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coffeedepressionsoup · 3 months

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Somebody Does Love | MYG - He Falls First

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where Yoongi is a man with a crush, and Sammy is a diligent shipper. Part 4 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3.9k+

Warnings - lil swearing, drinking is injurious to health, smoking too (dk if that bit is in there), flustered Yoongi Pro Max

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - It would seem the word limit is me overcompensating for the long break. Hehehe. I have received so many positive and encouraging comments throughout this time, some anonymous, I wanted to write a slightly longer note to thank you all. On some of the worst days, your enthusiasm puts a smile on my face. Thank you, and take my warmest love.

Partially proofread. Basically word vomit. Written in three frenzied, sleepless nights. Please be kind. Like, reblog and comment to let me know what you think of this chapter. Also, feel free to DM me to be added to the taglist. That's all. Enjoy!

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Sammy tries his best to keep a straight face as he looks at his friend of more than 8 years explaining why he decided to drop by his house - the third time in two weeks, which is more than the number of visits in the last two years, combined.

Min Yoongi, the friend in question here, allegedly found inspiration at a park earlier that day and had the beats for a new song in mind, for which Sammy was being requested to work on the lyrics. Could it have waited until the next day? Apparently not.

The urgency (of the creative variety, of course) is why the award-winning music producer was hunched over at Sammy’s living room sofa, having hijacked the latter’s laptop.

However, the explanation did not seem satisfactory to Sammy. I mean, obviously, there are some good beats that Yoongi presented in the short while that he was there. But that is not unbelievable. He has previously seen him finish a song in less than an hour.

Even the inspiration is not doubtful. Not in the least. Of course, he can believe in finding inspiration for a song at random places, at random times. Sammy himself had made a song about the annoyance shaving can be after a particularly annoying early morning schedule.

The urgency, however, is the fishy bit. Not that it’s too late in the night. It’s 10:27, Sammy checks his phone. It is not too late at all for his friends to get together for drinks or movies. But turning up at his house though? And Yoongi?

Sammy has had to often take in a drunk and dejected Jaehyeong at around midnight when he was going through a difficult breakup and would end up in his neighbourhood because the ex used to live close by. Dojoon and Yijeong would often come in unannounced for impromptu jamming sessions. Hajoon would drop by to cuddle Woolfie. You get the drift.

But the most Yoongi had done, in all their years of knowing each other, was call and ask if he was down for a drink and/or meal. If it was regarding work, a .wav file over chat. Never has he barged into his house, unannounced. What are the odds of that happening after 8 years of knowing one another? Thrice within 14 days? Sammy wondered.

The first time did indeed take him by surprise.

Sammy was getting out of the gym in his building and heading towards the elevators to climb back to his apartment. He had promised Y/N some of his signature japchae for dinner. She had been nagging him for it ever since she arrived in Seoul. The previous night at Hajoon’s place, he pinky swore that he would make it for dinner the next day. He was ordering all the ingredients he’d need to fulfill that promise. It was as he was going to add spinach to the cart that Yoongi’s caller ID floated on his screen.

“Hel-”

“Are you at home now?”

“Uh-yeah, wh-”

“Okay”

And the line disconnected.

Sammy had intended to call Yoongi back. But by the time, he got back to the apartment and freshened up, he heard the buzz of his doorbell. Expecting his grocery deliveries, Sammy was disappointed to find someone else at the door.

He was more surprised when he realised that someone was Yoongi, with the straps of a tan corduroy tote bag clutched in one of his hands. The two men stared at each other for a few quiet moments - one in confusion, the other in fluster. Meanwhile, Sammy’s groceries arrived and since they were at the door already, the two friends quickly emptied the items and returned the bag to the delivery person.

Once the door was shut, Yoongi held up the bag, saying, “I had some leftover food.”

Sammy nodded. Yoongi had made him food at times when he was sick, and even when he had locked himself in his apartment save the daily hour-long walks with Woolfie to finish his first solo album. This was not a new thing. And even then, the rapper did not announce “I made this for you.” It was always variations of “I made too much,” “I don’t want this anymore,” or sometimes just quietly shoved into the arms, without any explanations.

But what he wondered was why now. He was neither sick nor stressed. They did not even have an ongoing argument that needed to be smoothed over with pensive bribery or a crony bet that required settlement.

“What’d you make?” he asked, carrying the meat that arrived in the delivery alongside a few other boxes to the kitchen.

Yoongi followed with the remaining items in his arms and placed them all, including the bag he was carrying, on the granite-top kitchen island. “Just threw some stuff together,” he lied comfortably. Nobody had to know that he went shopping that noon and handpicked the ribeye fillets among other things.

Sammy smirked at the very vague and characteristically predictable response. “Want some beer?” He saw Yoongi’s head nodding in his peripheral vision as he dived into the fridge to fish out a couple of beer cans.

Stood across from each other, at the kitchen island, the two opened and tipped their cans in silence and took a swig each when Yoongi’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and gestured to Sammy that he would take the call, who nodded back in acknowledgement.

Yoongi walked out of the kitchen with the beer in one hand and his phone held up to the ear in the other.

Sammy was making a mental checklist of the things he needed to soak, wash, peel etc. and in what order as he glanced over the ingredients laid out on the countertop in front of him. When his eyes fell on the tan corduroy bag placed there, curiosity caught up. He dragged it towards himself and brought out the casserole inside it. It was heavier than he anticipated.

He opened the lid to reveal a piping-hot pot full of japchae. His confused frown gave way to a knowing smirk within a couple of seconds when he joined the dots. He closed the lid and continued sipping on his beer as he checked the time on his phone and walked out into his living room.

Y/N will be home soon and things will get interesting, he thought.

Just as he plopped himself on the sofa and turned the TV on, Yoongi, who was perched up against one of the bookshelves, finished his call, shoved his phone in his back pocket and joined his friend.

By now, Woolfie had woken up from his evening nap and strolled out. He wagged his tail and shoved his snoot up Yoongi’s crotch, as he usually does, earning coos and cuddles from the man.

Sammy patted his dog on the back a couple of times from beside his friend, resulting in Woolfie withdrawing from the aforementioned crotch and sitting down in front of the couch, like the goodest (we know it is a valid superlative adjective for all dogs) ever boy that he was. Yoongi chuckled and continued showering pets on the husky till he heard his friend’s almost prosaic statement, made apparently to no one in particular.

“Y/N loves japchae.”

Yoongi tried his best to not react to the statement. He took another swig of his beer attempting to appear nonchalant. But chalant, he was. Of course, he knew Y/N loved japchae. She lamented missing the dish and reprimanded Sammy for a good part of two minutes the previous night for not making it. When Hobi suggested ordering the dish, she rejected the idea claiming she wanted the kind with slightly burnt garlic, the one that Sammy made once by mistake and has since and will forever have to make it that way for this adorable little friend of his.

However, Sammy would never describe Y/N as adorable or little. He would choose something along the lines of tenacious and talkative. Adorable and little were Yoongi’s interjections as he observed the japchae exchange unfold. Adorable because everything about Y/N seemed to warm his heart at that time - her voice, her hand gestures, her face, her anecdotes. And little because he often found himself wishing, throughout the night, to hold her close and safe, near him, like a little flower.

That morning, when they were leaving Hajoon's place, Yoongi remembered the smile she had as she waved her goodbyes. At one point, her eyes landed on him, and she said a simple, “See you around.”

He managed to smile back and nod in acknowledgement. He wished to no one in particular that the around would come sooner than later. Then his eyes fell on the jacket that was draped across her forearm. His jacket. His smile faded and anxiety crept back in.

Yoongi had attempted about twice through the night to will himself into owning up as the owner of the jacket. But he failed. Sometimes he drowned in her eyes, or the curve of her smile. At other times, his will just wasn't strong enough to face the mountain of curses and rebuttals he'd heard about his perceived self, or rather of his absence.

As he saw her drive away with Sammy, he decided what to do. He will cook one of her favourite dishes, directly own up for his fuckery and apologise, no conditions applied. Simple enough plan, one-third of which he seemed to have completed successfully. With his friend's single comment though, all his resolve started to fall apart.

This was too forward, wasn't it? Is he encroaching? In a space where he doesn't belong? Is he making this too easy? Too hard to deal with?

Sammy saw in glee as the top of his friend’s ears and cheeks turned a bashful red. He stopped at a channel playing “Tease Me” by Seo Inguk and paused.

Yoongi gulped down the last bit of beer in that can, crushed the sides a little and cleared his throat. “Everyone loves japchae. It is easy to make.”

“Is that why you made it?”

Yoongi turned to look at his friend and looked into his eyes. Fucker had caught on, had he not? He cursed internally but held his gaze, unfaltering.

“Yes.”

Sammy let out a laugh and did not implore more. If he teased some more, there may be actual smoke coming out of the poor man’s ears.

Before Yoongi could act annoyed about being inflicted with stupid, pointless questions, their attention was drawn by Woolfie’s gentle growling. The dog jumped up on all fours and pattered towards the front door of the duplex, wagging his tail.

Familiar enough action for Sammy, he continued surfing channels without reacting but glanced over at Yoongi ever so often.

Confused by the dog’s sudden departure, his face had a frown in the beginning which smoothened out and gave way to his mouth hanging open ever so slightly when he heard a familiar cooing voice.

Yoongi was not surprised by Y/N’s arrival, he was of course expecting it. He was however not ready for his heart to beat that fast at only her voice, even when sober. For some inexplicable reason, he stood up from the sofa.

He heard Y/N’s giggles from the corridor and when he finally saw her, he regretted standing up because he could feel his heels faltering a bit.

Y/N was half carrying, half dragging the 50-something pound Siberian Husky and muttering phrases like “Yes I missed you too bubba.” “Aww my little baby.” “I know I know.” “I love you so much.” into his fur, which was peppered by pleased grumbles and breathy sighs from the dog. He was quite happy having resigned his weight over to one of his favourite humans, not minding one bit for having his hind feet dragged leisurely across the carpeted floor because she was gone for a tad bit longer than he would have preferred. Fines would have to be paid.

Sammy’s anticipation was killing him but the sight of his child with one of his best friends endeared him a lot more. Grinning at the duo, he clicked a couple of pictures and walked towards one of the shelves.

“Come on big boy, time for your walk,” he called out as he picked out one of Woolfie’s favourite leads. The boy, snapping out of his baby mode, whoofed and ran towards his dad in earnest, earning a giggle from all the adults in the room.

Y/N could place all but one of those sounds. One from her, unmistakable. One from Sammy, who had managed to hook the lead on. She turned to see the source of the third giggle, whose face had now frozen into a taut smile.

Sammy’s voice emerged before the other two people could say anything. “Yoongi, Y/N. Y/N, Yoongi. Y’all remember each other right? From a few hours ago?”

“Yes, of course, hi,” Y/N said.

“Hi,” Yoongi whispered back.

Sammy stopped near the turn of the corridor and said, “Yoongi bought us japchae. He made too much.”

And with that he walked out of the door, laughing once he was out of earshot.

What he left behind was a red Yoongi, warm to the touch. The last thing he heard was, “Oh thank you so much! Hope you are staying for dinner.”

Sammy does not yet know the details of what transpired in the 35 minutes that he was gone. He apologised to Woolfie for cutting their walk short but his curiosity would not allow him to not observe the progress of what could become a legendary love story further down the line. He would even volunteer to write the foreward if a book was ever written on the matter.

Was he building castles in the air? Yes. But was it unfounded? No. Even with the japchae out of the equation, he saw his 33-year-old friend fluster like a teenager with a crush. He also had to stomach about 1:40 minutes of “Oh I thought he was haughty at first but he’s quite a good listener. Helps that he is cute,” from when they started driving back from Hajoon’s place, till Y/N left for work that morning. He liked to believe that he was a realist, but what is life really without the dystopian fantasies of romance we build in our silly little heads?

He had come back to the pair of his friends in the kitchen - Y/N straining out some noodles and adding them to a pan of sauce and Yoongi chopping spring onions, with Ash perched upon his shoulder, observing his skills like a diligent invigilator.

The tail end of the conversation that Sammy managed to catch was - “That is probably a smoother blend, but the aftertaste of Glenfiddich sits better with me,” Y/N said, to which Yoongi replied, “I agree. But you have to try Bowmore once. I might have a bit of the 15-year-old left, I can bring it over next time.”

Which had offered a very flexible segway to the second visit that Yoongi made to Sammy’s place. Sunday night. As Y/N and Sammy were watching the match highlights of an earlier Arsenal vs Liverpool game, the bell rang.

Sammy was less surprised this time when he buzzed Yoongi in. He held up an unopened bottle of Bowmore 15 Scotch Whiskey this time instead of a tote bag. He walked in to see Y/N scream at the TV with half a chicken wing pointed at it with some of it still in her mouth, muffling the expletives.

When she saw Yoongi, she smiled a wide smile to greet him. He smiled back but when he saw the packets of chicken and beer cans strewn around, felt immediately like he was intruding. Intruding into quality time between two people. All because he could not stop thinking about one of these two people at all, and had also not mustered enough courage to exchange numbers with. He admonished himself internally endlessly for everything in the next couple of seconds of silence where he thought of what he could say.

He settled on, “I-uh told you about this,” held the bottle up again, “Thought I would drop it by.” He went up and placed the bottle on the lounge table.

“Are you not staying?” the question was immediate. Innocent enough but filled with a slight tone of disappointment that tugged at his heart.

“Yeah, what the fuck dude. You gotta have at least a couple of drinks with us.” Sammy patted him across the back. That encouraged him.

“Yeah. It’s only going to be fun when you have someone else who also enjoys and understands scotch,” Y/N said, ignoring the hurt Sammy displayed at the slight jab, adding, “Stay for a bit if you have nothing else lined up.” That convinced him.

“I did not mean to interrupt anything,” he said half matter-of-factly, half apologetically.

“We are eating fried chicken and watching a week-old football match. Trust me, you’re adding life to the party,” Y/N said as she scooted over to allow Yoongi enough space to sit by the lounge table, facing the TV.

Yoongi blushed and could feel his ears heat up as he sat down beside her. Y/N did not notice it but Sammy did. “It is true though, Sammy does not really enjoy anything other than a beer.”

“Well, fuck me that I like for my tongue to not burn out of existence,” Sammy grumbled as he brought over three glasses and ice.

A little more than half the bottle was finished that night between Y/N and Yoongi, who bonded quite seamlessly over teasing Sammy about giving up after a single peg, scotch in general and discussions over media’s ever-evolving role in influencing a person’s life choices on a day-to-day basis.

Although Sammy would have offered the sofa to Yoongi for the next few hours anyway, he stepped back when Y/N urged Yoongi to not drive back. He also exaggerated how tired he was with a couple of over-the-top yawns, which would have been suspicious if he was amongst sober company. He therefore hurried back to his bedroom and shut the door, allowing his friends the privacy he thought they probably sought.

He was partly right. Yoongi and Y/N had both wished to have met one-on-one but neither had the balls to ask the other first, caught up within webs of self-doubt and anxious ominosity in their heads. Even with Sammy having retired to his room, as they sat alone, only with each other for company, they did not dare go where their mind sometimes wandered to.

There had been occasional hand and shoulder brushes throughout the night that they managed to glance over. With Sammy gone, though, they became hyper-aware of their proximity. Y/N turned to look at Yoongi and when he did the same, they were one head tip away from a kiss. Theoretically.

He tracked as her eyes moved from his own and fell to his lips and then back.

Y/N could feel warmth wash over all her body. She also felt his warm breath sync with hers. His face was flush and his lips luscious, inviting.

She had thought about these lips often in the past few days. Not intentionally, but she caught herself with her mind wandering quite often. Him - his demeanour, his voice and his attitude pulled her in. If she was reading things right, there was an interest she could read as well. If making the japchae was not a loud enough argument for that school of thought, the glances and the smiles surely were. Since Sunday, there have been a tonne of those and the eyes never lie, right?

And those damned eyes. They seemed familiar but at the same time, she found new depths in them each time she focussed on them. She stared at those dark orbs for a while before tracking back down to his lips.

This man was too beautiful for Y/N to hold her sanity. But she had to try. He was who he was in the public eye, but he was also Sammy’s friend.

Sammy is one of the most important pieces in the stained glass panel of her life. And pursuing something like this with one of his friends and industry peers would intermingle things beyond a point of recovery.

She readjusted her posture with an audible sigh.

Yoongi drew in a sharp breath and looked down at his hands fiddling with a coaster on the floor. An apology sitting at the tip of his tongue. But before he could get it out he could hear Y/N say, “We’re drunk, aren’t we?”

He looked up to see a smile on her face. He would call it fond but there was something else in it. However, he could not stop smiling back. He nodded slightly and let out a huff of giggle. For a moment it felt like he was 16 again.

Y/N slapped her thighs and got up. “I will get you some covers,” and by the time Yoongi managed to drag his ass up onto the couch, she was back with a comforter and a throw blanket.

She held the folded items out to him, “‘s all I could find.” He muttered a thank you and when he went to grab them, his left palm grazed over hers, ever so slightly. But it was enough to spark him awake, out of whatever sleepy haze he was in a moment earlier.

He heard Y/N say “sleep well” on her way back to her room. He lay on his back staring at an empty spot on the ceiling, trying to replay images from earlier that evening and the last thought he remembered having was that he had to ask her out. Properly.

Yoongi woke up to a slight pinching sensation on his chest. He opened his eyes to see Ash making biscuits on his pecs. He nuzzled the kitten closer to his face and drifted off again for a couple of minutes before waking up to a strong waft of coffee that Sammy was brewing in the kitchen.

Y/N had left for work already. Yoongi left soon after coffee and a handful of muesli. He expected Sammy to tease him in some manner but was not met with anything other than what their normal mornings post a night-long drinking session sounded like.

Work kept him busy enough for the next couple of days. But not enough for him to completely ignore what he decided to do. Ask her out. Properly.

Which brings us all to today. Wednesday. Almost midnight. Yoongi was a little taken aback to learn Y/N was not in. But that minor flick of a longing he could not put a name to yet, immediately lit a few of his neurons alight and he had to get the beats and melody down before it slipped away.

Sammy, amused as he was, also impressed by the tune, brought out his trustee Fender CD60 to play around with.

Splayed across the living room floor, with a few beer cans, a couple of notebooks, a guitar and a laptop on each of their laps - that is how Y/N found the two men when she came in after her departmental dinner with a few of her university colleagues.

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