Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Call me right away my number is 010-XXXX-XXXX’
It had been odd, to say the least, the reach-out from a total stranger but he let his impulsiveness speak for him when he rung him up. After all, hadn’t he been the one to reach out to him first?
He picked up. ‘Hey…you sent me your number on youtube..’ he trailed off. Maybe they hadn’t thought it through before sending that and was having second thoughts.
‘Yo, yeah. I’m speaking to Dabin right?’ The uneasiness was replaced by familiarity. ‘You bet.’

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For the sake of the code of internet mutual meet-ups, they agreed to meet up at the parking lot Dabin had first shot the video; somewhere public. Neither addressed that they wouldn’t have minded somewhere private.
They tried out small talk and in no time, as they both knew would occur, they were familiar enough to exchange details for a meet-up tomorrow too.

Somehow, in each other’s company they realized their abilities; as if the presence of the other somehow heightened their ability to hear their own voices. They were mirrors reflecting their potential off of each other and merging to create something magnanimous.
They were drunk on the possibilities; absorbing and reciprocating each other's enthusiasm. Each knew they wanted the other by their side, whatever the label.

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They made a label.
More friends had joined since that day, and they all just worked, each doing their own thing with the strength of this family they had created at their back. Dabin- LIVE- was blowing up and they could not have anticipated the fruits of their labour to be this well received. Dream Perfect Regime. Who the fuck knew?

Day in day out, they worked themselves to the bone. The exhaustion was only curbed by their marvel at how much they had accomplished together. They were proud.

Ian and LIVE never doubted it.

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That night at the studio were long and grueling. LIVE had finally come out of his slump and had been recording all night.
CREAM let out a yawn and stretched out before finally throwing in the towel. REM and the others had all tapped out this particular night.
He left, but not without whispering a sincere ‘Good to have you back,’ to Dabin. Everyone else had all said some variation of it, betraying the anxiety they had all had about him burning out before they even started, but Ian hadn’t acknowledged his absence at all. The others had chalked it up to Ian being envious of LIVE’s return but he knew better; Rome had just known he would bounce back.
Rome was still going over the footage he had captured later in the day. He had a quiet hum to him, his enthusiasm and pride in his work betrayed by his focus and mutterings of ‘Fuck, this is gonna be great’
Adoration took a hold of him. He sat at the couch behind Rome, he really was tired, and laid on it still marveling at the sight before him. How long had it been since they’d started all of this? How long will they continue to do this? Together?
It was getting increasingly harder to not see a future without Rome next to him. The pang of fear that came with that thought...he stifled under his exhaustion.
LIVE let himself drift away, the sight of his best friend his lullaby.

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Ian was used to seeing Dabin sleep in the weirdest positions. It was less surprising since he had gone non-stop the whole day after he had gotten up early that morning with determined eyes. Ian had been worried the past few months and just when he was about to intervene with Dabin’s latest episode, the boy had pulled himself out. Even that was unsurprising; his depression had nothing on the overflowing talent he possessed.
What was surprising was the adoration and respect he felt for the boy to come flying full-force at the sight of Dabin before him. He was mumbling and his limbs were haphazardly spread out on the couch. ‘Fuck.’ His body felt leaden at the realization that his feelings for his best friend had only developed. He resolved to never let it come between them. Ian sat back and drank in the sight of him for a moment longer before taking them both home.

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The crowd was going crazy. It was no doubt the best performance he put up since the last, Ian noted. He alternated between watching Dabin through the screen of his phone to the man himself jumping around like a yoyo. It was moments like this, when Dabin was at his best and puffing with pride as he belted out his songs they had worked so hard on, that Ian would watch with lingering eyes. The DJ was beginning to notice Ian’s periodic swearing and heavy gazes. He forcibly shook himself one last time when the end of the last song drew nearer.

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Dabin was ready to party. The show had put him in good spirits and he could still hear the chants (DPR we gang gang DPR we gang gang). A show that good - he had to brace himself for the crash that comes after. Better the high, worse the withdrawal. He could tell Rome kept glancing at him to gauge how bad tonight is going to get.
The gang had made it ritual to gather up for a pats-on-the-back-round of drinking or partying after their shows precisely for this reason. Tonight he knew it was going to be terrible. The show was just too good and nothing had gone wrong. Even Rome had been up there at the turntable. They began their night with a round of drinking and some girls and guys came up to talk to them but LIVE was feeling increasingly worse. Even CREAM and REM were beginning to notice. Finally LIVE turned to Rome, ‘Can we go home?’ So they did.
Rome informed the rest of them they were leaving while LIVE stepped out. The chilly fresh air that hit him when he stepped out jarred LIVE out of his stupor to walk a little straighter. Rome joined him outside only to look at him with heated eyes until LIVE looked back in affirmation, then whispered ‘Come on.’ LIVE’s uneasiness had ceased to the dull ache of exhaustion and was ready to just get some sleep. But it was when he was most exhausted that he noticed things about himself.
He noticed how his entire body relaxed as his back hit the seat of Rome’s car. How the car brought him to their home. How if it had been anyone else he would’ve tried to keep some semblance of control in his demeanor. But this was Rome. Ever since that day, it’s always been Rome.

He let his head rest against the cool glass. He would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t glad it was Rome.

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He had done it. Moodswings in this order was finally released. The whole gang had been there for it as always. Their encouraging smiles and support when Ian had said he wanted to release his music, intact throughout the months, if possible were even brighter because they had done their best to produce his soulful music at its highest quality. Ian had trusted no one but DPR to help him bare his soul through music.
He felt like he had the day he met Dabin; full of possibility. He could think of nothing better than to chill in bed with KartRider to wind down after all those long nights.
He heard the front door close and footsteps come up to his room. Dabin knocked and peeped in. ‘Whaddup, superstar?’ Coming from anyone else, it might’ve sounded like a neg but with Dabin, Ian only heard unbridled pride.
He spared a look at the boy and laughed ‘Fuck off, man.’ Dabin responded by letting himself in to starfish on his bed. Letting out a long sigh, he stared at the ceiling. Ian continued playing and the hushed noises of the game filled the room. LIVE released another sigh. Ian put his phone down.

‘How’d your night go? Mia, was it?’ Ian asked, curiously. Dabin was still looking at the ceiling, ‘Yeah, she was nice,’ a pause ‘What about you? How’re you doing now?’ Ian nodded, thoughtfully, ‘Relieved. Mind is reeling with new ideas actually. Fucking hell, feels like I’m just getting started.’ They both laughed. They’d be ready for it. They’d do it together.

LIVE frowned. In the muted air of their home, it was right there. He knew they both felt it. For two expressive people, they hadn’t ever expressed this. And in that moment, slightly drunk and off-kilter, LIVE felt stupid for not doing anything. Maybe if he looked hard enough he could find words to express it.

So he looked right at the source; the other looking back. Rome seemed caught up in the same confusing clarity. So he looked closer and closer. Until he started flickering back and forth between his eyes and lips. Until he had drenched Rome’s entire face with his gaze. Until he was close enough to reach out and touch.

LIVE stopped. This was too important. This was a relationship he never wanted to change. Not that kissing Rome wasn’t something he can’t see himself doing. In fact, he was fairly certain Rome could see himself doing it too. Even if they did try anything, he was certain they’d be alright.
But this? It was too important. This made sense.

They both smiled. Ian picked up his phone and went back to playing his game. Eventually, Dabin succumbed to his long awaited rest.

Chapter Text

Docile and dynamic. These were choices. Tonight, it was docile. But there was never a choice when it came to his imagination. It was always *vivid* colour schemes, ominous audacity, reverberating thrill; his own little Laputa.

It was monstrous and demanding. He could only mold, manifest, it into something consumable when the world provided too. Ian grabbed at every smidge of inspiration and used any experience to form something; to create.

But the streetlamp was out and it was too damn dark. It was to be replaced tomorrow. The patch of light under which he dreamt a thousand scenes was snuffed out and it bothered him.

Sure, he could see. But he couldn’t form. He sucked at the nicotine, hoping the vividity within him be formed into a tumor he could work with. Not fucking cancer of course, although he knew the threat of it persisted if he continued this habit. Maybe he should go for something more hallucinogenic, he thought staring at the cig.

He felt the presence before he saw him.

Dabin knew of his episodes of passiveness. He knew more than anyone what a downer Ian could be when he was like this. He was also very aware of how Ian preferred solitude during them.

But Dabin had encroached on his down-time today and he could sense the thrum of urgency in the boy next to him.

It wasn’t anything new. Dabin had always had a liveliness to him but even he could feel it take a new tone tonight.

Ash fell to his shirt so he passed the cig in acceptance of his company. Gratefully, Dabin sucked as if his life depended on it.

‘Staying in tonight?’ After the break in his own slump, Dabin had gone out almost every night. It was either the studio or other visits to his muses but he had always gone out.

Ian's curiosity only grew with the obvious stalling.

A beat or two later than the benchmark for it to be a conversation, Dabin replied, ‘Not really. I was hoping you’d help me with something.’

Another long silence as Ian waited. The thrum he felt from Dabin managed to lengthen his patience. A grateful glance later he started again, ‘Lately I’ve been stuck with something. I don’t really know what it is but I’ve tried everything I normally do and I can’t seem to place it.’ Another surer breath later, ‘I think it’s cause you’re going through a dry-spell and I’m not. Generally we’d go through those right about the same time so yeah…’ Ian snorted,

‘What, like, fucking periods or something?’ Dabin rolled his eyes with a smile, ‘Sure, periods. But you know what I mean.’

They did work better together. What one couldn’t express, the other filled in; their suggestions to one another laid the groundwork for their individual works. But Ian’s ‘dry-spell’ stunted that process this time around.

Ian knew he should apologize but Dabin would have to wait. He knew Dabin was patient but the urgency was still humming through his best friend. ‘Yeah, I do.’ Ian couldn’t think of anything else to say so he just looked at him.

Dabin was a sight to see. Every angle on his face held something to capture. His virality seeped into every movement he made and Ian was almost grateful to be the one Dabin trusted to film him. He didn’t realize how long he had looked until he became aware that Dabin was looking right back.

He was accustomed to looking at Dabin through a lens for lengthy periods but Dabin had never really looked back. He was always moving, always creating in that quiet stillness of absolute clarity. It was fascinating. He liked it.

Their mutual respect translated into their works and it was a thing to behold. Mutual affection? A force to reckon with.

The weight of his stare was heavy, but the weight of his lips were his demolition. They moved just like they usually would, complimenting and in sync. Like period, Ian thought slightly smiling. They held each other languidly, as if time stood still for them, just as it did when they first met in the parking lot that day.

Ian could feel himself getting lighter. He decided he'd stick to plain old cigarettes. He didn't think any drug could get him as...inspired as the man before him.

Dabin pulled back and shared his smile. ‘Give me tonight. I think I’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

Dabin looked at him then, hopeful and searching. Another beat and he smiled, ‘Aight, cool.’