor an unappealing shade of green. As usual, the kid had decided he had something to prove, and that that thing should be that he can put away more alcohol than his hyeongs.
Five months of legal drinking and almost two years of illegal drinking prior haven’t taught him that drinking more than Min Yoongi is a scientific impossibility, and the number of times that Namjoon has wound up holding the kid’s hair back while he throws it all back up again is getting kind of ridiculous.
And it doesn’t help that he always manages to trick Jimin into trying to keep pace with him.
“I…I think…I think I’m gonna,” Jungkook’s head starts to loll and his eyes begin to droop. Namjoon carefully moves the bucket out of his grasp completely and slings an arm over his shoulders.
“Yeah let’s get you into bed.”
Jungkook passes out almost immediately and Namjoon has to return to the kitchen to deal with the bucket of puke that’s no doubt threatening to stink the place up so badly that they can’t go in there for a week. He’s not sure if he should be happy or pissed off that he’s more sober than he intended to be by this point in the evening.
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Namjoon looks up as he enters the kitchen to see Seokjin frowning at the bucket from as far away as possible.
“Where have you been?”
Seokjin looks at Namjoon like he’s gone mad. “Out! Not that it’s any of your business. Now can you please explain to me why there’s a bucket full of vomit in our kitchen? You know, where we eat?”
“Jungkook got drunk and Yoongi got Jimin to the bathroom first,”
“Wow what an amazing night out I’m so sorry I missed it,” Seokjin deadpans. Sarcasm isn’t really his thing, it catches Namjoon’s attention.
“Are you ok?”
Seokjin sniffs pointedly and says nothing. Namjoon knows this tactic all too well, but he’s never worked out how to get around it, “Suit yourself,” he mutters, moving to pick up the bucket.
“Yoongi and Jimin are still in the bathroom you know,” Seokjin snaps. It’s annoying when he gets like this, there’s no reason for him to be angry but he’s gonna go ahead and be angry, at everyone, and then be pathetically sorry the next day, “If you’d been paying attention you’d know that the bathroom door hasn’t opened since you walked in here. Come on it’s not like it’s hard - use your ears.”
Namjoon grits his teeth and makes an executive decision to not lose his temper, “Where would you like me to put it instead then, down the drain?” he lunges for the kitchen sink and Seokjin makes a noise somewhere in between a retch and a shriek as he moves to intercept him.
“No you can’t just fucking throw it down the sink that’s disgusting! I really, really….I really,” Namjoon stares, bewildered as Seokjin’s breath begins to catch and his eyes begin to blink too fast, the way they do when he’s about to cry. The kitchen feels too cramped, like they can’t be in it without invading each other’s personal space.
Seokjin takes a long, shuddering breath, “Just…go. Leave the bucket, you always have to deal with him, it’s not fair,”
“But-“
“Namjoon!” Seokjin’s does that thing that he does once in a blue moon where he fills out his age to its full potential and for the briefest of moments he becomes commanding, “Go.”
Namjoon retreats, past the sound of Yoongi laughing as Jimin whimpers over a toilet bowl, past the sound of Hoseok and Taehyung grumbling affectionately over their fellow member’s idiocy, past Yoongi and Seokjin’s bed into his own. Sleep teases him for hours, past the point where the lights go out and the house goes silent.
He hears the front door open and then click shut again, and wonders where the hell Seokjin is going.
~
Inkigayo is definitely the best way to kick off promotions, Namjoon decides. He’s done this whole ‘comeback’ thing enough times to feel like he’s in a position to pass judgement on this, and even through the dredge of insufferably cutesy ‘you and me forever baby’s’ that he has to endure for three minutes two seconds per performance it feel electric. They still have the same fans cheering for them, the same homemade fan signs thrown up around the audience; he’s come to know some of them so well over the years that he forgets that they’re not friends.
Leaving the stage everyone looks happier than he’s seen them in a week, “It was good!” Hoseok yelps happily, “It was actually fun!”
“If by ‘fun’ you mean ‘slightly less nauseating than expected’ then yeah, I guess it was fun” Yoongi grumbles, but his bad attitude is only too obviously being used to keep up appearances. There’s a smile teasing the corners of his mouth that only accentuates itself when he tries to scowl at Namjoon.
Taehyung slings an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder and another around Jungkook’s waist because he’s too tall for shoulder hugs these days, “Let’s promote together, happily and healthily,” he says seriously.
“You are such a nerd!” Jimin cackles, flinging himself onto Yoongi’s back to a chorus of dissatisfied groans, “Giddy up horsey! I want to go find that cute girl doing the interviews so I can show her my aegyo!”
“She doesn’t want to see it,” Yoongi whines.
“Well then I guess I’ll just have to show YOU my aegyo oppa!”
Yoongi trots off to the greenroom very quickly, Jimin’s gwiyomi ringing loud in all their ears.
~
Life descends into the whirlwind of interviews and performances that promotional cycles always entail. It’s not as easy as before, keeping face; aegyo becomes a way of life and there’s a whole new world of pressure to be perfect, to be seamless, that they all start to feel as mirror time in the bathroom becomes their most precious commodity. No one says anything stupid in interviews, or if they do it’s a slip up, like the years of giving less than the clinically prescribed number of fucks about their image are suddenly going to fade from public consciousness if they behave themselves really hard.
The shocking thing is that it works. The cutesy boy image pulls in the sales as well as the new fans, painting their crowds an increasingly unfamiliar shade of ‘new’ as old diehards peel off and the newbies take centre stage. At fan signs Namjoon finds himself peppered with comments about how so many fans just didn’t know what to make of a hiphop idol group but now, now they can appreciate how wonderful and talented Bangtan truly are. He doesn’t know how to respond to that; he doesn’t feel very talented when he steps onstage these days, but he’s worked out how to push on regardless, to find other joys in performing beyond the knowledge that it’s his music and lyrics moving the crowd to a frenzy.
The fancafe numbers go a bit crazy too. They increase, by a lot, but not without sacrifices. A lot of old fans leave them, familiar faces that they’ve all become used to hearing from over the past three years backing out quietly and going down screaming in equal measure. The new fans have different demographics, Jungkook and Taehyung had always battled it out for the title of Most Popular in the past but they are forced to admit defeat after not a week of promotions have gone past. It’s only natural with his prime position in the MV and choreography, not to mention the easy manner with which he handles interviews and the fact that if any of them get asked to MC it’s always him, but somehow they all still manage to be surprised when Seokjin swans past them all to become the fan favourite.
It’s not irritating per se, it's all for the good of the group and god knows they wouldn’t be able to hold this image together if it weren’t for him and yet…
“He’s never contributed creatively to this group, not even once,” Namjoon tells Hoseok in the Sunday morning quiet of the kitchen.
“Taehyung's not much better,” Hoseok points out, “You never had a problem with him being the most popular.”
Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek trying to put his frustration into words, “I dunno man, I don’t think I ever really felt it. Like, we decided he was the most popular because of the fancafe but it was never The Taehyung Show.”
“So you feel like it’s The Seokjin Show?”
Namjoon blinks, “Don’t you?”
Hoseok leans back against the kitchen counter and stares off into space, “I think you’re too used to wanting credit Namjoon, once you take away that kind of talent all that you have left is stage presence, and let’s be real here, when you try to be cute you’ve not got an ounce of it,”
“But this isn’t just about me; don’t tell me no one else is annoyed,”
“I won’t,” Hoseok shrugs, “But be careful, it’s not Seokjin hyeong’s fault they made us do something he’s good at for once. He has a hard enough time with Yoongi.”
“I am careful,” Namjoon sighs, and he is, though he can’t deny that even as Seokjin says just the right thing in every interview, even as he takes centre stage for every performance, even as he shrinks into himself when he comes offstage, it pisses him off.
And he’s not the only one. Yoongi of course has made his displeasure with the entire concept known from day one, and Seokjin’s merciless talent for it is no exception and Jungkook’s tactless manner of dealing with the things he finds annoying doesn’t make things any easier. What’s more surprising is the fact that Seokjin winds up watching anime alone on his bed more often than not because Taehyung is busy, and Jimin no longer needs to be told twice to do the dishes because apparently flirt-fighting is ok up till a point, and that point is Seokjin.
“Everyone’s angry, we’re starting to get mean,” Hoseok rubs barely stifled sleep from the corners of his eyes with too much vigour and comes up looking like he’s just punched himself in the nose. He’s right of course, he’s an idiot at times but he’s also rather good at being right.
Namjoon shrugs, “He’ll get over it.” The less than amicable look he receives in return says it all.
part 2
Fandom: BTS/Bangtan Boys/Bulletproof Boyscouts/Whatever they call themselves
Pairing(s): Jin/Rap Monster
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Swearing, implied sex
Summary: Bangtan have to do a cute concept, which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds
15,763 words
Written for the 2013 nugu-seyo fic exchange
Also on AO3
~
Hobeom is pointedly refusing to meet Namjoon’s gaze as he runs through the schedule for the looming comeback that they’ll be putting up with in ‘t minus six’ weeks. His desk is strewn with a somewhat eccentric assortment of schedules, bank statements and collectable figurines that he tries to hide behind as he hands over a proposed timescale of work that needs to be done before Bangtan Sonyeondan can get back on the stage.
The top page is the usual list of salon appointments and new dietary regulations (far too much celery for Namjoon’s liking) followed by a summation of seemingly every music show they could possibly get themselves onto. At the bottom of the page the words ‘Running Man’ have been highlighted, triple underlined and decorated with stars, Namjoon’s eyes flick up to Hobeom’s and he makes a face.
“I don’t really think we’re Running Man material yet hyeong,” Hobeom scowls and busies himself rummaging through one of his endless series of drawers.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to count your chickens before they hatch? Where did I put that…ahh ha! Tell me what you make of that” He pulls a piece of paper out from underneath a tower of ring binders and brandishes it at Namjoon who barely looks at it long enough to understand that it contains song lyrics before throwing it back at Hobeom.
“Glam really aren’t going to take much more of this cutesy shit hyeong, you should just let Jiyeon write for them she knows what she’s doing,”
Hobeom’s mouth twitches awkwardly and he becomes very very interested in his pen, “this isn’t a Glam song Namjoon.”
Namjoon frowns, “we have new meat coming through? I thought you said we wouldn’t have any new trainees ready to go for the next two years.”
“No they’re not for a new group,”
“Are you bringing 2AM out again? They only just stopped promoting?”
“No, not-“
“Then you’re putting David back out there?” there’s panic in Namjoon’s eyes growing more potent with every moment that Hobeom stays silent, when he finally receives an apologetic shake of the head, a whimper of something that sounds like terror escapes him. He grabs the sheet of lyrics off the desk and begins to read through more thoroughly, the sound of his hyperventilation filling the tiny office.
“Namjoon,” Hobeom reaches forward to try to remove the paper from his hands but his hand is slapped away.
“Tell me there’s some kind of sick beat to counterpoint all this hand-holding pastel pink bullshit hyeong please,”
Hobeom sighs and throws up his hands in despair, “I’m sorry Namjoon,”
Five minutes later, the lyrics have been reduced to a wet mush in Hobeom’s bin.
~
“Apparently we haven’t been selling very well,” Namjoon announces to the assembled ranks of Bangtan. Three years after debut and they’ve only just been moved into a bigger apartment. He can’t deny that he likes the extra space even if having enough couche space that they can all sit down at once still freaks him out somewhat.
“What are you talking about? Of course we sell well, we won rookie awards and shit,” says Jungkook, his unfairly long legs draped over Taehyung and Hoseok. “No one gets a rookie award without selling a few albums,”
“And just how many awards did we win last year?” Namjoon counters. The room is silent.
“We’ll do better this year,” sighs Hoseok, Yoongi nods along.
“Yeah I thought you said you had new stuff for us, you played me that track you were working on last week. It sounded good.” He sees Namjoon’s face twist into an awkward combination of rage and exasperation. “What?”
“The company…ah…we’re not going to be using my songs for the next comeback.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
“The fuck do you mean we’re not using your songs?” Jungkook manages to whack Jimin in the face with his foot as he stands to unheeded cries of anguish, “who the fuck else is gonna write for us?”
“Yeah this is some bullshit Namjoon what the fuck?” Yoongi tries in vain to stand shoulder to shoulder with the now oversized maknae and Namjoon resists the urge push him off his tiptoes.
“Do you have to use that kind of language?” Seokjin pushes the pair of them back; then rounds on Namjoon to get the full story.
“Hobeom hyeong says that we’re going to be trying a new,” deep breath, “we’re going to be trying a new direction this time round,” he reaches into his bag to pull out a stack of lyrics, “this is going to be our title song,” his voice is as even as he can manage as he hands them out to his bandmates.
The room is silent for all of two seconds.
Hoseok gets through them first, “well it certainly is different,” he says carefully, his ever present smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“If by ‘different’ you mean ‘a crock of horse shit’ then yeah I’m gonna have to agree with you,” Yoongi throws the offending piece of paper back at Namjoon, “are they fucking serious?”
Namjoon suddenly understands why it was so hard for Hobeom to meet his eyes, “well-“
“Oh my god they can’t be serious,” Taehyung whispers to his lyrics sheet as Jungkook begins to systematically tear his to pieces.
“It’s not that bad,” says Jimin brightly and there’s a collective groan from the other six in anticipation of the weeks of failed aegyo they’ll be putting up with as they promote, “No but really, we only have to say eotteokhae three times, that’s gotta be half the usual fare for an cute track,”
“An entire cute concept,” Yoongi amends as Jungkook silently crushes the paper fragments under his foot, “How are me, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook all supposed to get verses in if we’re supposed to be wooing virginal teenagers?”
The eye roll he receives from Seokjin is nothing short of spectacular, “Please, as if we were ever doing anything else.”
“What do you mean?” Taehyung looks confused. Everyone does. Seokjin looks around the room like he thinks the others might be slightly dense.
“We’re idols,” he says slowly, “That means we’re here to look pretty. The ‘message of the music’ is neither here nor there.”
“The hell it isn’t,”
“Hyeong sit down,” Namjoon lays a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. He recieves a sarcastic huff in response,
“No, I don’t think I will! Look,” he raises a finger and aims it squarely at Seokjin’s face, “I know that you’re not exactly well versed in hiphop, try as we might, but believe it or not we,” he gestures to the rapper line, “write about shit that matters.”
“You can write about whatever you please, it’s not going to mean anyone’s listening."
“Says who?”
“Our last album sales apparently.” Seokjin stands and tucks his lyrics sheet into his back pocket, “maybe the hiphop era’s over, with half of Big Bang in the army I think we can forgive the public for moving on.”
Yoongi looks about ready to start throwing punches and Jungkook’s eyes have gone a terrifying shade of apathetic. Seokjin exits stage right to the kitchen and starts pointedly banging pans together to drown out Yoongi’s tirade of expletives.
“Well you can’t blame him for wanting to put a positive spin on things,” Namjoon snaps as the rest of the group begin to dissipate. Yoongi glares back at him,
“How is him saying that a cutie boy concept is no different from what we’ve been doing up till now a ‘positive spin on things’? And you can’t blame me for calling this,” he snatches the stack of lyrics out of Namjoon’s hand and shoves it in his face, “a joke.”
Namjoon considers following him as he leaves, but Yoongi makes for the front door and by the time it’s swung closed, the house is silent but for the soft clink of Seokjin resting his pan of choice on the stove.
“He’s not angry with you, he’s just….he’s angry,” Namjoon calls to the sound of onions being sliced,
“Aren’t we all?” Seokjin replies and Namjoon’s inclined to agree with him.
~
Bigger dorm or not, the practice room will never be big enough to accommodate seven men and their combined sweat after three hours dancing. As usual, Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook collapse next to each other for water breaks so that they can commiserate over the deplorable state of their colleagues’ footwork in peace. It used to piss Namjoon off back when they first debuted, he felt bad enough as a dancerwhen it came to dancing without the constant reminders that if all of that was left to the dance line then everyone would have been in bed hours ago; but after countless nights spent trying to talk new trainees through the basics of a mixing desk, he hardly feels able to begrudge them the chance to vent.
Taehyung’s head lolls onto his shoulder and Namjoon has had just enough of this ridiculous cutesy dance for one day.
“Right! One more time guys, from the top!” Seongdeuk calls. He sounds far too happy for two o’clock in the morning and the hostility that the room at large holds towards him is palpable.
“I swear if I have to do that stupid fucking ‘omo’ thing one more time,” Yoongi mutters and Namjoon can sympathise.
“So I was thinking, you know that bit where Hoseok and Taehyung are supposed to spin Seokjin away from the girl and he moves back into formation with everyone else?”
“You mean that bit I always mess up?” Seokjin asks glumly.
“Yeah!” Seongdeuk beams at him like he’s done something particularly impressive and Jungkook’s eyes roll, “Yeah I was thinking we’d change that bit.”
Seokjin perks up.
“I was thinking we’d have you crash into Taehyung on purpose this time!” Seongdeuk grins.
“But why?” Seokjin’s confused expression speaks for them all.
Hobeom shrugs from the corner, “It’s cute. It fits the concept,”
“So, not being able to dance is cute?”
“No, Jimin, it just…it sort of-”
“It makes him look all giddy and in love,” Hoseok cuts across Seongdeuk, “hyeong’s right, it will look cute.”
“Would it look cute if I did it?”
“No Jimin, absolutely not.”
Of course, once he’s actually trying to knock Taehyung over, it takes Seokjin four tries to get it right. But by the time they’ve worked his clumsiness into their regular routine Seongdeuk would have them believe that Seokjin is some sort of accidental genius.
“That’s perfect!” he chortles as Seokjin steps the wrong way on the opening line of the third chorus and narrowly avoids getting hit by a flailing Hoseokian limb, “Yeah we’ll keep that.”
In the end they just seem to keep it all. The choreography concept switches from ‘clean cut men trying to get a girl’s attention’ to ‘the hilarious tale of how Kim Seokjin is awkward as fuck’.
Which is funny, Namjoon thinks, because out of all of them Seokjin is the least awkward with girls, but somehow his stumbles and trips make it look like he can fall head over heels in love (literally) in three seconds flat and that Park Jimin is the one whose slick moves allow him to keep it together.
“And again! One more time guys I promise you can go to bed after this,” Seongdeuk calls and they groan their way into starting position. Seokjin stumbles through his now all too deliberate mistakes as the rest of them do all that they can to stay in time with each other. With his attention half focused on the sweat-steamed mirror Namjoon thinks that they’re doing ok, he’s gotten better at spotting the steps that need more work since the early days when he was all but passive in dance rehearsals. It’s hard work staying on top of their dancing along with everything else but he’s come to appreciate that it’s just one of many qualities of a good leader.
“Namjoon no!” Seongdeuk stops them half way through, “Pay attention please! How many times do I have to tell you that it’s three beats before you peel off for the bridge? Sorry guys, you can go once you get this right.”
And really, Namjoon’s learned to ignore the angry looks he gets when he fucks up the routine for the umpteenth time, but there’s an irritation that settles in his stomach which he can’t quite place until they finally (three attempts later) get to leave the practice room and head home.
“I thought we’d never get to leave,” mumbles Seokjin, pulling his scarf further around his face. Ordinarily the walk home from the dance studio is one of shared commiseration over the split responsibility for extended dance rehearsals, but Namjoon knows that this time he’s left alone on the other side of the ‘can’t dance’ line. Seokjin’s eyes go wide when he realises what he’s said and his attempts to backpedal would probably be funny if they weren’t so heartfelt.
“Oh, um, Namjoon you know I didn’t mean-“
“It’s fine,” Namjoon sighs and he and Seokjin descend into an awkward silence that’s only broken when Jimin cuts between them hotly pursued by Yoongi whose hat, it transpires, has mysteriously vanished from his head.
There’s a minute’s chase during which Jimin tries desperately to pass the hat onto someone else to no avail and they all laugh themselves hoarse watching Yoongi getting steadily more out of breath as he tries to keep up with him. Eventually, Jimin gives up and throws the hat in Seokjin’s direction, only to watch it pass through his fingers and into a puddle. Suddenly the frown on Yoongi’s face isn’t so funny.
“Why’d you have to throw it to King Clumsy?” he growls, picking the beanie out of the puddle with cautious fingers and making a face when brown water drips slowly back to the street.
It’s not a big thing, it’s never a big thing, but Namjoon sees Seokjin flinch when Yoongi’s not looking. Yoongi won’t blame him; he’d never blame him because this is Jimin’s fault because Jimin was the one who threw the hat to Seokjin in the first place. He should have known not to hold any faith in his coordination skills and really Seokjin SHOULD be happy because Yoongi’s a dick when he’s angry and Seokjin, well…
Seokjin never had to try very hard to keep up appearances. He’s soft, gentle and submissive, and while it’s nice to have someone who can swallow the prescribed idol bullshit without gagging, looking after him can be a fulltime job. If he gets angry, he does it through pointed silence and sarcasm that he can never follow up on, but he’s not very good at pretending that he’s not more upset than the other person. Yoongi stalks off muttering to himself, he’ll probably be in a bad mood for hours just to prove a point, and Seokjin’s gaze falls to the floor.
“Hyeong-“
“It’s fine Namjoon,” he sighs, his steps quickening as he adopts a brusque march back to the dorms.
Namjoon follows after him, a step behind all the way home.
~
It’s not like Namjoon’s never worn a button up shirt before, he likes them, he owns several completely independently of Big Hit, and yet…
“I don’t like it,” he tells his stylist for the day, “like really, REALLY don’t like it,”
All the sympathy he receives is a disapproving glare and heartfelt sigh, the stylist-hyeong moves over to Jimin, mumbling something about unappreciative teenagers, “I’m twenty two,” Namjoon snaps before he can stop himself, and then he sort of wishes he could crawl into a hole and die because the last thing anyone wants to do is piss off the stylists.
Still, it can’t get much worse than heart shaped cufflinks.
Next to him, Jimin preens at his dolled up reflection. The makeup nunas are trying a different approach this time, something involving a lot more eye shadow than previous comebacks. Honestly, Jimin’s short enough that he can kind of pull off the pastel Tweedle-dum thing they’ve got going on with him, and the pink of his suspenders goes surprisingly well against the pale green of his shirt. Jimin doesn’t even mind, he makes ‘aegyo’ faces at himself in the mirror, seemingly oblivious to the curling of Taehyung’s lips next to him but it makes Namjoon think that maybe, just maybe, there’s enough natural talent for the cutie-boy concept in the group for them to not fuck it up completely.
Tweedle-dee on the other hand, begs to differ.
“No, nonononono, nope, not going in there, not happening, Jung Hoseok you better let go of me right the fuck now!”
“Language!” Hobeom barks in the general direction of Yoongi’s protests, “You boys are clean cut for this album, I don’t want to hear any more effing and blinding till you step off your last farewell stage,”
The string of expletives that Yoongi unleashes on their manager is Oscar worthy, and serves the added benefit of getting Yoongi into the room. His knee high socks (green to match his suspenders and Jimin’s shirt) have fallen down to meet his pink and white two-tones and the fact that his unstyled hair (platinum blonde for this comeback) flops into his eyes and prevents him from seeing anything properly all counts against him in terms of intimidation factor and Hobeom doesn’t have to try very hard to get a few good whacks in with the magazine he’s reading.
Defeated, Yoongi crashes into the makeup chair next to Namjoon and proceeds to make things as hard as possible for the stylists trying to fuss over him.
“You remember back when we debuted and I had to wear that maid’s outfit? You remember when I said that hiphop was dead? Well clearly I lied, there must have been something left to kill if this is any indication,” he gestures to the green glittery mess approaching his eyelids with a resigned sag to his soldiers, “Block B never had to put up with this shit.”
“Sure they did, just because it was Jiho hyeong making them wear it doesn’t mean they didn’t spend 2013 wearing more lipstick than So Nyeo Shi Dae,” Jungkook leans over Namjoon’s shoulder to examine his reflection and grimaces. They’ve got him in baby blue which is probably designed to make him look like a kid, but given how kind 2014 was to him hormone-wise he’s way too tall to give the look any credence, “eurgh, this blush is way too heavy,”
“Nooo, don’t be silly! That blush is perfect it makes you look so cute!” Yoongi’s makeup nuna coos. Namjoon feels it might be prudent to advise that she shut up before she gets her ass kicked, but at that moment Seokjin returns from the photo shoot and he gets called off to follow suit.
The photographer’s computer screens are filled with pictures of Kim Seokjin looking for all the world like the fairytale prince he’s supposed to be portraying. He’s still forced into a pair of shorts, but the defining element of his outfit is the butter-yellow tail coat, chosen so that it brings out the blonde highlights in his hair and, in Namjoon’s humble opinion, the least embarrassing article of clothing in the current Bangtan wardrobe.
The photographer hops over to him, nodding appreciatively when he sees Namjoon looking at the photos, “We’re just going, like, full on fairytale for this one,” he says seriously, “like, just imagine you’re, like, in Narnia or something,”
Namjoon nods distractedly as his eyes wander between the photos. They’ve got Seokjin hugging weird cuddly mythical creatures and anthropomorphic plants whilst posing with cutesy tea sets and artistically aged books. He looks enviably natural, but to be honest it’s all the kind of stuff that he can imagine Seokjin doing anyway. Namjoon can wink for the camera and pull dumb faces on cue, but it’s not like he’s going to be winning any ‘Model of the Year’ awards anytime soon.
“You ready?” asks the photographer. Namjoon nods and makes towards the set, but something catches his eye. The girl behind the computer has just pulled up a fresh round of photos, the first of which features a delightfully candid close up of Seokjin’s face, He’s laughing, his lips drawn back into his most genuine smile that he only really uses when he’s laughing at himself. The lights hit his face too hard and the line of his jaw blends into the white background, but it’s striking.
It looks too true to life, too perfectly exemplary of Kim Seokjin to be taken by accident, but the photographer leans over the girl’s shoulder and makes a face, “Eugh, no, get rid of it,”
“Wait!” Namjoon moves towards the screen but the image has already gone, vanished in a puff of data. The photographer gives him a questioning look.
“It just…it looked like him, like what he really looks like, ya know?”
Clearly the photographer doesn’t. He takes five seconds to stare at Namjoon like he’s a crazy person and then ushers him over to a pile of obnoxiously oversized cuddly toys.
“Smile!” he coos and Namjoon is only too relieved when the final product of his endeavours manages to not look nearly as fake as it felt.
There’s a low level grumble that plays soundtrack to the ride home. Yoongi has purposefully rubbed his makeup into giant pink and black spirals that make him look like an accident in a cosmetics factory that only gets worse when Taehyung starts using his own lilac eye shadow as finger paint for his arms.
Seokjin pulls a face, “You’re not allowed second shower looking like that Yoongi,”
“Says who?”
“Says the frankly ridiculous amount of makeup you’re covered in right now, you’re going to use up all the hot water.”
“So what if I do?” Yoongi’s mouth curls into an unpleasant sneer and he reaches forward to try to scrape some of the glitter from Seokjin’s cheek. His hand is slapped away before it reaches his goal and he lets out a bark of sarcastic laughter.
“C’mon, you’ve got this cute thing down to pat, share a little of that know how Jinnie.” Namjoon doesn’t like Yoongi’s tone at all, there’s enough open hostility in it to stop Seokjin in his tracks, trying to save face by maintaining eye contact.
When the silence starts to get awkward and Jungkook’s giggles start to break free, he cuts in, “That’s ‘hyeong’ to you,” and Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“I was just having a bit of fun Namjoon, jeez,”
“Well don’t,” he snaps, and they spend the rest of the journey sitting in silence.
~
The new dorm has two rooms, and no bunk beds, and everyone agrees that this is a much welcome luxury. The original plan had been hyeongs in the triple, dongsaengs in the quad but it’s no secret that Hoseok likes the younger members most and they hadn’t been moved in a week before he'd asked to swap with Namjoon. It’s a mercy being away from Jungkook’s snores and Taehyung’s erratic sleeping habits, but there are different downsides to rooming with Yoongi.
“Thanks guys, I owe you one,” he says from behind his shit eating grin. The door to their bedroom closes and Namjoon and Seokjin are left on the couch for the night.
Seokjin sighs and collapses onto the sofa, “Why can’t he just use a love motel like everyone else?”
“Some kind of alpha male need to prove that he gets laid on the regular? I don’t know man we’ve all brought someone back here before,”
“Yes but Yoongi definitely holds the record for most awkward timing.”
“What about that time Jungkook brought a girl back when Hoseok hyeong’s parents were visiting?” Namjoon counters, going to sit next to Seokjin, “Need I remind you of how quickly we had to get them out of the house?”
“Yes well at least Jungkook never had to go to hospital because he tripped over his own underwear and hit his head on the nightstand,”
Namjoon is indignant, “that was one time! You can’t-” Seokjin breaks into a peel of muffled giggles that he can’t hide behind his hand, “Hyeong don’t laugh I got concussion!”
Seokjin beams at him fondly and makes to ruffle his hair, “And we all took care of you very well,”
“Taehyung wrote a song about it featuring the line ‘such an idiot will never be seen again in my time’ and kept humming it during interviews,” Namjoon shoves Seokjin’s shoulder and he keels over onto the couch, “C’mon, let’s watch a film or something,”
Seokjin makes a face, “Shouldn’t we try to get some sleep?”
“Well considering that they only just got home I’d say Yoongi and his gentleman caller have at least an hour to go before they stop doing whatever it is that they do and I really don’t want things to get quiet enough for me to have to hear them,”
“Eurgh,” Seokjin shudders, “Ok, yeah film, what’s it gonna be?”
Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows, “Do I even need to say?” Seokjin beams at him.
Halfway through the first Pokémon movie, Mewtwo has failed to capture Pikachu, and Namjoon and Seokjin are crashed out on the couch.
Seokjin’s head shifts under Namjoon’s chin, bringing him sharply out of his decline towards sleep. He’s not the most touchy-feely person, but it’s hard to care when they’re both so tired. Seokjin’s arm lies across his stomach, head resting on his chest and Namjoon’s own arm is wrapped tight around his shoulders. Namjoon doesn’t do this with anyone very often, skinship really isn’t his thing, but he has to admit that the deadweight of Seokjin’s body is comforting and satisfyingly warm in the early morning air.
“Namjoonie?” Seokjin mumbles into his chest.
“I thought I told you not to call me that,”
“But it’s so cuuuuuuuute,”
“Yeah that’s the problem,”
Seokjin sits up and looks Namjoon in the eyes. He’s freakishly good at holding a person’s gaze and within seconds Namjoon feels decidedly uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Do you think I’m cute?” asks Seokjin, deadly serious.
“What- like girl cute?”
“Girl cute, boy cute, whate-”
“I’m not Yoongi, man if you’re trying to get laid you need to ask someone else,”
“I’m not asking if you want to fuck me, I’m asking if you think I’m cute,”
Namjoon tries to hold Seokjin’s unwavering gaze but quickly decides that the battle between cloned and non cloned Pokémon is more interesting, “you mean like at the photo shoot?”
“Yes, at the photo shoot, whatever, do you think I’m cute?”
“I guess…”
“Do you like it?”
Namjoon blinks dumbly at the TV, “are you really sure you’re not trying to get laid?”
“No! No I just…” Seokjin sighs and settles back on the couch, “You guys always talk about being cute like it’s a bad thing, and then everyone tells me I’m cute.”
“They tell Jungkook he’s cute too,” replies Namjoon, Seokjin rolls his eyes.
“That’s because they don’t know Jungkook,”
The sound of Mewtwo’s battle with Mew fills the room as an awkward silence descends between the two of them.
“You’re good at it,” Namjoon mumbles, “You can be cute and it doesn’t look dumb. When I do it it’s dumb, when Jimin does it it’s really dumb, when you do it it’s ok. It’s good.”
The silence stretches on, and Ash declares Mewtwo’s plan insane. Seokjin creeps up behind him.
“Who says you’re not good at being cute?” he says, resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“Gahh, hyeong get off,” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders pathetically and feigns annoyance but Seokjin just laughs.
“No way kiddo,”
“But it’s bed time!”
“The film’s still going,”
“I don’t care, Yoongi and what’s-his-face finished up twenty minutes ago and we have to be in dance rehearsals in….six hours,”
Seokjin sighs, wraps an arm around Namjoon’s waist and pulls them both down onto the sofa. Namjoon yelps loudly.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of me I’m sleeping on the other couch,”
“No you’re not,”
“You better let me go o-“
“It’s cold, it’s late, I’m not letting you go, deal with it,” mutters Seokjin, his breath skittering across the back of Namjoon’s neck.
“But-“
“No buts,” Seokjin tightens his arm around Namjoon’s waist and all the fight leaves his body. On the TV, Ash is revived by the tears of the Pokémon who love him so and behind him Seokjin’s breathing evens.
He’ll move, in a moment, when he’s sure Seokjin is asleep.
Namjoon yawns and blinks at the screen. Seokjin’s body heat is comforting, the slight rise and fall of his chest mesmerising. His eyes fall closed and he tries really, really hard not to fall asleep.
Namjoon’s eyes open to find the living room lit by pale morning sunlight and Taehyung standing over him grinning like an idiot.
“What?” he mumbles.
In answer, Taehyung raises his hands and forms a heart which he proceeds to grin through pointedly. It takes Namjoon longer than it should do to work it out, but Seokjin’s legs twitch against his own and all of a sudden he’s very wide awake, vaulting off the couch before any of the others can see the pair of them spooning.
He looks at the clock on the DVD player and groans.
“Shit it’s late,” Seokjin grumbles from the couch as Yoongi enters from the kitchen carrying rice for each of them.
“You guys have a good time last night?” he wiggles his eyebrows as he sets the food down on the floor.
“Oh fuck off it was cold,” Namjoon sulks.
“Yeah that’s what they all say,”
“You didn’t actually have sex on the couch did you?” Jimin shouts from the bathroom, “Because that would be really gross,”
“We didn’t have sex!” groans Namjoon. “I swear the next time I catch Hoseok and Taehyung spooning I will be posting photographic evidence to the fancafe,”
Taehyung shrugs and plops himself down next to Yoongi, “no one cares anymore hyeong, they’ve seen it all before,”
“Besides, the picture I posted of the two of you has caused more of a stir than anything ‘VHope’ have ever done."
Namjoon blinks at him dumbly for a few seconds, and by the time he’s come to his senses Seokjin has found his phone and is already whining about the photo. It’s worse than expected, his hand dangerously close to Seokjin’s and their legs perfectly in line,
“You are never allowed to bring anyone back here ever again hyeong,” he hisses as Yoongi dissolves into hysterics.
“Well maybe if you’d actually gotten laid you wouldn’t have minded so much,”
“I hate you,”
“We’re gonna be late guys!” Hoseok runs through the living room, annoyingly well prepared as ever, “c’mon Hobeom just texted me he’s waiting outside for us,”
Namjoon makes a dash for the ‘dance bag’ he stashes under his bed. By the time they’re all in the car the talk has turned to variety shows and the embarrassing shit they’ll be doing this promotional cycle.
His phone vibrates and once he’s dug it out of his pocket Seokjin’s name lights up, 'sorry'
'Nothing to be sorry for' he replies, and they don’t speak to each other till dance practice is done.
~
When it comes to filming music videos, Bangtan like to make their mood known. They’re all back in their ridiculous outfits from the photo shoot and they really don’t look any better now than they did then.
Namjoon shrugs on his sky-blue dungarees and prepares to face the music. And oh how he wishes the pun was not intended.
Yoongi and Jimin have the ever important job of being complete idiots for this comeback. The dance routine has evolved to the point that it’s basically just Seokjin bumbling around the stage with his eyes popping whilst the rest of them fight to stay in sync, but it’s Yoongi and Jimin who have to make it look like Seokjin’s awkward trips are something other than his own clumsiness.
“Go again!” the director calls after Jungkook fails to avoid glaring death rays at the large cuddly teddy he’s traipsing around with for the umpteenth time. Hobeom slides up behind Namjoon as they watch from a safe distance behind the cameras.
“You need to cheer him up,” he mutters, “Seriously, get him to smile or we’re still gonna be here this time tomorrow. Don’t think I’m joking, you know it’s happened with 2AM before.”
“We’re trying!”
“Well try harder,”
“Maybe if he didn’t hate the concept so much…”
Hobeom thwacks him over the head, “Don’t get smart with me, you need to fix this.”
Namjoon grumbles his way over to where Yoongi is by all accounts plotting the murder of a large pink teddy bear.
“I reckon I could do it, one sharp tug and the head’ll come right off,” he tells Hoseok who looks like he’s listening to the single most boring monologue of his life. Namjoon snatches the bear out of Yoongi’s hands and glares at him.
Yoongi glares back, “what?”
“I need you to help me cheer Jungkook up.”
“Why me?”
“You’re the only one who hates this concept as much as him.”
“I hate this concept too,” Hoseok butts in, “I may not be whining about it like I’m five, but for the record, I hate it.”
“Well you go cheer him up then.”
“Absolutely not,”
“Why not?”
“Because I like watching someone reflect my inner state for all the world to see,” Hoseok leans back in his chair, “professionalism be damned. Let the kid sulk.”
Namjoon looms over the pair of them, though he rather suspects that all the frills and pastels are something of a detriment to his ‘imposing leader’ persona.
“If you don’t do something to cheer him up in the next five minutes, I will personally see to it that both of your diet plans are cut by 2000 calories a week.”
That sure gets them interested.
~
“Really, this is how we’re doing this?” Hobeom looks like he might just hate his job. Yoongi is standing behind the camera as it films Jungkook, slowly, methodically, and with the greatest glee ripping the heads of a variety of stuffed animals. It turns out that he can do it after all; one sharp tug is all it takes.
On set, Jungkook beams for the cameras. Namjoon’s fairly sure that the sadistic glint in his eyes is all too visible but the director doesn’t seem too phased so he supposes look alright on film.
“You know, if we have to redo any of the group shots it’s gonna be you tearing Peter Rabbit’s head off hyeong,” Namjoon says and Hobeom puts on his best sulking face,
“Such a waste of resources,” he sighs and Namjoon hopes that doesn’t mean a second cute comeback for them.
A woman breaks away from the crowd of photographers clustered at the other side of the room and comes trotting over to where the pair of them are standing, large brown envelope clutched in her hands. It’s only when she’s close enough to see the freckles under her nose that Namjoon recognises her as the photographer’s assistant from the photo shoot.
She stops abruptly, and bows to both of them in turn, “Namjoon, I have something for you!”
Hobeom’s eyes narrow on the envelope, “I think you’ll be sharing that with me first,” he reaches for the package but she snatches it away before he can lay hands on it.
She glances at Namjoon and blushes, “It’s personal,” she mumbles. Namjoon doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’s talking about and his confusion must show on his face because Hobeom wastes no time in telling her that nothing ‘personal’ goes straight to any of his artists unless they can prove they know what it is first.
“Nothing against you, we just don’t trust anyone,” he beams, and holds out his hand for the envelope.
Hobeom opens the A4 manila package as the woman walks back to the photographers huddle who are busy treating MV shooting like a second photo shoot. He opens it, pulls out a photograph large enough to fill the envelope and starts a little. He shoves it back inside and shoves the whole arrangement into Namjoon’s hand, “This better not mean what I think it means,” he hisses.
Confused, Namjoon checks the offending article, and when he sees what it is he feels his face go pink in seconds.
It’s the photo of Seokjin, the one the photographer had deleted at the photo shoot, blown up to A3 and smiling back at him from glossy paper. “I…..I didn’t ask her for this,” he mumbles, Hobeom scoffs.
“Hmm,”
“What?”
Hobeom glares at Namjoon very pointedly, “I can’t think of many reasons that a person would want that photo,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though he still looks rather unamused.
Namjoon’s about to protest very, very loudly, but he’s cut off by what is apparently the sound of a troop of chimpanzees whooping in delight.
“FILMING’S OVER!!” Yoongi screeches in his face, “WE CAN GO THE FUCK HOME!!” and less than ten seconds later he’s being shoved into his seat in the minivan, dungarees and all, by the insistent hands of Jimin and Taehyung.
“So, bulgogi for dinner tonight?” Hobeom suggests to a chorus of appreciative shrieks. The van pulls away from the studio parking lot and Namjoon puts the envelope in his bag, careful not to bend it. He suspects it’s for the best if none of the others ever find out it exists.
~
It’s less than a week before the final cut of the MV is dropped through their letterbox. Taehyung finds it (because he’s the only one ever up early enough to catch the postman) and has already watched it and made his assessment by the time he thinks to tell anyone else that it’s there.
“Do I really wanna watch this?” Yoongi asks warily as the seven of them crowd the living room.
“Oh don’t worry you barely have any screen time,” replies Taehyung.
“Great, that makes me feel so much better,” Yoongi’s sarcasm goes unnoticed by no one.
The music starts up and they are forced to watch themselves parade around like fools for three minutes in some kind of hideous teddy bear wonderland that has somehow acquired a girl for Seokjin to try to woo. The post video editing makes the heavy makeup they were all wearing look less ridiculous than it did in the flesh, or they’re going to have to assume it does from whatever screen time they get because really…
“I’m all over this,” Seokjin breathes, “What the fuck they spent forty minutes filming Jungkook. Why is he only in it for twenty seconds?”
“Well it beats my ten,” Yoongi looks simultaneously relieved and annoyed, “and I don’t think Namjoon even managed that,”
Namjoon frowns at the now blank screen. It’s something of a blessing, he supposes, that his screen time is cut. He’s not very cute and the whole concept goes against everything he stands for, but he’s also the leader and if they’re going to embarrass themselves, shouldn’t he be front and centre leading the charge? Seokjin is everywhere, he’s central to all the group shots and has at least twice as many solo shots as Taehyung who’s evidently cute enough to warrant something in the region of decent screen time. It’s annoying. They don’t look like a group.
“Sorry,” Seokjin mumbles.
“Not your fault,” Hoseok sighs, but it’s all too obvious he’s annoyed.
Seokjin still looks miserable, “I just-“
“It’s fine,” Yoongi snaps, “Really it’s not your fucking fault.”
“Yeah you can just do all that cutesy bullshit best,” Jungkook continues, but he sounds angry. The room feels angry. Namjoon takes a deep breath and realises that he’s angry too. An awkward silence curls its way between them and he has no idea what he should be doing to break it.
“I’m just gonna…yeah,” Seokjin barely pauses to grab his coat on the way out of the door and Namjoon doesn’t feel like stopping him.
~
“Namjoon hurry up! How long does it take you to do your make up Jesus,”
“I can’t find Seokjin,”
“Well the flat’s pretty fucking small- if it takes you longer than a minute he’s probably not here,”
Namjoon sticks his head round the bedroom door to see Yoongi looking infuriatingly cool in ripped white skinny jeans and a worn leather jacket, both of which highlight his absurdly light hair “He knew we were going out though, why would he not be here?”
Yoongi shrugs, “Maybe he’s already there,” Namjoon glares at him, “Well the others are already there! He might have gone with them.”
“He hasn’t sent me a single selca.”
“Well I dunno man maybe he just doesn’t like you,” Yoongi pauses, “Wait he sends you selcas? Like, regularly?”
“Yeah, so what?”
Yoongi gives him a long sideways glance.
“What?” Namjoon tries again more insistent, Yoongi smiles and shakes his head,
“God you’re dumb,” he mumbles as his phone goes off, “Right, apparently Jimin has been doing shots with Jungkook for the past half hour and Hoseok doesn’t want to be the only responsible adult there when he starts puking so can we please go now?”
“I just think we should-“
“Fuck Seokjin, seriously, we have a comeback next week this is the last time we’re gonna get to go out for like, months probably looking at our promotion cycles,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide and he does that thing he does with nunas where he looks up at them from under his eyelashes, “Please can we just go?”
Namjoon glares harder at him, “Are you seriously using aegyo on me?”
Yoongi’s face resolves into a frown and he sighs deeply, “Can we please just go?”
Namjoon sighs, checks his phone one last time, then nods. Yoongi chases him out the door before he can change his mind.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to be a dumbass when it comes to booze?”
Jungkook makes a sort of pathetic retching noise but nothing more comes up. His fingers slip on the edge of the bucket and Namjoon has to lunge forward to stop its contents from painting the kitchen floor an unappealing shade of green. As usual, the kid had decided he had something to prove, and that that thing should be that he can put away more alcohol than his hyeongs.
Five months of legal drinking and almost two years of illegal drinking prior haven’t taught him that drinking more than Min Yoongi is a scientific impossibility, and the number of times that Namjoon has wound up holding the kid’s hair back while he throws it all back up again is getting kind of ridiculous.
And it doesn’t help that he always manages to trick Jimin into trying to keep pace with him.
“I…I think…I think I’m gonna,” Jungkook’s head starts to loll and his eyes begin to droop. Namjoon carefully moves the bucket out of his grasp completely and slings an arm over his shoulders.
“Yeah let’s get you into bed.”
Jungkook passes out almost immediately and Namjoon has to return to the kitchen to deal with the bucket of puke that’s no doubt threatening to stink the place up so badly that they can’t go in there for a week. He’s not sure if he should be happy or pissed off that he’s more sober than he intended to be by this point in the evening.
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Namjoon looks up as he enters the kitchen to see Seokjin frowning at the bucket from as far away as possible.
“Where have you been?”
Seokjin looks at Namjoon like he’s gone mad. “Out! Not that it’s any of your business. Now can you please explain to me why there’s a bucket full of vomit in our kitchen? You know, where we eat?”
“Jungkook got drunk and Yoongi got Jimin to the bathroom first,”
“Wow what an amazing night out I’m so sorry I missed it,” Seokjin deadpans. Sarcasm isn’t really his thing, it catches Namjoon’s attention.
“Are you ok?”
Seokjin sniffs pointedly and says nothing. Namjoon knows this tactic all too well, but he’s never worked out how to get around it, “Suit yourself,” he mutters, moving to pick up the bucket.
“Yoongi and Jimin are still in the bathroom you know,” Seokjin snaps. It’s annoying when he gets like this, there’s no reason for him to be angry but he’s gonna go ahead and be angry, at everyone, and then be pathetically sorry the next day, “If you’d been paying attention you’d know that the bathroom door hasn’t opened since you walked in here. Come on it’s not like it’s hard - use your ears.”
Namjoon grits his teeth and makes an executive decision to not lose his temper, “Where would you like me to put it instead then, down the drain?” he lunges for the kitchen sink and Seokjin makes a noise somewhere in between a retch and a shriek as he moves to intercept him.
“No you can’t just fucking throw it down the sink that’s disgusting! I really, really….I really,” Namjoon stares, bewildered as Seokjin’s breath begins to catch and his eyes begin to blink too fast, the way they do when he’s about to cry. The kitchen feels too cramped, like they can’t be in it without invading each other’s personal space.
Seokjin takes a long, shuddering breath, “Just…go. Leave the bucket, you always have to deal with him, it’s not fair,”
“But-“
“Namjoon!” Seokjin’s does that thing that he does once in a blue moon where he fills out his age to its full potential and for the briefest of moments he becomes commanding, “Go.”
Namjoon retreats, past the sound of Yoongi laughing as Jimin whimpers over a toilet bowl, past the sound of Hoseok and Taehyung grumbling affectionately over their fellow member’s idiocy, past Yoongi and Seokjin’s bed into his own. Sleep teases him for hours, past the point where the lights go out and the house goes silent.
He hears the front door open and then click shut again, and wonders where the hell Seokjin is going.
~
Inkigayo is definitely the best way to kick off promotions, Namjoon decides. He’s done this whole ‘comeback’ thing enough times to feel like he’s in a position to pass judgement on this, and even through the dredge of insufferably cutesy ‘you and me forever baby’s’ that he has to endure for three minutes two seconds per performance it feel electric. They still have the same fans cheering for them, the same homemade fan signs thrown up around the audience; he’s come to know some of them so well over the years that he forgets that they’re not friends.
Leaving the stage everyone looks happier than he’s seen them in a week, “It was good!” Hoseok yelps happily, “It was actually fun!”
“If by ‘fun’ you mean ‘slightly less nauseating than expected’ then yeah, I guess it was fun” Yoongi grumbles, but his bad attitude is only too obviously being used to keep up appearances. There’s a smile teasing the corners of his mouth that only accentuates itself when he tries to scowl at Namjoon.
Taehyung slings an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder and another around Jungkook’s waist because he’s too tall for shoulder hugs these days, “Let’s promote together, happily and healthily,” he says seriously.
“You are such a nerd!” Jimin cackles, flinging himself onto Yoongi’s back to a chorus of dissatisfied groans, “Giddy up horsey! I want to go find that cute girl doing the interviews so I can show her my aegyo!”
“She doesn’t want to see it,” Yoongi whines.
“Well then I guess I’ll just have to show YOU my aegyo oppa!”
Yoongi trots off to the greenroom very quickly, Jimin’s gwiyomi ringing loud in all their ears.
~
Life descends into the whirlwind of interviews and performances that promotional cycles always entail. It’s not as easy as before, keeping face; aegyo becomes a way of life and there’s a whole new world of pressure to be perfect, to be seamless, that they all start to feel as mirror time in the bathroom becomes their most precious commodity. No one says anything stupid in interviews, or if they do it’s a slip up, like the years of giving less than the clinically prescribed number of fucks about their image are suddenly going to fade from public consciousness if they behave themselves really hard.
The shocking thing is that it works. The cutesy boy image pulls in the sales as well as the new fans, painting their crowds an increasingly unfamiliar shade of ‘new’ as old diehards peel off and the newbies take centre stage. At fan signs Namjoon finds himself peppered with comments about how so many fans just didn’t know what to make of a hiphop idol group but now, now they can appreciate how wonderful and talented Bangtan truly are. He doesn’t know how to respond to that; he doesn’t feel very talented when he steps onstage these days, but he’s worked out how to push on regardless, to find other joys in performing beyond the knowledge that it’s his music and lyrics moving the crowd to a frenzy.
The fancafe numbers go a bit crazy too. They increase, by a lot, but not without sacrifices. A lot of old fans leave them, familiar faces that they’ve all become used to hearing from over the past three years backing out quietly and going down screaming in equal measure. The new fans have different demographics, Jungkook and Taehyung had always battled it out for the title of Most Popular in the past but they are forced to admit defeat after not a week of promotions have gone past. It’s only natural with his prime position in the MV and choreography, not to mention the easy manner with which he handles interviews and the fact that if any of them get asked to MC it’s always him, but somehow they all still manage to be surprised when Seokjin swans past them all to become the fan favourite.
It’s not irritating per se, it's all for the good of the group and god knows they wouldn’t be able to hold this image together if it weren’t for him and yet…
“He’s never contributed creatively to this group, not even once,” Namjoon tells Hoseok in the Sunday morning quiet of the kitchen.
“Taehyung's not much better,” Hoseok points out, “You never had a problem with him being the most popular.”
Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek trying to put his frustration into words, “I dunno man, I don’t think I ever really felt it. Like, we decided he was the most popular because of the fancafe but it was never The Taehyung Show.”
“So you feel like it’s The Seokjin Show?”
Namjoon blinks, “Don’t you?”
Hoseok leans back against the kitchen counter and stares off into space, “I think you’re too used to wanting credit Namjoon, once you take away that kind of talent all that you have left is stage presence, and let’s be real here, when you try to be cute you’ve not got an ounce of it,”
“But this isn’t just about me; don’t tell me no one else is annoyed,”
“I won’t,” Hoseok shrugs, “But be careful, it’s not Seokjin hyeong’s fault they made us do something he’s good at for once. He has a hard enough time with Yoongi.”
“I am careful,” Namjoon sighs, and he is, though he can’t deny that even as Seokjin says just the right thing in every interview, even as he takes centre stage for every performance, even as he shrinks into himself when he comes offstage, it pisses him off.
And he’s not the only one. Yoongi of course has made his displeasure with the entire concept known from day one, and Seokjin’s merciless talent for it is no exception and Jungkook’s tactless manner of dealing with the things he finds annoying doesn’t make things any easier. What’s more surprising is the fact that Seokjin winds up watching anime alone on his bed more often than not because Taehyung is busy, and Jimin no longer needs to be told twice to do the dishes because apparently flirt-fighting is ok up till a point, and that point is Seokjin.
“Everyone’s angry, we’re starting to get mean,” Hoseok rubs barely stifled sleep from the corners of his eyes with too much vigour and comes up looking like he’s just punched himself in the nose. He’s right of course, he’s an idiot at times but he’s also rather good at being right.
Namjoon shrugs, “He’ll get over it.” The less than amicable look he receives in return says it all.
part 2