it turns out that the min yoongi jungkook has been commissioned by is world-renown music producer, suga, who, jungkook learns after a quick naver search is completely faceless to the general public.

'oh,' jungkook says, when he listens to the first rap—a diss in which yoongi introduces himself as suga, then proceeds to tear some nameless person to shreds in a way that is kinda really fucking dope. 'suga. i think i've heard of you before.'

'yeah,' yoongi says, lips quirking in a smirk. 'tell anyone who i am and i'll gut you.'

and that's really all they say about it. not because jungkook isn't impressed and star-struck (he's never met a celebrity in his life, this is incredible) but he not so secretly thought yoongi was incredible even before he found out the extent of his success. he'd made a living doing what he loved. what could be more impressive than that?

plus, it's still way too early in their... friendship? is that what it is? for jungkook to openly fan-boy over the elder with gushing words. he'll do that on his own when he's lying in bed and able to process the insanity of what he's doing. commission work, commission artwork that he has full control over for someone who actually is something. to say he's excited would be an understatement.

that being said, they mostly keep to themselves when jungkook goes over. yoongi comes out of his room when jungkook's dropped off, all politeness as he smiles sweetly for jungkook's mother or clasps hands with jungkook's father and assures him that he's seeing so much improvement in jungkook's receptiveness and uses a collection of other big words to impress them. he promptly leaves after they head off and reappears when they return in two hours to collect jungkook.

because of this, despite just how frequently they see each other and how much easier words are coming to him now, when they speak, jungkook isn't really that sure if he knows yoongi very well.

he knows he's passionate and disciplined and kind deep down, very deep down, and he likes music. that's about it, but jungkook is content with that knowledge. he's not creepy, despite some of his off-putting comments and he's letting jungkook use his house as a haven for nothing. what else is there to really to know about a person?

during the time he spends at the house, jungkook works on his commission for yoongi, tries out design after design whilst listening to all the tracks on repeat for inspiration. the designs vary, some are small alterations on ideas, others go off on a completely different tangent altogether.

the only thing they all have in common, is that none of them are quite right.

the first two weeks are fine, yoongi will come in, pick out the ones he likes and jungkook will be sated, until he sees that the colours don't compliment each other, or that the lines are too thick or the angle isn't quite right and the composition's off and it's just not good enough for suga's latest mixtape so he's forced to start over.

it's time consuming and jungkook expects the elder to have told him off at this point for no other reason except that min yoongi is mean. he is rude and brutally honest and tells jungkook when he's acting like a shit, or when he's wearing something stupid, teases him when he sulks too much as a result. he doesn't analyse the comments that come out of his mouth before he says them and he is not full of sweet sentimental words. he's snarky and jagged and if you rub him the wrong way you'll come away with puckered scars and two pints less blood than you had to begin with.

but when it comes to jungkook's art... that's different. there, he is nurturing. he is passionate and supportive and kind and despite them not knowing each other all that well, outside of that they do creatively, he will sooner kick jungkook's ass for self-deprecation than put him down because he didn't do something perfectly.

'you're a fucking baby,' yoongi tells him one day, when jungkook's a little closer to tears than he'd ever admit after a couple failed sketch attempts. 'you're still learning. no-one's expecting you to be a master, so why the fuck are you expecting it of yourself?'

they're not the kindest words, but they bring a flurry of butterflies in jungkook's chest and it's the encouragement he needs to persevere and finish his self-assigned quota for the day and then some. practise is everything after all.

'okay,' yoongi says to him one saturday afternoon, coming into the room to look at all that's going on. 'it's been three weeks and whilst there really isn't a time limit on this, you seem to be swimming round in circles, kid.'

jungkook resists the urge to slump against his easel. yoongi's right, he's so right, it's almost painful. his wrist is cramping and his back is fucked from standing all day and if he tries to look long distance, everything goes blurry.

the room yoongi's given him to use was immaculate to start off with. set in the second story, it's huge, with a large desk set in the centre and an open window, curtain-less that looks over the woods outlining the property. the walls had been bare, brimming with potential. now, they're a mess of pictures with very little wall space at all, layered overtop of each other, skittering onto the floor space. they're everywhere and it's as taunting as it is inspiring.

'the music's your inspiration,' yoongi says, leafing through some papers. 'i know you've been listening to it, the drawings you've done have all sorts of shit going on and it's interesting, but i don't really get it.'

'the best and worst bits,' jungkook mumbles.

'what?'

'you like, mention the good and bad,' jungkook says, speaking up a bit. 'you have songs talking yourself up and other people down and all sorts of other stuff. good and bad.' he waves his hand at the splattering of images across the ground. 'the best and the worst bits, kinda clashing or intermingling.'

'that's clever,' yoongi says.

'but boring. they're either too neat, or look like some bored student drew them in the back of his notes.'

'if you make my mixtape look like a fucking back to school special, i will end you.' jungkook scoffs, watches as yoongi narrows his eyes, crouching down to shuffle through the pile of pictures.

'you got a pair of scissors in here?'

'why?'

yoongi pulls out a couple pictures from the pile. he uses one long finger to tap the corner and meets jungkook's gaze. 'the best and worst bits. cut them out of the pictures you got, shuffle them round, try make something out from that.'

jungkook's eyes widen. 'you want me to cut up my drawings?'

'jesus,' yoongi chuckles. 'don't tell me you're scared to fucking vandalise something, are you?'

expression darkening, jungkook digs around his supplies and finds a pair of scissors and after snagging a picture from a way too amused yoongi, he begins cutting.

the finished product is nothing like what he envisaged to start with, it's nothing he's ever done before and yet jungkook's never been so proud of anything in his entire life.

he stands off to the side, watching yoongi study the finished piece, eyes squinting as if looking for some fault. jungkook watches him nervously, waiting for him to issue some critique that'll have all his pride shattering to the floor.

after two minutes of scrutinising, yoongi clears his throat to say something and jungkook's heart lurches.

'you haven't signed it,' yoongi tells him. 'you need to do that otherwise any schmuck can claim they did it. and coz it's this good, people will.'

jungkook colours and looks down at the ground. 'i don't want my parents finding out.'

'lotta jeon jungkook's out there, kid,' yoongi says. 'plus your parents don't look the type to wanna listen to hip-hop.'

'but my brother...'

'like i said, lotta jeon jungkook's,' he pushes the image back into jungkook's chest, careful not to crease it despite it being a photocopy. 'put your name down. that way, you can put it in your portfolio when you apply for art school.'

jungkook's brow creases in confusion, his pulse drumming in his ears, kicking up double-time.

'i'm applying for art school?'

yoongi's expression loses some of it's certainty. 'do you want to?'

'i...' jungkook trails off, mulling it over. 'i never really thought i could.'

'that's not answering the question. do you want to go to art school?'

it's never been an option up until now, his parents had been pushing for something practical, something that would be impressive to others around them, like a doctor or a lawyer. never mind that jungkook was godawful at science and maths, could barely look someone in the eye whilst talking to them. learning art from people who actually knew what they were talking about, as opposed to the occasional online tutorial or tracing pictures of comic books, was unthinkable, dangerous and impossible, considering his parents.

jungkook's heart gives an insistent tug. he's never wanted something so damn badly.

'you're fucking going to art school,' yoongi says and it's a promise. 'now for the last fucking time, kid, put your fucking name down.'