Chapter Text
"So, what do we think of the new version," Chanyeol asks.
Yixing curls his toes inside his socks as Baekhyun starts his overview. This early in the meeting it’s mostly platitudes and generalizations. They’ll get into the meat of it soon and until then he has to wait. His comments are both long and may take a while to properly discuss. Other people need to be eased into talks like this, he reminds himself.
He takes a sip of the warm water in front of him and draws his legs up into his chair before wrapping around one of them. It really is best if some of the others go first in the hopes that they’ll cover some of what he has to say. The water fills his mouth as though it might prevent the words which threaten to spill out of his mouth like scrolls unfurling and accusing.
He plucks against the fabric of his sleeve, unraveling his threads. Not as good as it would be if it was his skin, the threads only the smallest substitute for those terrible ribbons of words. Once he opens his mouth they won’t stop.
“Okay my turn.” On screen Jongdae is leaning back in his chair, fist rhythmically tapping his palm. “First off, and I’m just going to say this outright, I have a lot of problems with the changes he’s proposed, especially the new lyrics.” Jongdae’s eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth purses gently, voice slightly raised and Yixing exhales a sigh of relief as one ribbon goes away.
Belatedly, he remembers to nod his agreement.
They need to send this version out to Taemin tonight but thankfully he's not likely to be asleep any time soon. The thing is that they should be close. The previous version, Taemin had more or less okayed.
Chanyeol is playing with a rubber ball, throwing it from hand to hand. “That line you’d written before was so tight, Lay-hyung,” Chanyeol says with a sigh.
“He wants it changed because it wasn’t on message, not because it didn’t sound good,” Baekhyun cuts in. “We’re the best, so the new version will sound good too.”
Chanyeol is drumming out a beat on his desk while he throws the ball into the air with his free hand and Yixing rubs his neck in time to it. “It’s really not so bad though. I think I can balance it out, keep what he’s after but make some changes to those lines and to some of the surrounding ones.”
The other men on the call have expressions on their faces that are difficult to parse. At least Yixing can be reasonably sure that they don’t disagree with Chanyeol, not fully. And he does trust Chanyeol, trusts his expertise, likes to make music with him, it’s just that Jongdae’s starting to nod and the song is wrong and it’s under his skin like fire, only barely seeping through old scabs–
“–The overall balance of the song is off now,” the words spill out rapid shot. “If the hook doesn’t work, people won’t listen to the song, and then the message doesn’t come out.”
He clasps his hands in his lap but can’t help but continue. “We need to do better than what we’ve got right now. I will not release it in this state, not with my name, not with our studio’s name on it.”
It’s all out there now. His hand creeps up onto his neck.
They’re his friends, they’re long time collaborators. They know him.
How long has there been silence?
Jongdae on screen now, talking. He rubbed at the back of the neck, trying to get out of his head enough to properly parse Jongdae’s Korean.
Did he shout? He doesn’t know.
Pick.
Pick.
Fire, under his flesh. Song in his ears. Skin beneath nails. The maddening chorus of a wrong song. “-we should just send him three versions of the song and use the music to convince him that our new versions are better than what he originally proposed.” Jongdae’s voice like a rising tide but there’s a round of nodding from Chanyeol and Baekhyun and it’s fresh water amongst all the salt. “Chanyeol, I know you think that so long as we balance them out, we’ll all have a good sound out of it-” Chanyeol is already tapping enthusiastically against his soundboard but he’s vigorously nodding his head yes anyways, the ball somewhere off camera now that he’s making music again. Yixing wants that for himself, for the call to be over and for him to be back to fixing the music and though he trusts Chanyeol’s work, he can’t help but feel like it will be insufficient for the task ahead of them because this piece needs so much more than that changed at this point–
“-but I think Yixing’s suggestion of some more radical changes needs to be pursued.”
Oh.
Three. Versions.
One of them will be his. A chance to make the changes that the song needs.
He immediately pulls out his notebook and starts flipping through it. “First, I want you all to play both versions of the song, Taemin’s and then the draft we sent him,” and the words trips out of his mouth, tangling up syllables.
Thankfully none of the team corrects him. Maybe Minseok is right and they’ve all tuned out his accent and struggles with Korean over the years. Besides, words don’t matter, all that matters is– Yixing turns his head to the monitor where he’s been working on the song and presses play.
He rubs gently at the back of his neck, doing his best to ignore the BadWrong that spills out of both of them now and then continues his line of thought. “We’ve worked with Taemin a lot before. He knows what he’s talking about with music and the sections he pointed out do have weaknesses.”
Everyone makes murmurs of agreements.
“So I agree, the sections he pointed out need to change and Baekhyun is right, it’s important that we’re sure his message comes through. I’ve got some different changes in mind, I just need to finish working them out.”
He plays a section of the hook and then hums out his change. “Some of them are smaller ones like what Chanyeol is suggesting, but some more radical changes to the rest of the song are also needed, in my opinion. For instance, at the 1:28 timecode, you might notice that in addition to the lyric change he’s also suggesting changing it so that the line ends going down…”
Yixing loses himself in the music, talking through his problems now that he has the weight off of his shoulders. For the time being, he doesn’t have solutions to all the problem areas but it is good to talk them over with his team, to hear their points of view properly now that they’re all on the same page.
Finally he looks away and back towards the screen with the video call. Smiles and nods all around.
More terrifying, confidence in him.
But this is his job and he will not let them down. Whatever needs doing tonight, he knows he can make it happen. “You two know that Jongdae and I will be around if you need us to re-record any of the vocals,” Baekhyun stands and crunches one of the empty energy drink cans on the table. “Good talk everybody! I’ll take a nap and a break so you know the drill, call if I’m not responding to my texts!”
Chanyeol groans and mimes throwing his rubber ball, clearly recovered from wherever he’d dropped it, at the screen. While Baekhyun and Jongdae have to hurry up and wait, Yixing and Chanyeol’s nights will be looking very different.
“If you still aren’t ready for me by the time that’s done, I’ll be practicing for our next project,” Baekhyun continues then gives a wink. “I hear it has a lot of screaming.”
Yixing and Jongdae exchange glances over the video call and roll their eyes, not that the other two notice.
“Fuck you, Byun Baekhyun!” Every drop of Chanyeol’s sputtering is picked up by his high quality speaker.
Baekhyun’s teasing of Chanyeol has definitely picked up since he started seeing Junmyeon, their mutual partner. He’s sure Minseok knows more but Yixing hasn’t bothered to ask. In any event, this no longer needs him so he turns away and puts one headphone over his ear, humming through the problem lyrics and then playing the version they’d sent over in the first place.
Like he said earlier, it’s not as though Taemin is wrong about where the weakest segments of the song are. But being myopic about them won’t work and Yixing can’t stand the idea of releasing subpar music, especially as the main composer and arranger. Chanyeol might think he can fix it on the production side but that isn’t radical enough. Yixing needs to zoom out and rework the song as a whole. Chanyeol’s pitch increases in a concerning fashion and Yixing hums louder, working through the problem sections until he has to pull out his guitar and try the chords again. He changes a few of them, trying to see where a less radical approach could be possible, paying special attention to sections that any of the other members had pointed out.
Soon he’s working through the chord progression again, and yes that is a bit better but it still loses the snap that they were looking for. He visualizes Taemin and Jongin’s demos of their dance and knows that they need a proper drop. Chanyeol and Baekhyun have switched to staging some kind of loud protest and Yixing gives up and mutes them. It’ll ping them both as usual and he turns away from the screen before running through the song again, this time pulling up the beats on his computer even though he can already feel it humming through his veins, discordant sections and all.
He reminds himself of Taemin's brief, of the duo dance that he and Jongin are preparing for their newest work. Some discordance is needed, Taemin had emphasized in the original outline but Yixing knows that the current discordance is fully the wrong kind. He dances through a few of the steps, imagining their push and pull before a text pings and then gets read aloud automatically.
Hyung, I’m thinking of coming over for a drink with M-hyung after we’re finally free of this call. I’m going to need one and I want a drive to calm down. Y/N? - JD They both know that Minseok won't mind even though the time is, Yixing checks, 10pm and maybe it will help, having Jongdae’s voice singing through Yixing’s variations instead of his own.
Yixing himself doesn’t have to take a break, he reminds himself. But maybe if he can sort out at least one section, it’ll stop screaming quite so loud at him.
And Jongdae hasn’t been over when both Minseok and Yixing have been in for quite a while–
The warm, heavy pounding of music filling a dark dance floor, his husband behind him, their long-time friend in front of him, grinding against them in turn as though he was a telephone wire connecting their cans, conveying a message between the two of them–
He sinks his teeth into his lips and his mind clears of the stubborn memory.
The biting pain is blissful for one satisfying moment before he remembers himself.
Shit.
Bad, Yixing, he tells himself, ticks it down on the whiteboard on the wall. He’s going to have quite a debt to Minseok when this project is over.
Biting your lips makes them split, Minseok’s imagined voice fills his ear. If you’re going to struggle with a split lip while you try and suck my cock, it’s going to be one that I gave you.
He rubs his thumb over the injured skin. If only it didn’t feel quite so good.
Jongdae maybe hasn’t been over quite so many times with the three of them since that night but they talk almost every day for work and nothing’s been weird. Besides, he’s been over so many times before and they’ve gotten hammered and nothing’s happened. What happens on the dance floor isn’t real life, he should know better.
As if on queue his ankle twinges and he pumps down his industrial sized biofreeze to cover the perpetually tight muscles before reaching back to get his back as well.
His phone beeps again, reminding him of the unsent text.
Y fine, he replies. Doesn’t let himself think any further than that.
On screen, he sees Jongdae receive the text and reluctantly turns the sound back on.
“–and you take every excuse to bicker these days!” Jongdae is yelling and Yixing moves to quickly turn down the volume. Even with the volume turned down, no one could mistake it for anything but anger. Jongdae looks like he’s doing the impression of a volcano, his fluffy permed hair mimicking the smoke and ash he’s bellowing with his mouth. “What’s up with that, huh? Come on, we all know I’m here because none of you want to be so quit giving me a hard time especially with this kind of deadline!”
Finally, Jongdae’s words seem to get through to them and the other two break it up, looking suspiciously worked up.
Yixing rolls his eyes. He hopes Junmyeon knows what he’s doing with Chanyeol and Baekhyun for the sake of the rest of their friends. All it’s going to take is them doing that in front of someone like Kyungsoo for some real mess to happen. It wasn’t that long ago that he and Sehun had patched things back up and more drama, especially when it affects Yixing’s work, is unwelcome.
The call ends soon after though so that’s something.
Yixing takes a breath and stands up, stretching out his back and hearing a series of theoretically concerning but mostly wonderfully pain relieving pops. He reminds himself of the joys of collaboration and that when he makes music on his own, he misses the others’ skills.
Plus, on better days, Baekhyun’s prodding is amusing. Yixing is sure he’s caused his own share of chaos, normally in partnership with at least one of the others.
Just not when there’s a song that’s both Wrong and seemingly out of reach the way this one is.
He’ll apologize once they’re done, play an afternoon of games with Baekhyun before ordering more food than they could possibly eat together.
Yixing pops down to the ground, stretching out and bringing his guitar along with him, legs coming into a cross, guitar on top. He strums through the song, singing under his breath.
Down here on the floor, without the input of the video call, the song doesn’t feel quite so far away. He imagines the progression leading up to the drop again, yes there, that change, that seems better, just a bit more here and then…
A loud ringing sound echoes through the room. At first he doesn’t quite process it as anything other than music until finally its familiar tune registers properly.
Right. One of the reminders to go to the bathroom that Minseok has programmed in. Shit.
His inherent resistance to drag himself away from the music wars with the knowledge of what happened the last time Yixing got a UTI during their marriage. Tonight is really not the time to push it, not when there’s tomorrow. “You’re a good boy,” he repeats out loud, rubbing at his neck. “His good boy who can go to the bathroom. We can go back to work when we’re done looking after ourselves.” Eventually the mantra works and his shoulders drop. He carefully hangs his guitar before finally complying.
It's not that the reminder was wrong, that's clear as soon as he walks into the bathroom.
The music feels farther away outside his soundproofed cave and he taps out the rhythm on his thigh, chasing the state where it'll all come together. It’s closer now, so maybe, maybe he’s finally made some progress.
He wonders how much time has passed and checks his phone.
Oh.
Tries to remember if he had anything to eat since lunch.
The answer seems to be no. Fuck.
At least this time he remembers to rub at his lip instead of biting it.
It’s not like his husband doesn’t know what he’s like and he did manage to have lunch at least which is well within the bounds of the rules.
Still he can smell food and a bite or two plus a cuddle from his husband before he goes back to work would be nice.
He walks into their eating area, trying to think of words that aren’t just music.
Minseok has turned to face him, cheeks rounded fully out and mouth stretching open in a smile as though he’s trying to show off his full mouth of teeth. Even his widest smiles can’t quite hide his lovely warm eyes, curled up into crescents he wants to rub his fingers under. He’s got one arm stretched out, fingers reaching to catch Yixing in his grip and pulling him safely into his orbit.
Oh— Yixing drapes himself over his strong, broad back.
He can be such an idiot sometimes. When he’s been around other people who don’t make him feel like this.
Minseok's changed into indoor clothes already but he stills smells a little of stress and dried sweat, the dustiness of his office clinging to him. Yixing would never tell him though. He’d only spend more time in the shower trying to scrub it off and that would be a waste. He likes being able to know so much about his husband without words or eyes. Minseok normally chooses to wear cologne, a gray bottle that lives on their dresser but Yixing is used to ignoring both it and his body wash, digging for his true scent underneath it all.
He hums out the song again, feels it reverberate into Minseok's chest and how much better it feels-sounds that way. Maybe he’s getting somewhere after all.
"Mm, that kind of day."
Yixing nods into his neck, finally feeling the pressure of the music let up a bit in his skull.
Minseok is saying something about an upcoming trip for Junmyeon that’ll see him miss two of their gang’s usual Saturday meetups. Kyungsoo will finish shooting this week and is planning to take three weeks off before his next project so they’ll finally see more of him soon.
“I booked us the flights to Changsha today, Xing-ah.”
Oh. Right.
It’s almost that time.
“I gave us two days before Qingming so that we can recover from the flight and you can have a good visit. We can see how it goes before we decide if I’ll be with you for the day of, okay? Don’t worry about me, just about what’s best for you and your grandfather. I booked us a hotel too just in case.”
Yixing nods against his neck, tears at the corners of his eyes. Visiting for Qingming for the first year since his grandmother’s passing is going to be bad. But Minseok will be there. He’s going to help. Just like he always does.
“I booked the tickets to Beijing and Shanghai too so we’ll be covered for our collective business obligations. All in the calendar for you already.”
Yixing wraps his hand around Minseok’s and squeezes three times. I love you, in their habitual gesture.
That’s about when Yixing loses track of the conversation as Minseok transitions to running through some of the math and data problems he’s been trying to solve this week. A better partner would follow along better but Yixing just listens to the melody of his husband's voice as it passes through the ups and downs of the story, overlaying the song that plays on repeat through his head.
Minseok holds up his glass of water and Yixing stretches out to sip from it, hooking his chin over his shoulder. It’s a bit warm, the way Yixing but not Minseok likes. He rolls his eyes a little bit because sure enough there's another glass with makgeolli that is noticeably emptier.
Yixing exhales and leans a bit further onto Minseok’s firm shoulder. Yixing wakes up early to join his husband in the gym before Minseok’s work hours start when Yixing could be sleeping. It’s easier for both of them to make the time for it (Yixing) and to keep up the routine (Minseok) when they do it together and it feels more worth it than it does some morning when Yixing is leaning on Minseok’s back like, feeling the the warmth and ridges of his muscles and how they rise and fall with each one of his husband’s breaths. It lets him appreciate how strong Minseok’s back is, especially in comparison to Yixing’s own back struggles. Strong enough to support Yixing’s weight like this at least some of the time.
Minseok must have remembered when the alarm would ring, maybe hoped that they’d get this little bit of time together. How could he blame him for that when it makes Yixing’s heart race and his core warm, knowing that someone like this was waiting for him, anticipating him, hoping for his company enough to think of this? He finishes sipping and rubs his cheek over Minseok’s. He himself knows that his husband will switch to soju soon enough, once he's finished eating and cleaned up and put whatever he's going to watch up on the TV. Who would have thought that he, Zhang Yixing, would find someone like this and manage to marry him, to keep him for six years between dating and marriage? The exchange trip he took was just supposed to help with his music, challenge him and push him to new heights and instead– He clutches around his husband’s solid body tighter.
Minseok’s predictability is a soothing beat to live by. He doesn't have music that buzzes out of his skin and when his anxiety does spill out it’s at a different frequency, easy enough to separate out from the demons in Yixing’s own head. It’s even become an old friend, like it was one of their many cats.
His husband is also a sucker because in spite of Minseok’s clear feelings about crumbs and splatters, little bits of food keep working their way into Yixing’s mouth, replied to with hums and rubs as bite by bite is passed to him by chopsticks.
Like the bathroom, this is something he's needed for a while. There are alarms for this too but left to his own devices he lives off of bars and nutrient drinks he keeps in the studio. He hasn't had any kind of ‘real food’ since Minseok brought him a tray and a kiss the night before.
After several mouthfuls Yixing starts feeling a different kind of buzz, rubbing his pelvis against the missing section at the chair’s back, right against his husband’s lower back, chasing after the chopsticks with tongue and lips.
It wouldn’t be so bad to come like this, reset his brain before going to work on the song again…
A bell for their door lock rings out through the apartment and Yixing groans. He’d forgotten. Minseok’s chuckles are no better as he untangles them.
Minseok drags his fingers up Yixing’s spine and trails them dangerously up Yixing’s neck making his gasp out and whine, even more turned on than before. “Seems someone was being awfully presumptuous,” Minseok says. “But make it through this and you know there’s a treat waiting for you.”
Yixing tries to put said treat out of his mind as he gulps down the rest of his water.