Yoonmin Oneshots

Comfort

18+ chapter in the works, here's a big of angst/fluff for ya :)

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The stress swells to a point, and as his mind drifts for the nth, Yoongi loses it. Furiously, he swipes his desk clean, items such as his coffee mug, papers, and notebooks falling violently to the floor.

His chest heaves as he stands, turning and flinging his desk chair at the wall behind him, the plastic making a sickening crack sound as it collides with the soundproof surface.

"FUCK!!" He screams, burying his hands in his hair as frustrated, angry tears fill his eyes. Everything is going fucking wrong. He can't get the damn tracks to play right, he can't think of any lyrics, and he hasn't slept in days. As much as Yoongi loves his job and craves the fire that ignites inside him whenever he produces another hit album, it also weighs heavily on his emotional and physical health. The tracks need to be done by next week, and there is absolutely nothing about the song that is up to Yoongi's expectations.

He also brings his mind to the spat he had with his boyfriend that morning. Jimin had been upset at the amount of time Yoongi was spending in his office and neglecting his health. He was nagging at the elder to take care of himself and to put more effort into their relationship instead of drowning himself in his job. Yoongi, who had woke up on the wrong side of the bed, had lost his patience, which had resulted in a screaming match between the two. It had ended with Yoongi storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him as Jimin sank to his knees in tears.

As his mind floods with fury and guilt, he lets out an animalistic scream and takes the small succulent that sits on his desk, hurling it at the wall, the door opening just as it explodes into a billion tiny pieces.

There is a loud yelp, and Yoongi turns his blazing gaze onto the unlucky visitor that happens to drop by at the worst time fucking possible. His chest constricts, however, as Jimin trembles behind the semi open door, his eyes wide with fear as they survey the destroyed studio.

Yoongi lets out a filthy string of curses as Jimin takes a tentative step inside the room, surveying the results of Yoongi's rage induced haze.

"H-hyung, w-what...?"

Yoongi pulls at his hair again, wincing at the harsh pain, a dry humorless laugh bubbling in his throat. Hot, angry tears drip down his cheeks as he is crushed with the weight of his emotions and his problems.

Jimin hurriedly sets down the bag of takeout he's been carrying on the studio's couch and picks his way through the mess Yoongi made until he stands in front of the distraught elder.

"Hyung, please breathe..." He urges, Yoongi throwing his head back and laughing sarcastically.

"I can't fucking do anything right, can I?" He sneers, more to himself than to Jimin, who pales in front of him. "I'm such a fuckup, a piece of fucking shit!"

He pushes his way past a stammering Jimin, who watches fearfully as Yoongi's entire frame heaves with a mix of broken sobs and maniacal laughter. His hands fly to his mouth to stifle a scream as Yoongi's fist collides violently with the wall, the crack of plaster and of bones ringing throughout the studio.

"JESUS, HYUNG, STOP!!" Scrambling forward, Jimin throws his arms around the elder in an attempt to restrain him. Yoongi laughs depreciatively, his entire body sagging in Jimin's embrace as his demented laughs turn to sobs.

As he watches his boyfriend crumple in front of him, any trace of the hurt from their fight flees Jimin's mind, and his only focus becomes bringing Yoongi back from the edge. As he sits the man down on the black leather couch, Yoongi falls forward to hang his head between his knees, an outpouring of stuttered breaths and cries falling from his trembling lips.