some mighty weird lyrics!au

*

(this was meant to be written in lieu of jae's birthday...) but idk what to write tho aaaah

and that's why this is terrible, rushed, and completely, impossibly unforgivable... ;__;
[and LATE nuuuuu]

in which wonpil has a knack for sounds and overhears his best friend say something pretty. also in which sungjin can decipher english and knows exactly what it is wonpil heard.

***

Let's say that Kim Wonpil wasn't nosy. That he was simply a journalist who, just as journalists usually happen to be, was extremely good at picking information out of things and people. And now let's say that this was the biggest lie in the history of the universe.

You see, wherever there was a piece of outlying information, the brunette was there to snatch it up and make it his own. He was trained to hone in on details -- however excruciatingly minuscule they happened to be -- and agonizingly piece them together into a network of facts, all leading in an orderly trail all the way to a fitting solution. He was a genius, to put it lightly. And for this reason alone, the brunette just so happened to be considered one of the best journalists out on the field.

Everyone wanted him on their team. Even when he would act annoying or overly aegyo-driven or childish, the brunette was accepted, was cared for until he went back to doing his job. And he did his job, alright... He went over the top and dug his nose into everyone's business (on accident: he was just like that, yeah??). Where an answer seemed impossible to excavate, Wonpil always managed to dig out a gold-mine of truths. Where the most uptight of people were stationed, he could soften their hearts with a single elastic smile. And -- most importantly -- where there was a grueling case, he would work tirelessly until he figured it out, would spend days and nights without sleeping or eating to figure out a damn outlier in the system, or (god forbid) to do another less-experienced journalist's job.

So, yeah, Kim Wonpil was nosy. It wasn't like he was that way intentionally -- he was just born naturally curious. And yeah, he was loved by everyone for this -- by both his allies and his nemeses -- even if he was sometimes too flooded in work to notice this. But either way, the genius journalist never appeared to get rejected by anybody, solely for the reason that he was such a sweet person, someone overflowing with passion for his work and with charming social skills.

The only person who seemed immune to the brunette's overflowing batches of charm was a certain Busan native named Park Sungjin. Key word: "seemed."

"Sungjin-hyung -- hear me out!!" Wonpil's legs pumped, pumped, pumped, and he was soon walking step in step with his uptight coworker, whose tie (which his fingers were uselessly fiddling with) was wrapped so tightly around his neck that it looked to be cutting off his air flow. The sharp intake of air the older man took in at the unexpected arrival of his dongsaeng did nothing to prove otherwise. "I want your advice on something -- it's very urgent!"

Sungjin stopped in the middle of the hallway and took in a gulp of air. His fingers rose to slightly unlatch the piece of constricting fabric from around his throat before his cold gaze flitted over to Wonpil's light-hearted smile. "The workspace is no place for fooling around," his simply stated.

Wonpil's blank gaze and suddenly-gaping mouth followed after the man's tie -- it was floating downwards (Sungjin had accidentally dropped it), down down, all the way until it landed in a twisted-up heap of dejection on the floor between his feet -- and then he was bending down to pick it up with jittery fingers, and his feet were doing a mad step-by-step until he somehow tripped over a stray stack of newspapers and cascaded right into the back of the person he was chasing after for the second time that day. His face flooded over with redness, eyes grew wide.

Sungjin swiftly turned. The look on his face gave away all of his frustration at the situation currently going on. It was as if lasers were bursting through Wonpil's forehead: the brunette felt his brain slowly frying and burst out without a second thought, "I'm not fooling around!! I really do need your help, hyung!" His slender fingers gently rose to present the man with his tie, and his head lowered a tad in a respectful bow. "Please!"

Now Sungjin knew how Wonpil was; the man would say one thing and then try to convince people about something on a completely different level once he got the 'okay.' His foot-in-the-door game was exceptionally strong... 

On one hand, Sungjin did want to know what his dongsaeng was so adamant to ask his help for... But on the other, he wanted nothing to do with this apparent whiz kid. Those pleading brown irises and lips set in a thin line of apprehension, though... They were what finally pushed the older man to go for the former option. "Well then -- what is it?" he gruffly spoke out, much to the apparent excitement of the brunette before him.

"I need help with these lyrics I've been putting together... You see, my best friend's birthday is coming up, and I and his now-fiance who's also my best friend (you know him — it's Brian-hyung!) always write a song for him on his birthday!" A melon-slice smile spread on Wonpil's mouth as he finally managed to slip the tie back around its owner's neck.

Sungjin had, seemingly, gone slack. His face betrayed a hint of fury -- why had he fallen for Wonpil's trap?!? (and so willingly, too!) -- and his lips twitched up and down in a desperate wish to yell out all of the angry thoughts invading his mind at the moment. Alas, he didn't want to get fired for beginning a fight in the workplace, or maybe even for being too loud, and so simply continued to listen to Wonpil's request (all while doing his best to control his rage).

"This time, it's my turn to write the lyrics! And I've written them, pretty much, and they sound so pretty with the composition Younghyunnie sent me this time around!!" The young journalist's face soured slightly when he remembered what his real reason for calling out to Sungjin had been in the first place. "But, ah... What a bother! I added in some English lyrics which I think sound really nice... But I have no idea what they mean!! And that's where you come in, hyung." Wonpil, having done a proper knot on the tie while he was speaking, tightened the fabric properly -- not too loose, not too tight -- on his hyung's neck and slyly tilted his curly-locked head. "You're the only one in our department who knows English well enough to be able to decipher it. So you absolutely must help me out!! Please, I'm begging you!"

"No way!" was the immediate answer. "I have better things to do than help some silver spoon with his rich kid bestie's birthday present!"

Before Sungjin could walk away, however, the tie around his neck tightened enough for him to suck in a forced breath. He tried to gulp and pull away -- no luck: the tie only tightened further, constricting him until he was ready to gasp for the air he was lacking. Fuck... That's hot--

Wonpil's sweet smile contrasted his malicious actions, and he seemed to stare straight through the older man's wide eyes, practically boring holes in them with the force of his irresistible charm. "Hmm... I think this is the most important thing right now, though... Hyung -- I like you, and that's why I'm asking for your help. Can't you do this one thing for you precious dongsaeng? Mm?.."

Sungjin was not given a choice, as the tie became a tool with which the younger man was able to drag him back to his own office, from which he had so badly wanted to escape for a food break just now (and look where that got him); a victorious smirk was drawn over those charming facial features, and the older man finally admitted his defeat. Sungjin felt himself grow light-headed (not only from the tie still constricting his breath; quite honestly mostly because of the premonition of having to stay, one on one, with Wonpil... in his cramped office... oh G O D...). Boy, did he regret being kind for that one second; now he had to deal with a devilishly irresistible coworker who easily told people he liked them and got away with way too much, just because he was willing to do some extra projects with that stupid genius brain of his, and also because he had totally fucking unfair social skills. Great...

Soon enough, Sungjin was stationed on his desk chair, Wonpil sitting before him atop the desk, legs crossed over and around each other like a pretzel, like the shape of his ever-smiling lips. The younger journalist pulled a paper out of his front pocket and unfolded it. "Okay, so I'll sing what I have so far to you, and you tell me if the meaning is okay. Just know that I'm not done yet. Alright??"

Sungjin's head lowered in a sultry nod.

"Great!!" Wonpil then sang out the sounds he had so carefully written out on the lined paper in his limited dialect. English characters were a bit too much of a hassle, he found, as he constantly lost track of which sound corresponded to which letter — Hangul was much, much easier for him to handle. So, with broken English, he stuttered out everything to the last inked-out space.

Sungjin's hand rose to cover his trembling mouth as his mind did a double take. After a few seconds of Wonpil's eyes tracing him in confusion, the man spoke up once more. "You sure you don't know what you're saying?"

Wonpil quirked his eyebrow upwards and gave his coworker a furtive glance. "Why... Is it something bad?"

Sungjin looked up at the confident man with apprehension and gulped. He didn't want to even think about what had just been said... Maybe he could just tell Wonpil that it was okay and get everything over with? Or maybe not... His hand was already reaching out on its own in a gesture for the paper. "Here. Pass me that paper. I'll write down what you sang."

Wonpil slowly slid the paper over to his hyung and placed a pen on top of it. "Okay... But it can't be that bad... Can it?"

Sungjin's stony expression said otherwise. The brunette nervously watched as Sungjin scribbled Korean characters onto the paper, forming decipherable words along with a few numbers. When the blonde finally slid the paper back in Wonpil's direction, the younger man felt his eyes grow wide in surprise.

18

I need you...

H-h~ Feels so good... More, More!!

18, make me yours. I'm yours... Nngh~

I'm... [and a crappy drawing of a pile with stink lines and flies above it]

"18?"

"Say it out loud, and you'll understand."

Wonpil allowed the number to roll off his tongue and immediately clapped a hasty hand over his snapped-shut lips.

"Exactly."

18, Wonpil thought to himself. Fuck...

"You must watch a lot of American porn, hyung..."

Sungjin's face turned red and he speedily stuttered out, "N-no way! I just... Brian told me about it!"

"Ah!! Actually, Brian-hyung was the one I heard saying this! I didn't know it was so dirty..."

Well... now you know, Sungjin's brain supplied. "Come to think of it... What was Younghyun up to when you wrote this down?" He wouldn't just all-out do it with Jaehyung-hyung with Wonpil in the other room... Would he?! He knew they were rich men with a big house, so it was probably possible that Wonpil walked in on them doing it... Right?.. But then, wouldn't he know what was going on?..

"Ah!!" Wonpil's mouth stretched into a funny little elastic bundle and he itched at the corner of his lips with a dexterous finger. "I overheard him and Jae talking about something called 'Olanjee iz-uh the new blacku??' Something like that... And then Hyunie started making all these weird sounds and then I heard him say these pretty things! It was really breath-ey and groan-ey and... Woah. And the whole entire time, Jae was laughing! It was so interesting, Sungjin-ah, really!!"

"Yah! It's not yaja time, ya know!" Sungjin couldn't help but feel flustered every time Wonpil did this. The younger journalist was way too impulsive when it came to talking without considering honorifics beforehand... "Want me to knuckle ya up?!"

"No, hyung."

The smile stretched over the younger's lips was too much. It was too bright, and Sungjin couldn't handle such unfiltered exposure at the moment. "Stop smiling," he murmured out, a tentative hand rising to swipe at his own jittering eyes. "Cut it out."

Wonpil failed to hide his grin; even from behind the sleeves of his suit, it seemed to seep through everything in its path on a violent chase to pull at Sungjin's heartstrings.

The older man felt his heart pluck wonderfully, and his lips lifted in a soft smile of their own. Perhaps giving in to Wonpil was not such a bad thing after all...

"But really, hyung.... Since I know what it means now, I can't just use that for Jaehyung-hyung's birthday song!! That would be so embarrassing, and Brian-hyung would surely laugh at me!! Please, please help me rewrite the lyrics!!"

Sungjin regretted everything all over again.