"You should take a break, you've been at this all day," you let out, placing the glass of water down and leaning against the side of Yoongi's desk. "Just a few more minutes," he half-heartedly mutters out, scribbling more lyrics down. "Hey," you whisper, trying to soothe him even a little. When he doesn't look up or put the pencil down, you sigh. "Hey," you say, this time louder. He finally pauses, then looks up, his eyes locking with yours.
"Five minutes. Take a drink," you motion to the water, "and talk about something other than music with me. You've been working hard for several hours now. You're starting to worry me, you haven't even said hi to the others this morning." He looks appalled at the idea of leaving his desk, but then he starts to genuinely consider it.
You and Yoongi have been friends for about a year now. You're a music artist, more specifically, a lyricist. You like to sing and perform, but you primarily focus on co-writing songs with other artists. BTS made you an offer a little over a year ago, and you and Yoongi just... clicked. He loves your lyrics, and you love his. That bond only grew from there, and you're grateful to have him as a friend. He knows that if anyone understand his desire to write: it's you.
He lets out a sigh and reluctantly lets the pencil slip out of his grasp, instead replacing the weight with the glass of water. You watch as he hesitates before taking a few sips, raising a brow at you in the process. "Happy?" he says, a small smile threatening to break through his lips. You chuckle and lean forward, ruffling the top of his head. "I'll be even happier if you stretch." He sighs, realizing that once again, you're right.
He stands, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. "You don't have to do it all by yourself, you also don't have to do it in one day." He shakes his head, "people are counting on me." "That doesn't mean you shouldn't eat, drink, and actually go out and do stuff during the day. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your own well-being to please others." He sighs, rubbing his fingers against his temple, "how do you deal with it then?"
Although shocked by his question, you quickly answer. "By realizing when to take time for myself. It's unhealthy, and quite honestly - draining. Your lyrics won't be as powerful if you're writing them on an empty stomach, locked joints, and 2 hours of sleep." He gives you a guilty look. You groan, "no sleep."
You observe him, noticing just how pale he looks; he even has bags under his eyes. "Alright, come over here." You're lucky his office has a couch, not that he ever uses it. You don't think you've ever seen him lying down on it, not even sitting to write lyrics. He's always scribbling away at his desk.
You reach your hand out, and after a moment's hesitation, he takes it. You gently guide him over to the couch and motion for him to sit. He does, and you sit next to him, sitting on your knees and turning Yoongi away from you. You soothingly rub his shoulders, sighing. "What's on your mind other than lyrics?" He takes a moment to answer, "performing." You roll your eyes but can't suppress your small smile. This boy and his music - it's honestly scary sometimes.
"Okay - how about something not relating to music?" He goes silent for a moment. "I haven't played Basketball in a long time." You give him a small smile despite the fact that he can't see you, "I can take you to the court sometime. Brush up on your skills." He chuckles, "you'd probably outperform me." You stop his shoulder massage, giving him a shocked look. After a few seconds, he tilts his head to face you and gives you a shy smile. "What?"
"The Min Yoongi thinks that I can outperform him?" you ask dramatically, putting a hand over your heart. His shy smile turns into one of his classic gummy smiles. "Well... I don't know." You lean forward and rest your head on his shoulder, sighing. "You'll be fine grandpa." He gives you a doubtful look, which causes you to playfully (and lightly) smack the back of his head. "You're a wackadoodle." He looks surprised by this, "me?"
You giggle, snuggling up closer to his side, which he welcomes, wrapping an arm around you. "I'm glad you made me take this break. I feel much better now. I think I can finish up my lyrics now even." You raise a brow, "you sure you're not just saying that so I'll let you go back to work?" He sighs, "I just want to finish as quickly as possible." You groan, "Yooooongiiii." "I know, I know." You nudge his shoulder, "you could let me take a look while you relax. How about that? That way we're productive, and you still get a break. Deal?"
He pauses, considering your words, then nods. "Fine. Deal." You start to stand, but Yoongi's grip tightens. "Wait... maybe not yet. Stay a little longer." These words coming from Yoongles shock you, however you don't protest: you simply scoot closer. You close your eyes, allowing his warmth to soothe you. "This is nice," you whisper. You feel him nod against the top of your head.
"We should stay like this for a while," you mutter, nuzzling against his side. He lightly kisses the top of your head, which surprises you. You're glad your face is nuzzled against his chest so he can't see your red face. "We'll finish your lyrics, don't worry." You reluctantly pull away to look at him. "I know you can do it." He softly smiles, "thanks to your help, I feel like I can do anything."
You slowly get up, Yoongi's grip lingering on your arm before you move away, walking up to his desk and gathering up a stack of his papers. You organize them and make sure to grab a pencil before going back over to the couch and nuzzling up against his side again. You didn't take Yoongi for the type to like physical affection; then again, maybe he doesn't, maybe he just likes doing it with you. Or, maybe he hasn't had a lot of physical affection recently and yearns some. You don't blame him - you're in the same boat. You weren't kidding when you said 'this is nice'.
You scan over the lines upon lines of lyrics, sometimes whispering them while sometimes just reading them in your head. Overall, they're pretty solid. The message is detailed and the lyrics are complex but not so complex that the audience cannot pick it up. "I really like these Yoongles, I mean it. They're pretty good. You don't need to be so worried. You have a lot done, why don't we call it a day and go greet the others?"
He sighs, "I kind of want to get another page done." You look up at him, narrowing your eyes. He frowns, "I just want to make sure everything is up to par with what we've done in the past." "Yoongi. These are absolutely amazing. You're an amazing lyricist and rapper. You always have been. The world will forgive you if you take a few hours to go hang out with your friends." He looks down, getting shy, "but I am hanging out with one of my friends. A really good one." You force down your blush and hum. "I agree, but the boys are your friends too. It would be wrong to ignore them the whole day. Namjoon is probably worried sick."
He slowly looks up, meeting your intense gaze. You don't want anything bad to happen to this man. He's so pure and precious, you hate the idea of him getting ill or exhausted because he pushes himself too hard. You also hate the idea of him being lonely, and you know that if he doesn't leave his office at least twice a day, he'll easily feel alone, even with you here.
After a few more seconds of staring, he finally sighs in defeat, which makes you do a small victory dance with your arms before hopping off the couch and placing his lyrics back on his desk. "Come on, let's go say hi to the others," you let out, stretching ever so slightly. He joins you as you approach the door, and you slowly open it to be greeted by the hallway light, which Yoongi winces at. You can't help but laugh and nudge his shoulder. "You going to be alright?" you ask, genuine concern in your tone. He sighs, his hand entwining with yours. He gives you a small smile.
"Yeah. Yeah... I'll be alright."
