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I tattoos
With Jiyong every tattoo had its meaning, whether absurd or literal, quirky or serious. Jiyong would always inform Seunghyun of his plans before heading to the tattoo shop, but the explanation came later, if at all.
It didn’t matter. Seunghyun liked to guess.
And lately there happened to be loads of that: even more tattoos and he’d become a walking piece of art, a joke to which Jiyong snorted and filled up his glass again; rare nights in which they talked and their omnipresent schedule seemed somewhat far away.
Seunghyun looked at the ink on Jiyong’s fingers, so delicate, and imagined running his own fingers over them. He knew what it felt like – vaguely, briefly.
But to trace it.
With his fingertips.
His mouth.
He sipped from the burgundy wine, fourth glass that evening. The drowsiness hadn’t started to set in yet. Jiyong’s eyes, on the contrary, were slightly hazy: always sooner to go than his.
Above the collar of his shirt the outline of yet another tattoo was visible – and Seunghyun knew it by heart, though not by touch.
It must feel just like skin.
All of them must: the one on his shoulder, his underarm, his belly. Soft skin. But with added purpose, somehow.
Jiyong nodded to the bland song in the background and anything he’d say now would make his friend laugh, having already arrived in that stage of blissful forgetfulness.
“Can I choose your next tattoo for you?” he prompted without thinking, and Jiyong looked at him with a relaxed smile, answering without hesitation: “No. You’d pick something stupid.”
“Because a smiley around your navel isn’t?”
Jiyong laughed at that, predictably enough, but still had enough self-restraint to feign offence: “There’s a meaning to it. There’s a meaning to all of them, as you know.” He stretched his arms above his head, and his shirt rose up a little. Seunghyun stared.
“Next time I’ll also pick a good one, hyung,” he assured him, falling back in his chair and smiling at him without reservation – and of course Seunghyun believed him.
Even though it really meant another spot he’d wish to touch and another thing that would never happen.
II hospital
Seunghyun lies in the hospital with an injured hand. “The worst part is that I can’t drink any alcohol,” he’d said to Daesung when he came to visit, and Jiyong smiles a little ruefully at that because it's quintessentially TOP - but it doesn’t change the fact that he's in the hospital, tired and overworked.
He thinks as much when he steps into the sterile room, everything so reeking of hospital that it makes him wrinkle his nose. But Seunghyun’s there, smiling as he notices him. Jiyong walks up to his bed and hands him the ‘get-well-soon’ bear he’d bought on impulse just now in the hospital shop.
He shrugs as Seunghyun looks at him quizzically. “Isn’t this what people do?” he replies, feeling faintly embarrassed.
“It’s cute,” Seunghyun decides and Jiyong smiles. He sits down on the plastic chair next to the bed as Seunghyun places the bear on the nightstand.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Seunghyun replies and Jiyong narrows his eyes because he can detect the lie from miles away.
“Be honest,” he says (demands) and feels strangely gratified when it only takes three seconds for Seunghyun’s shoulders to slump and the smile to disappear from his face.
It’s no time for selfishness, but there’s a certain thrill in knowing that Seunghyun feels comfortable dropping all pretense around him. That it’s just them, Seunghyun and Jiyong, like it’s always been (like it always will be). Seunghyun shifts in bed.
He’s silent for a moment before saying in one go: “I’m tired of lying in bed, yet at the same time feel like I could sleep for two weeks straight. Which I won’t, because most of the time I just lie awake worrying about stuff.”
Jiyong takes his friend in, who fiddles with the bed sheets. He does look tired. Handsome (always, enviably so) but tired nonetheless.
“Sometimes I’m not sure if I can still do this. I mean, I have to, but…” Seunghyun trails off, sounding almost painfully honest.
And Jiyong wants to make it all right, suddenly. Wants to fix things. He licks his lips and hesitates just a moment before saying, “Remember when I first saw you?”
“And you were scared?” Seunghyun supplies, causing Jiyong to grin despite himself.
“Maybe a little later. When I found out you were the opposite of scary.” Seunghyun feigns looking affronted, but before he can say something Jiyong quickly goes on, “To me, you seemed like the kind of person who’d leave an impression on people. Someone they’d remember, even though they might have seen you just once. That’s… that’s a rare thing,” Jiyong concludes, intertwining his fingers and willing himself to stay calm. "And –“ he waits until Seunghyun looks at him, has his full attention, ”– I still see that when I look at you. You’re still that person."
Silence follows his words. The only sound is his heartbeat, impossibly loud all of a sudden. He wants to hide and be out of sight as awareness catches up with his mouth, feeling distinctly self-conscious, but Seunghyun looks at him and Jiyong can’t look away – his gaze heavy and almost tangible, leaving the air charged. Jiyong has trouble breathing. Then Seunghyun smiles, shyly, genuinely; and Jiyong inhales deeply.
"They’ll be serving lunch soon,” Seunghyun says as he finally looks away. His voice sounds suspiciously raw. “You wanna stay and join?”
Jiyong nods, even though Seunghyun can’t see him. “A hospital meal sounds perfect right about now,” he agrees, and when Seunghyun turns to grin at him he returns it twofold.
III movie nights
Watching a movie really was an excuse to make out, and everyone knew that.
Of course, him and Seunghyun being just friends, that didn’t really apply. Instead, ‘cuddling’ was the key word.
Because contrary to TOP's appearance and image –'don’t touch me or I’ll stare you down’ – Seunghyun liked to cuddle. Not until after a few beers and with a plausible excuse for the both of them ('we’re watching a movie’) but still.
Never one to deny himself something, Jiyong naturally was happy to play the part.
Tonight the movie of choice was a James Bond one. Seunghyun had probably gotten the hang of the spy genre from his own acting, or might expect to pick up some handy tips.
As usual the lights were dimmed. Seunghyun was seated to his left on the big leather couch, customary suit ditched for a rather more comfortable outfit. His eyes were on the screen. He looked slightly otherworldly like this, in the pale light of the television: otherworldly and handsome.
Jiyong averted his gaze, back to the screen. There was yet another explosion. Jiyong bit his lip, wondering when (if) Seunghyun was going to make his move.
He certainly wasn’t going to do it.
“Want another beer?” he prompted instead, thinking that might do the trick.
“Yeah” Seunghyun commented, and Jiyong handed him a brown bottle, along with getting one for himself.
More fight scenes followed, and more beer for the two of them. Jiyong was starting to feel slightly drowsy, though of course Seunghyun didn’t seem affected in any way.
Blasted alcohol tolerance.
Right then, though, the couch creaked slightly as Seunghyun suddenly moved closer to him. Jiyong kept his eyes fixed on the screen, but he couldn’t help smile when Seunghyun mumbled, “Move your arm a little,” all attention for the movie already gone.
As he obliged, Seunghyun put an arm around his shoulders, body warm; comfortable; strangely familiar for simultaneously being so foreign to him. Jiyong leaned into his touch, drowsy and happy.
He wasn’t drunk enough to realise that the alcohol couldn’t solely be blamed for those feelings, yet not sober enough to care.
The fighting on the screen turned into dialogue turned into making out (of course) and maybe this should be awkward, watching that kind of stuff while pressed together with your (male) best friend.
It was, a little – but of the sort you wouldn’t want to do away with anyway, like you were standing on the edge of a building and your mind said step back but your stomach twirled in anticipation.
Seunghyun’s hand trailed down his arm, then leisurely up again, and he had to focus on his breathing.
Jumping wasn’t the best idea, perhaps.
But nothing against teetering on the edge a little while longer.
IV concert
Getting sick on the day of your solo concert: most people would call that bad luck.
Jiyong certainly did, too.
Of course he’d manage, and of course he’d (almost) forget his condition once he was on stage and greeted by a choir of cheers – but still. It was irksome not to be in perfect shape.
The clock in the waiting room indicated that there were forty minutes left before he’d walk on stage. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up his muscles and ignore the buzz around him (stylist noonas chattering loudly; dancers walking in and out; the manager asking questions.)
Deep breath, focus. It had to be perfect, he had to be perfect.
There was the creeping feeling of self-doubt that he willed to go away, because this was not a good timing (was any of it good timing?) –
“Jiyong.”
His head snapped up from his reveries to unexpectedly be greeted by Seunghyun’s face.
“Hyung!” he exclaimed, unable to hide the surprise from his voice. “What are you doing down here?”
“Just wanted to wish you good luck,” Seunghyun replied, casually, yet there was a certain look in his eyes that made his chest feel all warm. “How are you?”
“Perfect,” Jiyong replied, “apart from suffering from a cold and insomnia at once.”
The corner of Seunghyun’s mouth turned up in a slightly self-deprecating way because this was familiar: running on medicine and one hour of sleep alone. It made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“You’ll pull it off,” Seunghyun merely said.
“I know,” he replied, like he always did, yet there was a strange feeling of vulnerability creeping over him, exposed by the man standing in front of him.
He wished they were alone, if only for a minute.
“You’ll be perfect, Jiyongie,” Seunghyun said again, but this time with a finality to his tone as though he’d read Jiyong’s doubts from both his face and years of personally knowing him.
He looked up and could see the conviction written on his hyung’s face; the sincerity in his eyes, that one feature he could never truly mask.
Jiyong nodded once, then twice. Somehow he didn’t quite trust his voice.
“Seems like a lifetime ago you were writing your raps in those yellow notebooks and dreaming of making it big, huh?"
Jiyong laughed suddenly, the tension broken as quickly as it had arrived. "That is a lifetime ago, hyung.”
“Yeah, well. I’m just saying, it’s a good reminder, isn’t it?”
Jiyong smiled, because he knew what Seunghyun meant; he knew what he’d wanted to say.
“Thanks,” he said with sincerity – and was sure that Seunghyun knew what he meant, too.
V hiking
His hiking outfit has been lying at the back of his closet for two years now, one of his rare impulse purchases and possible bad buys.
Still, it’s only a bad buy when there’s no intention of ever wearing it and Jiyong still has the plan to go hiking: some day, somewhere, stashed at the back of his mind with all his other on-hiatus plans.
But then there’s suddenly a gap between promotions, and in-between glasses of wine (– bottles, in Seunghyun’s case) the hiking plan is brought up. Plans becomes reality with of couple of phone calls and yes, talk about impulsive.
Maybe that’s what you become when you’re close to drunk, or close to Seunghyun, or both.
Anyway, they’re off to the mountains the very next day. Of course they prove rubbish at the actual hiking: Jiyong’s stamina isn’t exactly what it should be and Seunghyun wastes his with pointless sprints. Still, the fresh air is delightful, as is the general change in scenery.
Jiyong can feel the stress drain from him.
Once they’ve reached a high point they take a moment to admire the view in front of them, and maybe also regain a little of their breath. The world seems still like this; seems comprehensible.
There’s just the green of the forest below them, and the tingling sensation the fresh air leaves on his skin. There’s just Seunghyun’s arm around his shoulder, warm and familiar.
“It’s beautiful,” he sighs, nuzzling a bit closer.
“Hmm,” Seunghyun agrees – and Jiyong pretends not to notice the eyes he feels on him.
VI coffee (note: takes place after the Secret Garden parody)
For awhile Jiyong can’t drink coffee without picturing Seunghyun’s lips on his.
Black coffee is all right; a little sugar or milk already makes it more difficult; but cappuccino is downright problematic.
It’s not like this is his fault – it’s not like he wants to be constantly reminded of that one particular episode in their relationship.
But the human mind has the tendency to connect one thing to another and so now cappuccino and Seunghyun’s lips are inextricably linked.
If there's anyone to blame it’s Seunghyun-hyung himself, who ignored the script without any warning whatsoever beforehand.
Like: ‘I’m going to kiss you out of nowhere and it’s going to be on the mouth, not the cheek.’
Or: 'I’m going to lick the foam from your lips and you’re going to like it.’
And: 'There might be tongue.’
Not that might is an accurate word choice here, because he’s pretty sure there was tongue.
And also, the 'You’re going to like it’ bit is rather ambiguous, because though he might not have actively disliked it, that’s not to say he liked it.
Much.
For example, TOP’s lips had been chapped, it being February and his lips always being chapped that time of year. It didn’t feel unpleasant – rather nice actually – but not that nice.
Also the way Seunghyun’s hands had felt so strong, clasped around his own and then lifting his chin… that could probably also count as a reason for disliking the kiss. Well, personally he had rather enjoyed that aspect (in a non-creepy way) but, you know.
Objectively speaking Seunghyun did have nice hands.
And lips.
Mmm.
“What are you smiling about?”
Jiyong spits out his coffee (coffee? why was he drinking coffee?) as the very same Seunghyun sits down in the seat opposite him.
His face looks a little bit alarmed, but mostly amused, which is probably due to his dongsaeng spilling drinks all over the place.
“Nothing,” Jiyong coughs, “I just – coffee,” as if that explains everything. Well, it sort of does.
Seunghyun smiles.
“There’s a little something on your face.”
“Eh?”
Seunghyun indicates the spot at his right mouth corner. Jiyong lifts a finger. There’s some foam there.
“That reminds me of something,” Seunghyun says, voice laced with a particular kind of amusement.
And suddenly – it’s deja vu all over.
VII airport
Airports have become routine by now. Check-in, check-out, waiting, jet lag, waiting.
Hard to believe he’d once actually been excited about walking past customs.
Two things are capable of making a flight durable, though: music and comfy clothes. It’s a fine line to walk sometimes between stylish and over-casual, but Jiyong likes doing it. Likes putting up a hat and a pair of sunglasses and denim shorts and say: yes, this is fashionable.
(Because this is me.)
Which is why he doesn’t understand Seunghyun’s default choice of layered suits. Well, he supposes he can understand the reasons behind it, but never that those would outweigh the sheer discomfort it brings with it.
TOP’s a man of principles, that’s for sure.
GD, he’s much more of the pragmatic kind.
“At least take off the jacket,” he suggests, plucking at his hyung’s sleeve. It feels woolly, which is all the more reason for him to follow his lead.
“What, and walk around in just my shirt?” He stares down his body. “It wouldn’t match anymore. You should understand, Jiyong-ah.”
“…because I’m the fashion leader?”
“Yah, fashion leadah,” Seunghyun confirms in his default Japanese accent and Jiyong smiles at the nickname he’d been given somewhere between the mowhawk and the headband episode.
It’s a bit their thing.
“Well, then at least listen to some good music,” he says and offers him one of his earphones.
Seunghyun smiles his approval at what’s playing (Kanye West) and Jiyong does as well, especially when Seunghyun starts doing the hand motions – a little bit ridiculous and a little bit intoxicating, like everything Seunghyun does.
Waiting like this isn’t too bad.
(And Jiyong supposes that, yes, there might be a third something (or someone) that is capable of making flights durable.)
VIII valentine
‘February fourteenth’ the date on his smartphone says. Not a day with particular meaning for Seunghyun (except that it’s still cold and the summer is still too far away) – but for Jiyong, it should have.
He’s the romantic one.
He’s the one hosting surprise events with balloons and candles and the whole Hollywood movie deal.
He’s certainly not the type to sit in a studio all day with no romantic prospects and not… well, complain about it.
But he hasn’t: either of the two. A rarity, if not unique, as far as Seunghyun can recall. Because if there are romantic prospects, there’s gleeful (or boastful) comments; if there aren’t, there’s sulking.
Silence is not an option.
But Jiyong’s focus is on the computer screen – has been for hours – as various beats emit from the speakers, fingers unconsciously drumming a rhythm, whole body subtly following suit.
Seunghyun nods along to the half (quarter?) finished song, mind on the music and then on Jiyong again – focussed, sharp, tired.
Content.
When Jiyong leans back in his chair as the song comes to an end, and he loudly stretches his arms, Seunghyun finally asks.
“Are you not aware of the date?”
Jiyong quirks an eyebrow at him, as if that notion is ridiculous, and ruffles his black-and-white hair, sure sign of a studio hours overdose.
“Of course I am,” he says, then leans forward past Seunghyun to get the bottle of coke standing there.
Their hands brush.
He leans back, unscrews the cap and drinks, neck exposed down to the unbuttoned collar of his Balmain blouse (remnant of his Parisian shopping days) and suddenly – suddenly Seunghyun gets it.
“Want some too?”
Jiyong sways the bottle in front of him.
“Yeah,” Seunghyun answers, gaze on Jiyong easy smile, gaze on the happy look in his eyes – and smiles back unwittingly.
IX twitter
“Jiyongie, all you do these days is look at your phone…"
The comment came out a little more whiny than intended, but then again, all Jiyong did do these days was look at his phone.
"What’s so interesting anyway?” he went on, “is it that Twitter again?”
Jiyong scoffed a little, slouched lowly in his seat, but there still was a certain amusement in his voice as he replied, “Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about, hyung, you’ll only embarrass yourself.”
Seunghyun raised an eyebrow in indignation and held out his hand. “Well then, show me so I’ll know more about it.”
“What?”
“Show me your Twitter,” he clarified, and there was a certain look of apprehension there before Jiyong’s expression settled on one of reluctant resignation.
“You wouldn’t even know how to access it,” Jiyong sighed, and, ignoring Seunghyun’s extended hand, held the phone before his nose instead. "Here. See? My Twitter profile.“
Seunghyun squinted at the screen. "I…b..gdrgn? ‘I be gdragon’,” Seunghyun laughed and Jiyong’s cheeks heated a little.
“It’s clever,” he mumbled defensively, making to move his hand again but Seunghyun grabbed it before it could do so.
“No, wait, let me see… scroll down, what did you post just now?”
“I was just talking to some people,” Jiyong replied evasively and made another attempt to remove his hand.
Seunghyun merely tightened his grip.
“Yeah, who are all these people?” he wondered out loud, feeling a little fascinated as he scrolled down. “Oh, that’s Youngbae,” he grinned in recognition as he could feel Jiyong glare at him.
“This is creepy,” he complained.
“What, me looking at your Twitter?” Seunghyun didn’t bother to look sideways as he scrolled down some more. “Oh, who’s this?” He squinted at the screen to try to decipher the username.
“You stalking my Twitter,” Jiyong corrected him, and made another unfruitful attempt to free his phone.
Seunghyun actually had to laugh at that because really? “Jiyong, this is the first time I’ve actually seen your Twitter! I mean, it’s accessible for everyone right? So how am I being creepy.”
“Because you’re you and you’re creepy,” Jiyong replied in a reply that wasn’t a reply at all.
Seunghyun only scrolled down some more.
And then stopped.
“Hey, that’s a picture of me and –”
“–okay, hand it back now.”
There was a three-second pause. Then Jiyong sighed.
“All right, fine, I posted a picture with you in it because the fans were asking for it, and anyway, you’d be indignant if I didn’t mention you at all on Twitter, so.”
Seunghyun opened his mouth in instant protest but then closed it again because Jiyong was right.
Obviously.
He looked a bit more at the picture. Their drunkenness was obvious even on the tiny screen. His party hat didn’t seem as good now as it had seemed then.
“You need to have a better picture,” Seunghyun suddenly declared, and handed him back his smartphone.
“I – what?” Jiyong asked.
“We’re already wearing matching sweaters,” Seunghyun said, feeling a bit amused (and a little impulsive) and anyway, what else was there to do when you were waiting for a photoshoot to resume?
A tiny, happy smirk appeared on Jiyong’s face as he caught on.
“Who’s vain now, huh?” he said before scooting closer to him. "All right, on three.“
(Jiyong later informed him that it had become his most popular Twitter picture. Seunghyun had already checked.)
X girls
They’re nineteen (twenty) and the world is within their grasp. With it come the girls: gorgeous and eloquent and nothing like Seunghyun could have imagined, except as something from one of his more ambitious fantasies.
Sometimes it still feels like that.
He goes over it with Jiyong and he’ll comment, “Ah, she’s pretty,” very matter-of-factly, flipping through the magazine that was handed to them by their CEO; and Seunghyun thinks it’s crazy how he could get any of their numbers if he felt like it.
His side is hot where it’s pressed against Jiyong’s and he answers, “Yeah," thinks maybe he should ask about her. Maybe should take her out to a wine bar and see how well his new role has stuck: the one of the rapper, the one of suave T.O.P.
(Thinks maybe he could get a conversation going, and otherwise there was always wine and kissing.)
He does, and one date turns into two; turns into three; turns into ten; not always with the same girl. (Never with the same girl.)
And it’s a little weird, perhaps, that Seunghyun immediately hits ‘accept’ whenever Jiyong calls during his date – probably having forgotten in the midst of his busy schedule, probably having more important things on his mind than Seunghyun’s love life – but hey, bros before hos it echoes in his mind, and yes, that’s it, that’s exactly it.
(The little swoop his stomach does when the call connects is easy to be ignored.)
XI maknae
Somehow they end up talking about the Secret Garden kiss.
They’re in the car, waiting to go home after a late-night dinner, and Seungri says, “Ah, actually it was not that bad… a little bit strange, but… TOP-hyung’s lips are very soft, you know.”
Jiyong momentarily freezes; relaxes again.
“That’s kind of a weird thing to say,” he laughs, and ignores the bit where it’s his nerves and not the situation that makes him smile.
“Well, at least you had it easy, hyung,” Seungri says, searching his pockets for chewing gum (teeth and breath are the maknaes’ priority after a meal, garlic or not.)
Jiyong accepts the gum that’s being offered to him and says teasingly, “What, because you had it so hard? Does it make you lay awake at night?”
Seungri pops one in his mouth and makes a sound that could be a scoff or a sign of amusement. “No, but with you and Seunghyun-hyung it was just a peck… and our scene – I mean, it was very intense and there were many takes…”
“I also had to do it more than once,” Jiyong remarks, and frowns because he had not intended to say that.
“Really?” Seungri regards him curiously.
“Yeah,” he answers and wills his expression to be casual. After a couple seconds of silence he still adds despite himself: “Three times.”
“Oh. Well, at least it was still less awkward than our scene, right?” Seungri says and Jiyong wonders why his voice is so soothing before he realises that the maknae is trying to reassure him.
He feels a familiar surge of affection.
The car sets into motion and soon the window shows the usual nightly sequence of neon-lights; tall buildings; people milling about.
There’s silence for awhile. Jiyong stares at nothing in particular.
“It was not supposed to be a full kiss,” he says, suddenly, and feels his breath stutter as he wonders why he brought that up. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket; keeps his gaze fixed on the scenery outside.
“But Seunghyunnie-hyung… well, he’s an actor after all, so he must have been immersed in the scene…?”
He finally gazes to his left as the question drifts off; is met with Seungri’s unreadable expression.
“Yes, TOP-hyung is a great actor,” the maknae answers, nodding to himself. “But perhaps… even really great actors choose to ignore the script sometimes?”
Jiyong has to fight a smile for the rest of the car ride.
XII work-out
Working out isn’t Seunghyun's favourite activity, he’ll readily admit that. But it can’t be denied that he gains a certain satisfaction from it: a different kind of pride than the one he experiences after a stage-performance or witty lyric, but pride nonetheless.
(He likes how his brow and back get covered in sweat, even though at the same time it’s also kind of gross. It’s a visible reminder though, a visible token of all his effort.)
Usually he works out alone but sometimes, after he’s done, someone will drop in: Daesung (“Ya hyung, stop trying to pull off my shirt, you’re making me embarrassed,” Minzy (“Looking good there, oppa!”) or master Hwang (“You didn’t get off earlier than I’d ordered you, did you?”)
And then sometimes it’s Jiyong.
He will quirk a half-smile at him, as though seeing Seunghyun in the gym is still something that’s considered funny (or maybe there’s an inside-joke there that’s lost on him amidst the millions of jokes exchanged between them) before casually roaming his eyes across his body.
Seunghyun’s cheeks heat.
“Been productive, hyung?”
“Yes,” he answers automatically (though in this case it’s the honest truth) and then, after a pause, extends his arm: “You can feel for yourself if you don’t believe it.”
And Jiyong will smile a secretive smile because they’ve been here before, they’ve been here every time, and the inside joke isn’t lost on Seunghyun this time.
“Sure,” he agrees and reaches out to touch.
(If he’s being honest, this is his favourite part about working out.)
XIII sleep
Jiyong has slept with all the Big Bang members.
Less awkward phrasing: he has slept in the same bed as all the Big Bang members.
With Seungri there is the struggle for blankets and the now traditional complaining (“hyung, you’re suffocating me!” “–maknae, stop whining, go to sleep”) because honestly, he doesn’t hug him that hard.
With Daesung there is peacefulness except the occasional mumbled complaint about how ‘Jiyong-hyung moves too much in his sleep.’ (It really are always the maknaes.)
With Taeyang there is soundless sleep, the two of them fine-tuned to each other even when unconscious: both used to sleeping on hard floors, sore back muscles, each other’s silent company when everyone else has long gone home.
And with Seunghyun… well, with Seunghyun there are a lot of things. For starters, they don’t often sleep in the same bed. They had, sometimes, when still trainees or shortly after; but soon it had started to feel awkward (in a way maybe always had) and therefore stopped doing it without any words on the subject spilled.
Jiyong wasn’t sure what there was to say anyway, or maybe just didn’t want to touch upon the possibilities.
And anyway, Seunghyun liked his space and Jiyong always had the maknae. Still, sometimes – when they were too tired to be (ir)rational and merely wanted to pass out, and they realised it was more comfortable doing that with someone right next to you – in those moments they ended up in the same bed after all.
Then they’d move close to one another, Jiyong with his back to him and Seunghyun enclosing him fully, bodies slotting together, seeming as though they’d done this for years and years and maybe that was the part that really scared Jiyong.
No complaints followed, nor any fighting over blankets, except of the obligatory joking kind. Mostly they just slept: soundly and deep.
Then hours later there came the moment between sleeping and waking, eyes closed but senses aware – of Seunghyun’s arms around him, of their legs intertwined, the warm breath in his ear – and his chest a contradiction of chaos and odd tranquility.
Later still there was the moment when they had both awoken and briefly turned to look at each other, still warm from the recent sleep, still entangled, still not entirely in their right minds; and Jiyong’s heart beat loudly in the quiet bedroom as the thought will he do something? flitted through his mind, shortened in the same breath to do something.
And then there was the moment when Seunghyun cast his eyes downward for a second and Jiyong moved slightly and the spell was broken and the hollow disappointed feeling in his gut would soon fade away.
It always did, after all.
XIV birthday
Jiyong’s lost count of all the people he’s greeted, shaken hands with, fist-bumped, kissed.
He’s also lost count of the drinks that have vanished and then reappeared on their table, as if my magic rather than capable waitress hands. Most proficient in the vanishing act is the person sitting right next to him.
Currently Seunghyun is commenting on the birthday guests in that energetic voice of his that only comes out when near-drunk, being equally ridiculous and perspicacious, and sending Jiyong into fits of giggles that are entirely inappropriate when he has guests to greet.
Then again, it’s his birthday so everything he does could pass for appropriate.
He’s just greeted the fourth woman in a row with a kiss on the cheek when Seunghyun strikes again.
“Why do all these people get to kiss you and I don’t?” he prompts indignantly, no slur detectable despite the amount of alcohol consumed, and Jiyong just laughs because this is the booze talking (– except no, this is Seunghyun talking.)
“You’ll get your chance later, hyung,” he attempts as a joke, and then quickly turns to greet more people before his hyung catches his eye and might do something.
*
The evening carelessly proceeds in a blur of cheers, mix-drinks and general euphoria, and Jiyong feels good.
Better than good.
It’s four a.m. when most people have finally gone out and it’s just the odd guest wandering around plus he and Seunghyun on the couch: lights dim, music in the background.
Jiyong vaguely wonders why it always ends like this.
He’s on the verge of dozing off – sleep-drunk in the most literal sense – when Seunghyun’s low voice reaches his ear.
“Can I do it now?”
“Hmmm what?”
“Can I kiss you now?” Seunghyun clarifies and Jiyong would sputter if he weren’t already half passed out.
He still does, kind of.
“…….all right, fine,” he agrees (sighs) after a moment, and makes sure to sound extra sleepy because this is not his sane mind talking.
The couch creaks as Seunghyun shifts closer, and there’s a nervous swoop in his belly that’s only somewhat easy to ignore.
“Come here,” Seunghyun mumbles.
He offers no reaction except maybe turn his body minutely towards him; just enough to show his compliance, just little enough to deny it afterwards.
A pause.
Then Seunghyun’s face is right next to his, hovering very close, and Jiyong’s skin tingles, anticipates.
There’s a sensor in him that reacts to Seunghyun’s every breath (metaphorically, imaginary, scarily real) and right now it’s gone off the charts.
(Jiyong wishes his hyung would hurry up for a change and do something.)
At last he finally does lean down, and puts his mouth to his cheek: softly.
There’s a pregnant pause in which neither of them move. Then Jiyong turns his head towards him.
“What –” he starts, right as Seunghyun smiles and leans in to kiss him once more.
This time properly.
“Does this mean I had the best birthday present?” Seunghyun later mumbles against his lips, voice a low rumble that does very pleasant things to his belly.
“I think you can do better,” Jiyong replies dazedly – and is naturally proven right.