[10 out of 20] BTS: Gen
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sweetandshortTitle: Matchmaking
Fandom: BTS AU
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Prompt: music
Summary: Seokjin's matchmaking is thwarted.
“What a disaster,” said Seokjin while lighting another candle. “Are you certain this isn’t your fault, Namjoon?”
“Even I can’t manage a city-wide blackout, hyung.”
Seokjin fixed him with a look.
“Well, I might be able to manage it,” admitted Namjoon, “but I didn’t in this case. The best laid plans…”
There was a silence.
“What?”
“Finish your sentence, Namjoon. I don’t know that one.”
“The original is: The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men / Gang aft agley, / An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, / For promis’d joy! It means plans often go wrong.”
“Well, our plan to arrange a meeting of your friend Hoseok and my friend Yoongi, whom we suspect to be true soulmates, with old-fashioned mirrored birthmarks, bless them, has, uh, gang aft agley. Thank goodness most of this is picnic nibbles and will keep until…”
“Until the city’s no longer at standstill. Nothing’s running, busses, subway, traffic’s a nightmare.”
“Dangerous,” agreed Seokjin. “But I hear something running. Or rather someone.”
“HYUNGS!”
“Jungkook, how did you get here?”
“I ran up the stairs!”
“All of them?” cried Namjoon in disbelief.
“That’s dangerous, Jungkook,” added Seokjin.
“Nah, emergency lights, but I have good news!”
“We could use some,” said Seokjin ruefully.
“Guess who is stuck in the fourth elevator?” He grinned a bunny grin and then broke into a song about matchmaking.
“No!”
“Yes!”
Seokjin joined him in song, and they danced around the room by the light of candles and oil lamps, and Namjoon wasted valuable battery life on his phone recording it.
Two hours later, Hoseok reappeared in Seokjin’s living room, freshly showered. “Thank you so much for the lone of the clothes, hyung,” he called.
“No problem. You better?” replied Seokjin from the kitchen.
“So much better.”
“Here. Would you like some?” Yoongi approached, offering Hoseok a plate of food.
Hoseok froze.
“Um.” Yoongi turned pink. His voice dropped to a mumble. “Hyung’s a good cook, I got a bit of everything,
not sure what you’d like, didn’t mean to presume, of course, you can make your own plate…”
Hoseok interrupted him. “Yoongi.”
“Yes?”
“Your wrist.”
“That?”
“Tattoo?” asked Hoseok in a strange voice.
“No,” said Yoongi with a self-deprecating huff. He set down the plate. “You aren’t going to believe this, but it’s actually a…”
“Soul-mark?” asked Hoseok, turning his own wrist over to display a birthmark identical to Yoongi, save for the image was reversed.
“Damn.” Shaking slightly, he held out his wrist and Hoseok turned his own wrist to touch, rolling them to align the marks.
“That means we’re…”
“Soulmates. No wonder I felt so reassured by your presence in the elevator.”
“You did? I mean, feel reassured?”
“You saved my sanity, Yoongi.”
“Oh. I’m glad. Sorry I’m so shy. I did want to talk to you, but I couldn’t figure out what to say, how to start.”
“Thank goodness for good music.”
“And good friends,” said Seokjin quietly from his eavesdropping position by the kitchen door.
Fandom: BTS AU
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Prompt: music
Summary: Seokjin's matchmaking is thwarted.
“What a disaster,” said Seokjin while lighting another candle. “Are you certain this isn’t your fault, Namjoon?”
“Even I can’t manage a city-wide blackout, hyung.”
Seokjin fixed him with a look.
“Well, I might be able to manage it,” admitted Namjoon, “but I didn’t in this case. The best laid plans…”
There was a silence.
“What?”
“Finish your sentence, Namjoon. I don’t know that one.”
“The original is: The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men / Gang aft agley, / An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, / For promis’d joy! It means plans often go wrong.”
“Well, our plan to arrange a meeting of your friend Hoseok and my friend Yoongi, whom we suspect to be true soulmates, with old-fashioned mirrored birthmarks, bless them, has, uh, gang aft agley. Thank goodness most of this is picnic nibbles and will keep until…”
“Until the city’s no longer at standstill. Nothing’s running, busses, subway, traffic’s a nightmare.”
“Dangerous,” agreed Seokjin. “But I hear something running. Or rather someone.”
“HYUNGS!”
“Jungkook, how did you get here?”
“I ran up the stairs!”
“All of them?” cried Namjoon in disbelief.
“That’s dangerous, Jungkook,” added Seokjin.
“Nah, emergency lights, but I have good news!”
“We could use some,” said Seokjin ruefully.
“Guess who is stuck in the fourth elevator?” He grinned a bunny grin and then broke into a song about matchmaking.
“No!”
“Yes!”
Seokjin joined him in song, and they danced around the room by the light of candles and oil lamps, and Namjoon wasted valuable battery life on his phone recording it.
Two hours later, Hoseok reappeared in Seokjin’s living room, freshly showered. “Thank you so much for the lone of the clothes, hyung,” he called.
“No problem. You better?” replied Seokjin from the kitchen.
“So much better.”
“Here. Would you like some?” Yoongi approached, offering Hoseok a plate of food.
Hoseok froze.
“Um.” Yoongi turned pink. His voice dropped to a mumble. “Hyung’s a good cook, I got a bit of everything,
not sure what you’d like, didn’t mean to presume, of course, you can make your own plate…”
Hoseok interrupted him. “Yoongi.”
“Yes?”
“Your wrist.”
“That?”
“Tattoo?” asked Hoseok in a strange voice.
“No,” said Yoongi with a self-deprecating huff. He set down the plate. “You aren’t going to believe this, but it’s actually a…”
“Soul-mark?” asked Hoseok, turning his own wrist over to display a birthmark identical to Yoongi, save for the image was reversed.
“Damn.” Shaking slightly, he held out his wrist and Hoseok turned his own wrist to touch, rolling them to align the marks.
“That means we’re…”
“Soulmates. No wonder I felt so reassured by your presence in the elevator.”
“You did? I mean, feel reassured?”
“You saved my sanity, Yoongi.”
“Oh. I’m glad. Sorry I’m so shy. I did want to talk to you, but I couldn’t figure out what to say, how to start.”
“Thank goodness for good music.”
“And good friends,” said Seokjin quietly from his eavesdropping position by the kitchen door.
