"You can't take care of me now. I got maybe two or three days to be king and then -- I dunno. Dead, maybe, if I'm lucky. You can't be my hyung, let it go." He laughed a little, unsure what else to do. He grinned at Yoongi and then shook his head, turning back around to change up the music and turn it up a little. "Hell no, you'll beat the shit outta me with that one hand. I'm not that much of a stupid kid."
Shaking his head, he scanned through the music on this thing and then paused, pulling a face. "Why do girls these days wear Jordans when they could wear converse highs? I'll never get it." This girl on the album cover was pretty but no converse highs, no Namjoon.
"...you think I'd beat the shit outta you with one hand? Who the fuck do you think I am?" Honestly, the assumption was almost flattering. "And of course I can be your hyung. Stupid kid."
Just to get that thing in there one time. Yoongi paused for a moment at Namjoon's baffling questions, just staring at him in utter confusion. "What?" It was times like this, he could see how he was crazy. Well, and this entire situation, but mostly...
Never mind that Yoongi was wearing converse highs right now, they were good work shoes, but whatever. "That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard. Who cares about that? Just get shoes that are easy to take off."
"Are you fucking kidding me? Man. If I had one day in the world to do anything, I'd go meet the guy who made converse highs and thank him for giving me this gift, you know? Fuck chanel and McQueen. There ain't anyone who doesn't look fine in converse highs and --" As he turned around to make his point, he looked down at Yoongi's shoes, looked back up.
And then he blushed furiously and turned away.
"... I forgot guys wear them. Fuck off." Whatever. He wasn't hitting on Yoongi. "They're just hot. I got, uh, I got a thing for it. It's not a creepy sex thing but I just like them."
"Uh-huh. Don't worry, I don't think you're about to explore your foot fetish with me when you've got K-drama doctor tied to your bed." Well, it was literally true, so whatever. Might as well tease him about it, the situation was so absurd. "Now, K-drama doctor in converse highs, maybe that's the thing to bring it all together."
This had to be the most specific fetish he'd ever heard about. "Weirdo."
"I'm not gonna -- I don't wanna be with the Doc, you know? I just don't want other people to fuck him. He's soft. I think he means well. He pisses me off so he probably does." Namjoon held his head up, giving Yoongi an annoyed look. "I know, I know, I care. Don't say it, I'm tired of hearing it. You're like a broken record." A broken record that was turning him on.
Shit, Jin in converse highs-- that was pretty hot. Not that Yoongi wasn't right now. He couldn't stop sharing at his shoes. "I wrote a song about converse highs... wanna hear it?"
"Good. He's not your type anyway, clearly you're more into guys who studied nothing and got nothing to show for it. I'm the best option in this dating sim." That would be a terrible game. Yoongi leaned back, trying to shift a little. His arms hurt and he really wanted to scratch his thigh where the stupid duct tape had his pants pinch his skin, but that was a strange thing to get obsessed with. It was just much itchier whenever one couldn't actually scratch.
Whatever. "Sure. Show me your weird fetish song." Hey, he had to tease.
"I don't have a type, I never, uh, I never dated. I like converse highs and ... like a white shirt, jeans. I dunno. I never really thought about type. Not that I don't know shit, you know? I've fucked. Dunno if they were my type but I did it in prison." And that pretty much said as much as it needed to say. He shrugged, unsure what else to do with this talk. He didn't know if he had a type. Was Jin it? ... Was Yoongi? "You're pretty handsome."
So. There. He looked back at the phone and shook his head. "For being rude, you don't get to hear it. You can just forever wondered how cool my converse song was."
"Aw, come on. I could do a guest verse about how Jordans are better cause they're easy to take off." And not think about how he was wearing the damn outfit Namjoon was describing. Honestly, it was a common outfit and who had that specific a type anyway? Luckily his jeans weren't visible with the uniform overall, but he supposed his shirt was obvious with the buttons undone.
Maybe Namjoon was trolling him. Although he seemed strangely sincere. "My type is stupid assholes, so you're right up my alley."
"Hey, watch who you call stupid. You know, I was the top 1% of South Korea. Worldwide. IQ 159." He smirked playfully as he turned around in his seat and tried his best to look cocky and cool. "I got a sexy brain, hyung. Nothing is hotter than being smart. I would have done anything I wanted, I could have been anything... and here I am."
He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the music, laughing a little as he switched over to English. "On the plus side, I can appreciate music in so many languages. I was born to be a rapper, man. I got jams."
"Good for you. I... I do music." That was all he really did, all he really ever wanted to do. Producing music. Rapping. Writing songs. "I play ball. Oh, and I'm good at cleaning." Well, it was about his only job qualification. Paid the bills, since music sure wasn't doing that. Maybe one day.
"I prefer Korean." Also, his English sucked. Although of course he used some when rapping. He could do some. "Here we were such a good match and now I'm too dumb for you."
"I just took over a loony bin and I'm sure the cops are gonna storm this place in like three days. We have three guns and I'm already concerned that the immates need more support to not accidentally kill themselves in those three days. Nah, man, you're not too dumb for me. I may be just right." Sticking his tongue out a little, he laughed. And then he froze, a little shocked and unsure what to do. He just laughed. He was laughing, smiling, talking like he had a friend.
And like that, Namjoon felt something snap. What was happening? He gulped hard and got up, trying to open a window so he could breath. "It's hot-- it feels hotter. Is it hot to you? I can't-- it's hard to breathe."
"...Namjoon?" Yeah, that would be one of those times when it would be really useful to not be tied up like this. "Hey. Take a breath. Close your eyes. Keep breathing. Breathe in, then breathe out." Yoongi wished he knew more about... a lot of things, really, but mostly anything related to Namjoon's sickness. He knew he had issues, obviously, but he wasn't a doctor. He had no idea what to do. "Breathe in and out."
"I can't--" Something was wrong. Something was really wrong with him. He kept thinking about Yoongi, his insides were screaming out at him that he was happy and he didn't know how to react. He couldn't seem to get any air, even when he stuck his head out of the window to breathe. He ducked back in and then everything sort of stopped.
And Namjoon fainted.
He wasn't out for long but he cracked his eyes open, groaning where he lay and looking ahead. Oh. Converse highs. "I have a song about those." Shit. He was on the floor. "Hyung, I fell."
All right. So clearly he was missing some memories, Yoongi had heard about that. Hell, he knew that, though in his case it needed a lot of alcohol to forget. The question was how much he was missing and the other thing was how he called him hyung. Just like that. Interesting. Yoongi bit down on his lower lip as he thought, shifting his foot a little, as if to show off the shoes. "You do?"
He just had to figure out how much he remembered. What had caused this? He needed to know if there was a pattern. "Can you show me the song?"
Namjoon didn't get up from where he lay but he did sing his converse song as he watched Yoongi's shoes for a while and then paused, licking his lips before the chorus. "I can't sing for shit. I usually get Jimin to do my chorus." He didn't make a move to get him. Or get up still. He just lay there, head pounding, unsure what was going on and still trying to get his head back together.
"Hyung, don't ruin my song with your bias." And with that, he finished off his verses. Turning his head, he properly looked at Yoongi. "That's a lot of tape." He meant the duct tape.
"That's not a bad song. Y'know, just weird as hell." Well, he wasn't going to let that go entirely, even as he tried to go easy on Namjoon, who was clearly still recovering from... From whatever had just happened. He frowned and then looked down himself, nodding his head. "Yeah. I hate that stuff. My legs been itching since yesterday."
Kind of sucked, honestly. He wanted out of it, but he didn't think Namjoon had changed his mind quite that much. Probably.
Reaching out, he idly tugged at the tape but it had little give and he didn't have much energy. He stayed down still, singing various pieces of songs he wrote and trying to ignore the racing of his heart. He looked up at Yoongi and frowned a little. "I want to be free, you know? Even if they kill me, it's better than this. I always think about Demian. You know it? The book."
He read it a lot in his youth, it meant a lot to him. "In the book, Emil draws a picture and sends it to Demian, it's a bird bursting out of an egg. And his friend replies that the bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world." He licked his lips. "Who would be born must first destroy a world. So. To be free, to escape, we have to destroy"
"You might be taking it too literally. There's lots of ways to wreck without going all the way." Honestly, it was laughable that he was the one giving advice like that. He was self-destructive, he knew that. It wasn't exactly subtle. Definitely not a secret to Namjoon either, who'd heard his songs. "I'd like for you to be free too. We could make music together."
That seemed pretty perfect. "I'll even let you sing about my shoes, you weird creep."
"Too late. I already sealed my fate." Namjoon pulled himself upright and cursed himself, he was being weak and pathetic. Music and good company, he was falling apart. Getting up, he snagged his walkie talkie and tried not to fall over as he steadied himself. He just had to get out. "I'l come back, I'll bring food. You'll be safe. I'll-- you'll be fine. Safe. Good."
Namjoon hurried to the door, trying to get out before he freaked out again.
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Shaking his head, he scanned through the music on this thing and then paused, pulling a face. "Why do girls these days wear Jordans when they could wear converse highs? I'll never get it." This girl on the album cover was pretty but no converse highs, no Namjoon.
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Just to get that thing in there one time. Yoongi paused for a moment at Namjoon's baffling questions, just staring at him in utter confusion. "What?" It was times like this, he could see how he was crazy. Well, and this entire situation, but mostly...
Never mind that Yoongi was wearing converse highs right now, they were good work shoes, but whatever. "That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard. Who cares about that? Just get shoes that are easy to take off."
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And then he blushed furiously and turned away.
"... I forgot guys wear them. Fuck off." Whatever. He wasn't hitting on Yoongi. "They're just hot. I got, uh, I got a thing for it. It's not a creepy sex thing but I just like them."
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This had to be the most specific fetish he'd ever heard about. "Weirdo."
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Shit, Jin in converse highs-- that was pretty hot. Not that Yoongi wasn't right now. He couldn't stop sharing at his shoes. "I wrote a song about converse highs... wanna hear it?"
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Whatever. "Sure. Show me your weird fetish song." Hey, he had to tease.
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So. There. He looked back at the phone and shook his head. "For being rude, you don't get to hear it. You can just forever wondered how cool my converse song was."
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Maybe Namjoon was trolling him. Although he seemed strangely sincere. "My type is stupid assholes, so you're right up my alley."
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He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the music, laughing a little as he switched over to English. "On the plus side, I can appreciate music in so many languages. I was born to be a rapper, man. I got jams."
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"I prefer Korean." Also, his English sucked. Although of course he used some when rapping. He could do some. "Here we were such a good match and now I'm too dumb for you."
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And like that, Namjoon felt something snap. What was happening? He gulped hard and got up, trying to open a window so he could breath. "It's hot-- it feels hotter. Is it hot to you? I can't-- it's hard to breathe."
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And Namjoon fainted.
He wasn't out for long but he cracked his eyes open, groaning where he lay and looking ahead. Oh. Converse highs. "I have a song about those." Shit. He was on the floor. "Hyung, I fell."
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He just had to figure out how much he remembered. What had caused this? He needed to know if there was a pattern. "Can you show me the song?"
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"Hyung, don't ruin my song with your bias." And with that, he finished off his verses. Turning his head, he properly looked at Yoongi. "That's a lot of tape." He meant the duct tape.
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Kind of sucked, honestly. He wanted out of it, but he didn't think Namjoon had changed his mind quite that much. Probably.
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He read it a lot in his youth, it meant a lot to him. "In the book, Emil draws a picture and sends it to Demian, it's a bird bursting out of an egg. And his friend replies that the bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world." He licked his lips. "Who would be born must first destroy a world. So. To be free, to escape, we have to destroy"
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That seemed pretty perfect. "I'll even let you sing about my shoes, you weird creep."
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Namjoon hurried to the door, trying to get out before he freaked out again.