Yoongi opens the door to his apartment, feeling the awkwardness of having invited Sena back to his place. What if she has the wrong idea about why he invited her here? What if he has the wrong idea about why he invited her here? He turns on the light and sees her slipping out of her tall black boots. For an instant he pictures her wearing nothing but the tall black boots, but he shakes the thoughts from his mind quickly. It doesn't mean anything. He can't control those sorts of thoughts, he tells himself.
"Want anything to drink?" he asks, leading the way into his apartment. She looks around at the space, nodding as if she expects everything she's seeing, as though every picture on the wall and bit of furniture is exactly what she figured he would have in his apartment.
"Sure. Whatever you have that's got alcohol in it." He laughs at her.
"It's not even noon Sena!" His big gummy smile appears, making her shrug.
"It feels like midnight to me." She explains. He thinks it over.
"What do they say in America? It's 5:00 somewhere?" He laughs and shakes his head at her.
"Where is your studio?" she asks eagerly. He points.
"Through that door. I'll get us something to drink and join you in a minute." He continues on toward the kitchen and turns back to see her stepping through the door to his studio.
He normally wouldn't allow anyone to go in there without him, but he's more than a little curious to see if he needs to clean up and hide things in his apartment first. He opens the kitchen door and is relieved to find the counters and the sink gleaming, with no evidence of his over indulgence the previous night. His housekeeper must have been there already and cleaned up. He exhales a deep sigh, feeling more comfortable having her over to a clean apartment. He goes to the refrigerator to get something to drink for them, finding the fridge stocked with fresh food, but not seeing any beer.
He puzzles what to offer and he turns to the drinks cabinet and sees a bottle of Xi Feng Jiu, Baiju that someone gave him to celebrate an achievement. He remembers the Chinese liquor tasted a little like lighter fluid and had a kick that could take you out in just a few shots. It's not casual sipping liquor, but it's all he has in the apartment. He shrugs and pulls the dusty bottle down, bringing two shot glasses with it.
He steps into the studio room with his offering and sees her bent over his small mix board, connecting something. He tries not to look over her form in her tight jeans and he turns his head away. He sets the bottle and glasses on a side table and turns back to figure out what she's doing. She hears him behind her and looks over her shoulder.
"You didn't have your keyboard connected. Are you not using it to write music these days?" she asks. He shakes his head.
"I've been starting songs on guitar since I learned to play a few years ago. I transfer it to keyboard only after I've picked out the melody. It's easier to travel with a guitar," he explains. She nods, agreeing. She sits down at the keyboard that she just connected and starts to finger the keys, touching a few and then she pauses, preparing herself to play.
He sits beside her, ready to listen. Her fingers move across the keyboard and she begins to play a song he recognizes as one of his own. He squints his eyes as he takes in the sound of her playing; skillful and confident, hitting every note he wrote and reminding him of a time a few years ago when he composed the song, just after the groups first ever Grammy win. It makes him smile to remember that night, and the song. She finishes, letting her hand raise up from the keyboard in a dramatic pause, and she looks over at him, as if waiting for applause or approval. He looks up at her, feeling a connection, and enjoying the moment, but trying very hard to keep that to himself. He smirks a little.
"That was one of my favorites," she tells him as she leans back from the keyboard.
"I'm surprised you remembered it so well," he says, avoiding directly complimenting her.
"I just heard it again the other day. After I met you, I went home and listened to some of your songs," she mentions, looking back at the keyboard. He's intrigued.
"Oh really? What made you do that?" He narrows his eyes, smiling curiously.
"I wanted to know if I should bother speaking to you ever again after you so rudely dismissed me at the studio," she only half jokes, because it's the truth.
"What did you decide?" he asks. A long moment passes as she studies him, and he waits for her verdict.
"I decided to give you one more chance." She punctuates her comment with a loud tap on a note at the keyboard in front of her, disarming him and making him laugh. She looks past him to the liquor bottle on the table behind him and arches an eyebrow. "Baijiu?! Min Yoongi, are you trying to get me drunk?" She stares at him for a long beat before she laughs.
Her laugh is raspy and deep and it makes him smile to hear it. Her throaty voice is like a reward for making her smile and it's filling him with a warmth he hadn't expected. He bites his lip hoping to stem the desire building inside him, a desire to grab her face and pull her close to him, to feel her pink lips pressed firmly against his and to run his hands down her back to slide over her jeans. He clears his throat, reaching back for the bottle. He pours two shots and hands her a glass. She eyes him as she takes it. She taps it against his glass, and without waiting, throws it back, letting the pungent liquor slide down her throat. She coughs, pounding her chest at the intensity of the burn tracing it's way down to her stomach. He laughs at the state of her, making a gaging face and sticking her tongue out. He smiles a big gummy smile as he holds his glass up, ready to drink the liquid down, in one gulp, as she did, but he loses his nerve and takes a sip. Making the same sour face. She laughs at him.
"It's best not to savor it," she suggests. He smiles at her as he comes down from the pain of the taste. She looks at him, waiting. "Well, go on! Down in one my son," she says. He shakes his head marveling at how informal she is. It must be all her years spent in America. No one else her age would dare talk to him like this. There is something quite engaging about her treating him this way. He's positive it annoyed him at first but he's long since forgotten those thoughts. He steels his nerve and raises the glass to his lips, turning his head away at the stink of the liquor. He squeezes his eyes together tightly and then pours the entire shot glass down his throat.
He coughs just as she did and she bursts out laughing at him. He turns to her, grinning, proud of himself for surviving that taste.
"It's not so bad after you get over the first taste." He sputters. She shakes her head.
"Oh yeah? Pour another then." She arches her eyebrows at him, calling his bluff. He feels the courage rise in him as his stomach warms. He reaches for the bottle.
"Ladies first," he pours out another round.
YOU ARE READING
Fix You (MYG) Book 2 of BTS 2026 series
Fanfiction'He can't contain her, he can't deny her, and what he really wants, might just be to stand beside her, holding her hand, and rise with her. His face grimaces as he fights the thoughts back. It's too soon to think any of this! This isn't who he is!' ...
