Request: Hi!!! Can you please do 1)“You can’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.” with B.A.P. Yongguk?? Please make it really angsty with a fluffy ending❤Thanks!!!
Member: BAP Yongguk x Y/N
Type: Angst (warning: mentions of anxiety/depression)
A soft glow radiated from the bottom of the studio door. You approached it slowly, quietly, moving as if you were on a covert mission. You attempted to relax your breathing, trying to make it shallow enough so you could hear over the rattling in your lungs.
You cursed silently, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as you stood before the door. A low hum bumped the metal surface, signaling that there was life still inside. You knocked gently, remaining perfectly still as you waited.
“Yeah?” the gruff voice within barked. You winced as you eased the door open, basking the dark hallway in a warm light.
“Gukkie?” you squeaked, tilting your head around the corner. There was a thin figure sitting at the mixing board, nodding his head back and forth. You’d recognize the slender frame anywhere, even with a hood and bucket hat masking his face. “Yongguk?”
The man refused to look up as he continued to bop to the beat. You swept a cursory glance around the room, identifying all of the signs that he had been there over 24 hours. He had on one lamp, dimly lit from it’s exhaustive hours spent alive. The couch tucked in the back corner of the room was adorned with a crumpled blanket and a few pillows, an appropriate nest when he decided to take a fifteen minute break. Pizza boxes and to-go bags littered the small table placed in front of the couch, and you couldn’t count on all ten fingers and toes how many disposable coffee cups you saw.
“Yongguk,” you repeated, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. You flipped the light switch on the wall, causing him to finally look up and wince into the light.
“Shut it off,” he growled, yanking his headphones from his ears and tossing them on the mixing board.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you grumbled, obeying his command nonetheless.
“You know me,” he sighed, swiveling to look up at you for the first time.
You attempted to mask the gasp that escaped your lips as your eyes traced his face. This was easily the most exhausted you had ever seen him. You were used to Yongguk being skinny and sleep-deprived, sure, that came with the territory. But this…this wasn’t him. His all black clothing hung loosely from his body, desperately needing a wash after several days. His face was gaunt, the space below his cheekbones almost hollow. The bags beneath his eyes were dark and heavy, signifying something deeper than you could even begin to realize.
“What?” he groaned. “Are you here to lecture me? I’m so close to being done, Y/N. Just a little more time.”
“Gukkie,” you cooed, easing into a crouching position. You knew Yongguk was particular and often had a heavy atmosphere around him as he worked. You didn’t want to overwhelm him by looming over his shoulder, but instead wanted to put him at ease. “When did you last leave the studio.”
“Sunday,” he nodded confidently. “I haven’t been here too-”
“It’s Tuesday,” you said quietly, smiling at him sadly. Yongguk straightened up before turning to his computer screen. He squinted at the time and nodded.
“Ha, it is. That’s funny…it didn’t feel like…” he trailed. He pulled off his hood and then his hat, scrubbing a tired hand through his long tendrils. “I’m almost done.”
“How about I take you home?” you asked softly. You didn’t want to leave the words with a negative connotation, like what he was doing was wrong. He was only passionately following his work, but sometimes enough was enough. “You can have a shower and we can get some food into-”
“I’ve been eating,” he confirmed.
“Have you slept?” you asked
“A little,” he whispered sheepishly, not able to look at you directly.
“Probably not nearly as much as your mind needs,” you sighed, resting your hand on his knee. “Your mind and body are just as important to your career as your music is. You need to show it just as much attention.”
“I will,” he confirmed. “I almost have this song perfect, Y/N. I promise I’ll go to bed after that.”
You heaved a sigh and plopped onto the floor beside him, recognizing you were in for a battle that you hadn’t prepared for today.
Then again, that was Yongguk every day.
You knew your boyfriend suffered from anxiety. It was nearly as bad as it had been when you originally met, but as his spotlight grew, so did his anxiousness. It had nearly killed him when he took a hiatus from music to pay closer attention to himself, but he had come back healthier than ever. You could tell he had missed the stage, missed his brothers who he had shared so much love and tragedy with.
But with that, he also returned with an insurmountable amount of guilt on his shoulders. See, the funny thing about depression and anxiety was, no matter how much he could preach about self worth and positive affirmations, it will always strike when he least expected it.
You couldn’t pretend to know how Yongguk felt. Everyone’s anxiety was different, his included, but you knew when he arrived back to the studio, he felt a pressure he had unknowingly placed on himself to create something incredibly beautiful to signify his return to his group. He hadn’t felt self inflicted guilt like that since the days during the lawsuit, so the feeling was that of an old friend, a scratchy sweater you never really enjoyed but were forced to wear with the changing of the seasons.
He couldn’t pretend to cope. He could only work through it the best he could. When his members no longer knew what to do, that’s when they called you in.
“Yongguk…you can’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm,” you whispered, hoping the words wouldn’t effect hm negatively. It was the truth, and although you understood what he was battling, you also knew he couldn’t keep tearing himself down.
“Y/N,” he sighed, spinning to face you again. “…I don’t know what else to do.”
You bit your lip as Yongguk did the same, spinning so he wouldn’t have to face you. “I close my eyes, but the fire only burns brighter in the dark…and I’ve destroyed myself so many times for something beautiful, what’s one more?”
“What’s one more?” you whispered, trying to keep the tears from welling up on your lashes. You had to remain calm. You had to support him. He didn’t want to embrace his anxieties any more than you did. “Jagi, if you keep setting yourself on fire, there’s only going to be ashes left.”
“I hate this metaphor,” Yongguk groaned, his face falling into his hands. “It makes me feel like I’m falling apart.”
“You aren’t,” you cooed. “It’s just time to step back for a moment.”
“I can’t,” he insisted. “The producers expect a title track from me. It’s what we fought for. It’s what I fought for…we wanted all of this responsibility…and we wanted to be treated like humans. Isn’t the irony that we can’t even treat ourselves that way?”
He looked up to the ceiling, bitter as his lips continued to wrap around words. “We were gone for so long. And now I…I’m the leader and I had left…”
“Taking the appropriate time to take care of things, most importantly yourself,” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you and all you’ve done.”
“Then why can’t I be?” he said, his voice barely above a breath.
You thought your heart would break into a thousand pieces as you looked up at the man you thought so much of. He was defeated and tired, everything you didn’t want for him in life. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out any way to get him home. The world was always sunnier after a few hours of sleep.
“First goal,” you hum. “Get out of the chair.”
“What?” he asked, furrowing his brows, confusion covering his face.
“I know your body is heavy and tired,” you cooed. “So that’s our first goal. We’re going to get you out of that chair.”
“What do you not understand about-” he began, irritation lacing his tone. He paused for a moment, making a mental note not to speak with you angrily when you’re only trying to help. He nodded. “Fine, what’s the goal after that.”
“We focus on one at a time,” you nodded happily. “On a scale of one to ten, how hard is it to get out of the chair? Ten being horrifying. One being like Goku after eating a Senzu bean.”
“Do I really have to humor you right now?” he groaned. You knew he would try to escape your enthusiasm by feigning being aloof, but you wouldn’t have it.
“Scale,” you repeated, trying to get him to focus.
“Alright, like a five,” he grumbled.
“Okay,” you confirmed, pulling yourself to your feet. You lifted his hands from his lap and began to tug them gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“The song,” he whined.
“Will still be here in a few hours after you’ve rested,” you smiled. “I promise. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how hard is it to get yourself to take a shower?”
“Are you saying I smell?” he whimpered.
“I’m saying a steamy shower cleans more than just your skin,” you grinned. “You can come out of it feeling like a whole new person.”
“Fine. Three. You made it sound better than I thought,” he muttered, slipping on his sandals and shuffling down the hall. “Then I can go to sleep and then go back to the studio?”
“We’ll negotiate,” you grinned. “We have to take care of you first.”
“…Y/N?” he sighed, spinning to grab your hand and hold your pinky loosely.
“Thank you,” he whispered
“You’re welcome,” you chirped.
“You aren’t going to ask what I’m thanking you for?” he asked, lifting his brows.
“Fine, what are you thanking me for?” you sighed.
“Not treating me like I’m broken…but helping me through. Things are much easier when I can realize I’m not on my own in this,” he nodded, the first genuine grin finding his face. He wrapped a gentle arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close, snuggling his face into your hair. “Thank you.”