A/N: This is inspired by that one fancam where Taehyung can't finish his lines. It's what I wish actually happened, because this sunshine child shouldn't have to be embarrassed of how he speaks and I wish fans wouldn't react the way they do to it. 

Chapter IV: Vicious

Taehyung doesn't talk like anyone else Yoongi knows.

Left to his own devices, he'll yap Yoongi's ears off about something or other, Daegu accent coming back in full force yet slightly different from what it should be, the sound of standard Seoul dialect seeping in the strangest places. He doesn't even have to participate in the conversation much, a silent nod and a couple of affirmative noises enough to fuel their mostly one-sided dialogue. 

Taehyung delivering speeches in public is a train wreck waiting to happen. He knows it, all of Bangtan knows it, the fans know it. Those cherry red lips pause and stutter and say everything backwards. The frustration in his eyes is so palpable Yoongi can taste it on his tongue, and in the years they've spent together he's learnt to decipher the language that is Taehyung's alone. It's not just in the familiar slur of words that remind him of home, either. Somewhere along the way, he's learnt to read Taehyung like an open book. They dub him the translator for group interviews, where Taehyung is likely to insert his foot in his own mouth, and though the additional responsibility should bother him, he finds it doesn't.

The fans aren't nearly as lucky, and their ignorance feeds the flames of jeers at his group member's eccentricities. Their laughter, meant to be kind and sympathetic, comes off as hurtful and mocking. They don't understand that even idols have vulnerabilities, too, and Yoongi can forgive them for that the sound of those loud, obnoxious giggles dye his vision blood red but they're fans and he has no choice but to forgive them.

The others are a different story.

Taehyung is nervous, tired and yet pumped with adrenaline to perform Hwa Yang Yon Hwa Part 2 on stage, tripping over his own tongue in his haste to get the words out before he completely forgets them. Jin and the younger ones should have known better. Words form on his lips but he doesn't lash out where the world can see them.

Taehyung is his priority here.

Yoongi has to coax him back to his position more than once to properly finish his lines, shaking and near tears. He wishes he hadn't helped come up with such difficult-sounding titles like Butterfly and Prologue, English words with too many 'l' and 'r' sounds that most Koreans wouldn't be able to enunciate clearly. He wraps an arm around the younger man's trembling shoulders and wishes he could protect him from the viciousness of human nature, finding pleasure in exposing the faults of others.

He plays it off like it's nothing special, this happens all the time and what's another day of Suga swooping in to save tongue-tied V, but fury simmers in his stomach, quietly burning him from the inside even as they exit the stage and clamber into the van to return to the company dorm.

"What the was that," he snarls once their manager's out of earshot, "you think you can just turn Taehyung's stuttering into another inside joke with the fans?" Jin's face remains impassive, but the rest of the members gape openly at him. Taehyung's lips are parted in surprise, his eyes wide and startled. Clearly the idea that Yoongi would call out the others on their hasn't crossed his mind.

It's Namjoon who speaks first. Predictable. He only gets as far as "Ah, hyung, you know we didn't really mean it like that--" before Yoongi tells him to shove his excuses up his . Namjoon's eyebrows rise at the statement, but he defers to seniority and has the decency to look ashamed of himself for condoning it.

There's silence after, wherein he hopes the rest of them are reflecting on their actions. Jin goes up to Taehyung and clasps both hands in his own. "We're sorry, Taehyung," his face is guilt-stricken and it almost makes him feel bad since Jin always feels responsible for everyone as the oldest, "we should have followed Yoongi's example and been more encouraging instead of teasing you about it."

"It was a move," Jungkook admits, "and I'm sorry we did it, hyung." He shuffles behind Taehyung and wraps his arms around him. Namjoon clears his throat and apologizes, both for trying to downplay what they did and for not taking his feelings into consideration sooner. Someone (Hoseok?) yells "Group hug!" and Yoongi is trapped between six other sweaty bodies against his will.

Yoongi's just gotten out of the shower when Jin meets him in the hallway. The somber mood from earlier has faded away and he's all smiles again, the way their self-designated band mom is supposed to be.

"Thank you," he says softly, words almost lost in the cacophony of noise coming from the other bedroom. Hoseok and the others, most likely. "Taehyung needed that." A pause. "We needed that, too." It's too easy to forget that underneath all the toothy smiles and never-ending energy is an insecure individual who's holding his breath waiting for some assurance that he's worthy to be part of BTS.

Yoongi snorts. "I didn't really do much."

He shouldn't be thanked for getting mad on behalf of someone else. In the end, it's for his own self-satisfaction, isn't it? He can't directly yell at all those fans who thought it was acceptable to laugh at Taehyung stumbling over his prepared speech, so he takes it out on the rest of them. 

He chokes a curse word back when he enters his shared bedroom with Jin. There's a body lying on his bed, slanted legs forming an alluring silhouette as he steps closer to confirm if Taehyung has, indeed, fallen asleep. He traces the contours of tanned skin with his eyes and thinks what it would be like tracing them with his fingers, and then with his mouth.

"Taehyung," he shakes the younger man's shoulder, "Get back to your own bed and let me sleep." Whose bright idea was it for the kid to hog his sleeping space and drool on his pillow? Those doe eyes sleepily slide open and curve into smiling crescents. Yoongi debates throwing him out of the bed altogether, but decides it's not worth the trouble. It's been a long day, too, and he doesn't have the energy to argue.

In his somnolent state, Taehyung acquiesces to Yoongi's orders ("Scoot over so we can share the blanket, okay, good. Kid, stop rubbing your against hyung, stay still and let's go to sleep.") and the younger man falls back asleep, Yoongi's arm firmly holding him in place. He can feel Jin staring holes into the back of his head, but he resolutely ignores it. The whole idiotic scheme of Taehyung in his bed was probably Jin's, anyway.

God knows Yoongi can't protect this child, this helpless, lovable child from netizens' scathing remarks and the raucous laughter of those who dare call themselves BTS fans, but here in his arms, at least, he'll keep him safe from bad dreams.

Yoongi can at least do that much.