A fic prompt for Ikje/namjoon (not necessarily shippy but whatever you prefer) smth to do with ikjes penchant for tweeting or texting in English while drunk? Thanks!!
No offense Sio but WHY DO YOU BOTHER USING THE ANON FUNCTION?
Namjoon is woken by his phone clamoring for attention at four in the morning. As soon as he sees the time he leaps into action, almost crashing into the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses.
Texts at four in the morning are rarely a good sign and are typically indicative of last minute choreography overhauls that require sixteen hours solid rehearsals to pin down. Namjoon sees that he has twelve unread texts and breathes deep to try to squash the dread building in his gut.
Two texts can be discarded immediately as they are nothing more serious than adverts from the pizza place down the road. The other ten are less innocuous and significantly more bizarre. They’re all from Ikje, and when he opens up the message thread, it’s apparent that his hyeong is exclusively speaking English tonight.
“What’s up?” Jimin hisses through the dark.
“Ikje’s being a prick, go back to sleep.”
Somewhere on the other side of the room, Jimin yawns loudly, “tell him hi from me.”
Shuffling out into the living room where he can be a nuisance in peace, Namjoon drags himself far enough out of sleep to start processing Ikje’s messages.
hiyaaaaaa cutie
u should come drink with us
hduhdsipfewhhwf :)
HUNCHUL JUST SHOWED UP he says he misses u
we r having funnnnn where r u?
were goin 2 Busan next weekend come with us
i hope hyosangs ok :(
oh wait shit u and hyosang are like….woah
ur hair is truly majestic btw do u like my hair
where areeeeee yoouuu
It’s a lot to take in, Namjoon has to look up the word ‘majestic’ and when he’s done decides that it’s not the word he would use to describe anyone’s hair. He squints at the romanised versions of people’s names and thinks that whoever decided Hunchul needed a ‘u’ anywhere in his name needs their ears checked.
he replies in Korean, because English conversation sounds like hell right about now: hyeong, I think you’re drunk
Not ten seconds later: of course i am!!!!
speak english joonie i miss it
Scowling at his phone, Namjoon taps out the most thorough English reply he can think of at that moment: it’s early Ikje, i have to work today, please let me sleep. Also jimin says hi
:( ok but imma call u tomorrow night!!! English chat!! is all the reply he gets.
Namjoon can psyche himself up for that, it’s not the first time Ikje has proposed an ‘English chat’ while drunk and invariably they wind up speaking Korean at least half the time when they actually do speak.
Ikje will call though, which is nice. And Donghyuk will come and take up space in the studio and on the couch, and if Hunchul’s around maybe Namjoon can go get a drink with him sometime.
He sighs, it’s quarter past four, and like it or not he has to be up at seven. He traipses back into the bedroom as quietly as he can manage, and enjoys the rest of his night’s sleep uninterrupted by any texts.
:')))) Can I please request supreme suga (a new ship name! Nice!) Donghyuk thinks yoongi would have an easier time of things if he actually gave himself some credit for once
Nice ship name….too bad this isn’t shippy (but this is me I mean what were we all expecting?)
When Donghyuk left, he never handed in his key. The result of this is that he doesn’t leave their dorm, not entirely at least, and the seven of them get used to finding him dozing on the couch when they get back from rehearsals.
No one minds, because Donghyuk’s easy to get along with and he’s far tidier as a house guest than a host, but as the company line drifts further and further into idol territory, Yoongi can’t help but view him as something of a ghost of the career they never got to have.
Then they move, and Donghyuk doesn’t have the key any more. Yoongi assumes that will be the last word on the matter, but two weeks later he comes home late and finds him and Namjoon giggling over a bottle of soju in the living room.
“What’s he doing here,” Yoongi snaps, harsher than he intended.
Namjoon’s face immediately resolves into a frown, “I invited him over. You got a problem with that?”
Yoongi doesn’t reply, but he makes sure that both of them see how his mouth flattens into a disapproving line as he crosses the flat to his bedroom. He feels the sting of something that feels a little bit like guilt follow after him, putting in his headphones to drown it out. he has nothing to feel guilty about, and Donghyuk has no right to be here.
-
“You free this evening?”
“Nope,” Namjoon’s voice is terse, he doesn’t look up from his coffee. Yoongi holds his breath waiting for an explanation but none is forthcoming.
Groaning internally, Yoongi takes a seat at the other side of the kitchen table, “why not?”
“Filming.”
Namjoon always seems to be filming something or other these days. He doesn’t brag about his new found popularity, which Yoongi is grateful for, but they all notice how he’s taken to rolling his eyes at the prospect of further concert rehearsals in a manner that the rest of them can’t sympathise with.
Namjoon is tired. Hell, Yoongi’s tired, but they both know who’s got the rougher sleeping schedule.
Setting his coffee down, Namjoon meets Yoongi’s gaze, “what’s you’re problem with Donghyuk?”
“I don’t have a problem with Donghyuk.”
“Yoongi…”
“I don’t!” Yoongi looks down at his hands, “I was just tired last night. I wasn’t expecting him here, it’s no big deal.”
Namjoon clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “you’ve always been weird with him. I know you’re not the most sociable guy in the world but you’re never happy to see him, which is kinda awkward when we have to work with him so much. I just…” he looks round the room like he’s searching for his next line written somewhere on the wall, “I need to know if he did something wrong or if you’re just bitter.”
“Why would I be bitter?” Yoongi frowns.
Namjoon sits back, takes a long swig of coffee, and treats the kitchen to a sarcastic bark of laughter, “oh please.”
-
Donghyuk’s in the main studio that night when Yoongi goes in to get his laptop. There’s a curly straw poking out of the can of Red Bull he has sitting on the mixing desk and his hair has been rather haphazardly shoved under a beanie, blonde flyaways sticking out at odd angles.
He sits up rather straight when Yoongi comes in and yawns loudly, “whatcha doing here?”
“Laptop,” Yoongi says, reaching down to pick what he needs up off the sofa. He tries a smile in Donghyuk’s direction but the diminutive producer seems too out of it to respond.
He’s just about to leave when he gets called back, “can you take a listen to this for me?” Donghyuk shakes a pair of headphones in Yoongi’s direction.
It would be rude not to, Yoongi supposes, he slips them over his ears and reaches forward to hit the playback button. It’s a good beat, energetic and bass heavy without falling too far into the ‘derivative trap’ category. He nods along appreciatively and hands the heaphones back with the same awkward half smile from before, “it’s good, as expected.”
Donghyuk makes a face, “you think? I reckon it needs some type of melody over it after the first chorus break. It’s tricky though, don’t want it to detract from whatever’s going on on top of the beat, ya know?”
Yoongi doesn’t know, so he shrugs, “you’d know better than me.”
“Yeah but it’s not like you know nothing.”
“I don’t know much,” Yoongi can feel his patience slipping. He has his mixtape to work on, and he’d like to get a head start on lyrics for the next Bangtan album before Bang PD starts riding them too hard about it. Meanwhile Donghyuk sits ensconced in the Big Hit studio, content to work at his own pace.
Donghyuk frowns, “the hell does that mean? You know plenty, you’re stuff’s good.”
“Maybe. It doesn’t really matter though.”
“How d’you work that one out?”
“It’s like…” Yoongi finds himself looking round the room like Namjoon over breakfast, the words don’t spring into life in front of him, “people aren’t really listening to the music, ya know? They think we’re cute, everything else is a bonus.
For a moment, Donghyuk doesn’t react, then a shadow crosses his face and he audibly growls under his breath, “are all idols this fucking stupid? Jeez”
“Well no one asked for your opinion,” Yoongi snarls before he can think better of it.
Donghyuk gets to his feet and steps forward, for a moment Yoongi thinks he’s going to punch him, but he just raises an accusatory finger, “I’ve had it up to here with Namjoon whining about that ‘style over substance’ bullshit, I’m not going to listen to you spouting the same nonsense. People don’t buy your albums to listen to your cute face! And even if they do, who cares? They’re still buying them aren’t they? They’re still encouraging you to keep making music.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to interject but Donghyuk barrels on, “give yourself some damn credit for your success, blaming everything you’ve accomplished on the fact that you’re pretty is a sure fire way to get complacent,” he nods towards the laptop, still tucked under Yoongi’s arm, “so you better be giving that mixtape your best shot. Namjoon sure as shit didn’t slack off making his.”
“Who said I wasn’t working hard?” Yoongi tries not to sound wounded, but given the way Donghyuk’s frown flickers with concern he’s not sure he’s managed it.
“No one, but you’ve been taking you’re sweet time with it and I’m pretty sure that if you were actually happy with what you’ve got so far it wouldn’t be taking so long.”
Humming in agreement, Yoongi pulls up a second chair as Donghyuk crumples back into his seat by the main monitor. The track he’s been working on stares back at them, accusing, but he genuinely doesn’t know how to make it work. If Donghyuk’s not happy with it then that’s it’s problem, but it sounds fine to him.
“Will you listen to some of it? Just to let me know what you think?” The words are out of Yoongi’s mouth before he realises that he had decided to ask.
Donghyuk looks round, “to your mixtape you mean? Sure.”
“Be honest with me, tell me if it’s crap.”
“Of course I will,” Donghyuk passes Yoongi the cable to hook his laptop up to the studio speakers, “it probably won’t be though.”
Yoongi manages a more genuine smile this time, “I’m only gonna play you the good stuff.”
Can you please write another SupremeMonster fic? Pretty please?
Absolutely, yes, 100%, always, love SupremeMonster :’)
AU suggested by kuopyo
Donghyuk traces the knot in the wood with his thumb, following the contortions of the grain till the bark smooths back into lines he can follow. He’s going to have his work cut out with this one - the imperfection runs deep into the trunk by the looks of things, he can already feel it peeling away from him at the wrong angle.
This is old oak though, it’s to be expected. Namjoon likes to run his hands over the clean cut beech table at the back of Donghyuk’s workshop and mutter rather wistfully that oak is a dream to work with. He’s wrong, but then again Namjoon was never very good at considering other people’s weaknesses where they overlap with his strengths.
Namjoon likes to work in detail, to pick away at the wood he works with till be finds a form beneath. He traces out twisting vines on poplar, finds dragons in the dips of cedar branches, spies the greenman hiding in the oak.
In that respect oak is easy, it makes it’s own plans and all you have to do is keep up. A lot of Namjoon’s best work is done in oak, and it colours his eyes rosey when he watches Donghyuk laying out the twisted trunks as he starts to build from scratch.
Strip the bark, lay the wood, he’s determined to do this all by hand.
“Steady,” he mutters to himself when he sets the saw to the bottom of the first tree. He says it again when he hits the knot in an effort to dissuade himself from taking the easy route out and following the oak’s plan. Namjoon stands back with furrowed brows to wait for the moment everything falls apart.
Nothing falls apart.
“Look at that!” Donghyuk grins as the first panel comes free.
Namjoon’s eyes go wide, his hands come up to brush against the whorls left by the knotting of the tree, “wonderful.”
That’s all Donghyuk needs to hear. He cuts legs and struts, raises posts, leaves space at the headboard for something of Namjoon’s devising. When he gets to the third tree he finds the grain coloured brilliant brown next to the blonde, and works it into the foot.
And all by hand, and slowly slowly, Donghyuk build a bed. He builds it out of oak because Namjoon loves to work with oak, but he build it big enough for two because Namjoon loves him. He builds it himself because he loves Namjoon.
It stands in the centre of his workshop, resplendent in the late afternoon sun, the product of a week’s work. Donghyuk smiles to himself and sets down his hammer - only the varnish to go now.
Namjoon shows up half an hour later with a cat tucked under his arm, all long limbs and lines first traced by an ash tree. He blinks out over the expanse of jumbled wood till his eyes settle on the bed - his smile comes slow but is all the brighter for it when it reaches it’s zenith.
“It’s beautiful,” he breathes. Donghyuk smiles to himself and resists the urge to say he knows.
Instead he passes over a rag drenched in varnish, sticky and sharp scented, the smell of a job well done.
