Done is better than perfect

Sung Ho, one of Yoongi’s assistants, had greeted you when you’d arrived and ushered you into this small room. 

“There are some things to sign before you can check in.”  

‘Some things’ turns out to include: a blanket NDA for the trip, one that just covers what happens in the studio, another that covers any social activities outside of the studio or the hotel. 

One around permission to film you as there will be a camera crew present. One that says any contributions you make to the recording process will be the intellectual property of the company. 

And finally, one that makes you promise you will not take any personal effects belonging to the ‘Artist’, including any biological waste, such as used tissues, or apparel, such as socks. 

For this one, you look up at the attorney with wide eyes. 

“Really?”

He just shrugs. “Let’s just say nothing surprises me any more.”

“Yikes.”  

You keep signing. 

Afterwards, Sung Ho hands you a room key and walks you to an elevator. 

“Okay, there are two sessions, one tonight and another the day after tomorrow. A few ground rules: sit in the back, don’t speak unless spoken to. Ever. Also, the room will be kind of crowded today because of the featured artist and their team will also be there.”

“Guest artist?”

“They happened to be in town at the same time as Min Yoongi nim, so the schedule was moved to accommodate them.”

You nod and try to project an air of nonchalance. Look at how relaxed and carefree I am! Like you’re briefed on Yoongi’s schedule all the time. And walking into a packed studio filled with famous professionals is something you do every day. 

The tremble in your hands is back. 

Breathe in and breathe out. 

At the elevators, Sung Ho hands you a key card. 

“Bus for the studio leaves in 20 minutes. Meet in the front parking lot.”

“Thanks!” You put on your happiest, most grateful face until the elevator doors close and then you’re free to freak out. 

Fuck. You had all of your outfits carefully planned for each studio session, but you were supposed to have hours to get ready and to attempt being mentally prepared to breathe the same air as Yoongi.

In your room you’re pulling stuff out of your suitcase and decide that a quick shower is worth the time so you don’t smell Iike airport delays and panic, brush your teeth twice and try and do something with your hair. 

By the time you make it back to the lobby, you feel like you just ran a mile and are sweating like you did. 

You remind yourself to keep expectations low. In the basement low. 

You see the mini-bus in the parking lot, Sung Ho is standing outside and he waves you over. 

Low expectations. Low expectations. 

This is an opportunity to learn. Nothing more. A business trip. A work meeting. A master class. A hands-on learning experience. A—

There, in the front row of this mini bus, is Min Yoongi. 

Suga from BTS. 

Agust Fucking D.

He is just sitting there, like it’s no big deal. Like you haven’t listened to every single one of his songs a thousand times. Like you haven’t memorized the entirety of Moonlight. Like you didn’t cry yourself to sleep to Snooze last week. 

Like you haven’t seen him cook dinner, bungee jump, or herd sheep in New Zealand. Or hip thrust during Baepsae. (No one needs to know how many times you have watched that dance rehearsal, okay?)

Like he isn’t the most gorgeous person you have ever laid eyes on in your entire life. 

He’s slumped down in the seat a bit and looks a little sleepy. He’s in a sweatshirt and jeans, a cap low over his eyes, typing something on his phone. He could not look cozier or more boyfriend or more fucking perfect. 

He glances up as you step into the bus and both of you freeze. He looks you right in the eye and it  hits you like a punch. Your hands feel numb, your fingertips start tingling. 

You haven’t texted or spoken since the video call. You were so unsure if it was even okay to reach out and he didn’t message you and now he’s just right there. 

You might cry. You might be sick. You should turn around and—

“Hi.” He gives you a little half smile and sits up a little bit.

You don’t miss the way his eyes dart across your body and back to your face. 

“Hi.”

“You made it.”

“I did.”

“But you’re late.”

“Oh, sorry. I—”

“Sung Ho-ssi, we’re ready.” Yoongi calls out a bit. He gives you a nod and goes back to his phone. 

Well. Okay then. 

You walk to an empty seat further back on the bus. There are a few other people there, one you recognize as a HYBE in-house producer. Others have camera equipment. 

You smile and nod at them and pretend to be a normal functioning human being after seeing Yoongi in person for the first time. Because this is all so surreal you might be in a simulation.

There are no pillows to scream into on this bus. That seems like an oversight.  Maybe you should have brought one? For shrieking purposes? 

The bus ride is short. But you barely notice anything and try your hardest to not stare at the back of Yoongi’s head. Or to watch his fingers tap away at his phone, because, god, you want them to tap away at you. Any part of you. 

You try to focus on your breathing. You’re here to learn. You’re here to learn…not to wonder what the slightly curled ends of Yoongi’s long, dark hair would feel like if you ran your—

You’ve arrived. 

The studio is amazing, bigger and more polished than the one in your city. There are gold records lining the walls in the lobby and down the multiple hallways. 

Studio staff are trying to find spots for the HYBE staff and producers, the featured artist and their team, plus the camera crew. They’re filming some kind of documentary about this album.

You're just trying to find a seat as far away from the board as you can be. 

“Are you crew or the girlfriend or something?” One of the studio people trying to help get everyone situated is trying to stop you from sitting on the couch. 

“Excuse me?” You look at him in confusion, a little surprised anyone is speaking to you at all. And trying really hard not to react to his assumption that you, one of the few women in the room, must be someone’s girlfriend.

“Are you with one of the—” 

“She’s a producer, she’s fine on the couch with us.” Yoongi’s gravely voice projects across the room. He doesn’t even look back at you.

“He just assumed that because you’re hot.” The woman standing next to you whispers. 

“What? Oh, I’m not—thanks?” 

She laughs and introduces herself as an assistant at the studio. And then offers to get you a coffee, which you very gratefully accept. 

You take a seat, stunned at what just happened. When you look up, Yoongi is staring at you with a slight frown and he moves towards you like he’s going to say something, when the assistant returns with your coffee.

You thank her and when you look to Yoongi, he’s sitting with his back turned.  

You do not need caffeine right now. Your heart is racing and your ears are ringing with the sound of Yoongi calling you a producer. 

Things get started and it’s amazing to watch him work. His quiet command, the way he engages and smiles. He defers to other opinions, but it’s very clear that he’s in charge. 

He’s having a discussion with the recording engineer about where he wants to punch in and you’re trying to follow along, when he stands and walks towards the booth.

And in all the hustle and the paperwork and the late plane and the HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI IS RIGHT FREAKING THERE, you forgot one important detail. 

You’re going to watch him record. 

But staring at him walking into the booth means you’ve missed the decision they made on the punches. 

Damn it. You need to pull it together right now. If you keep freaking out every time this dude breathes, you’re going to miss what you really came here for. 

So while he’s rapping, you’re watching the engineers and what they’re doing. Listening and taking note on the direction the producer gives for each take. 

And you’re so focused on it that when he comes out of the booth you don’t hear him call your name the first time. 

He says it again and he and the recording engineer are staring at you. 

“Come here, look at this.”

You stand up, ignoring the looks you’re getting from everyone. You don’t even want to think about whether or not they know who you are or why he asked you here. Actually you don’t even know why. But you do know something about producing and maybe you can contribute. 

He shows you the DAW and you recognize some of the instruments and track labels, but you’ve never seen one this complex before. 

“What do you think we should do with the main vocal?”

Uhhhhh. Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stupid. 

“If you want that kind of dreamy quality that the feature vocal has, running it through this might be a nice complement?” You point to one of the plugins and try to hold your hand as steady as possible. 

Yoongi just nods and the engineer makes some adjustments. 

“Hmmm. Okay.” 

They turn away, start talking about what filter to use. It’s a gentle dismissal and you awkwardly make your way back to the couch. But inside you’re beaming - it feels like you just passed some kind of test. 

They record drums next, take after take after take. Yoongi and the other producers start to look a little agitated as it goes on and on. And one of them asks for a dinner break, so the drummer can have a rest and reset.

At dinner, you chat with some of the camera crew and a make up artist who is there since they’re filming part of this studio session. And for a photoshoot Yoongi has tomorrow. 

Yoongi and the other HYBE producer don’t come to dinner. 

“Sometimes if they want to make some changes and not share, they’ll kick people out of the studio. Even if we turn our cameras off, they don’t want anyone to see what they’re doing.” 

When you’re all let back into the studio, it’s close to 10pm. Yoongi actually looks even more irritated than he did before, he and the engineer are having an intense exchange over the click track meter. 

“What if you switched it to 1/8th time?” You interject as you take your seat on the couch. 

They all stop and look at you. 

Oh. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You forgot one of the ground rules: Don’t speak unless spoken to. 

The head producer looks at you like your suggestion caused him physical pain. And Yoongi’s face is impassive, but he gives his head a little shake before turning back to the producer and continuing their discussion. 

Your face heats and you try to hold back tears as you sink lower into the couch. 

Well. It was a good run. You learned a lot and are now fully expecting security to come and escort your imposter ass off the property. 

Yoongi asks for a coffee break soon after and you can’t get out of there fast enough. 

You rush down the hall, trying to make it to the restroom without looking like you’re running away crying. Which you kind of are. 

You sit on the floor of the stall and put your face in your hands and the travel and the papers and the adrenaline and your stupid mistake just pour out.

What are you even doing here? Why did you think you could handle this? You barely know what’s expected of you or how to act. And now you’ve messed up. 

Your phone is blowing up and you don’t want to even look in case it’s someone asking you to leave. 

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: That was a good suggestion [22:36]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: But never do that again [22:36]

YOU: Understood [22:38]

Another wave of emotion clenches in your chest. This is the first text he’s sent you since the video conference. And damn it. This is not how you want this to go.

You open your phone again to call an Uber and text Yoongi an apology—

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: We started [22:42]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: You’re late [22:42]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: Again [22:42]

You sit for a few more minutes until your breathing slows and the tears stop. 

Because Yoongi is not what matters here. Really. 

He is just another person in that room you have the absolute insane luck to learn from. An out of this world, devastatingly beautiful person. But still, a person nonetheless. 

This is about you. And you owe it to yourself to make the most of it. 

Because if nothing else, even if you’re sent packing. Even if you never see or speak to Yoongi again. Even if they revoke your ARMY membership that you’ve had since the 2014 NYC KCON, these few hours in the studio have confirmed one thing: how badly you want this. How much you want to keep making music. How much you love this whole process. And the end result. Regardless of who else is in the studio, you want to be there, too. 

You hastily wipe your eyes and all but sprint down the hall back to the studio. 

——

You sleep late the next morning and then go for a long run. You didn’t get back to the hotel til nearly 3am, but despite the late night you feel restless. The last 24 hours have been so much to process. 

Your whole day is free according to the itinerary, except for the basketball game tonight. Yoongi really did get you a ticket. Or someone did, you doubt Yoongi buys his own tickets to anything these days.

You get a coffee and take a cab to the beach and stand in the Pacific Ocean. The shock of the freezing water and the sound of the crashing waves brings you back to yourself. 

Last night was like an out of body experience, the only part that seemed connected to the reality you know was the music. The process. 

The reality where you were in the same room

as Yoongi for hours? That’s harder to grapple with. But also, you can (and have) spent so much time thinking about him, talking about him, singing along and screaming about him. You’d think you've gotten it all out of your system by now. And maybe you have. Maybe you can just go back to the studio tomorrow and just focus on yourself. 

You stay until your feet feel like blocks of ice. And then you sit on the beach and stare at this force of nature, just out of its reach, til you’re warm enough to walk away. 

——

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: I’m done early 

Want to see the haegeum trick? [14:22]

YOU: Yes where? [14:23]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: Meet at the hotel? [14:23]

YOU: Okay I can be back in 30? [14:23]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: Back? Where are you now? [14:25] 

YOU: The tar pits [14:26]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: The what? [14:26]

YOU: The LaBrea Tar Pits? [14:27]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: ??? [14:27]

YOU: It was in the itinerary as a tourist destination for today [14:29]

After the beach you’d wandered to the Tar Pits figuring you’ve been to many museums and stores and everything else on the suggested activities list. But you have never been next to a prehistoric tar pit. 

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: You read the itinerary? [14:30]

YOU: Yes? [14:31]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: You left the hotel? Who does that? [14:31]

Oh, should you have not done this? 

YOU: Looks like I do? [14:33]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: Well then. Maybe I should too. I’ll be there in 10 [14:33]

YOU: okay, see you soon [14:34]

You hope this reply gives casual vibes, because that is definitely not how you feel right now. It’s one thing to banter with him over text, but you now know, it’s much harder when you’re looking at his face in person. 

You linger around the edge of the tar pits. It really just is a giant open space in the middle of downtown LA. And boy is the smell strong. And there are three statues of wooly mammoths? Maybe you can’t tell. But one is stuck in the mud and looks like it’s in pain. This really is so odd—

“What the hell is wrong with that furry dinosaur?” A tap on your shoulder and a low voice startles you a bit. 

It’s him. He’s in a cap, mask, dark jacket and jeans. His face is bare, but there are some slight smudges beneath his eyes, maybe make up from the shoot, or the late night recording. 

You wonder how anyone ever gets used to being around him. Because you sure have not in the last 24 hours.

This Yoongi is different, his clothes, his demeanor. He doesn’t have that air of command about him, that slight remove that he did last night. But that doesn’t put you at ease in the slightest.

Even if he just seems like a regular man standing next to you. He's still him and you’re still you, and no amount of oceanside introspection is going to make that feel like truly level ground. 

He takes the mask off and gives you a small smile that quickly turns into a look of horror. 

“Oh woah with it off, this smell! It’s like—”

“Tar?” You deadpan and look right at him. 

He rolls his eyes and laughs, he looks so relaxed, it’s putting you more at ease. 

“Seriously though? That dinosaur really is kind of grim.” 

“Yeah. Is it a dinosaur? I think it’s an elephant?”

“There were never elephants in North America.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “Beats me, I was an economics major.”

“You’re a terrible tour guide,” he grins. 

“Me? I just got here!”

“Yeah but you read the itinerary, so you’re automatically more qualified than me.”

You just chuckle, the two of you walking along the fence towards the museum. 

“So what’s next in the itinerary?”

“We haven’t even been inside.”

“What else is there to know? Some wooly mammoths fell in. Too bad. Here are their smelly bones.” He shrugs. 

You snort out a laugh, he’s not wrong, this place is not really your jam. 

But surely he has something else to do? And someone more important to do it with? 

“I did want to go to Ameoba Records, dig through the crates a bit.” 

“Is that on the official schedule?” 

“Nope.” 

“Excellent, cause this place was not the move. But coffee first?”

——

Yoongi’s security person won’t let you sit in the cafe because the tables are too close together. He also says no to the sidewalk tables lest anyone driving down Wilshire Boulevard sees the shocking sight of Min Yoongi having an iced Americano with a woman.

So the two of you are strolling through Pan Pacific Park with your coffees. The security guy a few steps behind you.

It's actually helping you feel much more comfortable, like you’re two regular people out for a stroll. And Yoongi seems so relaxed. 

He’s currently, in a very animated fashion, telling you the story of how he found this vintage analog Echoboy in Tokyo, because he remembered you mentioning the VST.

But then his arm occasionally bumps yours and you try not to choke on your latte. 

You and your friends spend a lot of time in the GC screaming about Yoongi’s duality. And in person it’s even more pronounced. Because this person walking next to you, talking your ear off about music, is so vastly different from the cool, distant head producer you saw last night. Or from the idol you’ve thirsted after all these years. It’s hard to reconcile that they're all the same man. 

“What did you think of the studio?”

“It’s gorgeous, I’ve only been in one in my city a few times, it's nothing like this. I usually work on my stuff at home.”

“You seemed really comfortable yesterday, like it was familiar to you.”

You snort and stare at him. “Uhhh? Are you sure it was me you were looking at? I was nervous as hell.”

You don’t even have time to question if you should have admitted that when he responds:

“I am very sure I was looking at you.”

You very nearly inhale your coffee right into your lungs. That is one thing all the Yoongis have in common, it’s like they’re trying to kill you.

“Sometimes with new people, especially with multiple artists and producers and everyone. It’s a lot.”

“Well I’m glad I’m fooling someone that I know what I’m doing.”

Yoongi just hums in response and finishes his coffee and then pulls out his phone. 

“One of the guys was messing around with the drums last night, wanna hear?”

You nod and down your latte and pull your headphones out of your bag. 

“Oh! Did he add a sine wave base?” You shout over the beat in your ears and Yoongi laughs in response. Which you can hear perfectly clearly once you take your noise canceling headphones off one side.

Your face heats as he nods. “You can hear it?”

“The lower register is so rich, much more than the playback yesterday.”

“He sampled and looped it and—”

“Ran it through a bitcrusher and a saturation VST?”

Yoongi’s mouth drops open a bit before he responds. 

“Close, the studio has an analog saturation plugin.”

“Oooooh! Old school. I want to see that! I bet this place has all kinds of fun stuff to mess around with.”

He nods and plays it again. 

“You know you can get a similar effect if you take a bass guitar sample, run it through a processor and pair it with an oscillating sine wave.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth turns up a bit. “I actually had never heard that.”

“The more you know, Min!” You grin and skip ahead a bit to put your coffee cup in the trash bin, now fueled by caffeine and a tiny thrill that you just told Min PD even one new thing about music. 

——

“Records are my first love,” you whisper as you’re flipping through the ‘60s RnB selection at Ameoba.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my parents kept their turntables from the 70s and had all their records.”

The two of you are walking down the aisles, stopping when one of you sees something that catches your eye. Yoongi already has a few tucked under his arm. 

“I saved and saved in high school to buy my own so I could DJ on them.”

“Technics?” 

“1200s. Of course.” You smile but your eyes are still skimming the records. 

Yoongi is trying to stay a respectful and reasonable distance from you. Primarily, he really can’t risk being seen with anyone. His security guy is a few aisles over and gave both of you a quick briefing before coming in here: don’t stand too close, Yoongi has to wear his mask at all times. 

But you’re speaking so softly in the quiet store. He wants to be closer to hear you. And when you talk about music, same as the video call, to see the way your face lights up. 

Even yesterday in the studio, you seemed so apprehensive, but whenever he asked, whenever he tested your knowledge a bit, you were spot on. And if he’s being honest with himself, it’s really, really attractive.

“So when I’d saved about half, my mom took me into the city to go record shopping. We took the train and I brought her to the East Village thinking I was so cool.”

You shake your head at the memory as you wander over to the 1970s bins near the front window. 

“I didn’t actually get anything but my mom got—ah ha here it is…”

You hold up a copy of Linda Ronstadt’s Greatest Hits Volume 1.

Yoongi chuckles and moves a little closer.

He should not want to wrap his arm around your hip and hold you so he can look over your shoulder at this record. 

No. He should definitely not want to do that. 

“I don’t know this artist.”

“She's pretty amazing actually. Well, I think that now. At the time, I was mortified that my mom picked something so lame. Until a guy working there said it was one of his favorite albums and they talked for like ten minutes about Linda Ronstadt.”

You flip it over and open the dust cover. “So now I look for it in every record store.”

Yoongi just hums in response, moves behind you and plucks it out of your hands and adds it to his stack. He steps away quickly and stands near the poster covered window to keep you from taking it back. 

“Hey!” You’re grinning. 

He just shrugs, “I always want to listen to new things.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still smiling. It gets even wider when you look a little behind him. You pull your phone out. 

“Smile!”

“Huh?” He’s so confused as you snap the photo. 

He turns around and right behind him is a poster for Proof.

“What kind of show-off poses in front of the poster for his own album?” You whisper, shaking your head, even though the store is basically empty, and start cracking up as you walk away, heading to the EDM section. 

He rolls his eyes, low key glad you can’t see the size of the grin on his face, and follows you.

——

“How do you know I didn’t play it?” Yoongi is teasing you as he swipes the keycard for his hotel room. 

“Please. I saw you on Fallon, I know cause it doesn’t sound like a dying cat screeching on your track.”

“Hey! That is a traditional instrument!”

“Yeah, it’s amazing, but I’m not the one who butchered it on television.”

He’s laughing, “Fine, fine.”

He pulls out his laptop and puts it on the coffee table, there isn’t room for two people at the desk and the only other spot aside from the couch in this room is the bed. 

He looks over and your eyes are on the floor, like you’re trying to not be too intrusive. It’s endearing. It’s so different from the way most women behave when they come into his hotel room. They’re usually doing some kind of seduction calculus on how quickly they can get him into bed. 

Though, sharing production secrets is usually not what entices most women into his hotel room. 

This is such an odd situation, even for him. 

He wants to make you comfortable, just like you’ve been with him all afternoon. 

“Here, come sit, I’ll just get my laptop. Do you want anything to drink?”

You shake your head and look relieved to have a place to go, sitting carefully on the couch and putting your hands in your lap.

He opens his laptop and pulls up Logic.

“Okay, so I already had it downloaded, but then ran it through this and that let me manipulate the pitch and the key.”

“Interesting, did you try anything else before this?” Your shoulders have dropped a bit, relaxing into familiar territory. 

“A few things, but I’d done this before and it worked.”

He’s trying to keep a straight face, cause you are not going to like the next part. 

“But then, how did you—”

He shakes his head and closes his computer.

“I just told you I’d show you how I got the sound. And I did.”

Your mouth drops open. “Min Yoongi! You’re not going to tell me how you mixed it?!”

He shakes his head, and oh he is loving the look on your face right now. He feels a little bad, but he can’t just give away all of his secrets to you. At least not yet. 

“You’ll have to figure it out, just like I did.”

He shrugs, a smug little smirk on his face. 

You stare at him. 

“I cannot believe you. You are literally the meanest person I’ve ever met.”

“I probably am. But I still won’t tell you how I did it, so...” He shrugs as you crinkle your nose. “Oh no, I already know that face. I will not cave to you again.”

Your eyes widen like you’ve just won some kind of prize. Oh now he’s given too much away, even a little hint that he might be affected by you is ceding ground.  

“Again, huh?” You cross your arms and look him up and down. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You just laugh and give him a playful push with your shoulder. 

“I still can’t believe I’m even here, let alone that you even showed me this. Especially after yesterday…”

Your face falls a bit at that, Yoongi has to think for a beat about what you’re even talking about. 

“Hey.”

He places a hand on your arm and for some reason it just feels so good to touch you. It soothes an ache he’s had all day. 

“You didn’t know and now you do. And believe me when I tell you, it was a lot better than the first time I made that mistake.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“That meter change suggestion was really clever. I think PD nim was a little irritated that he didn't think of it first.”

He’s so close to you now. His hand is still on your arm. 

This is dangerous territory.

“Give yourself some more credit.”

You huff out a laugh, “Don’t patronize me, Min. It was unprofessional.”

“You know your shit. More than you think you do.”

“You’re saying that to be nice.” You give him a side eye glance.

“I never give compliments I don’t mean.”

“Yoongi…”

His fingers are tracing little circles on your arm. He didn’t even realize he was doing that. 

You glance down to where he’s touching you, and you lean toward him just a fraction more. 

“Can I kiss you?” The words come out before he realizes what he’s saying. 

You nod and he leans down, but it’s you who closes the gap. 

It only makes him like you more.

And it might be his favorite first kiss, so unexpected but inevitable, the energy between you feels like it’s effervescent, buzzing and fizzing along his body. 

And it just is. You want him and he wants you. 

He traces a gentle pattern down your cheek. His hands on you are as sure and deft as they were in the control room yesterday. 

He strokes along your jaw as you open up for him, he just wants to breathe you in. 

The kiss deepens and your hands become more insistent, moving to his chest, through his hair, under his jaw. Like you're mapping out his face with your fingertips. 

He cradles your head in one hand and grips your thigh with the other and you whimper. And he wishes you were in the studio now so he could record that and play it whenever he feels lonely or less than. Because you wanting him right now, wanting just Yoongi, makes him feel like he’s soaring. 

He guides your leg over his and you straddle him, hands gripping his t-shirt. 

“Fuck you’re just so…” He grabs your hips and pulls you closer towards him. You giggle in response and he hums, kissing across your skin. 

He pulls you closer, both hands on the soft curve of your hips, sliding under your shirt, turning something slow and sweet up to a simmer. 

He nips a really sensitive spot and jolt against him, drawing out a deep moan when you sink a little lower. 

He does it again, his teeth grazing across your neck. You lose your balance and press your whole hand into his left shoulder. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, did I—? Your bad shoulder?”

He’s breathing so heavily, his hands holding your hips, caressing them. His lips look kiss bitten, plump and slick. From you.

You can feel how hard he is. For you. 

But his eyes are wide, a look of concern that doesn’t match the way his heart pounds under your fingertips. 

“No, it’s fine. How did you…”

Realization washes over his face. Why you know this about him. How he asked you here in the first place. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I don’t know—maybe we shouldn’t—”

The feel of his lips is replaced by searing embarrassment spreading across your face. 

“Oh. Of course. I’ll just—”

You let go of his shirt, the soft cotton marred where you pulled on it. 

His hands are slower to let go, fingertips still gripping your curves until you move to stand.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

You turn around and head for the door, you need to get out of here before the flood of tears bursts out. What were you even thinking? Kissing him? 

What were you going to do? Fuck Min Yoongi? Not a chance. 

You look back and Yoongi is standing by the couch now, his fingertips pressed to his lips.

“I—I signed everything. All the paperwork. Pretty sure I’ve promised to give you my first born and a handful of beans, if I even tell anyone I met you.” You let out an awkward laugh. You must look so silly with your shirt half untucked and wrinkled, marks on your neck.

You’re trying to pull your shoe on, but it needs to be untied and you can’t deal with it right now because if you can’t leave in the next five seconds you are going to scream.

“No one would believe me anyway.”

He says your name. His voice is so low you don’t hear it at first over the ringing in your ears.

He says it again, moving closer. 

“Please wait. I didn’t mean—”

“I didn’t come here to throw myself at you, Yoongi. I thought—I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know what you think I’m thinking.” 

You huff out a little laugh, still trying to get your shoe on. How did you think you were somehow above your attraction to him? That this was just about music. Or somehow reciprocal, that you were on level ground with him. In any way.

He’s closer now. He could reach out and take your hand. But he doesn’t. 

He says your name one more time. 

“Why did you ask me here?” You stand up and face him, crossing your arms to bring some comfort to your racing, aching heart. “Am I just some slightly more interesting groupie?”

“What? No. Of course not.“ 

“Then what? Why me?”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Okay. This is great. I need to go.” You finally get your shoe on and turn to leave.

“You were like a spark. Especially that day.” 

You turn back and stare at him. 

He takes a breath in, his brow creased. 

“You just lit everything up, like you could set it all on fire. And I wanted to see that happen. To see more of you. So I didn’t think…I  just asked.” 

“Did you want me to actually be here?”

“Yes, I did. I still do. I just can’t act on this when I’m—we’re not—”

“Not what? Friends? Equals?”

He clears his throat and says your name again. 

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it? I thought today maybe I was just me and you were just you. But you…” Your voice cracks and you wince, absolutely hating this feeling. “God, I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not. I’m—didn’t bring you here for this. I didn’t expect…”

“To want me too?”

He just stares and nods. “Yeah.” He shoves his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I think I should go…”

He just nods. “Right. I’ll see you tonight.”

Take a deep breath and let it out. 

You open the door and leave. 

——

Your Lakers seat that night is not courtside but a few rows back. They are still completely insane. The energy of the crowd and being so close to the players, it helps distract you from whatever happened this afternoon. 

You even manage to stop thinking about the way his hand felt on your thigh for a few minutes. Or the way he rejected you because he was too into you? You don’t even know. And churning in these thoughts alone in your hotel room was not making you feel any better.

Yoongi arrives separately right before the start of the game. 

He’s just a man, you remind yourself. He’s not—

The photographers turn to watch him, people in the stands stare. They show him on the jumbotron and the screams are like a BTS concert. 

There is a reason for all this. His fame and attention. He just burns so brightly all the time. You know that now. Even when he seems so normal, you can’t even get close.

He doesn’t look back towards your seat. 

You check your neck in the bathroom mirror at halftime, the concealer is still covering the small mark he left. 

It feels better to be sitting behind him. Like this is where you should be. The barrier between you is back up and that’s a good thing. A very good thing. Even a few rows back still feels like flying a little too close to the sun.

——

The next day, Yoongi isn’t on the bus to the studio for the final day of the session. He’s there when you arrive, already working at something.

Deep breath, you’re here for a reason. 

You’re here for yourself. 

You walk into the room first, the camera crew had more gear to unload, the other producers were chatting in the lobby with their coffees. 

He stands slowly and looks at you with apprehension. 

He hasn’t had any makeup for filming today. He’s in his regular clothes, not the slick Valentino he had on at the game. His hair is soft and sticking up a bit more on one side. 

“Hi.” You cautiously smile at him. It’s just the sight of him. For a second, everything else is suspended and you just can’t help it. Min Yoongi always makes you smile. 

“Hi.” He smiles back, almost relieved. He looks like he’s just Yoongi standing in front of you.

“I’m sorry.”

His sudden, personal admission in the studio takes you by surprise.

“Oh. I—”

The other producers walk in and Yoongi turns to greet them, his transition into professional mode is seamless. This is also something you’re learning by being here, watching him make that switch is unreal. 

He briefly looks back at you, his expression almost pained. 

Ah. So maybe it’s not as easy as he just made it seem. 

The head producer also looks at you and nods in greeting. And you nearly fall off the couch. Maybe Yoongi was right and you didn’t totally screw up the other day.

Yoongi plays the track again to reorient the room and looks back, gesturing with his head for you to come forward.

You stand and walk towards the console, but stand a bit behind him. 

When the track is done, he turns and says your name.  

“We left off on the bridge, where should we start?”

You take a step closer, the other producers are staring at you, you push everything aside. You know exactly what to do. 

“Okay, let’s start with…”

——

The session only runs a few hours and everyone piles into the bus afterwards. Yoongi is chatting with one of the camera people in the front row and when you arrive back at the hotel and by the time you make it to the lobby he’s already gone. 

You walk past them and go upstairs. Your flight leaves tonight and you need to pack. 

But all you actually do is lie on the bed, spiral a little bit over his interrupted apology and when or where or how or IF you’ll say goodbye to Yoongi, and fall asleep. 

——

You’re jolted awake by your phone ringing, disoriented from napping sitting up. Your mom is the only person who calls you, so you’re instantly worried it’s some kind of emergency.

“Hello?”

“Yes, hello, I’m calling from HYBE Music Publishing. We want to invite you to our next round of songwriting camp in Seoul. I have sent the details to your email but wanted to congratulate you and see if you are willing to verbally commit to the offer?”

You are too stunned to respond. 

“Hello? Ms.—”

“Yes. Hi. Hello. I’m sorry, can you repeat that, please?”

——

YOU: You didn’t have to do this [15:23]

YOU: It is too much, I don’t know if I can accept it [15:23]

HOLY SHIT MIN YOONGI: Accept what? [15:26]

You really need to change his contact, you’re cringing at yourself. 

YOU: <screenshot of songwriting camp contract> [15:28]

MIN YOONGI: I didn’t do this. It’s not even my team. [15:32]

You sigh and put your phone down and your face in your hands. 

There’s a knock at your door. 

You open the door to a sleepy-looking Yoongi in sweats and an oversized t-shirt. 

“Can I come in? I shouldn’t be in the hallway. Cameras.”

You nod and let him in and he stands next to the bed. There’s no fancy couch in this room. 

“I passed your SoundCloud to someone in central A&R.”

“What? You…listened to it? How?”

“Uhhh, you put it on the internet? And I needed some way to confirm I wasn’t crazy for asking you here.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just helped you skip the line a bit. The rest is all you.”

“Yoongi…” Tears swell and you brush them away. The last few days. This offer. Him. It’s all just so overwhelming. 

He looks like he wants to move towards you. His hands flex at his sides, but he stays where he is. 

“I was an ass yesterday. And I’m so sorry.”

“You were.”

“And I didn’t push this forward to apologize or out of guilt. I did it weeks ago because you’re good.” 

You just nod, blowing out a deep breath. 

“And, if I’m honest with myself, I think that is really fucking hot.”

Your mouth drops open. “But you’re really fucking hot.”

“Ha! Well. Glad we’re on the same page with that. I just didn’t want to take advantage of—and we were working together—”

“Yoongi, I’m an adult and I willingly went into your hotel room. And I kissed you because I wanted to. Not because you gave me this opportunity, not because you’re famous, not because you look—actually part of it is cause you look like this, I’m not gonna lie.” 

He smiles and looks at the ground. He glances back up and it is devastating.

“If anyone is taking advantage here, it’s me. I get a lot more out of this than you do.”

“I am pretty great. But that’s not entirely true.”

You snort a laugh and lean against the wall. He moves towards you but doesn’t reach out. 

“Did I totally ruin things? With you?”

“With me!?” You look at him like he’s insane. “You can have anyone you want.”

“Yeah. I know. And I want you.”

The air between you stills, you might have stopped breathing. You may never need air again. 

“What if you did?”

He lets out a breath, like he was holding it. 

“Then if we work together again, I’ll know that I helped train the best.” His tone is so even, almost matter of fact, but he looks so…hopeful?

“And you’ll really never know what I did on Haegeum.”

“Yoongi!” 

He’s laughing as you place your arms on his shaking shoulders, hands tangling in his soft hair. 

“It’s not. It’s not ruined.”

“Hmmm, good. What should we do about it then?” 

“Run the track again? Then start at the bridge?”

He grins and leans you against the wall, pressing his body into yours. 

And kisses you. Again and again and again. 

——- TWO DAYS LATER ——

YOONGI💜🎙️: So. Are you coming to Seoul? 

YOU: Dude. This contract isn’t from you. What are you even offering me?

You accepted the verbal offer and signed the day you got it, you just hadn’t told him yet. It was more fun to watch him sweat a bit. 

YOONGI💜🎙️: I’ll let you observe in my studio

YOU: Been there. Done that. 

YOONGI💜🎙️: …

YOU: Ok, see you never, Min! 

You toss your phone in your bed, biting your lip to hold back your grin, and head to the shower. 

The two of you have texted or talked everyday since you got back. He sends you pictures of his cat and Holly, links to eBay auctions for equipment, and random song links, including this one Linda Ronstadt remix that kind of slaps? 

It’s just—and he’s just—you stopped trying to put a name on it. Right now, it’s more than enough. 

When you get back, you have one message from him that you never thought you’d see. The most unreal in an already unbelievable scenario. 

YOONGI💜🎙️: I’ll let you drive. 

“Oh sh—”

Your phone drops out of your hand and narrowly misses your foot as it hits the floor. Your hands are shaking as you respond. 

YOU: Go on. 

YOONGI💜🎙️: One hour a week. Your stuff. 

“Fu—I—” You’re talking outloud, the Koya stuffie on your bed is the only one listening. And you don’t even think it would believe this conversation. You barely do. 

YOU: I’ll see if I can make room on my itinerary 

YOONGI💜🎙️: I know you’ll find a way to fit me in  

You blink really hard. And then bury your face in your hands and let out a sound you didn’t even think was possible. 

YOU: You wish

YOONGI💜🎙️: I really do

YOU: Fine. But if you’re working for me, don’t be late

YOONGI💜🎙️: I wouldn’t dare

YOU: And you’re going to play the Moonlight instrumental version for me 

YOONGI💜🎙️: R u kidding me? Not a chance? 

YOU: I will make the face at you and you’ll cave

YOONGI💜🎙️: I will not

YOU: You will

YOONGI💜🎙️: No

YOONGI💜🎙️: Well

YOONGI💜🎙️: Not yet

YOU: I win

YOONGI💜🎙️: I think you have the wrong number 

YOU: ha! See you soon Mr. Min

——

Banner by 👑 @kithtaehyung

A:N2: Thank you for reading, you can send an ask here!

And if you’re not familiar with the LaBrea Tar Pits - it is 1) quite literally a pit of tar in the middle of LA, 2) these are the sculptures(?) at the edge of it that Yoongi and OC see