this is for @yeo-ubi, the suga to my mon, who keeps scenario’ing with me and then telling me she hates me for giving her mental images. love u, grumpy pie! <3 ((she’s seen this already, but i thought i’d share :3))
948 words of sugamon in the early morning [unedited]
Namjoon woke to something none-too-gently prodding his thigh. When he tried opening his eyes, he got blinded immediately, jerking his head with the sudden pain, which set off another hot flash of hurt in his neck. Groaning, he slapped his hands over his eyes until they stopped watering before he gingerly tried squinting through them. There was the hazy outline of someone standing over him, relentlessly poking at his thigh with something hard and plastic. “…Y’ngi-hyung?”
Right, he’d fallen asleep on the studio couch, as the crick in his neck reminded him. Lowering his hands, Namjoon swatted at the cell phone Yoongi was still using to prod his thigh. The computer was shut down, he noted groggily, the headphones neatly placed to the side. “’time ‘s it?” he asked, voice scratchy from sleep.
“Five-thirty. Come on, get up so we can go.”
Namjoon paused in sitting up to stare at Yoongi incredulously. “Five-thirty?!”
Yoongi returned the stare, his jaw set mulishly, looking grumpy and crumpled. “You were the one who insisted on staying. Don’t blame me for your own stupidity.”
Yes, because he’d thought Yoongi might stop working at a decent hour if he waited up for him. So much for that plan. He rubbed his face. “Hyung, it’s our week off. Shouldn’t you, you know, use that for relaxing? Sleeping?”
Namjoon huffed out a tired laugh at his deadpan voice. “That’s not what you say in interviews.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what I say now.” Yoongi shifted, slipping his phone into the pocket of his track pants. “Come on, Joon-ah, let’s go. I’m fucking tired, I want to go home.”
As Namjoon stood, the new angle made the dark shadows under Yoongi’s haggard face stand out like bruises, the slump to his shoulders making him look even thinner than he usually appeared. Taking in the droop to Yoongi’s eyes, Namjoon swallowed his comment and instead adjusted the beanie he was wearing. “Okay, let’s go.”
Yoongi shut off the lights and locked the door behind them. Their steps echoed through the empty hallways as they retraced their path from the night before until they emerged into the chilly pre-dawn air. It felt refreshing to Namjoon, but from the corner of his eye he saw Yoongi shivering, probably too tired to get properly warm. He shuffled closer until their shoulders bumped as they trudged along the sparsely populated streets. “Hyung.”
Yoongi glanced at him, face pinched. “What.”
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier? I could’ve helped you.”
“I was fine by myself, okay?”
Namjoon gave him a look that lost some of its effect because Yoongi refused to turn his head. “You don’t look fine to me.”
With an aggressive sigh, Yoongi burrowed deeper into his hoodie, drawing up his shoulders. “You need your sleep, alright? You’re the leader, you have to keep up your energy.”
“Well, as leader,” Namjoon replied, speaking loudly over Yoongi’s next growling sigh, “it’s my job to make sure my members are well, so I say you should stop working so much.”
“Maybe I would’ve worked more efficiently if I didn’t have some loud-ass buffoon snoring in my ears,” Yoongi griped back, shoving into Namjoon’s side and making him stumble.
Righting himself, Namjoon threw him a triumphant look. “Which just proves my point that you should’ve woken me up.”
“Still makes you a loud-ass snoring buffoon though.”
Yoongi just laughed at him, his lips curled up impishly in amusement, looking a lot more awake and energetic than before. The sight made warm contentment settle in Namjoon’s chest. He grinned back, bumping their arms together again.
Seoul was just beginning to wake up, and the streets felt fresh and new and still familiar under the first soft pinks of the dawn sky. Only a few people were milling about, mostly vendors setting up stalls for the early morning commuters to get something quick and filling for breakfast, steam rising from their pots. It felt almost like a different place, like the world had suddenly grown bigger for them, to give them a space of their own for a while and Namjoon didn’t want to leave it yet. He absently caught Yoongi’s fingers to get his attention. “Hey, hyung, wanna get breakfast?”
“Now?” Yoongi sounded incredulous.
“Why not? You didn’t even have dinner because you were trying to fix that verse.”
For a second it looked as if Yoongi was about to say something scathing, but then his face smoothed into his regular blank look and he shrugged. “Fine. You’re paying.”
“What?” Namjoon gasped. “That’s not fair! I got back pains from sleeping on that couch waiting for you, hyung, the least you can do is buy me breakfast!”
“Who asked you to wait, you punk?”
“I did it out of honest care for your black soul and this is the thanks I get,” Namjoon lamented, but he steered Yoongi in the direction of the vendors, resigned to his fate. They ate while meandering slowly in the direction of the dorm, burning their tongues with the freshly cooked food, blowing out clouds of steam into the chilly air.
It was Yoongi who caught Namjoon’s hand when they were almost back at the dorms, fingers sticky from the food, making them stop in their tracks. “Joon-ah. Thank you.”
When Namjoon looked over, Yoongi was buried to the nose in the neck of his hoodie, refusing to raise his eyes, so Namjoon gave his fingers a quick, gentle squeeze. “Anytime.”
Yoongi cleared his throat. “Okay, you cheesy dumbass, let’s go home now. I’m tired as fuck.”
Namjoon just smiled at the back of his head and followed him into the building.
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