chuddler67
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“I think,” Soohyuk begins, “You should let me put your phone away, and we can do something better with this time, yeah?”
And Jiyong feels it, that familiar, slightly shameful thrill that coils in the pit of his stomach. But he has never been particularly good at making things easy for other people. There is a feline sort of stubbornness in him, or so he likes to joke, an instinct to bristle at the slightest provocation and make a nuisance of himself rather than submit without a fight.
He swallows and crosses his arms and turns his face away, a pointed display of defiance. Whatever part of him wants to give in, the rest insists that Soohyuk will have to earn it.
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“You weren’t at rehearsal today, or here,” he says. At first, neither of them say anything. Youngbae looks around the apartment, at the unwashed glass on the coffee table and the television he’s just turned off, before turning back to him. “They were looking for you.”
There is something vaguely embarrassing about this, about the idea of people having to look for him at all.
“Sorry,” he says eventually. He means it, mostly.
Or; Jiyong is lonely, Youngbae tries his best to help
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“It’s fine,” he says, before she can say sorry. “Harder is fine.” Laughter fills the room, and Jiyong laughs along.
He closes his eyes on the next take, and for four seconds of unusable footage he forgets there’s anyone watching at all, just the weight of his own head, the hum of generators outside the soundstage doors, and the slight sting after every hit on his ass.
He’s always liked things that leave a mark. Not the mark itself, at least not entirely, but the moment just before it.
He doesn’t tell anyone this. He wouldn't know how.
Or; Jiyong's got a thing for pain, Seunghyun helps out.