Work Text:
What cameras know
Jiyong is there within arm’s reach, asleep, awake—who cares at this point—and Seunghyun wants him bad. It gets worse every time Jiyong goes off on his own to do solo work, or has a girlfriend for a few weeks, or ignores him because they're getting too close again and the company doesn't approve.
They never get close like how Seunghyun wants them to though.
So when Seunghyun finds out they can be together, on set, openly flirting, he takes it as a sign that there must be a God out there somewhere listening to his prayers. And before he knows it, Jiyong is sitting next to him in a fold-out chair, legs crossed in jeans that stick to his every curve (and bulge), complaining about how he always has to play a girl just because he likes to wear eye liner.
It sincerely frightens him the way they just snap back into this comfort zone, how easily it is for them to play the role of a couple on and off screen. Jiyong doesn't even move away when Seunghyun's fingers linger a bit too long on his knee or elbow. It's a sign of possession, he knows, but he can't help it in spite of knowing that.
Seunghyun rubs at the bridge of his nose; his body is aching to start filming so he can have some kind of distraction, some kind of reason to avoid falling all over Jiyong like he's beginning to.
Jiyong is either oblivious or really doesn't care.
If Seunghyun pulls away, Jiyong leans in closer. If Seunghyun looks somewhere else to not see the stretch of fabric moving with each muscle and fit of laughter with his peripheral vision, Jiyong pokes his cheek and mumbles something about being boring. Jiyong is a lot of things, but boring is not one them.
The worst time for Seunghyun, his biggest challenge, is when they need to practice scenes together.
For some reason, the staff didn't print out enough copies of the script—probably one of them wanting to save paper—and Jiyong ended up volunteering to share his with Seunghyun, obviously, because they have so many lines together.
At first, his mind was screaming with glee, not only because of all the time he'd be spending next to Jiyong, but because of how quickly the leader decided to do so. It was almost like it should be clear that he would be the one to share.
As the day progresses, Seunghyun becomes a bit too aware of Jiyong's press of skin to his. His neck is slanted to see the pages better—having given the script to Seunghyun to hold as a compromise—and it's tempting, so very tempting to just kiss it, lick it, bite it. His line of lashes dark against his cream-coloured cheeks, his brow creased in concentration, his hand somehow finding its way underneath Seunghyun's to hold his elbow in place, it all becomes too much to handle.
He hands the script back to Jiyong, saying a quick bathroom break, to not appear too conspicuous.
Seunghyun locks the door, and looks down at his pants when he is in the safety of the toilet, wondering when he became so hard, so easily manipulated by the natural seduction that is Jiyong being friendly.
He'll be damned if he has to film with a boner for ten more hours, so he does what any other man would: he deals with the problem, manually. Swearing under his breath, it doesn't take more than the realization that the smell of Jiyong's cologne is stuck to him and a few rough strokes, for him to come with the leader's name on his mind and lips.
He flushes the tissue with the evidence on it down the toilet, scrubbing his hands free from the sticky fluid, with altogether too much soap and water for one person to possibly need. But if there's anything he doesn't want happening it's Jiyong saying 'what's that smell?', and Seunghyun turning a bright shade of red with all the cast and crew watching.
Coming out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, Jiyong is sitting in that way that shows he's uncomfortable; his knees stuck together, his back impossibly straight, his eyes glassy and searching for some kind of relief. If Seunghyun didn't know better, he'd think that's exactly how Jiyong looked when he is close to climax.
He immediately regrets thinking that because he's getting hard again. Damn his youthful body that pumps blood everywhere so efficiently.
Jiyong spots Seunghyun--hiding his bulge no less—and waves him over slowly. "Hey," he mumbles in the way means he's going to complain about something. "Did you read this yet?"
Logically, since there is one script for both of them, and he was in the bathroom, the answer is no. But Seunghyun figures it's a weirdly-phrased rhetorical question , and throws the annoying thought away.
Jiyong points to a line in the middle of the script. "Here," he sighs, looking away. "Read it."
So he does. And he feels like he's being ripped in two again, using the script to hide his ever-growing erection. "A fake kiss?" Seunghyun's mind and body is screaming with joy; he gets to be so close, again, that he can feel Jiyong's warm breath on his lips, and pretend it's a real kiss.
The leader doesn't seem happy about it, though. He seems slightly irked, if he’s to be honest. "I know right? Again!" But there's a hint of some emotion Seunghyun's never heard before in Jiyong's voice, and it shatters his fantasy.
Maybe he was being selfish and those scenes were really hard for Jiyong. Maybe he didn't really pay enough attention in the past to see the amount of discomfort and unhappiness it created in the younger man. Maybe Jiyong really didn't think pleasing the fans was a good enough excuse to subject himself to such cruelty. Maybe Seunghyun should start living in the real world instead of fantasy land.
"Earth to Seunghyun," Jiyong chuckles, fingers wrapped around Seunghyun's arm.
Hello warmth, is what his body chimes in with unhelpfully, before his mind takes the reigns back. "Sorry. You were saying?" If he pulls his arm away, Jiyong doesn't let him get very far.
"I said," his words come out in a sing-song manner. "It's not a big deal. It's only a few seconds in a lifetime. All for the fans."
"I agree," he forces his mouth to say. But he really doesn't. When it's put that way, it hurts even more to think that he won't get to kiss Jiyong for real, ever.
Jiyong hands Seunghyun the script. "I gotta go film with Seung Ri," he jumps from his seat and turns slowly. "See you after, big guy."
If that doesn't make you feel all tingly in your underpants, nothing will.
Seunghyun waves; that being his only viable response as to not reveal that he's turned on again. How many times is his body going to put him through this until it finally listens to what his mind is saying?
There's a kiss he has to do with Seung Ri, but it's mostly a joke kiss, so his body doesn't respond to it—thank god. It's like he's back in his teenager days, and everything just rouses him up so easily, forcing him into a corner where the only solution is masturbation (and lots of it).
Jiyong returns to his side, poking fun at the kiss. "I see you get to have a bit of everyone today," he sticks his tongue out playfully. "You whore." Somehow, the words are stabbing, painful.
It must be because it’s Jiyong saying them. Seunghyun feigns a smile nonetheless. "Are you ready?" He pats Jiyong on the shoulder, bad idea probably, but he feels like the younger man needs it. Or maybe he does.
"Ready as I'll ever be." He smiles, a strange glimmer in his eyes.
Jiyong escapes first, mingling in the crowd of crew members and settles into place at the table. Seunghyun just watches in awe as Jiyong turns into a not-so-delicate, but gorgeous, young lady in front of the cameras. He's beautiful in the androgynous kind of way. It’s Seunghyun’s favourite kind of beauty, to be honest.
He follows suit, making his way to the table with a coolness he hasn't possessed all day. Action! Then it's the scene, and he remembers every line, and so does Jiyong. But something off happens, something that's definitely not in the script—he knows because he looked at it scrupulously while Jiyong was filming—and Seunghyun sees that Jiyong is about to wipe away the unplanned foam, and he sees bright arrows above Jiyong's head telling him to just do it.
It all happens so fast, Jiyong barely has time to close his eyes, and pretend like it was written in the script for them to actually kiss, and not just angle themselves like they did for Coffee Prince.
Then someone is yelling cut, but Seunghyun can't hear them over the ringing in his ears, and he pulls away to find that Jiyong doesn't look disgusted, but is wearing an indescribable expression instead.
There's hope yet, his body tells his mind happily. His mind tells his body to shut up because since when does indescribable equal a good thing?
Some unknown crew member announces that it’s break time, and that they can have an hour to eat and relax before they have to return. And that of course is when Seunghyun remembers that he's not supposed to be seducing Jiyong, but playing a fucking role, and he's messing it up for the both of them right now.
Seunghyun feels like an a-rank asshole.
He rushes off of set, careful to avoid anyone and everyone's eye contact, knowing that anything can be enough to make him break down and admit he's in love with Jiyong. Seunghyun walks in a straight line and finally escapes the crowd of people threatening to provoke an embarrassing confession. There's a door that leads to the staircase that he didn't know existed—only because he always uses the elevator—and he walks through it, settling in a pile of limbs on the stairs.
Head between his hands, he replays the scene over and over, looking at it from every angle in his mind, seeing every possible reaction to the improvisation of the two leads—which happens to be him and Jiyong.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Seunghyun bangs his head against the railing of the staircase, his back leaned against it, finding it surprisingly comfortably.
It smells like cigarettes, and when he lifts up his shoe, he finds the butt of one, and takes it between two fingers to look at. It's not that he does this often, but he finds that holding a cigarette, even if it isn't lit, even if it's used, he can get the same calming sensation as if he was smoking it.
Seunghyun chuckles softly, turning it in his fingers and noticing the brand. His smile fades; it's Jiyong's brand.
"Guess you found my hiding spot," a voice says softly behind him. "Hey Seunghyun."
And he knows that voice. He knows it before he looks, knows it because it rings in his ears every time he comes with Jiyong's name on his lips, knows it like he knows his own voice when he’s panting and sweating and imagining he can taste every inch of their leader. "Jiyong," his voice comes out small, insecure. "Hey."
Jiyong laughs grabbing the butt, which was still in Seunghyun's grasp for who knows what reason, and flicks it away. "That's a dirty habit," he smiles warmly. "And I don't mean the smoking."
That Jiyong, leader of Big Bang, heart throb and model with a reputation to uphold, can get over the kiss so easily makes Seunghyun wonder why exactly he's sitting down here, cursing the day he was born. It's ridiculous and childish.
"Sorry," he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "I didn't mean to—you know—mess up," he moves a hand in the air wordlessly. "Everything, I guess."
And Jiyong is laughing again, but not in a hurtful way, not how he expects him to laugh. He joins Seunghyun on the stairs, leaning his shoulder against his. "You didn't mess everything up," he says calmly, reassuringly. "I heard the staff saying it looked more realistic that way, and that they'd keep it."
That was one burden lifted from his shoulders. But then, Jiyong must have noticed something, must have realized why exactly Seunghyun strayed from the script (besides the fact that there was coffee mousse on Jiyong's top lip).
Seunghyun rubs his brow, unable to make eye contact. "Then I'm sorry," he sighs, his legs fidgeting. "For what I did to you."
"Like I said," Jiyong starts, but doesn't continue until Seunghyun physically turns and looks at him in the eyes. "You didn't mess up everything."
And it's hard to process words that are so nice, especially when a hand is cupping your face, especially when you realize your face is suddenly burning from where it's being touched, but most of all, especially when you feel the soft press of lips to yours, and there are no cameras in sight to explain it.
Seunghyun melts into the kiss, fingers tangling into Jiyong's hair, drawing him in closer, allowing his body to enjoy those lines of skin pressed against him for once in his life. Jiyong whimpers when a scrape of teeth find his bottom lip, but he doesn't pull away, and for that Seunghyun knows there's a God, not just somewhere, but nearby.
Later on, if Jiyong has difficulty watching the playback of their kiss on a live recording, it's because he remembers all the heavy petting that came along with it behind the scenes that same night. Seunghyun just beams at the screen, deeming that to be their first real kiss.
--End--