Fix You (MYG) Book 2 of BTS 2026 series

Drunk

Yoongi has been playing DJ for Sena most of the afternoon in the studio room of his apartment. He's tried to find deep cuts he's sure she won't have heard, or might not even be old enough to have heard, but he has yet to find something she doesn't have some knowledge of, some opinion on, or a story behind. It's both alluring, and incredibly annoying that she knows so much about music because he can't seem to stump her, or, impress her.

The liquor doesn't taste quite so bad after the fourth drink, or maybe it's the fifth. He hasn't eaten so he's not sure anymore. He doesn't even mind sipping it. Maybe he can't feel his tongue. He touches it with his fingers to check. He laughs feeling the dizziness of the intoxication as he lays back on his couch. Sena has been dancing furiously to a track still playing over his speakers. She's probably a much better dancer when she's not completely drunk. He smiles watching her, thinking about how free she must feel to be dancing around his studio barefoot, her ponytail twirling around her head. She pulls out her phone.

"Let me play one for you, can I?" She jumps up and down excited. He sits up. "Let me pair my phone to your speaker." She starts tapping at her screen and he struggles to lift himself off of the couch. He punches something into his computer and takes her phone from her hand, setting it up to play over the sound system. As the song begins, he sits back in his chair at the desk to listen, and she begins to sway to the music, slow and methodical, but rising, and getting louder as a vocal comes in. "I bet you've never heard this," she says dancing a little faster as the beat shifts. She reaches up and pulls at the band holding her hair and lets it drop down around her shoulders. She shakes her head as she moves to the music.

He listens, hoping to prove her wrong, and swivels back and forth in his chair facing her as she dances, not paying any attention to him. He tilts his head back on the chair, watching her, his eyes hooded, tired from erratic sleep, and woozy from drink. The vocal gets louder and a smile starts to spread across his face as he recognizes something about it. She stops mid move, and looks at him, watching his smile grow.

"Ahh, see now you think you've heard it before, right?" She creeps closer, her body swaying from the alcohol, and she holds her finger out in front of her, pointing at him. His head nods just once.

"I've heard the voice, somewhere. I must know this," he says hoping to win this round of the game they've been playing all afternoon. She moves closer to him, still pointing her finger as she shakes her head.

"Nope, you haven't heard this before." He looks at her curiously, squinting as he thinks about it.

"How can you be so sure?" Her body is so close to him, leaning toward his face as she begins to smile slyly.

"Because this is my song." His eyes pop open as he stares at her. He stops swiveling in the chair. She touches his chest with her outstretched finger, sending a shockwave through him as she traces a line up to his chin. She grabs his face with her hand sloppily, making his mouth form a pout. "That's me. I wrote this." His mouth drops open as he tries to focus on her. She holds his face tightly in one hand and she moves it back and forth slowly as she says, "but no one has ever heard it." She lets go of his face and stands up, still swaying a little in front of him. He stares at her, with a new purposeful look, now focused sharply, her voice in his head, swirling around the words, and music, she wrote. "I write a lot of songs. I record them. And then I file them away." She waves her arm above her head to punctuate the end of each sentence in a drunken salute. He stares hard at her form, in front of him, arm stretched up, raising her shirt a little so a hint of her bare skin above the waistline of her jeans peeks out.

She looks down at him wondering why he's gone quiet and in the instant her eyes meet his, he rises up abruptly in front of her, suddenly so close to her she almost stumbles backwards. She studies him curiously, and tries to make sense of the new expression on his face. He takes one step closer to her, and grabs her head with both hands, crashing his lips into hers before she knows what's happening. She feels his body shift closer, leaning against her, as his kiss grows stronger. She pauses for a moment, allowing herself to be kissed, feeling his breath against her skin, the wetness of his mouth pressed against hers, and his fingers sliding through her hair. She brings her arms up to wrap around him, feeling the smooth fabric of his shirt and the heat of his skin underneath. He moves towards her, pushing her back until she is stopped by the wall behind them. He presses against her, trying to get closer to her. She pulls her head back, taking her lips away and he kisses her cheek and her neck as she gasps for air.

"Yoongi," she says in an aching, breathy voice, her eyes sealed shut, her head turning away. He pulls his lips away from her skin long enough to whisper to her.

"You are so beautiful," he mutters, moving his head to capture her lips again. His hands drop down to her waist and he pulls her body closer. He wants to say so much to her, his brain won't let him focus on anything but the smell of her skin, and the softness of her lips, the warmth of her mouth. She pulls her head away from him, sliding it against the wall to lean her body away.

"Yoongi," she whispers again. He ignores her and continues to kiss her neck, his hands now sliding up under her top, and touching the bare skin of her stomach. "I thought you couldn't stand me," she reminds him.

"That was yesterday," he says reaching for her, his lips coming back to her skin as she moves away from the wall. She laughs at his admission but leans farther away.

"So what's changed today?" She pushes at his chest, hoping he will stop kissing her neck long enough to answer. He pauses a moment, and laughs. She feels his breath against her skin.

"I'm drunk," he says, enjoying his joke a little too much. The words are like ice shooting through her veins, sobering her instantly. She pushes him away forcefully.

"You're an ass!" she says, storming out of the studio, leaving the door swung wide.  He pauses, his arms still hanging in the air as he turns and looks at the empty doorway.  An awkward smile appears and he laughs at himself, and the situation, but it hurts a little, and he's unsure how to make it right. He hears his front door slam shut and he slumps over onto his couch, covering his eyes with his arm.

"Shit," he mumbles as the room begins to spin.