Work Header

Night Channels

Chapter Text

Yoongi was surprised to see he was the only member of BTS invited to the meeting. A few people from management and a man he vaguely remembered as a numbers-and-trends guy sat in the small boardroom, all business casual, all equipped with a tactical clicky pen and stack of stapled memos. They waved him in, and he sat at the opposite end of the boardroom table, arms tucked into his hoodie pocket.

“Yoongi-ssi, thank you for joining us,” the meeting team lead, a Kwon Sangchul, started. Yoongi hadn’t worked with Sangchul much in the past, but his vague impression was “tall, serious, and effective,” so Yoongi nodded and gave a small, accommodating smile as they organized their notes—as if he had a choice.

When everyone was ready to begin, Sangchul took his place in front of the room’s presentation screen, hands folded primly in front of him. He began: “In light of the upcoming Bangtan tour to Japan, the tour management has been brainstorming a unique type of show to add to the usual line-up of concert stages, musters, fan-meetings, etc.”

Yoongi straightened in his seat and hummed aloud to signal his attention, surprised and relieved that this solo meeting wasn't to single him out or chastise him for some mistake or shortcoming. He'd been tired lately—weak and lethargic—and the fans were noticing. He'd fully expected a shrink, nutritionist, and cache of vitamins when he'd stepped through the boardroom doors. But no, this was something else.

"Lately, we’ve been looking into a type of event that some Japanese groups organize. They’re quite popular with devoted fans, often unique and often secret—no recording allowed. We'd like to try this exclusive event type with BTS while abroad, and possibly bring it back to Korea."

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully, intrigued. He’d heard of this concert style; bands and performers would book a concert under a pseudonym, no announcements, no promotions, counting on vigilant fans to discover them and spread the word.

Sangchul paced idly at the head of the table as he continued to explain. "Normal tickets are selling without issue, but for these secret lives we would like to try smaller, more intimate gatherings to cater to more invested fans.”

With more expensive tickets.

“And in order to create demand and fervor for these events, we’ve devised a… tactic.”

Yoongi just kept nodding along, waiting for the moment it would be clear why he was here (and here alone). Inwardly, he wasn’t exactly sure how they planned to pull off adding more concert dates to a tour only three weeks out, but he sincerely hoped it wouldn't be infringing on the mid-tour vacation time they’d planned for. It was the only thing keeping him going through the endless rehearsals and practices and strained muscles and language tutoring.

“This new tactic stems from our recent analysis of fan trends and interests in BTS beyond specific members, songs, and dances.”

“Ok...” Yoongi said, resisting the urge to tell Sangchul to get to the point.

“We’ve been looking at… interpersonal trends lately—”

There it is.

“Fan-service?” Yoongi posited bluntly. He didn’t care for Sangchul’s imprecise language, and hoped that his frankness could get them to the crux of the meeting faster. (He’d just spent three hours with his Japanese tutor and had a promo photo shoot later in the day that he’d like to nap before attending. He was fucking tired and just wanted to stop having to think).

The numbers-and-trends guy stood up to take over. “Correct. We began accumulating our data several months ago, following fancafe posts, award ceremonies, interviews, and Vlive releases. We have found overwhelming surges of interest in particular areas.”

Yoongi frowned, leaning forward, chin in hand as the man worked to project a graph on the screen behind them.

“There has always been a fan-service element,” Yoongi mused out loud, voice low. It was an essential part of performing, of being an idol, even for the members of a much more autonomous BTS. They’d never done anything ridiculous, but it was enough to push his personal boundaries on occasion—boundaries he’d put quite a bit of time and effort into establishing.

“Generally, yes,” the staffer continued. “And perhaps, generally only.”

A graph appeared behind the management members, showing two continuously growing sets of data points. Two cut-out faces decorated the y side of the graph, his and—

“Jiminie?” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes. This graph shows a combination of search data, mentions, and posts over the past month. You can see that the recent growth in your activity coincides heavily with growth in Park Jimin’s.”

Yoongi blinked, and the numbers guy advanced a slide. It showed the same graph, this time populated with the data points of all seven BTS members, and Yoongi immediately felt uneasy for having seen it.

“You can see that other members have fairly consistent rises and falls. All follow unique paths... except for yours and Jimin’s, which currently escalate and fall—well, mostly escalate—at the same pace.”

It was true, and recently his and Jimin’s little head cutouts had soared above the others. Yoongi’s eyes traced the trend lines, which curved unreasonably high.

Click, another slide.

“This chart is the cause for us bringing you in here today.”

This slide showed a graph of pairs of BTS members, some members repeated, that formed lines with little mountain peaks and valleys in high variation. At the present moment though, on the top—way on the top, far above the others—was Suga and Jimin.

“And… what caused that peak at the end?” Yoongi asked, pointing to the most recent escalation in his and Jimin’s associated popularity.

“It started with a Run episode.” The numbers guy clicked to the next slide as if he’d predicted Yoongi’s question.

A short video played of a game he and Jimin had been partners on. It had been extremely competitive, and Jimin had clinched the win for ‘Team Baepsae’ at the last moment with an unbeatable limbo move. In Yoongi’s excitement, he had run up behind Jimin, circled his arms around Jimin’s waist and lifted him into the air. Jimin’s surprise caused them to fall quickly, but Yoongi had held on, laughing, curling around the other as they squirmed in triumph on the ground.


“And then, this video.”

It showed the backstage before a concert. Hoseok was centered in the foreground of the frame, talking, but off to the back and to his left one could see Yoongi and Jimin sitting sideways on a bench. Jimin’s arms were wrapped around Yoongi from behind, chin resting on his shoulder as he, invisible to the viewer, showed Yoongi a video on his phone.

“And then…”

Yoongi massaged his forehead.

In the practice room, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Taehyung were goofing around, practicing a part in the foreground of the video. Against the wall, hardly visible, Yoongi was sitting and looking down at Jimin, who had his head in Yoongi’s lap. The elder was running his hand over the top of Jimin’s head idly; they were talking. They’d been working hard that day—that week—and Jimin’s knees had given out. Yoongi had given up his lap so that Jimin could continue to watch the choreographer while resting. It had been selfless on his part, really.

Still, Yoongi shrank in his seat, embarrassed by the videos and how odd it felt to be shown them, alone in a boardroom with management like they were showing him evidence of a crime. Wasn’t it normal to take care of his dongsaeng? But they weren’t unhappy about it, showed evidence of how the fans liked it, so—

“We want more.” Oh.


Sangchul nodded. “We have plans to create a fervor around these secret lives, and would like you to increase your interactions with Jimin in order to do so.”

“I…” The fans wanted to see him interact with Jimin more? No—they wanted his interactions with Jimin to be more. Yoongi almost laughed. Casual fan-service was one thing, but their management sanctioning and encouraging it, that…

What the fuck does ‘more’ mean?

“You want me to manufacture a relationship with Park Jimin?” Yoongi asked, one side of his mouth curling up at the comedy of it. He had the urge to scoff in petulant dismissal, but the matter of fact tone of the meeting made it seem as though he didn't have much choice.

Sangchul and the numbers guy blinked at him for a moment. “Well, an illusion of one, but no—not at first. Not yet. We’d like you to move slowly so that we can watch the fan reception. We have plans for how things will play out in these secret lives, but how you handle the exposure leading up to those lives will be up to you.”

Yoongi chuckled dryly, hiding his face in his hands, and they gave him a moment to think things over. The worst part was that he couldn’t think of any immediate arguments against it, excluding the intrusion on his own autonomy and boundaries. What did those matter in the face of concert revenue?

Most of his internal monologue was panic and dread as he tried to tease out what exactly ‘more’ meant, what they wanted from him, where this would end up. When he finally looked up, Yoongi pointed to the projected graph. “Why not Taehyung and Jeongguk? Their popularity is more consistent, they have chemistry, and are close friends. Why not them? Why not Taehyung and Jimin?”

Sangchul steepled his fingers. “We considered it, Yoongi-ssi. In the end, we thought it best that an elder, mature member be an administrator of the plan. In the event of this tactic failing, you of all Bangtan members will be able to move on from this easily, to end it cleanly and maturely as if it hadn’t happened. Also, your blunt nature means that if you have to deny allegations, you will be more likely to be believed. With Taehyung and Jeongguk or Taehyung and Jimin, exposure of this sort could possibly hurt their friendship, or worse: spiral out of control.”

Yoongi blinked, taken aback. The amount of analysis they’d seemingly done unnerved him. He figured there was more to the clinical assessment though, another reason why Yoongi had been chosen—another reason why the harmless videos had caused a stir. Had Yoongi been replaced with any of the other members in those videos, especially the three maknae, no fan would have batted an eyelash. But because he was Min Yoongi, because he wasn’t prone to skinship, he was the perfect candidate.

“But you agree that this ‘tactic’ will cause problems? That this will probably end in disaster?” Yoongi groused eventually, nonplussed, rustling his hair in agitation. “How far are you planning on taking this?”

Sangchul moved forward to lean against the table next to Yoongi, too close for his comfort. “Like we said: it depends on fan perception. We know you can be uncomfortable with these kinds of displays. However, we also know how dedicated you are to the group, to success, to ARMY. We know your work ethic, Yoongi. We believe that if you look at this project as an assignment, as a path to further success, you will be able to overcome it.”

Yoongi blinked, decidedly shocked. They really saw this as a business tactic, as an “interpersonal strategy”. And he, somehow, was the perfect candidate for it. The fans knew he didn’t have a penchant for wanton fan-service. If he started now, with only one member, it would seem more genuine. The fans would watch the real-time drama plotline of the stony-faced, detached member of BTS developing feelings for the ever-shining Jimin…

Yoongi sank further into his seat. More than his own tactic for potentially convincing people of this, he was worried about what the management had in store for these so-called secret lives.

They clicked forward to the next slide.

Yoongi never got his nap; he wasn’t free again until just minutes before their promo shoot was slated to begin. He showered quickly in-company and entered the dressing area long after the other members had finished. He sat down to be blow-dried while the rest of BTS loitered, already dressed and ready to go.

Namjoon leaned against the busy counter in front of Yoongi as one of the coordi noona styled his hair. “Why so late?” Namjoon asked, smoothing the front of his jacket. This shoot was apparently a bit more street than they’d been doing recently—Namjoon was wearing a thick Supreme bomber jacket in muted pink and green, with minimal makeup.

“I had a meeting about the tour,” Yoongi answered, sighing.

Namjoon nodded knowingly, speaking in a low tone, “The secret lives? Yeah.”

Yoongi reached down to squeeze his sore thighs, speaking discreetly. “They could have started prepping me earlier, they must have started planning these lives a long fucking while ago. I doubt you can book a venue like Namba Hatch or Club Citta three weeks in advance.”

Namjoon nodded but didn’t continue speaking further as other members approached.

“Hyung, did you fall asleep?” Hoseok teased, making a face that Yoongi couldn’t respond to, head still while the coordi noona applied his subtle eyeliner. Even after he was freed he chose to ignore the jab, instead scanning the mirror for the other members chatting idly behind him. When he finally found Jimin his stomach dove, the reality of his new challenge finally there in physical form.

Nerves? He chided himself. This was going to be easy. Jimin was possibly the most handsy of all of the members, the most comfortable with physical contact and affection. It would be effortless, natural for him. If Yoongi had been tasked to do this with Namjoon, or—well, most other members... That would have been worthy of nerves.


They dressed him in a soft pink hoodie under a black leather jacket, the knees of his tight black jeans ripped. As soon as he was ready around 19:00, the members assembled and a production manager explained the shoot as they piled into two vans.

It was a night shoot in metro Seoul, with a “Date Night—imagine you’re out with friends and about to meet your girlfriend” theme. Locations had been previously scouted, and the plan was to drop into location, spend five minutes taking as many shots in as many poses as possible, and leave before any sort of crowd could form.

Because of the nature of this hit and run style shoot, only four staffers came along. Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok, a photographer, and a manager were in one van. Jin, Taehyung, Jeongguk, another photographer, and another manager were in a second.

They set off, driving slowly through the crowded streets of Gangnam. Yoongi did his best to ignore Jimin sitting next to him, now all too hyper-aware, and peered steadfastly into the surrounding traffic, trying to come to terms with the fact that he'd been properly dropped into the deep end of this new “tactic.”

He needed a plan. Jimin wasn’t allowed to know anything about the secret lives yet, so it was all up to him.

Yoongi wracked his brain as they drove, but the only linear path he saw was continuing to do what they’d shown in the videos earlier, namely getting caught with Jimin in casual, could-be romantic situations. The less scripted it seemed, the more believable it would probably be.

They drove for what felt like an entire scenic tour of downtown Seoul. Yoongi wanted to sit back and rest, but the jittery tension in his arms and hands wouldn't let him—forced him to tap an unknown rhythm into his knees. He looked over at Jimin's folded hands, calm and professional. Yoongi envied his ignorance.

“First is RM and J-Hope!” the manager finally called into the back seat, and Yoongi almost jumped.

They pulled up on a tree-lined shopping avenue. There were lights strung in the trees, the storefront light cascading outward onto the sidewalk through tall windows… and it was quite fucking crowded.

“Please pose in front of the tree as directed. Five minutes!”

Yoongi heard Jimin laugh as Namjoon and Hoseok scrambled out from the back of the van, pushing past Yoongi in their hurry to get out and into position. Curious, Yoongi leaned over Jimin to look out the side window, watching in amusement as Hoseok and Namjoon tried to thread through the crowd innocuously. Stealth was thrown out of the window as soon as the photographer followed them out, holding reflectors to properly light the two boys.

“This is crazy!” Jimin laughed, watching as Namjoon and Hoseok struck as many poses as possible, alternating between goofy, brooding, and debonair with gusto. In his excitement, Jimin pointed toward the boys with one hand, absentmindedly grabbing Yoongi’s forearm with the other, trying to make sure Yoongi had seen their latest pose.

Yoongi stared hard at where Jimin's hand covered his jacket. He agreed with Jimin outwardly but inwardly blanched. He really needed a plan. A convincing build up. Sappy scenes from dramas where unlikely duos came together to awkwardly realize their connection filled his head as he watched Jimin out of the corner of his eye, idly wondering how Jimin would react, if he'd even notice Yoongi's initiative.

He and Jimin hadn't been particularly close lately. They were busy. Outside of work, Jimin went out to socialize with other idols and friends, played games, and hung out with the other youngest BTS members. Yoongi was often busy writing, studying music, taking production meetings, too wrapped up in his own head or hobbies to take the initiative and spend personal time with the other members lately. His head was in the release of their next album, their next comeback, and in the primordial fragments of his next mixtape. (He'd had the itch to pull out headphones and fish for samples and ideas several times since the ride had started, but had stopped himself by rationalizing that being restless and miserably in the moment was more likely to help him with his Jimin problem.)

By the end of the five minutes, bystanders had started to slow and watch, trying to figure out what was going on among the group of four feverishly snapping photos. Some had even started to pull out their phones to take pictures. The manager quickly signaled the end of time, and the four hastily dove back into the van, driving off. Namjoon and Hoseok cackled in the back seat, flushed.

“That was fun!” Namjoon laughed, and Hoseok agreed.

“I wonder where we’re going next?” Jimin said, leaning forward in his seat as if he’d be able to preview their next destination through the van’s windshield.

The photographer in the front passenger’s seat was already looking through the recent shots on his laptop. “There are some good ones,” he laughed to the manager, who nodded.

After another bout of threading through traffic, the manager called, “Suga and RM!”. Jimin wished them good luck and Yoongi and Namjoon exited the van into a brightly lit alleyway filled with vending and gachapon machines.

They stood where the photographer had pointed, and Yoongi did his best to look cool and unaffected as he cycled poses. He leaned an arm against one of the machines, looking away from the camera for most of the shots as if watching and waiting for someone to come down the alley. They finished quickly, without drawing much attention, and climbed back into the van.

Yoongi didn’t pay much attention to the next few stops, focused on perusing music forums on his phone while members came and went in pairs. They hadn’t paired him with Jimin, at least not yet, so maybe this tactic was going to be more casual than he’d thought?

“Okay, this next shoot is going to be a bit loose,” the manager explained as they pulled into a parking spot in front of a street food market. “The four of you are going to walk the market, and we’re going to attempt to take candid photos of you all enjoying the food.”

The photographer laughed, “This one is going to be a lot more difficult for us, so please enjoy.”

Unlike the shopping avenue earlier, this plaza was decidedly more bare, close to closing time. There were only a couple groups of people, and only a few lines had formed in front of various stands. The two lines of food vendors were flanked by closed businesses and souvenir shops. Yoongi hoped they wouldn’t draw too much attention.

Here we go. He said an internal “Fighting!” (though it was admittedly weak-hearted) as he exited the van.

Once they were all out, Yoongi watched as Jimin made an instant beeline for the nearest tteokbokki stand. While Jimin waited in line, Yoongi ordered mandu from a queue-less stand and bought two lemonade pouches from another. He wound his way back to Jimin, who had been joined by Jeongguk (cradling knife-cut noodles). The maknae had been switched with Hoseok at some point—Yoongi hadn’t noticed.

Step #1: Single Jimin Out

“Aww, you didn’t get me one, hyung?” Jeongguk complained cutely as Yoongi offered his second lemonade to Jimin.

“No,” Yoongi dead-panned.

Jimin laughed brightly, preening, and took the lemonade with thanks.

Yoongi caught his eye with a smirk before leaning over to feed Jimin a dumpling. A few seconds later, he caught the location of the photographer around the edge of the stall and made a conscious step to stand closer to Jimin, taking a drink of his lemonade at the same time the other did.

Jimin took his attention as an in to chat with Yoongi, and the elder responded in kind, making all of the silly sarcastic comments he could to get Jimin giggling.


Namjoon arrived a few minutes later, carrying more bungeoppang than it looked safe for one person to hold. The tail end of one of the fish-shaped snacks stuck out from his mouth, and he paused cutely for the camera before finishing it.

“I couldn’t decide on a flavor,” he explained, head nodding to the pastries in his arms. Jeongguk bent toward him to read the individual wrappers earnestly. Namjoon had bought every flavor in the spectrum between sweet and savory, and the maknae snatched one before Namjoon could think to protest.

Once Jimin's orders of tteokbokki were ready, the four stood in a half circle next to the colorful food stand, crowded amid bright lights and smoke cascading from the open grills. Jimin fed Yoongi as thanks for the dumplings, forcing toothpick after toothpick of the rice cakes into Yoongi's mouth until he had to wag his hand in denial, cheeks full.

"Yah! Yah!" Yoongi laughed in protest, having to physically push Jimin away from him to stop Jimin from smearing sauce across Yoongi’s face in his attempt to feed him more. The other two laughed.

Messes diverted, they ate their street food and chatted animatedly, occasionally making some effort to actually pose in unison. Soon, they were finished with their snacks and ready to split off and walk the market.

As they were about to split, Yoongi was distracted by Jeongguk reaching in to carefully adjust his bangs. He wasn’t prepared for Jimin, armed with napkins, coming up to wipe the sauce from the corners of his mouth. Embarrassed, he tried not to overreact; he could practically hear the camera shutter snapping.

“Jimin-ah!” he complained, shrugging the younger man off.

“Do you want photos of your messy face to leak, hyung?” Jimin laughed in consolation, smile toothy. He was gone before Yoongi could reply though, whisked away by Jeongguk to check out a nearby souvenir shop.

Jimin and Jeongguk took photos of each other trying on various pairs of goofy sunglasses while Yoongi and Namjoon looked through the window of a closed shoe store, occasionally pointing out a pair they had or wanted. Soon, it was time to pile back into the van.

The car now smelling of the bungeoppang that they hadn’t been able to finish, they crossed the Han river near their new apartment and drove for ten more minutes, up onto a small road that overlooked the river and the highway that ran alongside it.

“Jimin and Suga!”

Yoongi’s stomach dropped in unwarranted surprise, and he felt a flash of anxious nerves fire from his shoulders to his hands.

“We’re stopping on a bridge. Please start in a crouched pose with your backs to the fence, then gradually work up into a standing pose. We’ll be taking a few long exposure shots, so please stay as still as possible when instructed!”

It was less of a bridge and more of an overpass, Yoongi thought as they finally pulled to a stop. The busy highway rumbled underneath them, the flow of head and tail lights a steady blur.

He and Jimin jumped out of the van quickly, making their way through pedestrians to stand side-by-side in front of the chain-link fence while the photographer got into position. They both crouched as instructed, heads tilted back, and—do it gradually, gradually—Yoongi grabbed the chain-link behind Jimin’s opposite shoulder, popping his collar with his free hand. They tilted their heads back for attitude and the photographer stood high above them to capture the stream of lights underneath, quickly snapping.

The photographer stepped back to the edge of the road and called “Hold!” before placing the camera on a tripod. They held the pose for several seconds, Yoongi and Jimin the only still people among the pedestrians streaming in front of the lens. “Ok!” the photographer yelled eventually, shot complete.

They moved to the next pose: the two of them leaning languidly, slouched against the chain link fence. This time, Yoongi laid his arm across Jimin’s shoulders, head cocked back. After a couple of shots, he felt Jimin’s arm snake around his waist, pulling him closer, and Yoongi almost sighed in relief, thankful that Jimin was a pro at this shit. It was nothing they hadn’t done before, but it would be so much easier for Jimin to just take the lead.


The third pose, Yoongi felt more daring. He wanted management to approve, wanted to be able to be as integrated and casual as the others could be.

Fuck nerves.

Standing straight up now, he pushed closer. While Jimin still faced forward to eye-fuck the camera straight on, Yoongi turned to the side. He pushed his face into the crook of Jimin’s neck, still visible to the camera. Arms around Jimin, he laced his fingers together above the younger’s hip.

Jimin tilted his head to touch Yoongi’s in that perfectly casual and natural way he could, and Yoongi could feel his own warm breath billowing there in the crook of Jimin’s neck. When they were told to hold, he gripped Jimin tightly to keep the pose steady. Yoongi could hear Jimin’s breathing above the din of the freeway and he focused on that until the photographer finished the shot.

The photographer looked like he was about to lower his camera and call it a wrap until he saw Jimin shift in place, starting a new pose. Jimin turned to face Yoongi, and Yoongi only had time for an internal ‘fuck’ before Jimin’s hand was loosely circling the back of his neck, other hand lifting Yoongi’s chin.

Yoongi froze, felt their belt buckles collide, and heard the photographer snapping again as Jimin looked into his eyes, expression intense. Yoongi tried to ignore Jimin’s practiced gaze in exchange for trying to relax his body, loosen his pose, and school his facial expression into something photo-worthy. He settled for tilting his chin down slightly, still in Jimin’s hand, looking up at Jimin through his lashes. He anchored his hands in the lower curve of Jimin’s back, hoping it looked natural.

“OK, good!” The manager called after the last long exposure, turning back to the van.

Yoongi felt a gust of air against his bangs as Jimin released the tense breath he’d been holding, and Yoongi broke the pose as quickly as possible. A barrier had begun to form around them, a clog in the sidewalk of people taking photos and talking excitedly to each other. He slipped back into the van as quickly as he could, head down. Jimin followed soon after, exclaiming a “that was fun!” as Namjoon had earlier.

Namjoon and Hoseok “Oooh”-ed as the two reentered, calling “Nice poses!” as the van started off again.

Yoongi sagged deeply into his seat, staring up at the car ceiling. He was suddenly exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and hide his head under his pillows. He couldn’t do this—how the fuck was he going to do this?

After some time, Yoongi vaguely registered Namjoon squeezing his shoulder, a part of some conversation he was having with the others, and it broke him from his daze. He fished out his phone to check Twitter and the fancafe for recent mentions of his name, and wasn't surprised to see an odd angle of him and Jimin off of someone's phone camera. He sat forward in his seat and tapped the photographer on the shoulder. He quietly asked if he could see the last photos he’d taken, and after the photographer gave several qualifying comments about the pictures not being picked through yet, he showed Yoongi.

Yoongi swallowed thickly. The pictures both amazed and disturbed him. They looked natural. They looked really good. He’d done it.

The photographer flipped through until he got to the last picture, the final long exposure, and Yoongi couldn't help the "wow" that fell from his mouth. The highway below had left long, blurry trails of light across the background of the image, and the foreground held the barely there ghosts of passing people. In the middle, he and Jimin had stayed still enough to be in good focus, everything else blurry from movement or the shallow depth of field. It was a good photo. The intimacy of it made Yoongi clear his throat before asking, "Can you send that to me?"


"When you're done editing. I'd like the RAW though, too."

The photographer finally assented. Yoongi sat back in his seat, head a storm, and the next time he looked up they were pulling up on the private green avenue outside of their apartment building.

Inside, Yoongi started a load of laundry before anyone (namely Jeongguk) could beat him to it and quickly jumped in the shower, eager to scrub the makeup from his face and the product from his hair. He applied a face mask and headed back to the laundry room. He greeted Jin, who was cutting fruit in the kitchen, and sat in the corner of the laundry room to wait the last five minutes for his load to be done.

He was scrolling idly on his phone when he heard several groans and giggles from the kitchen as people joined Jin.

“How was your shoot, hyung?”

He recognized Jimin, even with a mouthful of fruit, talking to Jin.

“Smooth, until the last location,” Jin laughed, “we almost lost Taehyungie to a group of fans.”

The mentioned member, also in the kitchen, groaned. “I almost jumped into the river.”


“How was yours?”

Yoongi held his breath, stilling long enough to make sure he heard Jimin’s answer.

“It was fun! We went to a market and ate a ton. I think Namjoon shoved some leftovers in the fridge if you guys want any.” Yoongi heard the fridge open almost immediately. “I was surprised though, Yoongi-hyung was a lot of fun tonight. He wanted to try some... interesting poses.”

Yoongi struggled to dampen the sound of him choking on his own saliva at the way Jimin had made him sound. Brat. The only unusual pose had been Jimin’s idea!

There were a few moments of pause in which Yoongi thought he might have been heard, but then Jin spoke. “Wow. You’re right. Unusual for him. You guys look really cool!”

Was Jimin really showing them the—Brat.

“Yeah, really cool. Look at hyung’s face in this one! He kind of looks like he's going to puke...”

More laughing.

As soon as he could leave without being discovered—even though Jin had probably known he was there the entire time—Yoongi headed back to his room quickly, put on the densest pair of over-ear headphones he owned, started a chill playlist, and slid into his bed, resolving to hide in his bed until after this stupid fucking tour was over.

Yoongi awoke the next morning to a text message:

“Good job.”
Kwon Sangchul — 10:05

He pulled a pillow over his head and went back to sleep.