ext_118080 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
goodbyelover.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writetomyheart2015-10-19 12:14 am
goodbyelover.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-10-19 12:14 am
Entry tags:
[Team Sonic] And temptation was my sin
First word from here
(Drabble, what's a drabble?) Still in BTS hell, it's Sugamonster time. Set directly after the B-free incident. (Which hints at stuff that Yoongi's mentioned, such as poverty and starvation.)
Something was wrong with Yoongi as they were ushered back to their van after a few minutes of fresh air. Fans could sense the mood, keeping a respectful distance, sending their well-wishes in a quieter tone. Namjoon could see the concern in their eyes, the sadness in their smiles.
It hadn’t been a pretty night after all.
Yoongi’s hands were shaking, fingers drumming a rigid beat against his thigh, staring blankly ahead. He hadn’t really said anything once they’d bid their fans good night - and honestly, he hadn’t been say much before that either.
Hesitating, Namjoon leaned forward, prodded their manager gently. “Can you drop us off at the studio instead?” he asked quietly. He just wanted to go to bed, but he was a leader first and foremost, and Yoongi needed space they couldn’t get at the dorm.
Their manager’s eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, taking in Namjoon’s gaze and the harsh set of Yoongi’s jaw before nodding, making the small detour. Namjoon and Yoongi both had keys to the studio, as both were prone to late night composing sessions. Namjoon hoped that maybe the familiarity would help sooth the agitations welling up inside of Yoongi, before it tore through him.
Yoongi didn’t question Namjoon as he was pulled out of the van and lead towards the studio entrance, their manager watching them get inside before driving off - they’d walk home, like they normally did. He didn’t say anything as he was lead down the familiar hallways into their main rehearsal room. Didn’t shift his gaze when Namjoon flipped on the low-lights.
(Yoongi didn’t shut down often, preferring to transfer his feelings into his compositions, but tonight, tonight hadn’t been pretty at all.)
“Okay,” Namjoon said, finally moving to standing in front of Yoongi, reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulders. “Don’t do this to me. You gotta talk about it.”
Slowly, so slowly, Yoongi dragged his gaze up, let his eyes focus on Namjoon’s for a second. “A temptation,” he said finally, accent deep, almost slurring. “That’s what they call it these days, right? A fucking temptation?”
He shoved Namjoon’s hands away to rip off his snapback, dropping it carelessly to drag his hands through his hair, a breathless, ruthless laugh coming out, echoing across the mirrors and darkness. “It’s a temptation to try and find something better for you, to find something that will actually keep you going, huh?” Voice growing with every with every word, Yoongi took a reeling step back, as if he was out of control. This hadn’t been the first time someone had gone clawing after them over the choice they'd both made, but it was the first time Namjoon had seen the older boy get so off-kilter about it, Yoongi beginning to scream at the mirrors around them.
“It’s wrong and bad and so awful to not want to be afraid, is it? It’s so goddamn selfish of me, right? Right!?” Yoongi rounded on him, eyes blazing, but lips trembling, and Namjoon let him come in, let him beat a fist against Namjoon’s shoulder, because the past was a path they all walked on, and somewhere, tucked out of sight but too close to mind, were snapshots of a Yoongi who was more ghost than child, with haunted eyes and hollowed cheeks and a number on a scale that the group had vowed he’d never see again. .
“Fuck!” Yoongi howled, grabbing onto Namjoon’s jacket and shaking him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yoongi,” Namjoon said, hands reaching up to take his wrists, not to stop him, but to try and keep him there, thumb against pulse point as a reminder that Namjoon was right there and he wasn’t going anywhere.
The rage ebbed from Yoongi as his hands jerked within Namjoon’s grasp, Yoongi’s gaze dropping as he began to wane.
“I was sixteen,” he whispered, the gentle lacing of horror in his voice not missed by his leader. “I was fucking sixteen.”
“I know,” Namjoon said, as Yoongi’s hands dropped and as Namjoon gently tugged him closer. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Yoongi curled into him, tiny and unusually fragile as he buried himself in the offered warmth, hide his face away. He didn’t cry, barely a tremble running through his body, but it was a vulnerability that Yoongi typically shunned, usually hid away from all eyes and questioning words. He was older and wiser than Namjoon in a lot of ways, but he needed this, and this… Namjoon could give him this.
He could give him a firm embrace and soft fingers in his hair. He could give him a gentle squeeze, tuck him under his chin, and wait for it all to pass.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said, breaking the stretch of silence that had settled over them, turning his cheek but still keeping himself tucked up against Namjoon.
Namjoon smiled, smoothing away the urge to press a kiss to the crown of Yoongi’s head. “Let’s go home, yeah? I bet Jin’s still waiting up for us.”
“He worries too much,” Yoongi said, a complaint, something normal, though his face was softened when he finally pulled away. “You’d think he’d be used to it by now.”
Namjoon smiled, shrugged, and pointedly did not try to take hold of Yoongi’s hand. “You’d miss it if he stopped.”
Yoongi replied with a snort, but didn’t actually disagree as they left the studio and locked up.
Because even if he didn’t say it often, even if sometimes he struggled expressing it, Yoongi would use words like home and family when it came to the boys and Namjoon knew that they just wanted to show that they cared about him too.
(Drabble, what's a drabble?) Still in BTS hell, it's Sugamonster time. Set directly after the B-free incident. (Which hints at stuff that Yoongi's mentioned, such as poverty and starvation.)
Something was wrong with Yoongi as they were ushered back to their van after a few minutes of fresh air. Fans could sense the mood, keeping a respectful distance, sending their well-wishes in a quieter tone. Namjoon could see the concern in their eyes, the sadness in their smiles.
It hadn’t been a pretty night after all.
Yoongi’s hands were shaking, fingers drumming a rigid beat against his thigh, staring blankly ahead. He hadn’t really said anything once they’d bid their fans good night - and honestly, he hadn’t been say much before that either.
Hesitating, Namjoon leaned forward, prodded their manager gently. “Can you drop us off at the studio instead?” he asked quietly. He just wanted to go to bed, but he was a leader first and foremost, and Yoongi needed space they couldn’t get at the dorm.
Their manager’s eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, taking in Namjoon’s gaze and the harsh set of Yoongi’s jaw before nodding, making the small detour. Namjoon and Yoongi both had keys to the studio, as both were prone to late night composing sessions. Namjoon hoped that maybe the familiarity would help sooth the agitations welling up inside of Yoongi, before it tore through him.
Yoongi didn’t question Namjoon as he was pulled out of the van and lead towards the studio entrance, their manager watching them get inside before driving off - they’d walk home, like they normally did. He didn’t say anything as he was lead down the familiar hallways into their main rehearsal room. Didn’t shift his gaze when Namjoon flipped on the low-lights.
(Yoongi didn’t shut down often, preferring to transfer his feelings into his compositions, but tonight, tonight hadn’t been pretty at all.)
“Okay,” Namjoon said, finally moving to standing in front of Yoongi, reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulders. “Don’t do this to me. You gotta talk about it.”
Slowly, so slowly, Yoongi dragged his gaze up, let his eyes focus on Namjoon’s for a second. “A temptation,” he said finally, accent deep, almost slurring. “That’s what they call it these days, right? A fucking temptation?”
He shoved Namjoon’s hands away to rip off his snapback, dropping it carelessly to drag his hands through his hair, a breathless, ruthless laugh coming out, echoing across the mirrors and darkness. “It’s a temptation to try and find something better for you, to find something that will actually keep you going, huh?” Voice growing with every with every word, Yoongi took a reeling step back, as if he was out of control. This hadn’t been the first time someone had gone clawing after them over the choice they'd both made, but it was the first time Namjoon had seen the older boy get so off-kilter about it, Yoongi beginning to scream at the mirrors around them.
“It’s wrong and bad and so awful to not want to be afraid, is it? It’s so goddamn selfish of me, right? Right!?” Yoongi rounded on him, eyes blazing, but lips trembling, and Namjoon let him come in, let him beat a fist against Namjoon’s shoulder, because the past was a path they all walked on, and somewhere, tucked out of sight but too close to mind, were snapshots of a Yoongi who was more ghost than child, with haunted eyes and hollowed cheeks and a number on a scale that the group had vowed he’d never see again. .
“Fuck!” Yoongi howled, grabbing onto Namjoon’s jacket and shaking him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yoongi,” Namjoon said, hands reaching up to take his wrists, not to stop him, but to try and keep him there, thumb against pulse point as a reminder that Namjoon was right there and he wasn’t going anywhere.
The rage ebbed from Yoongi as his hands jerked within Namjoon’s grasp, Yoongi’s gaze dropping as he began to wane.
“I was sixteen,” he whispered, the gentle lacing of horror in his voice not missed by his leader. “I was fucking sixteen.”
“I know,” Namjoon said, as Yoongi’s hands dropped and as Namjoon gently tugged him closer. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Yoongi curled into him, tiny and unusually fragile as he buried himself in the offered warmth, hide his face away. He didn’t cry, barely a tremble running through his body, but it was a vulnerability that Yoongi typically shunned, usually hid away from all eyes and questioning words. He was older and wiser than Namjoon in a lot of ways, but he needed this, and this… Namjoon could give him this.
He could give him a firm embrace and soft fingers in his hair. He could give him a gentle squeeze, tuck him under his chin, and wait for it all to pass.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said, breaking the stretch of silence that had settled over them, turning his cheek but still keeping himself tucked up against Namjoon.
Namjoon smiled, smoothing away the urge to press a kiss to the crown of Yoongi’s head. “Let’s go home, yeah? I bet Jin’s still waiting up for us.”
“He worries too much,” Yoongi said, a complaint, something normal, though his face was softened when he finally pulled away. “You’d think he’d be used to it by now.”
Namjoon smiled, shrugged, and pointedly did not try to take hold of Yoongi’s hand. “You’d miss it if he stopped.”
Yoongi replied with a snort, but didn’t actually disagree as they left the studio and locked up.
Because even if he didn’t say it often, even if sometimes he struggled expressing it, Yoongi would use words like home and family when it came to the boys and Namjoon knew that they just wanted to show that they cared about him too.
no subject
AND AT YOONGI'S COURAGE TO EXPRESS WHAT HE FEELS
and to these two for knowing exactly how to deal with each other ;;
thank you for sharing such a wonderful piece ♡
no subject
Thank you for reading thoughhhhh ❤️ Seriously though, the sugamon feels are real. I just can't. /o\
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
this is gorgeous and painful and I'm so glad that you wrote this because it's raw and the open nerve like we saw being jabbed at in that talk.
my heart hurts, for both of them, for what they've been through, for what they're still going through.
thank you for writing this ;; <333
no subject
*curls into a ball I am unworthyyyy* but but but thank you for your sweet words and for reaading ;o; !!!!
no subject
Edit: okay I don't think I can explain everything I want to say about this, but it's like - these are the kinds of character pieces I absolutely love. Where you take something that happens in the public and explore the behind, the motivations, the emotions, the backstory, the way the complicated interplay of dynamics occurs. This was so poignant, like a memoir of things hat didn't need to be spoken to be understood.
I'm so glad you decided to write this ♡