Rain had been blasting all day, heavy, torrential waves of water falling continuously from the heavens. It was one of the few times that yoongi hated the fact that their studios were sound proof in and out. Of all the things in the world, the sounds of rain falling was one of his favourites. The constant, consistent pitter patter of the water hitting every surface available was the perfect metronome, keeping his motivation in time.
He’d been working on a track almost all day, a slow mellow track with hints of jazz. He didn’t think it would make it into the album set list, but this was more a project of love, rather than work. Not that he didn’t love his work, but there was something very special about making tracks that were just for him. Little snippets of life, encapsulated into moving bars of notes, that only he would ever know. Like a journal, these snippets told his private story, his most intimate memories.
They were all filed away on a hard drive, stowed discretely away in his studio, never to see the light of day. Each file held one of his most precious memories. The first track, a gentle but curious number, told the story of his first meeting with each of his members. Piano notes scattered seemed haphazard, in a random pattern with no structure. Yet when listening carefully with eyes closed, they emulated Jungkook’s shy smile as he looked up through his bangs, Hoseok’s beaming grin as he danced across the floor towards him, Jimin’s floppy hair as he bowed low with respect, Seokjin’s tinkling laugh as he broke the ice with a joke, Namjoon’s flowing voice as he introduced them all, and Taehyung’s shining eyes as he took in all is new brothers.
Another track, further down the playlist, was more aggressive, detailing their first major fight. The deep base, thumping hard and resonating in his bones, told the story of his sinking heart filling with dread, as they all stood in the practice room yelling at one another. Each sharp strum of the electronic guitar was a harsh word flying through the air into each other ears, slicing through their growing bonds. But as the track continued, an acoustic guitar slowly emerges, drown out the bass. The tangy, uplifting notes told the story of their apologies and forgiveness. The bond being reshaped and healed.
Hundred upon hundreds of track lay dormant, intimate, and private on this hard drive.
The most recent track was one of his softest yet. A single guitar, a violin, a flute and a piano play a gentle track that demands attention. The notes seem to swirl off the screen towards him, dancing around the studio, filling every crack and crevice with their soft joyful melody. This track, tells the story of Taehyung, his boxy smile, crinkled eyes, hands gentle as they hold his camera. This track tells of story of Yoongi’s heart leaping out of his chest with love when Taehyung opens his first roll of developed film. This track tells of the never ending, seemingly impossibly big smile that hangs off Taehyung’s face as he holds the negatives up to the light, and revels in the captured memories. This track, tells a story of joy, and the love felt in others when seeing their joy.
If he had to guess, he’d say he’d been working for about 7 hours, several empty cups of ramen placed around his desk from frenzied eating breaks. It was a day off for the company, but really, he never liked days off. His absolute love for what he did always drew him back in. And so the electronic sounds of the keypad outside his studio being pressed came as a surprise. It was a running joke that his two locked doors, keypad locks, and, lets say, expressive doormat were a bit much, but it made him feel safe and secure while he worked. But it was also a running joke among the members and their staff that very few people were privilege to the code. He knew it wouldn’t be ant of their staff as it was a day off, so there was only one other person it could be. He saved the file, and got up from his chair, walking over to the door and pulling it open just as the person almost finished typing in the coded sequence.
Taehyung’a soaking frame, standing shaking outside his studio door, arm raised mid punching in his code was definitely a surprise.
“What are you going here? Are you okay? You’re all wet.”
He stood still for a draggingly slow amount of time, dripping water onto the floor, before timidly shaking his head. Yoongi carefully reached out and took hold of his hand, scarily cold from the torrential rain.
“Come on in Tae, you’re okay.”
Tugging on his arm, he pulled him into his studio, not caring about his carpet getting wet. Taehyung was much more important than any carpet, shitty or expensive. The more he looks at Taehyung, the more he sees the soft tear tracks running down his face, as they blend into his already wet face.
“How are you feeling? Can I touch you”
Shit, he’d forgotten to ask before he’d pulled Taehyung into his studio.
Just Taehyung standing there shivering.
Except the drip, drip, drip, of the water slowly falling off of him.
“It’s okay Taehyungie, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re okay I’ve got you, you’re safe here. You can just nod if you don’t want to talk, I understand.”
And then slowly, he nodded his head.
“Okay, I’m going to touch you now, just gently though. I’ve got you, you’re okay. I love you so much Taehyungie. You’re so brave. Im so proud of you. You’re okay”
He reached down and carefully slid his hand into Taehyung’s. His warm solid palm pressing against Taehyung’s cold soft one. Curling his fingers up to wrap around his knuckles, and pulling Taehyung against him.
His wet clothes, clinging to his idol thin frame, press against him in a way that was entirely unpleasant. But it’s worth it for Taehyung. It’s worth it to pull him tight against his chest. To be able to feel Taehyung’s erratic heart beat slow just a little as he wraps his warm arms around his shaking body. Taehyung, just a little bit taller after all those year of growing, has to lean down slightly in order to stuff his head into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. To nuzzle his cold wet face into the warm encasement of Yoongi. His dripping hair tickles Yoongi’s nose as he presses his face against Taehyung’s head. He can feel Taehyung’s laboured breathes as they dance across his neck, and he brings his free hand around to Taehyung’s back to rub long, smooths strokes up and down it.
“How about we get you into a shower, huh? How does that sound?.”
Yoongi is sure, after years of accidentally spending the night or several days in his studio, that he has multiple changes of clothes scattered around. Definitely at least a few oversized hoodies and tracksuits pants that would at fit Taehyung, albeit be a little less oversized on his larger frame.
A timid nod is all the answer he gets
“Yeah? Okay lets go get you all warmed up and dry.”
He briefly lets go of him to reach up to the cupboard on the back wall of his studio, praying that he hadn’t emptied it out. Low and behold, there were a few soft hoodies and loose tracksuit pants folded neatly. He grabbed the biggest of each, closing the cupboard and turning back to Taehyung.
Gently rubbing up and down his soaked arms he steered him toward the communal bathrooms that extended past the practice rooms. Usually they are reserved to be used by them, after hours and hours of dancing so that they didn’t fill the car with the sweaty smell of 7 teen boys, or for when he and Namjoon accidentally spend three days in their studios and emerge tired, disoriented and gross. But he figured no one would care if he stuck Taehyung in a shower cubicle now.
Taehyung followed dumbly, letting Yoongi lead him. Trusting him to take him there safely.
He sat him down on a bench in the big bathroom, grabbing two towels and a bar of soap from the store room.
“Okay do you think you’re okay to have a shower by yourself? Or do you want some help? I can just sit right here if you want and keep you company if you don’t want me in there.”
Taking Taehyung’s hand in his own, he spoke again.
“It’s okay if you’re not up for talking yet. How about, one squeeze for go, two squeezes for stay here and keep you company, and three squeezes for help you in the shower. Okay?’
Gently, he feels Taehyung squeeze his hand once, and then a second time
“Okay Tae, I’ll be right here if you need me I brought you some new clothes and some towels they are right there, just yet if you need me”
Taehyung nods his head, and then gripping the towel steps into one of the shower cubicles, locking the door behind him.
After a few minutes, presumably as he strips himself of his sticky wet clothes, Yoongi hears the water turn on, flattering against the tiled floors.
This goes on for several minutes and yoongi sits patiently humming softly to himself while he waits for Taehyung to be done. Deciding to give Taehyung some space.
It not until he hears his gentle sobs that he stand, and knocks on the cubicle door.
“Taehyunggie? Are you alright?”
Taehyung’s sobs flatter for a second, before coming back stronger.
“It’s okay TaeTae, you’re okay Hyung’s right here. Can you unlock the door for me? I just want to help you”
He hears some sloshing of the water, which he assumes to be Taehyung standing up, and then he hears the lock slot across. He waits a moment, then Taehyung emerges, wrapped in a towel, face blotchy and red, hiding half behind the door.
“Oh Taehyungie, I promise you’re okay. I’m right here, Hyung’s here to help you’’
Yoongi holds open his arms, and Taehyung steps forward and curl himself into Yoongi’s embrace. He wraps both arms tight around Taehyung’s body and presses him into his chest, giving him something to ground himself on. He reaches behind Taehyung to grab the other towel, wrapping is around Taehyung's hair and shoulders, and he begins to gently rub Taehyung’s hair dry. Once that’s done, he moves to start drying the rest of him, trying his best to be as gentle as possible. Then, with taehyung still curled against his chest, he reaches back and grabs the change of clothes. He has to step back for this, causing Taehyung to let out a small whimper at the loss, but he gives Taehyung a reassuring squeeze of his hand. Then he slides boxers and a pair of tracksuit pants up his legs, and tugs his softest hoodie over his head before once again tucking him into his chest. He was definitely to big to be carried by Yoongi, he always had been really. Especially because of Yoongi’s small frame, and after his scooter accident, Yoongi had always lacked upper body strength. So instead, he again just gently steered Taehyung back into his studio, and onto the couch there. Taehyung immediately latched onto him again wrapping his hand in Yoongi’s and practically sitting in his lap.
Yoongi suddenly became very aware of Taehyung's hand, trembling in his own. Taehyung’s body, shaking against his own. Taehyung’s breaths, ragged against his own.
For the first time since he arrived, Taehyung’s quivering voice pipes up, a torrential waterfall of panic spurting out before Yoongi could react.
“I can’t breathe Hyung, I can’t do it. It’s too hard, my throats all closed up. I’m never going to be able to breathe again, this is it, I’m going to die right here and I didn’t even say goodbye to the others and now I’m going to die having never said goodbye, and they’ll all hate me because I didn’t say anything I just died. I just want to breathe Hyung.”
“Hey, hey, shh, its okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Hyung’s got you Taehyungie. You’re okay”
Shuddering breathes wrack though Taehyung’s body. His breathes each full his chest out and in in violent bursts. His racing mind is stealing his focus and wrapping him into a choking blanket of anxiety. Dragging him down like an ocean current. Pulling him, in his panicked mind, to certain death.
But unfortunately this was nothing new, and Yoongi knew how to handle this. He’d done it many times before. Of course he had. He’s always been Taehyung’s go to hyung. His most trusted. He’d always been the one Taehyung idolised. Honestly, in their younger days it had made him a bit uncomfortable. The fresh eyed 16 almost 17 year old following him around like a puppy, asking about rapping, any new tracks he was working on, looking at him in awe over the littlest things. Yoongi, only ever having been a younger brother, had no idea how to take care of this new set of dongsaengs. This new group of hopeful boys who looked up to him, the same way he looked up to his hyung. It was scary. Overwhelming. Intimidating. But in the same way is made him feel special. Loved. Important. Needed. It brought out the caring and loving side of himself that he had rarely been able to let loose. They became his rock, just as much as he was theirs.
Taehyung had, and would always hold that special place as his first younger brother, just like how he would always hold the special place as Taehyung’s first older brother. He wasn’t the first of the younger members to join, but he was the first one he formed such a deep bond with. Taehyung was the one who brought him truly out of his shell. So of course he was the one that helped Taehyung open up himself, and truly accepted him. Welcoming him into their little misshapen but loving family.
So although he knew how to handle Taehyung in every shape and form, seeing him curled into a ball in his lap, wheezing, always made him feel like he was the one that couldn’t breathe. Like he was the one spiralling out of his mind.
He knew that Taehyung wouldn’t want to talk right now, but would rather just have someone hold his tight and be a solid grounding for his racing mind, and so thats what he did. He snuck his arms around Taehyung waist and pulled his firmly against him, continuing the slow but steady drag of his hands up and down Taehyung’s back
But his numbing legs, tired arms, were worth it as slowly but surely, Taehyung’s heart beat slowed to normal, breathing evened out, shakes became tremors, became stillness, his mind returning to it’s usual steady state.
They sat together, Taehyung in Yoongi’s lap, breaths swirling together, chest rising and falling in sync for a long time. The gentle tick tock tick tock tick tock of the metronome he’d left running provides them both with a steady consistent beat to exist to. Taehyung, now much warmer and solid against him, slowly slips down him, his head now resting flat against his chest, rather than his neck, as he falls into a deep slumber. Yoongi’s looks down at his tear stained, smushed face, a trickle of drool beginning to slips out of his mouth, and he can’t help but smile as his cuteness. He feels a warm, deep, expansive love flood through his bones as he holds Taehyung a little tighter, shifting him in his arms, careful not to wake him. He feels himself slipping, him arms involuntarily sliding off Taehyung's back as they grow heavier and heavier, until they rest against the couch cushions and he’s out to the world.
He wakes to the heavy press of taehyung still a top him, but now they are lying down across the couch, taehyung chest stretched across his. Somehow his arm has snaked its way back around Taehyung in his sleep, and he can’t help the growing smile that spreads across his sleepy face. He has no idea what time it is, let alone what day it is. But Taehyung is here, he’s safe, he’s sleeping soundly, heavy breathes even slower than Yoongi’s, and all it okay.
He lays there, trying to match his breathing to Taehyung, but can’t manage to replicate the impossibly slow drag of deep sleep inhaling. The metronome ticks on.
Lulling him back into dreamland.
The next time he wakes, Taehyung is starting to stir too, shifting against him. Honestly, Taehyung rib cage presses into him sharply, a match of drop rests below his mouth, and holding his weight up for so long is making it hard for him to breathe, but he couldn’t care less.
“Hey Taehyungie, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
A low grumble, starting deep in Taehyung’s chest, makes it’s way out of his mouth in a low whine as he slowly sits himself up. His eyes filled with sleep, his hair sticking up at all angles, his rumbled clothes all paint a picture of an exhausted boy wanting comfort, and thats exactly what Yoongi will do.
That’s exactly what Yoongi will always do.
Love and care for his little bother.