Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9883907.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Big_Bang_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Choi_Seunghyun_|_T.O.P./Lee_Seunghyun_|_Seungri
  Character:
      Choi_Seunghyun_|_T.O.P., Lee_Seunghyun_|_Seungri, Kwon_Jiyong_|_G-Dragon,
      Dong_Youngbae_|_Taeyang, Kang_Daesung, Song_Kyungil
  Additional Tags:
      topri, Angst_and_Porn, bottom!T.O.P, What_Have_I_Done, brief_gtop_and
      nyongtory_mentions, Confused_boner, Dom/sub_Undertones, or_maybe
      overtones, they_do_it_a_lot, seungri_has_had_it_with_your_shit, the
      underage_warning_is_brief_reminiscing_about_being_a_horny_teenager, so
      much_F-word
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-24 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 33440
****** Waiting to Happen ******
by phlight
Summary
     Seungri is Seunghyun's favorite distraction.
Notes
     Cliche author's note about how I did not expect this to go where it
     went. I was inspired by a (deleted, of course) video T.O.P posted on
     his Instagram and intended to write a sexy little oneshot....30K+
     words later...
     Timeline does not follow real life. I wrote most of this back in Sept
     2016, before I knew they'd be on different continents on certain
     days. Set between the group's tenth anniversary and Seunghyun's
     departure. Mostly me fantasizing about getting another T.O.P solo. ;)
     Story contains the following potentially offensive things: rough sex,
     rough language, (especially from T.O.P, because it amuses me to think
     that he has the internal dialogue of a drunken sailor, and he's shown
     that he goes full pottymouth when he loses his cool), brief mentions
     of underage sexuality.
     Thanks so much to my beta reader, corpuscallos_m. She took a look at
     the first part and not only smacked me over the head with grammar and
     style fixes, but also made some sexy suggestions.
     Written from a western perspective, I don't own them, they wouldn't
     do this IRL, etc. If anything really sucks about this fic, it's
     definitely all my fault.
***** Japan cam *****
Seunghyun took his phone from the interior pocket of his suit jacket, keeping
his movements quick, surreptitious.  Seungri was too wrapped up in his own
phone to notice the outside world anyway. Probably sexting with his nearest
available side project.

Try and hold the fucking thing steady... but he was four shots of sake in.  He
adjusted the zoom.

"Five minutes, boys,” the manager noona said, poking her head into the lounge
just long enough to duck back out.

She didn't have anything to worry about in here – the hyung and the maknae had
been ready long enough to grow bored. The real shitshow was in the room down
the hall; the others had arrived at the studio only ten minutes ago, thanks to
a delayed flight. (And an overbooked schedule – YG's fault, in Seunghyun's
opinion.  Trying to shoot an MV in Seoul the day before a Japanese television
promotion was asking for trouble.)  Normally Seunghyun would amuse himself
watching everyone run around like headless chickens, but his favorite
distraction was already in front of him.  

Seunghyun and Seungri had been lucky enough to wrap their MV segments first, so
they'd flown in together the previous evening. Seunghyun thought it had been
kind of nice, just the two of them, if you didn't count security shadowing them
down the alleys. They managed to agree on ramen for dinner, so Seungri took him
to a great hole in the wall he knew. They got a little shitfaced on Asahi while
they chatted about films and food and anything but work. Seunghyun felt
grateful all over again that it would fall to his dongsaengs to do most of the
talking tonight. He enjoyed performing their songs, but he barely tolerated all
the other shit these days.  Too much on his mind.

"Showtime," Seungri muttered under his breath, setting his phone down on the
couch and taking out a pair of sunglasses from his leather jacket.  He slid
them on, then started rummaging in his pockets again.

"Who said you could wear those?"  Seunghyun asked. That was his shtick. Go out
with his eyes covered, wait for his lines, take them off, meaningful stare,
knock them dead.  And here was this little shit trying to one-up him, as usual.

Seungri was startled despite Seunghyun's mild tone.  Then he noticed the phone
and bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile.  Seunghyun fought to keep his own
face straight.  He fucking loved doing this to him.

He deserves it.

"Stop it, hyung," came the soft protest, in that voice that really meant don't
stop. Seunghyun gladly took the bait, crossing the room in three quick strides
to join Seungri on the couch. He sat too close on purpose, shoving the camera
into Seungri's face. He knew the focus would be off, but when it came to maknae
videos, all he cared about was the reaction of his subject. Tonight Seungri
seemed primed to give Seunghyun what he wanted; he giggled and batted the phone
away before it could actually touch him. “Okay, okay.”

Seunghyun dropped the phone back into his pocket, staring into Seungri's black
lenses as he replied.

"But you're so," he dropped his voice to a lower register, putting a slight
rasp into it as he switched to heavily-accented Japanese, “Cute. Delicious.
Kiss me."

"Good, you've been practicing," Seungri said, sounding like a little priss as
he looked down at their thighs pressed together, the faux leather material of
their pants squeaking when he shifted a bit. Seunghyun felt a flare of
irritation. He wanted to see his eyes, with those pretty lashes fluttering as
he tried to cope with his hyung's attention.

"No, I haven't," Seunghyun snapped. Seungri looked up, his lips parting with
surprise. Seunghyun plucked the glasses off his face and folded them, putting
them in the same inner pocket as his phone.

"Hyung! Give them back!"

"Give them back," Seunghyun mocked. "Get them yourself."

He saw the sulk darken Seungri's eyes, saw it set in the tense muscles of his
jaw, but the maknae knew exactly what the hyung was doing. This was a game
they'd played many, many times before. Often in front of other people. 
Sometimes in front of thousands of people. Seunghyun wasn't sure how it
appeared to everyone else, but the undercurrent seemed obvious to him. He
wanted Seungri so fucking bad. Seunghyun had been working up the nerve to make
his next move for...well, years, if he was honest with himself. Then yesterday,
Seungri literally dropped an opportunity into his lap. He'd been too surprised
to seize it, his hesitation earning him another solo, restless night in a hotel
room. It was a little pathetic, really, and a lot frustrating.

Seungri reached for his chest, making a halfhearted attempt at the pocket. 
Seunghyun caught his wrist, the grip from his large hand cruel enough to twist
delicate skin against the bones. Seungri uttered a little cry and tried to pull
back. Seunghyun yanked him forward, his other hand digging under his ribcage,
producing panic-tinged laughter.

"Stop, stop!" Seungri arched his back, going limp and letting his dead weight
pull him away from the torture.  

That's it? Just going to tickle him, after what he did to me? Spineless. I need
another drink...ah, fuck it.

Seunghyun followed him, sliding his body over Seungri's as they fell together,
his hand still around Seungri's wrist.  He pulled up, slamming Seungri's arm
against the back of the couch to expose his armpit.  Seunghyun made a
threatening spider shape with his other hand and started to lower it.

"No," Seungri gasped, smacking at the spider with his free hand.

"No?" Seunghyun said as he rolled his hips into Seungri's, just once, for
emphasis.  Seungri flushed immediately, his eyelids going crazy with that blink
of his. "That doesn't feel like a no to me."

"Are you fucking out of your mind?"  Seungri managed to make eye contact, the
hazel lenses he wore making him look even more incredulous than he would
otherwise – but the quaver in his voice sounded more charged than innocent.

"I wish I was. Fucking, I mean."

"I knew it. You're drunk. Get off of me—"

"Do you still mess around with Jiyongie?"  The question popped into Seunghyun's
mind and he had to ask. Seungri looked like he'd been slapped.  Then his lips
curved into a sneer.

"Do you?"

"Answer your hyung."  Seunghyun punctuated his statement with another hip roll.
Aish. The damned pants were so loud. Seungri couldn't possibly get harder,
could he? Seunghyun would appreciate the chance to find out.

"No," Seungri said.

Seunghyun laughed right in his face, a little too loud, maybe. Why should he
care? Seunghyun hadn't touched (or been touched by) Jiyong in years, but
Seungri's resentful petulance made him want to believe it was true.

"So how long has it been?" Seunghyun asked. "Or are you pussy exclusive now?"

"Get the fuck off of me before someone comes in here!"  Seungri cried, heaving
up – crotch first, Seunghyun noted – and pushing at Seunghyun's chest with his
free arm. Seunghyun laughed again, letting go of Seungri's wrist and sitting
back to survey his work: red-faced, panting, limbs splayed, ridiculous erection
bulked up against his zipper. Art.

Seunghyun almost regretted his timing, unable to finish what he started, but
the thought of Seungri going out there with that rager between his legs was
worth it. His own, well, he was older, and he'd always been more in control of
himself.  The kid still got lost in hormonal fogs from time to time, drooling
after women like a starving dog.  

Except he's not a kid, not anymore. Isn't that why I went for it?

“I'm sorry.  I'm so rude.”  Seunghyun stood, made a show of brushing himself
off, then offered a hand to Seungri.  He actually took it, getting to his feet
in that wide-legged way that meant he was trying to adjust himself without
using hands. “I should have asked if you were dating anyone first.”

Seungri glared, opened his mouth, but then Youngbae burst in bitching, manager
in tow. Seungri dropped Seunghyun's hand like it was on fire.

“Whose idea was it to match pants?  Mine are way too long. And when I walk it
sounds like I'm smuggling dog toys next to my balls.”  He moved his legs
quickly to demonstrate.  The manager covered her tired face with her hands.

“Seungri insisted,” Seunghyun said, wide-eyed and shrugging. “He's always
bragging about his ass in this kind of material.”

“I didn't–!”

“Maybe your back looks good, but the front is too tight,” Youngbae said, his
wry smile directed at the manager to see if she was also seeing what he was
seeing.

“Shut up,” Seungri said.

“Eyyy how can you disrespect your hyung like that, too grumpy,” Youngbae
complained.

“You don't have time for this, especially without a proper rehearsal,” the
manager noona scolded, ushering them out to join Jiyong and Daesung in the
hall.

Seunghyun was the only one who didn't seem to be affected by negative vibes,
but he knew Seungri would smile through the pain for all of them, pull them out
of the funk.  Seunghyun almost felt bad about teasing him so much...almost.

They lined up to enter the stage, Jiyong and Youngbae in front, Daesung in the
middle, Seungri, and Seunghyun last. In ascending order of visual impact,
Seungri had joked when they planned the choreography.  Now Seunghyun took
advantage of his position to bump up against the maknae. He only had to do it
twice before he earned himself an irritated glance.

“I still have a semi,” Seunghyun admitted, his whisper just audible over the
backstage mayhem.

“Not my problem.”  Seungri straightened his posture, adjusted his jacket
collar.

“I think I forgot to turn off the recording.”  It wasn't exactly the shower
scene, but it was enough to get him a full-on turn around stare.

“Delete it.”

“You should come to my room tonight and do it yourself. You know, just to make
sure.” Seunghyun wasn't doing himself any favors getting rid of the semi,
stomach flipping just being this close to Seungri in a queue, imagining what
would happen behind a locked door.  He almost laughed at his own simple
eagerness, so he couldn't hold back a chuckle when he saw the refreshed state
of Seungri's pants. “You're so easy.”

“Don't,” Seungri warned.

“Think of your mom or your sister or something, jesus,”  Seunghyun said.

“Think of Jesus?” Seungri said.

“It might work if you're Daesung,” Seunghyun replied.

“Don't talk about me,” Daesung sniffed, flipping hair out of his eyes.

Seungri's eyes went wide and he seemed to pull into himself.

“Relax,” Seunghyun said, putting the briefest touch of reassurance on the small
of Seungri's back as he leaned in toward his ear. “How about at eleven?”

“Huh?” Wow, he was dense.  Either that or all the blood in his brain was headed
south. Seunghyun tapped him on the shoulder until he turned around again, his
lips tight with apprehension. Seunghyun smiled winningly as he removed the
sunglasses from his pocket, then slipped the frames over Seungri's ears and
gently up his nasal bridge until they settled into place.  He finished with a
tap for the tip of his nose. Seungri held his place, not even changing
expression.  No fun.

“At eleven. Room 1004.”

“Okay,” Seungri said, tipping his chin with the slightest nod before he faced
Daesung's back again.

Seunghyun didn't have a chance to respond before Jiyong gave the signal to
move. They all squared their shoulders, heading toward the stage to spend the
next few hours in entertainment and artifice.  Seunghyun couldn't wait to get
real.
***** Delete, destroy *****
“Where is it?”  Seungri said, shoving past him as soon as Seunghyun opened the
door.  He closed it himself, slid the chain, then faced his hyung.  Seunghyun
used his dimples and stare to his full advantage. He'd just taken a shower so
his hair was an artful tousle, his skin soft and clean. He knew what he was, if
only from the way others reacted to him.  He didn't really believe it, but
results were what mattered when you wanted to get off. Seungri tightened his
jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing with a quick swallow.

“Where's what?” Seunghyun's smile broadened.

“Your phone,” Seungri said, his voice already sounding far away.  It was sort
of funny, how meek he could be around Seunghyun. What about that big stage
personality, and the more private rumors?  

“Kiss me,”  Seunghyun repeated in Japanese, leaning in and using his height
advantage to crowd Seungri against the corner between the wall and the door.
Incredibly, Seungri rolled his eyes.

“You didn't proposition me into coming here for a kiss.”  

Seunghyun experienced a mental record scratch before he chuckled.  He was
impressed, actually.  This baby had learned to backtalk so well.   

Maybe even from me. But now he's gonna get it.

“Proposition?  You're a fucking tease, you know that?  For years with that–”
Seunghyun batted his lashes as he lifted his voice into an imitation of the
younger man's, “hyuunng.”

There was a spark in Seungri's eyes – his natural brown, now – and Seunghyun
could see the muscle twitch at the edge of his mouth.  So he kept going.

“What about your jiu jitsu? You could have thrown me off that fucking couch
today and had me in a choke before I knew which end was up and which was my
ass, but you let me pin you. And last night, in the car? That driver is
probably selling hidden camera shit on the internet as we speak.  Why did you
touch my dick?”

A slow burn started in the pit of his stomach as he recalled Seungri's palm
settling on his upper thigh, then sliding over his lap. Seunghyun had merely
stared, breathless, as Seungri kept laughing, leaning into Seunghyun's
shoulder. He didn't take his hand away until he felt Seunghyun twitch
underneath it.

“Hyung, I just had too much to drink. I lost my balance.”

“Sitting in the back of a Cadillac with your seatbelt on?” Seunghyun whispered,
close enough to smell some revolting fruity vodka on Seungri's breath.  Jiyong
invited him out after the show, Seunghyun remembered, realizing that the uneasy
feeling in his chest was pure jealousy.  “Come on. I know Jiyong is cute as
hell, but why will you give it to him and not me?”

Seungri rolled his eyes again.  Seunghyun knew he sounded pathetic – he would
never talk this way to a woman – but something about Jiyong made him weak.  Now
he had to add Seungri to the list.

“Jiyong and I–”  

Fuck that.

Seunghyun took his kiss, gripping Seungri's jaw with both hands to hold him in
place. He tasted like the alcohol too, but it was more than fine because
Seungri wasn't pulling away from him. He was kissing back, thrusting his tongue
alongside Seunghyun's like he'd done it thousands of times before.

So he imagines it as often as I do. The thought made Seunghyun groan,
inarticulate need tightening the muscles in his thighs, ass, groin. He could
barely believe he was allowing himself to do this, was rapidly losing the
ability to plan the next move in the game.  He was certain of one thing: he
wanted Seungri naked underneath him as soon as possible. He started fumbling
with Seungri's belt buckle.  The whole performance tonight had been torture,
watching him move in those pants.  Seunghyun hadn't fucked a guy in quite
awhile, and this wasn't just anyone rubbing up against him like a stripper on a
pole, this was–

“Seungri-ya,” he moaned, unabashed.Don't make me beg. Seungri had stopped
everything, encircling Seunghyun's wrists with unkind fists.

“You know the word aho?” Seungri's voice was cold, but Seunghyun had just felt
how hot he was, stiff and unmistakable against his thigh, wet and soft on his
lips. “How about baka, hentai. You definitely know those.”

Seungri let go of Seunghyun's wrists and shoved him in the chest, hard. If the
hallway had been any wider he would have fallen, but instead he just ended up
awkwardly leaning on the opposite wall, his hair flopping into his eyes.

“Give me your fucking phone, hyung.”

“Don't delete it,” Seunghyun said, a last ditch effort.  Maybe he'd royally
screwed up, read Seungri all wrong.  What if that video ended up being his last
memento of making Seungri smile?

Listen to yourself. He's got me fucked up in the head already. This was a
mistake, tell him to leave–

“Choi Seunghyun.”  Seungri's words were cold, firm, even.  Seunghyun couldn't
recall hearing him sound like that.  “Give me your phone. Then I'll fuck you.”

“What?” Seunghyun laughed, pushing his hair back. It was his turn to look
incredulous.

“First, there's no way you're keeping that stupid video. It's not just about
me. Do you even remember what you said, or were you too drunk?”

Seunghyun's mental wheels were still spinning on what Seungri had said a few
sentences before, but the accusation spurred him to recall.  The video would
show Seungri sitting on the couch, and not much more. But what Seunghyun said?
He had teased Seungri a little, about being cute, about kissing, nothing he
hadn't said to the maknae in public before.  But...wasn't there something about
fucking? And Jiyong.  Fucking Jiyong?

“I remember,” Seunghyun admitted, letting the hand in his hair drop heavily to
his side.  

“Okay, so, if filming is a kink of yours, that's great, but you don't use a
phone.  For all I know you've got your account linked to every cloud in
existence just because you don't give a fuck.”   Seungri was undoing the
buttons on his shirt while he spoke, which made it difficult to concentrate on
his lecture.  “They still make camcorders, you know?  SD cards?  You can put
whatever perverted shit you want on those, as long as you encrypt them and for
god's sake, don't lose them.  Second, you don't get to fuck me unless you
really fucking deserve it, and you definitely do not tonight.”

He shrugged out of his shirt, revealing his broad chest and shoulders, the cut
muscles on his arms, his perfect tan nipples. Seunghyun stared as he
appreciated the view like it was the first time.  He used to be such a skinny
kid. And that hair on his stomach, disappearing into his pants,fuck...

“Seunghyun. Do you need me to draw a picture for you? Are there any crayons
around here?”

“Wait,” Seunghyun mumbled, sliding away from Seungri along the wall and walking
to his bag on legs that may or may not have been his. He knelt down, searching
through spare socks and packs of cigarettes and other assorted crap for an
embarrassingly long time. He had just touched the familiar plastic of the phone
case, all the way at the bottom of the bag of course, when he sensed Seungri
behind him. His presence raised the hairs on the back of Seunghyun's neck. 
Seungri slid his fingers from nape to throat and back again. His touch made
Seunghyun shiver, made him so hard he throbbed.

“Don't get up,” Seungri said. “Turn around.”

On my knees?

The pieces began to click into place for Seunghyun. Maybe Seungri was right and
he should be playing with crayons. Seunghyun almost stood up, almost ordered
Seungri to leave like his gut had cried out earlier, but the chance to finally
know him, to explore all the carnal avenues Seunghyun strolled down in his
mind... The temptation was too powerful to set aside.  Seungri had always
intrigued Seunghyun because of their basic personality differences, of the way
Seungri had to mold and bend his natural leadership qualities to fit into his
maknae role. Seunghyun knew they would never be best friends because of this
tension, but perhaps he'd been a more blind to Seungri than he realized. Young
Seungri would practically fall over himself to be noticed by the hyungs, but as
the years passed he'd been less reactive to Seunghyun's teasing, let alone
receptive, let alone willing to touch him first. Tonight Seunghyun had felt in
control of him for the first time in a long while.  And now?

He shuffled around, feeling awkward in his long body as he confronted a denim-
covered bulge that practically hit him in the nose. Seungri's smile didn't
reach his eyes. Seunghyun offered the phone up, trying to still his trembling
fingers.

“Wow, you actually have it locked now. What's your code?”

“8563.”  A few swipes and taps later and the video was gone; Seunghyun hadn't
made any copies, and despite Seungri's lack of faith he never connected his
private folder to any cloud storage or social media apps.  

The phone was unceremoniously tossed back into his bag. Now there was just the
matter of the dick in his face.  

“Don't act like you don't know what to do.”

Do I?  Do I know what to do with you?   

Seunghyun pressed his lips together, his eyes drifting to the side until
Seungri grabbed his jaw, directing Seunghyun's attention where he wanted it.
Seungri's grip tightened as he pulled down on Seunghyun's chin.
 
Oh fuck, oh fuck.

The last frayed threads of Seunghyun's hesitation snapped as he gave in and
opened his mouth, his breaths panting out of him shallow and fast. He felt
almost sorry when Seungri let him go, but he was just as eager to show his
understanding.

Seunghyun saw now Seungri's belt had a slide type of buckle, not the pin and
hole his fingers had been searching for before. He unfastened it, then made
short work of the button and zipper, his impatience roaring back when he saw
the outline straining against red cotton briefs.  Seunghyun had never felt much
about his dick – it got the job done, people seemed satisfied – but Seungri's
filled him with dark excitement. If he acquiesced to his demands, he was
supposed to fit this in there.  The last person to do that had been much
more...delicate in build.

Fuck, it's going to hurt.

The thought made a reckless thrill turn his stomach. Seunghyun wasn't normally
one for pain, but he'd ruminate on his new perversions later. One hard yank
down on all the damned clothes made Seungri laugh at how his freed cock sprang
up and out.  His giggles died off when Seunghyun started sucking on his inner
thigh.

“You're the one who's cute,” Seungri teased the first time Seunghyun chanced
eye contact, “but not just cute.”  He switched from Japanese to Korean,
sounding almost angry.  “You're unreal.  Your eyes, lips, everything.” 
Seunghyun rumbled something like a laugh deep in his throat, running a flat
tongue across Seungri's balls while his fingers threaded through his pubic
hair.  He trimmed, Seunghyun noticed, but he was glad he didn't shave it off
completely. Seungri's sharp gasp encouraged him to slide his palms around to
grip that incredible ass, squeezing just a bit, but he didn't let his fingers
stray. He wasn't sure what Seungri would let him get away with at this point.

He finally started a long, slow lick up.  He had a vague idea that he might pay
for his meandering, but after so much waiting, wondering, and talking himself
out of it, he needed to savor the smell, taste, and feel of Seungri. His cock
was hot stone covered in silk, pulsing, jerking in response to every lazy swipe
of Seunghyun's tongue. He must be so sensitive, Seunghyun mused, but he endured
the attention in near silence. Seunghyun let the head rub against his cheek a
few times, smearing precum into the corner of his mouth. He licked it away, the
salty sweetness coating his tongue and making him greedy for more.  Sometimes
he'd taste his own when he touched himself, but this was better.  This was
Seungri, in his mouth. A delicious power play.  

Seungri started to thrust, gently at first, establishing a pathway past teeth
and over tongue that would be comfortable for Seunghyun. Seungri was almost
polite, if it's possible to be polite about fucking someone's mouth, running
his fingers through Seunghyun's thick black hair, burying them all the way down
to his scalp.  Seunghyun knew what he wanted and readjusted his position,
glancing up through his lashes as he let him thrust deeper.  There was no way
he could take him all, not like he used to do with Jiyong.  He'd gag or worse.

Jiyong... He had to know.  How could he not notice the dynamic, when he'd been
there first for both of them. Seunghyun used to tease Jiyong about Seungri,
hiding his envy behind dirty jokes. Seunghyun tried to convey the intent of his
desire, meeting Seungri's eyes with a practiced, penetrating stare. I'll make
you forget him tonight.

“Shit, hyung,” Seungri groaned, finally breaking his silence, driving away
Seunghyun's thoughts of the other man.  It was music to his ears, the sexiest
sound in the world, sending a shiver down his spine and making him impossibly
hard. “I want to come all over your perfect fucking face.”  And he thrust a
little deeper, pulling his hair at the same time. The stinging made tears well
up in Seunghyun's eyes. Only then did Seungri's genuine smile make an
appearance, showing both rows of his even white teeth.  

So maybe the rumors are true. Seungri liked to get rough.

Seunghyun was used to being on top, save the puns please.  The sex and gender
of his partner were almost irrelevant to the fact that he was in control.  And
now here was this guy, his natural and professional subordinate, and he had
Seunghyun on his knees.  Literally on his knees.  

Seunghyun had never been so turned on in his life.

I'm so fucked.

A light sweat broke out over Seunghyun's body. He was probably overdressed for
the occasion, in a pair of pajamas, socks, and a thick hotel robe. Seungri was
testing his endurance already,  yanking at his hair pretty damned hard and
thrusting at a good pace too. After a few minutes he pulled out abruptly,
smirking when Seunghyun's lips made a rude slurp noise on the vacuum.

“Time to see if your ass is as perfect as your mouth,” Seungri said.

“I haven't done that in a long time.” Seunghyun wiped his wet chin with the
back of one hand, making careful eye contact.

“So I'll go slow, like you're a sweet, innocent virgin.” His tone suggested
they both knew that was patently untrue. He shrugged, appraising Seunghyun from
head to toe.  “You're not gonna act cute about getting naked, too?”

“Cute,” Seunghyun repeated. Cute? Seungri knew how he felt about this.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” Seungri demanded. “I've seen most of what
you've got anyway and I'm not the one waving a camera around every two
minutes.  You're hot, get the fuck over it.”

Seunghyun coughed out a weak laugh, wishing that Seungri would help him
undress, wishing they could kiss again, but he just stood there with his arms
crossed and his dick relentlessly up.  Seunghyun decided to make him wait as
much as possible.  He slowly untied the belt on the robe, pulled one arm out at
a time, folded the garment and placed it on the corner of the bed. He repeated
his glacial actions with the pajama top, except he had the added satisfaction
of pausing after each button, scanning Seungri's face for signs of life.  

He might as well be a Roman sculpture. Narcissus.

Seunghyun pulled his pants down centimeter by centimeter, finding the guts to
stop at knee level and turn around, wiggling his ass a little on purpose, but
Seungri wouldn't crack for anything. He folded the pants before he faced
Seungri again, his nipples reacting to the cool air despite the pink blush
washing over on his upper chest, creeping up his neck to his face.  He fought
the urge to cross his arms and removed his boxers instead, his speed during
this last step betraying his nerves. He chanced a glance at himself. The hair
above his cock was sweaty and sticky with precum already and he was
pathetically hard, plum-colored with all the needy blood rushing around.
Seunghyun felt his body reflected his basic mental state.

“I knew yours was bigger,” Seungri said, shaking his head as he took Seunghyun
in. His eyes flicked back up to Seunghyun's, black with challenge. Seunghyun
said nothing, just wished Seungri would get on with it.  He didn't understand
at first when Seungri nodded at his feet, but then, oh. Socks.  Seunghyun took
those off, folded them, added them to the nice neat pile.  

Seungri's indifferent swipe put everything on the floor before he took
Seunghyun's arms, turning him to face the headboard. Seungri's hands slid
lower, his touch sensual and lingering, until his grip grew shockingly tight.
In the next second, Seunghyun's right wrist was behind his back and locked
against his left shoulder, while his left arm was pressed securely against his
own waist. Seunghyun froze, realizing that a struggle would bring pain.  He
guessed that wasn't the point of this gesture. Seungri proved him right,
releasing Seunghyun's arm from the lock after a few seconds, but immediately
encircling his throat with the same hand. Seunghyun clenched his free hand into
a fist, sensing the withheld energy in Seungri's fingers, powerful and almost
massaging as he pulled Seunghyun back against him. Seunghyun was glad Seungri
couldn't see the smile threatening to curve his lips; he swallowed, thrilled by
the slight constriction of his throat under Seungri's hand. Seunghyun's eyes
rolled back when Seungri aligned his erection neatly with the cleft of
Seunghyun's ass, pressing up and in, spreading him just a little. He was so
hot, so thick—

“I know you've got issues with authority,” Seungri said, using the same calm,
cool voice from before, “but fucking try me again, hyung.”  The hand around his
neck shook him with a gentle sidewise movement before it began to travel down,
passing over Seunghyun's heaving chest, the back of his thumbnail scraping
across one nipple.  Seungri continued over his abdomen, barely brushing
Seunghyun's cock.  He cupped Seunghyun's balls instead, gently rolling before
going entirely still.  Seunghyun held his breath, fearing a squeeze, but
instead Seungri pushed his cock against him with renewed insistence. “The next
time I tell you to do something, don't make me wait.”

Seungri released him and stepped back, only to shove him again. At least this
time it was onto the mattress.  Seunghyun caught himself on his hands and
looked back; the expression on Seungri's face made him dizzy.  Seunghyun
lowered his chest down and waited, the seconds ticking by like hours as he
waited to be touched.  At last, he heard the musing tsk of Seungri's tongue
against the roof of his mouth, then a readying deep breath.

“Use a condom,” Seunghyun murmured, heart thumping against the duvet from the
adrenaline hit.  

“Ah, T.O.P hyung, since when are you so desperate?” Seungri replied, all casual
amusement.

Seunghyun cringed at his stage name, wondered why Seungri used it, stopped
thinking at all when Seungri hooked one arm under his hips and lifted his ass
into the air.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Seunghyun was expecting a spank, a pinch, anything but what he got.  This was
something he'd never done with Jiyong, but they had just been horny kids,
really, just—

“Oh my god,” Seunghyun moaned at the soft, wet invasion. Just the tip of
Seungri's tongue felt huge. Seunghyun hadn't washed for this level of intimacy,
either, but he tried to push away his self-consciousness.  If he complained
Seungri might just get up and leave and Seunghyun's balls would explode and he
would die.  

Maybe he likes it this way.

Seungri's hand fondling his cock while his tongue swirled and pushed at him was
a revelation, an entirely new combination of sensations.  He worked him over
like this for at least a few minutes, until perhaps Seunghyun got a little too
into it, his hips starting to thrust of their own accord.  The tongue stopped.
Seunghyun released a shuddering breath of disappointment, or maybe relief.

“Are you gonna come?” The scorn in Seungri's voice made Seunghyun's stomach
flip again.

“No.”  Seunghyun felt like that was the right thing to say, even if it wasn't
exactly the truth.

“Do not come.”

Seunghyun's dick gave a warning lurch just at the words.

“I'm gonna come.”

“What the fuck did I just say?” Seungri's indignance did nothing to assuage
Seunghyun's excitement.

“If you keep doing that–!”  Panic made Seunghyun's voice much higher than
normal.

Seungri stopped stroking at the last second,  squeezing the hell out of the
head of Seunghyun's dick. The little shit had the audacity to laugh at the
grunt Seunghyun made as the dull throb hit him, every nerve ending between his
legs outraged at the denial. Seunghyun had to admit that Seungri's cruelty was
not without skill, but he'd barely had a chance to recover before Seungri
started playing with his ass again, this time with the pad of one thoughtful
finger.

“You don't come until I say, understand?”

Seunghyun sighed and laughed some sort of helpless agreement.  He wasn't sure
he had any reliable control over himself at this point. Case in point: he was
letting Seungri play with his asshole. Just letting him do it.

“Do you have any lube?” Seungri asked.

“Uh...side pocket of my bag, I think,” Seunghyun said.

“I hope that's where the condoms are, too,” Seungri said, taking his hands
away.  

“Yes.” Seunghyun listened to his feet pad over the carpet.

There was a rustling noise, an interval where Seunghyun was alone with his ass
in the air, feeling like an utter fool.  Then the bed jostled again and he
sighed with relief.  The lube was cool, slippery, sliding over his hole and
down the back of his balls.

“I'm putting my fingers in, okay?  Tell me if it hurts.”  That was new this
evening.  Seungri cared.
 
“Fingers. As in more than one,” Seunghyun said, uncertain if he was really
dubious or just teasing Seungri out of habit.

“You have done this before, right? I mean, you wanted to do it to me,” Seungri
said.

“Yeah.”  Seunghyun didn't know what he wanted anymore.  Besides an orgasm. That
was a definite yes.

“And you saw my dick is bigger than my finger, right?”

“Yeah.” Just a little.  Seunghyun almost laughed and managed to hold it in.

“And you know you have a tight little asshole, right?”

“Uhh–”

“We have to convince it that it's a slut that loves to be fucked, because it
is.  You are.”  Seungri was rubbing the pad of his finger around as he spoke,
experimentally pressing from time to time.  “You need to stop clenching up.”

“I'm not doing it on purpose,” Seunghyun said.  

“Relax. Find a happy place, hyung. Gallery. Bottom of a bottle.”

Seunghyun couldn't think of a witty reply, so he just did as he was told. He
found himself imagining a piece he'd been eying for a week or so, trying to
decide if he wanted it for himself or someone else. There were velvety soft
indentations of black on black, radiating in concentric circles from a lurid
scarlet core... He'd closed his eyes without realizing. The world snapped back
into focus, dusty synapses lighting up as Seungri slipped inside him. 
Seunghyun held his breath.

“Don't hold your breath.”

Seunghyun let out the breath.  

“Are you okay?” Seungri asked.

“Yes?” Seunghyun said.

“Does it hurt?”  Seungri turned his finger in a slow circle.

“No.”

“Tell me when it feels good.”  

Not if, but when.

Seunghyun watched a couple minutes flick by on the digital clock next to the
bed.

“Hyung,” Seungri said.

“Yeah.”

“I'm all the way in. My middle finger.”  He wiggled it. Seunghyun stared at the
clock.  “How's it feel?”

“I don't know. Strange,” Seunghyun said, the clipped quality of his speech
revealing his discomfort. He shut his eyes against a discomfiting, exciting
swell of embarrassment, watching the afterimages of digital numbers float
behind his lids.

“Hmm...”  The angle of Seungri's finger changed.  He stroked Seunghyun inside,
then took him in hand outside as well.  “How about now?”

Seunghyun kept his eyes closed, not committing to an answer until he felt more
settled.

“I think I'm in the right spot,” Seungri said with confidence.  Indeed, he was
pumping out some slick stuff, coating Seunghyun's entire length with self-
produced lubricant.  Seunghyun would have been impressed by how fucking much of
it there was, but he was rapidly approaching the point of no return. Until he
remembered it wasn't allowed.  His eyes popped open as he spoke, trying to
distract himself.

“It doesn't really feel like much.  My ass, I mean,” he admitted. Seungri hmmed
at him again.

“My hyung is a size queen,” Seungri decided.  “Another finger, okay? Push out.”

Seungri went out with Seunghyun's push – quick, smooth – and before Seunghyun
could close back up there was an index finger added to the middle.  Seunghyun
couldn't help but grunt again, the stretch taking him by surprise.  Seungri
leaned in against his back, putting weight and pressure behind his movements.  

“So messy,” Seungri remarked, pleased.

Seunghyun didn't know if he meant in front or in back, but finally things were
syncing up.  He moved his hips with Seungri's stroking hand, tentatively
seeking more sensation there, and gasped when the best feeling actually came
from his ass sliding on the fingers.  Seungri laughed again.

“How long do I have to finger you?  Or are you ready for more?”  He palmed
Seunghyun's ass with the fingers that weren't buried inside him, leaning down
even further to drag the warm skin of his chest through the sweat beaded
between Seunghyun's shoulder blades.

“Do what you want,” Seunghyun muttered, the pressure on his prostate making
dark stars explode behind his eyes.  Seungri's chuckle was low, throaty.  It
was the right answer.

“Mmm, hyung.  If you could only see your tight hole around my fingers.  Maybe I
should get out your phone to take a video for you.”  

“Seungri...”  Seunghyun was too close again. He bit down on his lip, trying to
conjure up a thought distracting enough to buy him some time.

Seungri sighed, dramatic and long suffering, taking his hands away with some
reluctance.  The crackle of the condom wrapper made Seunghyun's heart race.  He
wasn't afraid of the pain, but he was still standing on some sort of
precipice.  To let him do this, literally let him in–

Seungri's palm settled on his shoulder, light at first and then pressing down
as he angled his hips for the best entry.  Then he paused, his fingers stroking
a small, questioning circle.

“Hyung? It's okay?”

“Yes.”

Seungri touched him again with a heavily lubed hand, dipping a finger in, this
time pulling side-to-side.  Seunghyun fought the urge to tense up.  Seungri
took his finger out and replaced it immediately with the head of his cock.  The
pressure built and built. Seunghyun realized he was inside when it started to
burn.  His fingers gripped the sheets as his body sent urgent out-out-
outsignals; he shivered and broke out in goosebumps, involuntary spasms of his
ass making him bite at the inside of his cheek. Seungri stopped.

“This is the widest part,” Seungri said. Seunghyun felt him apply more
blessedly cool lube before the slick hand slid around his hip to grip his cock
again. Seungri's smart thumb found his frenulum and rubbed gently against the
sensitive ridge.  “It's okay?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Seunghyun said, taking a deep breath in, letting it out. Willing himself
to relax, for his body to adjust. On the next breath in, Seungri made his final
push. Seunghyun felt Seungri's pubic bone coming to rest against the sweaty
skin of his ass. Seungri held the position, taking a long, steady breath in,
then made a slow circle with his hips to settle himself.  Seunghyun pressed
back into him, tentative, just to see if it would help.

“Fuck, hyung,” Seungri hissed through his teeth, betraying his excitement for
the first time. “Can you tell I'm being so nice to you right now? I want to
pound you so fucking bad.”

Seunghyun, overwhelmed, said nothing and stopped moving.  Seungri's thumb kept
toying with his most sensitive spot, sliding up over the tip of him, then
dragging the slippery fluid back down.

“You know you can take it,” Seungri whispered, pulling out just a little. 
Seunghyun's breath hitched at the dull throbbing, the stretch beyond anything
he'd felt before.  There was also a dim spark of pleasure, though the thought
of what was happening was more arousing than anything he felt.  That, and the
noises Seungri made as he began to move, the things he said. “God, Seunghyun,
you're such a fast learner. I always knew you were hot, but I had no idea how
good you would be. You're being fucked by me right now, do you like it?”

Sweat ran into Seunghyun's eye from his temple, making it tear up like crazy. 
He moaned, rubbing his face against the bedding again.   

“Answer me, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, a pointed thrust reinforcing his demand.

“I like it,” Seunghyun said, turning his head to the side for a gasp of fresh
air.

“How does my dick feel in your ass?”

“Big.”  It wasn't a lie, and the pain wasn't letting up.  There was nothing to
be done about it, or the soreness he could look forward to tomorrow.  Except
maybe to let Seungri do this again, and again, until Seunghyun's body
remembered the shape and size of him.  Seunghyun imagined Seungri sliding into
him with no resistance, his body just taking it, wanting it. With that thought
there was a familiar tension in his balls. He held his breath, looked at the
clock. 11:27 PM. If he made it to 11:30 it'd be a miracle.

“Next time I'm doing you on your back,” Seungri said, as if he was making a
task list.  “I want to see your face.  It's your face that makes everyone want
you the second they see you, do you understand?  Everyone wants to fuck you–”

Seungri sped up, talking himself into a steady rhythm.  If he hadn't been so
out of his mind with the ache inside and the ache of holding back, Seunghyun
might have been annoyed at how he couldn't shut the hell up, but all he could
think was

Next time.  11:28.

“But you wanted me,” Seungri panted.  “Now you're getting me, right?” He dug
his nails into Seunghyun's shoulder with the next thrust, one so hard it jarred
Seunghyun's entire body.  

“Fuck!” Seunghyun clenched his teeth after the one utterance, but it was too
late. He bit down on something soft near his mouth, trying to stifle the deep
moans that wrenched out of him now with each movement of Seungri's hips.  It
was too much, he couldn't help it.

“Ahhh, you love it so much,” Seungri laughed, sounding nearly breathless. 
Maybe he'd have to stop talking.  He barely touched Seunghyun's cock now, just
brushing his fingertips against it to drive him mad. Meanwhile the hand on
Seunghyun's shoulder slid over to weigh down the back of his neck.  Seunghyun
couldn't tell if it was from sweat or if it was deliberate, but either way it
was slightly alarming. And Seungri was right – he was getting off on this more
than he could have ever dreamed.

Maybe just because it was Seungri?  

11:29.  Seungri was leaning on him so heavily, making him bear his weight,
fucking him like they'd be dead tomorrow, hitting his prostate on every stroke.
It hurt and it burned and it was so disturbingly good Seunghyun thought he
would lose his mind. His legs were shaking so much.

“I need to come,” he croaked.

“Ask,” was the reply.

Fuck. Seunghyun was too desperate to fight.

“Can I come?”

“Say. Please.” Those two thrusts were simply unfair.

“Ughhhhh, fuck—please–”

“No.”

Seunghyun pushed up at the injustice of it, as if to buck Seungri off of him.
Seungri pushed back, slid to a stop, as deep in as he could get. Then he ground
against Seunghyun in that place that made Seunghyun want to scream.

“Want me to stop?  Want to stop?” Seungri asked. He was winded, but Seunghyun
could hear the perverted smile shaping his words.

If he stops, I'll kill him.

“Fuck you, Seungri!” It was all Seunghyun could do.  He was done.

“Shut up and come,” Seungri snarled, gripping Seunghyun's cock and starting to
jerk, being too rough, pushing his head into the mattress, driving into him
hard enough to make a slapping noise Seunghyun was pretty sure the next room
could hear...and yeah, he was doing it all on purpose.  
 
Seunghyun let go with a muffled sob, his orgasm wrenching out of him with such
ferocity that he had to freeze, except for his involuntary contractions on
Seungri and in his hand. They were almost too much to bear, but Seungri held
him so tightly he couldn't move away.

“Oh my god, you feel so fucking good,” Seungri whispered, stopping his thrusts
to milk the last drops of thick fluid from Seunghyun. He smeared what was on
his hand across Seunghyun's back.

Seunghyun slumped down, unable to maintain the position Seungri had set for him
– how many minutes ago?  Not even twenty?

Seungri finally let up on his head, using both hands to tuck Seunghyun's ass
snug against his hips. He started to move again, never fully withdrawing from
Seunghyun, using short, hard strokes until he finished in relative silence,
only his erratic breaths giving him away.  

Seunghyun was limp with relief, devoid of thought. Seungri laid on top of him,
right in the mess he'd made on Seunghyun's back, not pulling out just yet.  His
hands stroked absently up and down Seunghyun's sides, almost tickling, until he
stopped moving entirely. Pain in the ass or not, Seunghyun was seconds from
passing out. The clock wavered in his vision.

“Whoa, you bit that little pillow so much, look at the teeth marks—hyung, you
drooled!”

 Seungri's voice – the familiar, cutesy one – brought Seunghyun back.

“Fuck the pillow,” he grumbled, arching his back again in a clear signal.

“I'm done for tonight, thanks.”  Seungri made his point by slipping out of
Seunghyun and rolling over next to him.  Seunghyun heard the snap of wet latex.

“Spare me your jokes that only an idiot would appreciate,” Seunghyun said.  But
god, he was too tired to keep talking, too raw to laugh. His lids fluttered.

Seungri touched his cheek with the back of his hand, just briefly, but
Seunghyun kept his eyes shut; he felt him get off the bed.

“Hyung?”

Seunghyun cracked one eye open, rising from a black depth.  How long had he
been asleep? Seungri was dressed, as nice and neat as when he'd come in, hair
combed back into place.  You'd never know. Seunghyun could smell himself, sweat
and sex oozing from every pore.

“I know what people say about me.  But I'm clean. I'm careful.  And if we're
going to do this, you're the only man. Out of respect, hyung.  I hope you agree
to the same.”

Seunghyun just looked at him, his brain struggling to keep up. Respect? Only
man? Seungri's laugh this time was uncertain, seeking approval.  This was the
Seungri from before, the one he'd thought he knew.

“It's just sex, hyung, right?”

Seunghyun managed an eyeroll. His voice scratched out of him, gravelly,
overused.

“I'm tired, Seungri.”

Seungri stiffened at the dismissal and–

Did he just fucking bow?

Seunghyun closed his eyes again, holding sleep at bay until he heard his room
door open and shut.  What was he going to do with this maknae?
***** Seoul studio *****
He needn't have wondered, because it wasn't up to him. Seungri was one obdurate
son of a bitch; if Seunghyun wanted to fuck, fine – but he was going to get
fucked. Seunghyun couldn't figure out how to flip it around, and every time he
brought it up Seungri just went blank in the face.  It pissed him off so
fucking bad. Then two minutes later he'd catch Seungri looking at him from
across the room like he wanted to eat him alive and he decided he didn't care,
he just wanted Seungri's tongue in his mouth (and in his ass) right the fuck
now.  

The other part that really messed with his head was that it was always up to
him to initiate. Seungri never asked him for anything, and would only respond
to phone calls or in person requests.  Seunghyun found himself in little crises
of confidence every other day.  Was he asking too much?  Not enough?  He wanted
it ten times more than he got it, felt like he was fucking starving.  He
started pestering Kyungil when he was too embarrassed to call Seungri, dragging
him out for late night donuts or fried chicken or burgers or whatever the fuck
gross fast food he could stuff in his face.

His frustration was very slightly alleviated by the inherent power given to him
by society.  In public he was still the hyung, enjoying absolute dominance over
the maknae.  He picked at Seungri relentlessly,  either teasing or criticizing.
Each glare or sullen glance from Seungri stoked a hot coal in his stomach,
because he knew Seungri would pay him back in full.  

He should've known Jiyong would call him out. He was the one to smooth over any
disputes in the group, always hypersensitive to their emotional states.  They
were sitting at the mixer late one evening, revising some vocal takes for an
upcoming single.  Seungri wasn't even in the building, but when his voice
filled the air Seunghyun could hardly stand it. He dealt with the flurry in his
chest by snorting it away.  

“He always fucks that note up, it's flat.”

Jiyong narrowed his eyes.  He'd personally approved that take seconds after
Seungri sang it.  It was flawless.  Seungri was Bigbang's most consistent
vocalist these days, despite his dwindling interest in singing. Jiyong had been
wracking his brain, trying to figure out how to pull Seungri back in, and he
wouldn't stand for undue criticism directed his way.

“Hyung,” he murmured, in that quiet tone that implied with all due respect, I
am about to tell you how it is. “Why are you riding his ass so hard lately?”

Seunghyun's coffee almost went down the wrong pipe.  

I'm the one who could barely fucking move yesterday!

Jiyong's eyes grew even smaller.  Better think fast.

“I'm not.” Oh yeah, that was convincing. But since it was technically the
truth, he decided to give Jiyong another grain. “I'm just gonna miss him.  I'm
trying to make some memories for all those lonely nights.”

Now it was Jiyong's turn to snort at the double entendre and Seunghyun's
dimpled smirk.

“I'll miss you all, Jiyongie oppa,” Seunghyun said, leaning in and turning on
the stare.  He knew Jiyong couldn't be manipulated by him anymore, but it
didn't mean he wouldn't like the tease.  

“Fuck off,” Jiyong said in English, gnawing on one painted nail as he turned
back to the console.

Success.  Seunghyun sat back, drowning his relief with another gulp of coffee.
The less questions Jiyong asked, the better.  He wasn't born yesterday and
Seunghyun didn't want to lie to him. What he wanted for his ever-scrutinized
leader was plausible deniability.

“We're using this take.  Daesung's next, and I know you won't have shit to say
because you wanna marry him.”

“Who doesn't.” But instead of sweet Daesung, Seunghyun's distracted mind
flashed up an impression of Seungri in a groom's hanbok. He could see every
stitch in the cloth, so vivid was the vision, and Seungri's dreamy, lovestruck
grin.  

What the fuck. No.

“Why do you keep making a face?  You wanna be here or what?” Jiyong waved an
irritated palm in front of Seunghyun's eyes.

Seunghyun grunted an apology and closed his eyes, listening to his friend sing
about a girl.
***** Il communication *****
Chapter Notes
     (Sorry for the pun but dang, how about them Beastie Boys?)
Seunghyun slumped against the wall in the shower, considered masturbating, felt
utterly bored by the idea.  And yet he was so damned horny.  He hadn't heard
from Seungri for over a week.  Youngbae of all people was the one to inform him
that their maknae was in Hong Kong again.  He hadn't put anything on social
media, hadn't responded to any group chats unless directly addressed. 
Seunghyun supposed he couldn't blame him, since he often pulled the same crap.
But why couldn't Seungri at least send a text?  The last time they'd been
together was just a quickie after a photo shoot, Seungri bending Seunghyun over
his own immaculate kitchen counter, smearing it up with their sweat and lube
and Seunghyun's makeup. Seungri had to stand on his toes to get at him, which
Seunghyun thought was so fucking cute. He'd offered to take a shower with him
after, but Seungri never wanted to stick around his place. Seunghyun wasn't
sure if he should be offended or admire his discretion, but either way, the
memory made him feel more turned on and lonely than ever.

Fuck it, he'd try him on LINE when he got out of the shower. And he'd stay out
of the kitchen.

> Busy Lee Seungri. Your hyung told me you might have a new dramatic project. I
was surprised, but I shouldn't be. I hope you are happy and healthy.

He waited while he had his first cigarette of the day. No answer. He got
dressed, drank some coffee, smoked again, called his mother.

No answer.

Replied to an email from his financial manager. Smoked. Looked at Instagram,
crafted an expressive selca series, not that Seungri hung around much there
these days. Scrolled through the flood of tortured and titillated fan
responses. Oppa, oppa, oppa... They all cried out for him within seconds of
posting,  but from the person he wanted, no answer. He really wanted to smoke
again, but his throat always started junking up after the third cigarette and
he had promised Jiyong he'd go into the studio today to cut a new solo track. 
He sort of wanted to make YG wait on it a while longer, just because, but he
hated to disappoint Jiyong. He'd sang a few lines for him already, watched his
eyes light up. He had to admit he wanted it for himself, too. There were itches
he needed to scratch before he lost all feeling.

How had his dick become so distracting? It was embarrassing, especially at his
age. He worried his lip and sighed, hating himself for succumbing to self-pity.

He wanted Seungri, but it seemed like everyone else wanted him these days, too.
There was quite a line and Seunghyun didn't know his place. He decided to send
one last message before he cut himself off.  He would just be direct. It wasn't
the group chat. No one had to see.

> I miss you.

That was sort of a euphemism for how he actually felt, but it fit the
situation.

Of course the pabo called while Seunghyun was in the car, so they couldn't
really talk.  

“T.O.P hyung,” Seungri said, his voice pretty and bright in that way that meant
he was in public with someone listening in.  

“Yeah.” Seunghyun fought to keep his voice even, but his throat felt too tight
already.

“I got your message, thank you for your support. Everything's great!”

“That's good.”

Seungri cleared his throat; Seunghyun could tell his deadpan reply had put
Seungri off-kilter. He felt a strange mix of regret and satisfaction burn in
his chest.

What do you fucking expect, ignoring me.

“Jiyong hyung told me you were recording today,” Seungri said, trying to
rally.  “I'm so excited to hear your song.”

“I guess.”

“I am!  I really am! You know Doom Dada is my favorite.”  Seungri was trying so
hard.

“I guess.”

“Aish,” Seungri laughed nervously.  Someone called his name in the background,
whether greeting or beckoning Seunghyun couldn't tell. Seungri replied sweetly
in Mandarin. Seunghyun couldn't make out a single word.

“You sound very busy.” Seunghyun knew it was a mistake to reveal himself like
this, but he was too pissed.

“I am, hyung, it's been so crazy—”

“Then I'll say goodbye, and good luck.  Youngbae can tell me when you're home.
Or maybe Jiyong.”

Since you're talking to them, but not to me.

“T.O.P hyung, before you go.” The motherfucker sounded smooth as glass now. 
Seunghyun tightened his jaw as Seungri continued. “I was wondering about your
schedule. There are some people here who want to meet you, for a film...with
me.  For when you get back, of course.”

The surprise hit Seunghyun in a tingling wave, but he pushed it down.

“Are you just saying this to impress strangers?”

“Hyung...”  

There it fucking is. Beseeching. Or manipulating.

“I have to go, Seungri.”  

He ended the call before Seungri could speak again.  It wasn't a lie; he was
almost to the YG building. Seungri wanted to call him T.O.P, right, still
needed him to be T.O.P. So he had to shake this shit off and get back into that
mode – the existential dreamer, the artist, master of his universe.

Seungri's voice filled his mind one last time, that same questioning tone of
voice.

It's just sex, hyung, right?

Seunghyun deliberately ignored his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on
the fierce pleasure of destroying the silence of the recording booth.  Choice
was beside himself.

“You're aggro as hell, bro. The guys will go nuts and the ladies will cream
themselves. No one can touch you.”

Seunghyun smiled faintly.  He didn't want to get ahead of himself, and he was
all too aware of the fickle nature of idol fans. This track might alienate a
fair few of them, just like the previous one.  But maybe he should send Seungri
a thank you message for the productivity boost.
 
He pulled up LINE when they broke for dinner, because he couldn't help but
check.  17 unread: 1 from Kwon Jiyong, 2 from Song Kyungil, and 14 from Lee
Seungri. 14? Jesus. His heartrate kicked up. He made himself read Jiyong's
first.  Said he'd heard good things from Choice, hwaiting, also that he was a
fucker for holding out on him, and Mino would die from happiness if he'd offer
him a feature, just saying hyung.  Kyungil was second, asking him out for
drinks.  That could definitely be arranged, Seunghyun needed a fucking drink or
ten.  Finally he tapped Seungri's name.

>How could I use your name in that way? It belongs to you (frown face)
>I am sorry, but it's true I am caught up in this film business right now! I
need your advice
>I couldn't say no to this trip, last second.  I'm so sick of hotels
>I am taking good care, eating vitamins, sleeping when I can  (sleep face)
>Your messages make me feel so much, I value your opinion so much
> You are the hyung with the most tender heart (tear face)
>Can you forgive and believe in me
>If I say I never forget you, even in my busiest moment
>I consider my hyung too much
>I knew you were working hard too
>I worry about you, you are quite thin
>I want you to come here, if you can
>I know the best places to eat, the best place for drinking!
>I miss you too hyung!

Seunghyun let out the breath he'd been holding, hearing Seungri's voice in his
head as he read the messages, swinging rapidly from sulk to sweet to shout. It
was like watching a performance of tragic clowns. He read them all again.

He pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes and shoved his phone in his
back pocket, fighting off a sudden urge. Tears came easily these days, for any
or no reason, but he couldn't give in to them right now. Choice would expect
Seunghyun to be on point; he was almost as exacting as Jiyong, even moreso when
he thought they had a hit.

Later, Seunghyun asked Kyungil if he wouldn't mind just coming over to his
place.  He had wine, of course.  

“You feeling okay?” his friend asked, stretching his long frame over the couch
but taking care not to put his feet on the upholstery.  He knew how Seunghyun
could get about his furniture.  

Seunghyun swished dark liquid around his mouth, hardly tasting it.  He
shrugged.  He knew if he said nothing that Kyungil would drop it.

“Can I take a picture with you?” Seunghyun asked.  Kyungil chuckled, his long
eyes sliding toward his friend.  Classic Choi diversion.

“What, to post?”

“Yeah.”

They both knew what people would say, but they seemed to say it about Seunghyun
with almost anyone. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it with Kyungil. 
He was physically perfect, almost intimidating in spite of their long
friendship...but Kyungil was straight.  Kyungil was the person he could call
and just hang out with listening to music, talking a little, drinking a lot. 
Just like he intended to do tonight.   

Kyungil sat up when Seunghyun perched next to him on the couch.  They both put
on their best editorial face, laughing as each picture got less focused and
more stupid.  Seunghyun posted several, deleting them almost as quickly.  He
kept up the first shot, the best one, then asked Kyungil to sit in the center
of the couch for one last photo.  He acquiesced, hanging his head down between
his knees.  

“Very moody,” Seunghyun said, tapping through filters on the edit screen.

“Just trying to emulate your aesthetic.”

“Fuck you.”  He posted the shot, which he actually quite liked, ostensibly to
show off the new painting over the couch.

The comments came flooding in.  He didn't read them for some time; Kyungil had
a playlist of new songs he wanted him to hear, and some old stuff he knew
Seunghyun would like.  They listened, commenting occasionally, refilling their
glasses often.  Kyungil fell asleep first, snoring softly under the painting. 
Seunghyun stared at it, knowing he was drunk off his ass but feeling all right
as long as he didn't move his head too fast.

He pulled out his phone. There were the typical comments, the hearts, the
sighs, the slightly-to-very lewd descriptions of what they wanted to do to
him.  And then there were ones that he didn't know why he bothered to to read,
unless it was a form of self-flagellation.  Or maybe he actually liked to get
angry.

> this guy AGAIN how can u cheat on ur dragon?
>Oppa, no
>Don't be with men, you are sick...

He fired off a reply of his own, knowing it'd be picked up by one of those fan
accounts that logged every move he made, too blitzed to give a fuck.

> Don't be ignorant.

Let them gossip over what he could possibly mean, it should keep them busy for
the next few years.  And fuck Yang too if he gave him shit for it. His
friendship with Jiyong would never be the same because of the shit they were
explicitly told to do – or not to do – and it was fucked up, anytime he ever
really wanted something it got fucked up–

The words on the phone swam in front of his face; he blinked back the tears
before a sudden assault from a jaw-cracking yawn.  He looked over at Kyungil's
slack face, supposing he should roll him on his side.  He got up to do it, then
had to sit down heavily next to the couch.  

Maybe I'll just sleep here.

His phone made a soft ping noise.  He had notifications off for Instagram, but
the personal stuff was still on.  It was LINE. It was Seungri.

> You posted a lot of nice pictures today. Say hi to Kyungil hyung for me.

Seunghyun's sadness left him with an almost audible pop. His smile was so wide
he felt like it might split his face and his heart raced with triumph. He
considered not answering for about one second.

I'm acting like a fucking kid. Fuck it.  

>Can I see a picture of you?  

He sent it before he could chicken out.

There was a slight delay, then LINE blipped again.  It was just a typical
selca, really, Seungri being the old pro that he was.  He was in a hotel room,
standing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing that black and white striped
polo that showed off his arms so well. Soft smile, little wave.  His jeans,
though, were tight as fuck, showing off something less soft, less little.

Seunghyun pulled his legs against his chest, rocking a bit in place, realizing
that was Seungri just now and feeling actual pain that he couldn't touch him. 
LINE pinged again and he scrabbled to pick the phone up.

> Heading out soon.  Have a nice night, hyung. Take good care.

He composed and deleted half a dozen replies before deciding to keep silent. 
His buzz was fading along with his arousal at the thought of Seungri going
out...where?  He knew where.  He'd probably see a picture of him pop up later,
posing with a glistening girl or a red-faced guy.  Seunghyun used to be into
clubbing, especially with Jiyong, but it held almost no appeal for him anymore.
Meanwhile, Seungri was turning fun and friends into business opportunities
until the two were almost indistinguishable.  Seungri could have fun anywhere
as long as there were people ready to laugh with him.  Seungri was definitely a
nicer person than him, Seunghyun concluded. He got to his feet with a groan, 
turning Kyungil and padding the floor beneath the couch with pillows just in
case. He shuffled off to his bedroom and collapsed on the mattress fully
clothed.  

Shit.  He had to get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and get to the studio. 
He could blow it off, but he knew Choice was right.  This track could be good,
really good, if he'd pull his head out of his ass long enough to do it justice.
 

He peered at the phone once more, intending to set his alarm.  There was one
more LINE notification.  He tapped it.  

This one was just Seungri's face, his jaw tilted up in that smug, sexy, “you
know you love me” expression he used in every other picture of himself.
Seunghyun realized he'd used the same exact face tonight with Kyungil. 
Seungri's final message appeared:

>I think our selca would be better.

Seunghyun's fingers moved on autopilot after that, setting his clock and making
sure he was all set for the next day.
***** Hong Kong hearts *****
Chapter Notes
     Song reference is Girl's Day “Expectation” -
     https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2013/03/girl-s-day-geolseudei-gidaehae-
     expectation
He wouldn't pretend like this was a reasonable thing to do.  To start with, the
chartered plane was exorbitantly expensive.  It wasn't private – there were
other movers and shakers on board, far more important than rapper-idol-actor-
art enthusiast Choi Seunghyun – but the last minute booking had still cost him
big.  But fuck, it'd be worth it just to skirt the usual airport security
theater. He was also choosing a personal matter over work, which was sometimes
worth it but could just as easily be misguided.  Seunghyun knew himself too
well, knew how he could get in over his head if he allowed himself to relax his
control. But fuck, he'd already done that. He'd practically ceded it at this
point.  He was afraid that he'd wake up tomorrow kicking his own ass around the
block.  He was too busy, had too much to do before his conscription. But fuck,
the song was almost finished. It wasn't like he'd forget about the song.  He
could be back in Seoul by tomorrow.

The scariest part was that he knew Seungri would see this as A Gesture. How
would Seunghyun explain it? At least Seungri had suggested a pretense with the
potential movie deal.  For the two of them. Seunghyun was sometimes in awe that
Bigbang's maknae had cultivated so much influence.

He slung the strap of his overnight bag across his shoulders as he deplaned
directly onto the tarmac,  just the one bodyguard at his side. This man
Seunghyun hired specifically for trips like this. He never asked questions and
was as big as an ox. Seunghyun felt like a robot as he walked stone-faced with
the others toward a fleet of slick, black hire cars.

The drive downtown was uneventful, too quiet.  It'd been awhile since Seunghyun
had traveled alone with such a light security detail. Usually he was in a car
with at least one other member, or more often in a van with all of them, plus a
host of managers and coordinators and stylists, people he'd known for years. 
Loud, busy, maybe not always happy but at least familiar.

The hotel room was similarly too quiet.  He checked in under an assumed name,
but there was always the paranoia that the staff would recognize him, sell him
out.  It was still early.  He wondered if Seungri was awake yet or sleeping off
the booze.

He doesn't drink as much as you, though.  Maybe he went out to actually
socialize with other human beings.

That thought led to another, more irritating one.

Maybe he isn't alone.  

Seunghyun smoked on the balcony, one after the other with his essential coffee.

Self-destructive behaviors, Choi, he chided himself.  He'd blown through half
the pack without realizing.  Gross.

Finally he worked up enough courage to call Seungri.  The waiting during the
rings was agony – but then:

“Hey, hyung.”  Seungri's sleepy voice was so cute.  It conjured up sweet images
of a tousle-headed teenager, padding around their dorm in bare feet and cartoon
character pajama pants.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Liar.”  When Seungri laughed Seunghyun stubbed his last cigarette out in the
corpses of the others, jumping to his feet with sudden energy.  He slid open
the balcony door, heading to the mirror to make sure his hair looked good.

“Hyung...you didn't say whether or not you liked my pictures.”   The little
pout in Seungri's voice was fake, but the tease was real.

I wonder if he still wakes up hard.

Seungri's morning wood had been famous in the dorm. Even though Youngbae also
suffered from a serious case, Seungri's maknae position (and bigger, harder to
hide bulge) meant he took the brunt of the teasing. Seunghyun felt his own cock
stiffen in response to another trip down memory lane.

“I liked them. I liked your outfit. What are you wearing now?”  Seunghyun bit
his lip, slightly scandalized by himself.  This was all pretty tame shit,
considering what he'd said on phones in the past, but with Seungri it felt
exciting and new.

Seungri's laugh was everything.

“I'm not telling you.”

“Will you send me another picture, then?”

“Only if you send me one first.”  Seungri's voice was getting rougher, like
when they were together. Alone. Seunghyun couldn't wait any longer.

“I'm better looking in person.”

“It's true,” Seungri sighed. “But I'll take what I can get.”

“How does getting breakfast sound?  You said something about showing me the
best places to eat.”

“Um, what?”

“Where do you usually go when you're here?  I always just have room service, I
don't know,” Seunghyun said.

“Here?  Where's here?  Are you here?”  Seungri was getting louder with each
word, his voice booming out with enthusiasm.  

Oh Seungri.

“I am,” Seunghyun said, stuffing his wallet into his jacket pocket. “Where are
you, specifically?”

“I'm at the Sheraton! T.O.P hyung, you're really here?!”

“I'll be there in ten minutes.”

“I have to take a shower!”

Seunghyun almost said something like, Wait for me, but he pulled back.  It was
easy to get caught up in Seungri's exuberance; between that and the nostalgic
feelings he was getting a little...

I don't know.

His instincts told him to slow down, to remember who he was. Who they were.
Seungri just called him T.O.P again – ostensibly T.O.P was here to investigate
a movie lead with his dongsaeng.  He guessed hanging out in bed all day wasn't
really an option.

“Fifteen, then?” Seunghyun asked.

“Okay! I'll meet you in that lounge on the lobby floor, do you remember? Have
the driver go in the garage, do you–”

“I remember.”  

“Okay!  I'll see you soon!”

“See you soon.”

The drive to Seungri's hotel seemed longer than the trip from the airport. A
pulse in Seunghyun's neck throbbed as he headed down the featureless hallway to
the hotel's private bar and lounge.  He wondered if his guard could see that
his hands were shaking.  

He might see some shit he shouldn't.

Seunghyun would try to behave.

Seungri was waiting for him, looking super clean and delicious in gray suit
pants and a white button down, open at the throat. His black hair was parted on
the side, damp and softly curling in the front.  He stood up from his chair as
soon as he spotted Seunghyun and bowed.

Jesus, what is with that?  Seungri used to nod at most, and Seunghyun had often
suspected it was only a display for people who didn't know them well. Maybe
he's just trying to get a rise out of you. Hell, it's working.  Seunghyun
stopped short a couple feet away, clenching his fists to stop the urge to reach
out and grab.

“Why are you so–?”  Seunghyun let his eyes travel the full length of Seungri's
body, devouring every detail.  Seungri looked down, then back up with a wry
smile.

“This is a work meeting, right?”

“Aish,” Seunghyun said, even though Seungri's statement exactly confirmed his
earlier intuition.

Seungri suddenly swept him into a hug, the warmth of his body feeling more like
a scald to Seunghyun. He went stiff; Seungri was merciful and released him.  

“Let's go eat, I'm starving,” Seungri urged, taking Seunghyun's hand and
heading back down the hallway.  “Your car is still here, right?”

“It better be.”  Seunghyun looked up from their paired hands – Whoa! – and
returned Seungri's little grin.

Over breakfast – western style, like Hong Kong did so well – Seungri explained
what had been going on with him, why he was so M.I.A.  Seunghyun felt his heart
swell with every word, he was so proud.  This was a lead role, Seungri said, he
was the man.  It was a drama, yes, but not just romantic. The story was solid,
the role was complex. And the lead actress?  

“Look,” Seungri said, pulling out his phone.  Seunghyun took it, stifling a
light belch.  He hadn't eaten so much for weeks.

“Wow,” Seunghyun replied, handing it back.  

“She's very popular right now,” Seungri beamed, showing both rows of teeth. He
spoke in English next. “It girl, you know the meaning? Uh...very hot?”

“Yeah.”

“You are more,” he whispered conspiratorially, still in English, leaning
forward over his plate.

Seunghyun just stared back, feeling his ears heat up. The look went on longer
than he was able to handle before he glanced away, taking in the view of
Victoria Harbor outside their window.  He felt more than a little guilty now,
remembering how he'd treated Seungri.  Because he had a boner, and felt
entitled to Seungri's attention?  Seungri was so expansive, optimistic,
dogged,  completely all in to his life and making it the best for himself and
everyone around him. He was more than just an especially assertive sex toy and
Seunghyun would do well to keep that in mind.

When he chanced a look back the maknae was biting off a piece of sausage,
looking very fucking satisfied with himself.  

What a little shit...

“Also hyung, like I said.  The writer and the executive producer want to meet
you.”  

“You were serious about that?” Seunghyun asked.

“Of course I was serious. You're Choi Seunghyun.”  Seungri punctuated the name
with wiggling fingers on raised, open palms.  “I bet they'd rather have you for
my role right now, but you can't speak Chinese.”  He grinned.

“Guilty,” Seunghyun said.

“But for the next movie, our movie. The producer is American. He says a US
studio already purchased the rights to the script.  He wants me, but he wants
you too.  He specifically asked.  We'll play Koreans.  From Korea.”

“A challenge.” Seunghyun's eyebrow went up.

“Ha.  Don't worry, this guy really is good. He's up to your standards, okay? No
kpop or kimchi jokes,” Seungri said.

“That's before the studio gets their hands on it.  And we haven't acted
together for a long time.  You sure you want to?”

“I can't think of a better costar. Unless we can convince the almighty G-Dragon
to join us?”

Seunghyun watched his smiling eyes, feeling a smirk on his own face despite his
efforts to hold it back.  He hoped it would pan out, he really did.  

And that I won't fuck things up in the next two years and wipe that smile off
your face.

If the project was worthwhile Seunghyun knew his confidence would return.  He
would immerse himself in the work instead of imagining five hundred ways it
could all go wrong.  It was hard to feel pessimistic around Seungri anyway; he
always took the good as it came along, not for granted, but he believed life
had a way of working itself out.

Seungri glanced at his watch, one Seunghyun hadn't seen before.

“Looks so expensive,” he said, tapping his own wrist.

“What? This?  A gift from the producer,” Seungri said absentmindedly, turning
the jewelry around a couple times.  “Or probably an advance on my paycheck.” 
He pursed his lips together, his eyes round and apologetic.  “I'm sorry, hyung,
I've got to go. I didn't know you would be coming.”

“It's fine,” Seunghyun said.

“But I need you to go out with me tonight.  To dinner.  I wish we could just go
to this place...oh my god, the best laksa you ever had in your life...  But
when I tell everyone you're here they're going to freak out!”

“Don't make it a big deal,” Seunghyun said.

“You're Choi Seunghyun,” Seungri repeated, doing the hand gesture again.  “I
don't have anything to do with making it a big deal.”

“You know how you can get. Just be cool about it, okay?”

Seungri looked put out enough that Seunghyun reached across the table to touch
his hand.  Seungri looked down at their fingers, his sulk fading into a
thoughtful expression.  

“I'll call you later,” he said, slowly sliding his hand out from underneath
Seunghyun's.  His reluctance was further apparent when they both stood, stiff,
apart.

“Okay.”   Seunghyun reached out and patted him on the wrist, wishing he could
grab it, tug him in to close the awkward gulf between them.  But there were too
many eyes in this room.  “Think they'll give me a watch, too?”

Seungri smiled and Seunghyun felt his own grin lighten his face.

“If you're good tonight, maybe.”

“I'll be good. I'll be so good.”

※ ※ ※

Seunghyun took his lumps from Choice when he called to tell him he wouldn't be
in, not even attempting to come up with an excuse. He considered hitting up a
gallery or taking a walk, but anxiety over striking out on his own kept him
in.  His Chinese was abysmal and he didn't feel like dragging his security
guard around.  He called room service for beer and smokes, then stumbled across
a channel on TV dedicated to classic films.  He couldn't understand as much as
he wanted to and the subtitles were next to useless, but the images were
romantic, beautiful.  He let unformed thoughts drift through his mind, never
letting one settle for too long. He'd been manically busy, pushing himself to a
familiar state of frayed nerves and red eyes. There was so much to do before he
had to go. The group's schedule was going to be challenging, and that wasn't
taking into consideration any of his personal projects.

Personal projects. Mostly he wanted to hold on to the feeling of being okay. 
Contentedness might be asking too much.  He'd shoot for okay.

Seungri surprised him by sending a car to pick him up for dinner.  He surprised
Seunghyun further by actually being in the car.  He was wearing the same outfit
from the morning, but somewhere along the way he'd opened one more button on
his shirt.  When he leaned over to open the door, Seunghyun got a quick eyeful
of his bare chest.   He sat down and buckled up quickly, crossing his legs,
thoughts of the last time they'd been in a backseat together affecting him more
obviously than he liked. Seungri didn't even really look at him as he sat back
and whipped out his phone.  Meanwhile Seunghyun pored over him, finding every
small detail fascinating.

You're so hot.  Look at me.

“Let me show you pictures of people so you won't be lost, okay?” Seungri said.

Seunghyun made some small noise of agreement, blatantly staring and wondering
when Seungri would notice.  If not for the driver and security personnel
Seunghyun would be all over him, force him to pay attention no matter how much
it pissed him off.  He sighed, seeking calm.

Seungri passed him the phone, then gestured at the screen with his middle
finger. Seunghyun loved that habit.

“You've seen her already? My costar, Lin Ling Yu.”

“Yes, beautiful...but why show her again,” Seunghyun teased, handing the phone
back.  “Are you dating?”

“She likes someone else,” Seungri said. Seunghyun could tell his scowl wasn't
entirely genuine.  

“I can't believe you're giving up so easily.”

“What chance could I have against T.O.P?”  

“Oh shit!” Seunghyun hit his arm, letting his hand settle there instead of
taking it away; Seungri looked down at it, then back up at Seunghyun with a
slow grin. “What did you say to her about me?”

“She is excited to meet you.” Seungri shrugged, nonchalant. “Even though I told
her your language skill is too poor, so you only date Koreans.”

“Seungri!” He shoved him a little, provoking Seungri's nervous giggles.

“It's true!”

“It's not! Now she thinks I'm an idiot,” Seunghyun pouted, squeezing the arm
still under his hand.

“As if you won't win her over without even trying.” Seungri turned his chin
down, piercing Seunghyun with a stare that he knew was meant to imitate his
own. “Just sit there and brood.”  Seunghyun closed his eyes, shook his head.
“Anyway, I only told her about dating, not...you know...”

“Seungri, you're an asshole.”

“Would you want me to be honest then, too?”

“Honestly?  Okay. I prefer Koreans,” Seunghyun said, raising one eyebrow at
him.

Seungri's ebullient laughter melted Seunghyun; he couldn't resist sliding his
hand down Seungri's arm to grasp his hand in his own. Daesung was willing to
accept this type of affection from Seunghyun, but Seungri would rarely allow
it...Seunghyun was still floored he'd done it this morning. Seunghyun rubbed
his thumb in small circles against Seungri's knuckles, savoring the moment when
Seungri finally saw him. Seungri gazed at his face, then let his eyes travel
slowly over Seunghyun's body, his expression unusually difficult to read. When
he spoke again his voice was careful, steady.

“Were you drinking today, hyung?”  

Seunghyun stiffened. This was something of a sore point, though mostly
unaddressed in face-to-face conversation.

“I had beer.”  Seunghyun looked at him matter-of-factly, challenging him to ask
how much.

Seungri untangled his fingers from Seunghyun's; Seunghyun had a split second to
feel a defensive stab of shame, until Seungri brought both his hands to
Seunghyun's chest.  Seunghyun sucked in air as soft palms pressed against his
pectoral muscles, one thumb brushing against a nipple.  

God, and I thoughthewas too easy? Seunghyun was hard as a rock already.

Then Seungri got serious, undoing several shirt buttons.

“Seungri-ya–” Seunghyun's eyes flew to the front of the car where the other men
sat in dour silence.

“You had it all wrong,” Seungri murmured. He closed the shirt again, patting
his finished work before he sat back.  

Seunghyun blinked down at himself.  He hadn't noticed any mistake. He checked
his fly, just in case.

“Okay hyung, try to concentrate,” Seungri said, his voice authoritative as he
consulted his phone again.  “This one here is an up and coming
cinematographer–”

※ ※ ※

They were all Chinese, speaking a loud, lively mix of Cantonese and Mandarin
and English. Seungri explained the latter two languages were mostly for their
benefit, not that it helped Seunghyun very much. There was one younger man at
the table who stuck out. He was almost as silent as Seunghyun, examining him
with such naked interest that he was beginning to feel like a piece of
performance art, or maybe a zoo exhibit.
“Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Who is
that?”
“I told you already. If we play our cards right, he'll be our executive
producer. He's American. Rich as hell. That's all I know so far.”
“He keeps looking at me. Is he...you know?”
Seungri glanced at Seunghyun, flexing the muscles in his jaw. Seunghyun knew he
was trying not to smile.
“I don't know. But don't worry, okay? It's not like that.”
Seunghyun thought that was rather naive. He thought of John, who he considered
a friend, but—
“Okay, just so you know,” Seungri continued, “he was talking about your eyes a
little while ago.”
“My eyes? Shit.”
“Well in the context of um, being good for the role...he said 'soulful' or
'full of ghosts,' something like that...”
“What the fuck?”
“Tabi the ghost,” Seungri teased. “Relax. You're just what he wanted.” Then he
turned back to his co-star, who was even more stunning in person. Seungri had
been trying to get Seunghyun to speak to her all night; Seunghyun couldn't
figure out if he was doing it just to be a jerk or if he was really trying to
set them up. For his part, Seunghyun was polite, but counting the minutes he
had to endure in this unfamiliar company. Seungri seemed happy as a clam doing
all the talking, so Seunghyun just shoved noodles in his face and drank
whatever went around.
Suddenly the American stood up, gesturing at everyone to huddle in for a
photograph, catching Seunghyun's eye specifically. Seunghyun was stiff, stiffer
still when Seungri slid an arm around his shoulders. The American took a series
of photos before everyone lapsed back into candid positions, but Seunghyun
still felt awkward.
“Is he going to post them?”
“Probably. Is that okay?” Seungri, ever the object of online examination,
seemed to understand his discomfort, his eyes watching Seunghyun carefully.
Seunghyun shrugged. Seungri's hand moved from Seunghyun's shoulders to his
back, his fingers tracing up and down his spine in a slow caress. Seunghyun
wasn't sure it was helping him relax. “Let's take a selca after this and I'll
post it. The VIPs will like to see it, hyung.”
“They'd rather see you with Jiyong. Nyongtory, nyongtory,” Seunghyun said in a
sing-song voice.
Seungri's tongue ran around the inside of his mouth as he looked Seunghyun in
the eye, his slight embarrassment giving way to a mischievous expression.
“They can wait until the album promotions for that. Besides, we all know Jiyong
prefers Japanese.”
“And you?” Seunghyun asked, finishing off his beer with a quick swallow.
Seungri's fingers clutched at the back of his shirt before he dropped his hand.
“Korean.”

※ ※ ※

Seunghyun lit one of his last cigarettes, slipping it between his lips as he
watched Seungri bid boisterous farewells. He even clapped the American on the
back before he saw him into his car. Their driver waited a short distance down
the alleyway. Seunghyun  tried to soothe himself while he waited for the
nicotine to work its magic, taking in small beauties: the iridescence swirling
in a patch of leaked oil, the gleaming flecks of mica in the black granite of
the building next door.  And then Seungri was the only thing he could see:
white shirt, white grin, white phone cover waggling in his face.  

“Ready to take our picture, hyung?”

“Eh, let me,” Seunghyun muttered, reaching in his jacket pocket for his phone.
Then he paused, eying Seungri through a smokey squint.  “If you don't mind.” 
Seungri held back a smile as he leaned against the wall next to Seunghyun.

“That's fine with me,” he said, all lightness and nonchalance.

“Yī, èr, sān—” Seunghyun recited, holding his phone out in front of them.

Seungri giggled as the shutter clicked.  

“Ah T.O.P hyung, very cute,” he said, leaning into Seunghyun's shoulder.

Seunghyun's anxiety kicked up a notch.  Seungri had kept his distance after the
little quip about preferring Koreans, neither looking at nor touching Seunghyun
unless someone specifically addressed him. Then Seungri was his normal
uninhibited, gregarious self, filling in all the gaps for Seunghyun, saying god
knew what about him.  But Seunghyun didn't much care.  He simply watched him as
he talked, nodding when Seungri would glance over as if seeking confirmation,
picking up every other word if he was lucky.

Seunghyun realized he trusted him, and that it didn't matter if the movie
didn't pan out.  It wasn't why he'd come here.  What Seungri was thinking or
feeling, though, he couldn't say.

“I love it when you patronize me,” Seunghyun said, taking a deep drag on his
cigarette and peeking at Seungri out of the corner of his eye.  Seungri rolled
his in response, then pointed at Seunghyun's phone.

“You going to post it or not?”

“Yeah.”  Seunghyun edited the picture, cropping and lightening with practiced
fingers.  It was a grainy shot, a wisp of smoke obscuring part of his face. At
his side was Seungri in mid-smile, seeming genuinely happy. Seunghyun loved how
such a small thing – counting to three – could make him look like that.

“Don't put up a million versions of it, okay?  That one is fine,” Seungri said,
nudging him.  

“Don't tell me what to do with my Instagram,” Seunghyun replied, staring at
Seungri until neither of them could hold it in anymore.  Seunghyun coughed over
his laughter as Seungri finally stepped away from him, waving away the smoke.  

“We shouldn't keep him waiting much longer.”  He tilted his head at the idling
sedan.  

“Just a second.”  Seunghyun posted the photo as he finished up the cigarette,
chucking the butt in an empty bin as he hurried to follow Seungri.  

“'Panda dinner.'” Seungri read out Seunghyun's caption as he slid into the
backseat next to him. “Really, hyung?”

“Yeah. It was delicious,” Seunghyun smirked.  Seungri shook his head.

“You better hope they don't think we ate panda.”

“I like it.”

“Oh my god.”  Seungri shifted in a place and pressed his lips together, looking
down at his phone as he spoke.  “You don't need to go back right away?”

“Ah...no?”   

“Just checking.”

The rest of the ride to Seungri's hotel was subdued, both of them staring at
their phones and watching the responses roll in...well, Seunghyun was, he
wasn't sure what Seungri was up to except that it involved a lot of swiping and
switching between screens.  It was rare for Seunghyun to post a selca with one
of the other members, rarer still for Seungri to appear on his account unless
he was teasing him.  There were many surprised questions – how did you agree on
a dinner spot, is this for the comeback, where are the other hyungs, what are
you doing?  

I don't know.

After a few words to security, they rode the maintenance elevator to the top
floor and walked in silence to the penthouse suite.  Inside it was all black
marble with white veins, beige carpet, beige couches, meticulously opulent
flower arrangements, huge windows with a view of the harbor.  Seungri looked
around the room like he didn't practically live here. Seunghyun looked at
Seungri.

“You're being so weird,” he finally said.  It was not the nicest way to start a
conversation, but his buzz was fading and he felt confused as hell by Seungri's
periodic reticence.

“You want a drink?” Seungri asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Seunghyun shocked himself by waving the offer away.  He took a few steps closer
to Seungri, the lonely feeling from previous weeks creeping over him.  He was
right there, so handsome, so touchable.  Seunghyun had half hoped this visit of
his would be enough to break Seungri down, to convince him to dismantle
whatever wall he'd built between them. Hell, maybe he'd give Seunghyun a chance
to call the shots. But now that they were alone, Seunghyun discovered that he
desired just the opposite.

I'm here with you. So have me.

He wouldn't always be here. Did he have to say it?

“You have to take care of yourself, you know,” Seunghyun blurted.  Seungri just
stared at him. “You shouldn't be so busy all the time.  You hardly rest. When
I'm gone—”

“You aren't leaving yet,” Seungri interrupted. Seunghyun fisted his hands.

I swear I will fucking punch you. He relaxed his fists.

“You want to watch your mouth,” Seunghyun said evenly.  “And don't let Jiyong—”

“Please,” Seungri scoffed. “You already yelled at me about the—”

“I said what I had to say regarding that particular event,” Seunghyun said.

“You know it was his fault!” Seungri cried.

“So you know you especially have to take care of him!  Don't let him get—”

Seungri shook his head at the floor, chuckling.

“Aish!” Seunghyun was as exasperated by the loss of eye contact as anything.
“What the fuck is so funny!”

“You want me to take care of Jiyong?”

“Well, don't take care of him.”  Seunghyun couldn't stand it anymore.  He
closed the final space between them, taking shallow breaths against the
tightness in his chest, daring Seungri to look away again, to drop those
downturned eyes that could be sultry or mournful by turns.  He wanted to hold
him, kiss him, hit him, shove him.

“Would you care so much if I did?” Seungri asked, his chin jutting out ever so
slightly.

Yes. I'm supposed to be the only man.

Seunghyun felt on the verge of...what?  Asking him to wait for him? Like one of
those cliché sobbing girlfriends in the dramas?  So much would change, so much
that was impossible anyway.  He didn't deserve to make such a request. Didn't
even know if he wanted to. Seunghyun acknowledged that he was always more
interested in the chase. Could he trust himself to maintain interest – not just
for the next two years, but for all the time Seungri was away as well?

Yeah, sure, right.

And as for the maknae.  Seungri could choose anyone, anyone at all. He was
getting older, too. He should experience a lasting relationship. Hell, why not
try for real love, without the looming specter of scandal. That would be one
way to keep out of trouble while the hyungs were away. Seunghyun should be the
one protecting him, not using him, not dragging him through his masochistic
bullshit.

Heavy waves of dread and longing washed over Seunghyun.  Seungri's expression
had changed from teasing to questioning as he noticed Seunghyun's hesitation.  

Go, go, fucking turn around and go.

Instead he leaned into Seungri, needing somewhere to put his weight, somewhere
to rest so he could breathe again.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered.  I'm too selfish. I'm sorry.

He would miss what he had right now: the smell of Seungri, the heady mix of
soap and cologne overlying the hot-blooded maleness that was uniquely his own;
and the feel of him, the sensual strength of his compact body, warm skin and
hard-won muscle and secret, surprising softness.  Seunghyun could recall at any
moment how it felt to be naked underneath him, their bodies creating the most
sublime friction, burning away the persistent solitude for a brief moment.  

Seunghyun was hard again, the only part of him that knew how to articulate a
simple desire. He rocked his hips, willing Seungri to respond in kind.  Seungri
was blinking up at him, trying to process Seunghyun's words or actions, but at
least he wasn't moving away.  Seunghyun yanked his own shirt out of his
waistband, grabbed one of Seungri's hands and shoved it down the front of his
pants, being rough on purpose, wanting to provoke the other man's natural
aggression.  Seunghyun wanted the bruises tonight, the scrapes and toothy
impressions to muse over in the mirror later.  

He bent his knees so his tongue could reach the soft space behind Seungri's
ear, travel down his neck to suck, just a little – not going over the line, or
over Seungri's wall, whatever it was between them.  Seunghyun breathed out a
whimper, needy and vulnerable. The noise seemed to do the trick. Fuck,
finally.  Seunghyun could almost smell the change in Seungri, sighed with
relief as Seungri's hand curved around his straining length.

“You weren't wearing anything underneath this whole time?” Seungri asked.

“No.”

He rotated his wrist around Seunghyun a few times, stroking from base to tip,
being deliberate, thorough, before switching with no transition to short, hard,
jerks.  The muffled sound of skin on skin set the rhythm of Seunghyun's panting
response until Seungri stopped, squeezing as he rolled his wrist a final time.
 

“You're so wet already,” Seungri said, his voice rich with dark affection, his
thumb spreading the precum he'd milked from Seunghyun over the head of his cock
in a leisurely spiral. Seunghyun had a brief inkling of what Seungri must be
like with women. He shuddered, digging weak fingers into his upper arm to brace
himself against the craving Seungri had nurtured in him, wondering if he made
them feel the same way.  “Jesus, hyung, I barely have to do anything and you're
ready to blow.  Why didn't you just call someone?”

A woman, he meant, one of the numbers Seunghyun collected or received almost
without realizing. But Seungri must know that there was no real substitute for
what he gave to him. As if he was unconsciously proving the point, Seungri's
fingers reached lower, pressing deliberately into Seunghyun's perineum, then
spreading to brush over the place Seunghyun wanted him most.  He groaned, loud
and long, the noise echoing through the room.

“Listen to you,” Seungri marveled.  Maybe Seunghyun would have been embarrassed
in another time or place, or with anyone else, but he was past that now.

“Please.” The word dropped out of his mouth, flat with restraint. His hands
clutched at Seungri's hips as he wished for bare skin, held himself back from
pressing against the roving fingers with every ounce of patience.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Seungri said, voice quiet, “I'll give you whatever
you want.”

Specifically? Seunghyun paused, then decided to go with short and and to the
point. “I want your cock.”

Seungri pulled his hand out of Seunghyun's pants and offered it up to him. 
Seunghyun pressed the slick fingers to his lips, sucking each one into his
mouth by turn.  His own taste wasn't what he hungered for, but the look on
Seungri's face went some way toward assuaging his appetite.  When Seungri's
fingers were clean he pulled his hand back, petting Seunghyun's cheek. 
Seunghyun wasn't sure what he saw as he returned Seungri's stare, but the hand
settling on his shoulder and pressing down wasn't ambiguous.

“Remember what I said the first time?  About your perfect face?” Seungri asked.

Seunghyun nodded, his fingers already at work on the fastenings in front of
him.  

“No hands,” Seungri instructed, taking a step back until Seunghyun was in the
position he wanted – palms resting on his legs, head tipped slightly back,
tongue just over his lower lip.  When he took himself out, flushed and firm
with his own anticipation, Seunghyun couldn't help but lean in.  Seungri
stepped back again.  “Eyes on me, Seunghyun.”

Seunghyun blinked slowly before giving Seungri his undivided attention; the
first warm touch of the head of Seungri's cock against the broad, relaxed
surface of his tongue was a true test of obedience versus instinct.  He wanted
to wrap his lips around it, watch Seungri's eyes roll back and hear the breaths
of pleasure rush past his lips, but he held still.  Seungri tapped himself
against the ready muscle, then dragged Seunghyun's lower lip down until it
popped back into place, smearing saliva down the point of his chin and along
one edge of his jaw.  

Seungri went hands free as well after that, using small movements of his hips
to rub himself against Seunghyun's cheek.

“Your dimples,” he mused, trying and not quite succeeding at holding back a
smile.  Seunghyun squeezed in the cheek that was currently under particular
attention, making the indentation appear.  Seungri sighed. “Okay. Suck me off.”

Seunghyun maneuvered Seungri into his mouth, never breaking eye contact,
turning his head and using his tongue to lap him into place.  He closed his
lips just around the tip, gently suckling and tracing his tongue under the
flared edge.  Seungri's lips tightened, distracted hands pushing at his
waistband so that his suit pants and underwear dropped to pool around his
ankles.  Seunghyun's fingers itched to stroke up his calves, to feel the soft
skin behind his knees and on the insides of his thighs, to cup his balls...and
maybe slip a finger between those luscious cheeks.

“I thought you were so desperate.  Are you trying to flirt with me now?”  

Seunghyun huffed air out of his nose, leaned in farther, extending his tongue
as far down along the underside of Seungri's cock as he could before he felt
the telltale resistance of his gag reflex.  He did it a few more times, a
little farther each time, his eyes watering slightly while he kept them fixed
on Seungri's face.  Seungri smiled, almost benevolent.

“Seunghyun, touch yourself.”

He immediately slid his hand to his lap, adjusting his erection from its
cramped position, then lightly ran his fingers along his length, his nails
whispering over the material of his pants.  He got the first taste of precum
from Seungri at the same time, felt himself leak sympathetically.  He suctioned
his lips in a firm O, pulling what liquid he could from his slit, then focusing
a circling tongue firmly on his frenulum, hoping to coax more out.  Seungri's
hips began to roll while his face took on a familiar determined expression, the
one that told Seunghyun he was actively climbing toward his sexual peak, using
the wet heat of Seunghyun's mouth to get there, get off.

Seunghyun moaned deep in his throat as more salty slickness came from Seungri,
his own beginning to smear against his thigh.  He rolled his palm back and
forth against himself, his lids shutting halfway as he felt the familiar
tension build in his thighs, ass, and balls.  He moved his head up and down,
enthusiasm making him pick up speed as he imagined their previous encounters –
the sounds, the smells of their sex and sweat, the aching muscles and soreness
in the days after, reminding him of how thoroughly he'd been fucked.  

Seungri thrust in sync with Seunghyun's movements now, a short exhalation in
the back of his throat punctuating each movement of his hips, his fingers
stroking through Seunghyun's hair and down the sides of his face.  When
Seunghyun left off his cock to go lower, paying attention to the soft skin of
his balls, he allowed it for only a few seconds.

“Tickles,” he complained.  Seunghyun smiled and then moaned when Seungri pulled
at his hair again.  “Show me yours, Seunghyun. It's so fucking pretty, you
shouldn't hide it.”

Seunghyun practically ripped the button off his waistband, licking ardently as
Seungri rubbed himself all over Seunghyun's lower face, his eyes glazing over
as he caught his lip between his teeth.

“Get yourself close.”  

Seunghyun took himself in one fist, moving hard like Seungri had earlier, not
teasing, not playing.  It didn't take long.

“I'm close,” Seunghyun panted, backing off a little. The hand in his hair
pulled again.

“Stop.”   Seunghyun stopped, Seungri thrusting himself fully back into his
mouth for a minute or so.  “Okay, do it again.”

They repeated this three, four, five, more and more times, until Seunghyun lost
count and was at the edge within seconds.  He was throbbing, aching with the
need to come, his last moan sounding a little watery.

“Give me your hand, Seunghyun. No, leave that one on your leg.”  

Seunghyun let go of himself to lift his hand up, surprised but not shocked when
Seungri spat into it.

“Show me how bad you want it. But do not touch your cock,” he said, rubbing the
saliva along two of Seunghyun's fingers.

Seunghyun's pants were still on so it was a bit of a contortion, and saliva
wasn't the greatest lube. He grimaced against the stretch, reaching for that
place inside that he associated with Seungri now, with that profound,
fundamental urge.  His movements were awkward and choppy with excitement; he
wished it was Seungri instead, fucking him out of his mind with deft,
controlled strokes. Seungri stepped forward again, pressing himself against
Seunghyun's parted lips.

“Hyung, you're gonna make me come like this,” he whispered, his voice heated
and low with the foregone conclusion.  Seunghyun moaned his assent from the
back of his throat, though at this point he was just getting in quick swipes of
his tongue when he could remember to do it. Seungri did most of the work
himself, using Seunghyun's face as he pleased, smearing him with saliva and
precum until Seunghyun felt the moisture run along the edge of his jaw and
trickle down his neck. Seungri noticed and smiled fiercely, growling out his
praise. “Unngh...you're so sloppy, Seunghyun, so dirty.”  Seunghyun obliged him
by drooling more, grinding down on his fingers as Seungri began stroking
himself with purpose, his breaths hitching in his chest.  Seunghyun maintained
careful eye contact, flexing his tongue, trying to control himself because
Seungri hadn't said—

“Get close again, Seunghyun,” he said.

Seunghyun fucked himself harder, his wrist and jaw aching, not sure if he could
do it before his entire body simply shook to pieces.  He twisted his fingers
inside, trying to focus on the place that made everything below his waist seize
up.

When it hit, a shocking fist of sensation from the very center of his pelvis,
he stopped breathing.

“Oh, fuck,” Seungri sighed, his first thick, hot line of cum jetting over
Seunghyun's tongue and nose. Seunghyun was too gone to flinch, his own cum
pumping helplessly out and spattering down onto the marble next to his leg. 
Another shot hit along his cheek, just under one eye, and then Seungri was
smearing himself through the mess as he gritted his teeth, the last pulses of
his pleasure dribbling out against Seunghyun's lips.  A small bubble formed
from one nostril as Seunghyun eventually exhaled; Seungri bit his lip again,
grim satisfaction spreading over his flushed face. Seunghyun swallowed what was
in his mouth before gulping in a great lungful of air, his fingers sliding out
as he sagged back on his heels.  Seungri took a moment to appreciate the
aftermath; Seunghyun returned his gaze with one eye, cautiously opening the
other when he was sure his lashes weren't covered.  He expected to be chastised
or at least teased for coming without permission, but Seungri suddenly looked
chagrined.

“Wait,” he said, taking a few shuffling steps out of his pants before walking
over to the wet bar, treating Seunghyun to a somewhat rare view of his bare
legs and ass.  He returned a minute later with a few items, one somewhat
unexpected.  “I could really use that drink now.  How about you?”  

He held a full wine glass to Seunghyun's tingling lips. Seunghyun sipped
dutifully, tasting the intermingled flavors of Seungri and a cherry-dominated
dry red.  Seungri ran a damp cloth over Seunghyun's face and neck while he
drank, then took the glass away. He drained the rest himself before he held out
another cloth to Seunghyun.

“Refill,” he stated, walking away again.  Seunghyun slowly got to his feet, his
knees stiff and his wrist feeling like it belonged to someone else...and he was
still semi-hard, his body humming with unspent virility.  He shook his head,
busying himself with cleaning his hands and body, getting his clothes back in
order, and wiping up the mess on the floor.  When Seungri returned with a
separate glass for both of them, Seunghyun took his but didn't drink, observing
the younger man in silence. Seungri wouldn't look at him and he was drinking
the wine like it was water instead of an intense (and likely very expensive)
blend.  

“You want me to go,”  Seunghyun said, remembering Seungri's quick departures
from his house.

“No.”  Seungri's reply was immediate, but he still wasn't looking at him.  He
finished off the glass and went back to the bar.  After all the eye contact
during the blowjob, Seunghyun was at a loss.

“This is good,” Seunghyun muttered, taking another sip.  Seungri was drinking
behind the bar now, so fast it was leaking out the corners of his mouth. 
“Seungri, what the hell? You're wasting it.”

“I'm thirsty,” he retorted, trying to turn away as Seunghyun approached.
Seunghyun grabbed his glass out of his hands and set it on the surface of the
bar with a sharp clink. Wine sloshed over the edge, splotching the marble with
dark purple.  “Ya! Now who's wasting it?”  

Seunghyun controlled a sudden urge to slap the sneer off his face. He'd never
really hit Seungri, but he was damned close now. He realized his anger was
actually a mask for concern, but his heart was racing so fast he couldn't
think. He let his breath out in a quick huff before he went to the closest
mirror, checking his skin and hair.  It wasn't like his guard didn't suspect
what they were up to, but it would be a little gratuitous to get into the car
with remnants of his recent facial drying to a fine glaze.  

Seungri let him get one hand on the door handle before he called out in a
plaintive voice.

“Hyung!  Let's take another selca together.”  

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Seunghyun said, pivoting as equal parts relief
and irritation flowed through him.  The expression on Seungri's face was
breaking his heart.  But he was at least looking at him again.

Fuck. Are we really doing this?

Seunghyun went to him, realizing he appeared more combative than he felt by the
way Seungri shrank back.  He stared him down for a few more seconds, until
Seungri grabbed his hand.  He pulled Seunghyun deeper into the suite, out of
the living area and to the bathroom.  The marble color scheme was reversed,
white shot through with black veins.  Seunghyun stood, feeling stupefied; maybe
the wine was kicking in.  Seungri released his hand to start the taps for the
deep, wide tub, then removed his shirt before starting in on Seunghyun's.  He
undressed him with efficiency, seeming careful not to touch his body.

When the tub was half full he gestured for Seunghyun to get in.  Seunghyun
obeyed, feeling Seungri's eyes on him as he dipped one foot in to test the
temperature.  His legs were so long he knew he'd take up most of the room, but
Seungri climbed in after him with no hesitation, facing him with his knees held
to his chest. When he turned the water off it seemed exceptionally quiet. 
Seunghyun watched him through the steam, willing him to break the silence, then
rolled his eyes when Seungri persisted with the wordless act.

“Did you want to take the picture in here?” Seunghyun teased, wondering if he'd
take the bait.  He would like to add a picture of Seungri in the bath to his
collection, now that he thought of it.

“No,” Seungri said, red in the face from embarrassment or hot water or wine or
a combination of all three.  “I just thought you might want to clean up
first...to relax.”

“Relax.”  Relaxing was usually the farthest thing from what they did together.

“Yeah,” Seungri said, tapping his knees together with nerves. Seunghyun watched
his face carefully as he took Seungri's ankles in his hands, pulling his legs
away from his body and arranging the slim calves over his own thighs.  He
chanced a slow slide up with his hands, stroking over Seungri's bent knees, and
when Seungri seemed to melt instead of freeze he kept going, stopping when he
reached his mid-thighs.  He squeezed the thick muscles gently.

“Comfortable?” Seunghyun decided to humor him.  If Seungri didn't want to talk,
they didn't have to talk.  The picture, like the movie deal, was just an
excuse.  

Seungri nodded, his eyes slipping closed as he tilted his head back.  Seunghyun
watched his adam's apple bob as he accepted Seunghyun's touch, his entire body
going limp and languid.

He wants me to stay.  Terrifying.  Also kind of wonderful. Seunghyun kept
massaging; he didn't realize Seungri was asleep until he woke up with a jolt,
one hand splashing water into his own face.  Seunghyun laughed at his amazed
blinking.  

“Seungri-ya, is this what you do at hotels? Get drunk and pass out in the tub? 
That's dangerous.”

Seungri muttered something unintelligible as he rubbed wrinkled fingers over
his face, mussing up his bangs into crazy spikes and corkscrews.  Seunghyun's
heart cramped.

“Let's get out,” he suggested, the words husky as they passed over the lump in
his throat.

“I still want more wine,” Seungri said, pulling his legs back.

God, Seunghyun thought, sitting still as he watched him climb out and towel
himself off, feeling the swell of blood pull his cock back to semi-erect. 
Seungri shook his head when he felt Seunghyun's eyes on him, his embarrassed
smile flickering over his face.  

“Don't be a pervert, hyung.”  He held out a dry towel. “Come on, finish the
bottle with me at least.”

“Okay,” Seunghyun said. Far be it from him to act like he was above polishing
off the wine.

When he came out of the bathroom Seungri was already in bed, glass in one hand
and phone in the other.  Seunghyun shuffled over in the too-small hotel
slippers, pulling the too-short robe down his legs as he sat on the edge of the
bed. Seungri took a sip of his drink, then raised his eyebrows as he swallowed.

“You aren't hovering there like that all night, are you?” he asked.

“When are we taking the selca?” Seunghyun said, feeling the slow swoop of
nerves begin again in his lower stomach.

“Now. Come here.” Seungri patted the empty pillow.

Seunghyun kicked the slippers off and crawled up next to him; Seungri sat up
straighter and passed the wine to Seunghyun as he opened up the app on his
phone.  Seunghyun took a small sip, and then another.  It was unusually good
for stuff stocked in a hotel, even a five star.  He wondered if Seungri had
requested it.

“Ah, look at your pictures from yesterday, hyung,” Seungri said with a little
grin, tilting the phone screen toward him.

“Yeah I know, I took them.”

Seungri snorted, then double tapped one.

“You are so photogenic,” he continued, then glanced over. Seunghyun just looked
back, letting him talk. “It's true! But in person—neo ytaemune neo ttaemune
michyeoga whoa oh oh—”

“Oh my god, how can you be so—!” Seunghyun reached to cover his mouth.  Seungri
dodged his hand and laughed, delighted at getting the response he wanted.  “If
you ask, they might let you join.”  

“Think I'm pretty enough?” Seungri said, putting on his smug expression.

“I thought we were talking about me.”

“Put your head closer to mine,” Seungri said, flipping the phone around.
Seunghyun did, raising his hand up to make a finger heart.  Seungri scowled
when he saw the result.  “Ah hyung, don't cover your face. Why bother?”

“Look at that,” Seunghyun pointed.  “You can see your shoulder.”

“Want to try again?”

“I like it,” Seunghyun teased, making a grab for the phone. The look Seungri
gave him made Seunghyun burst out laughing.  “Oh please. Please.”  He struggled
for a straight face, managed it for a few seconds.  “I've learned my lesson,
okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Seungri simpered. Then, a few taps later: “Done.”

“What! You posted it? Can you tell we're in a bed?”

“No,” Seungri said, glancing over at Seunghyun and then back at his phone.

Seunghyun stared at him, utterly shocked. Had he had too much to drink? The
only way that picture could be more unusual was if Seunghyun himself had posted
it.  Out of the five of them Seungri was likeliest to take a fall for anything
even slightly off the straight and narrow.  Seunghyun, on the other hand, could
post some pretty outrageous shit on social media if he really wanted to, but he
preferred to reveal himself through works of art, or to share an image that
appeared serious but was actually just a joke (it didn't bother him if he was
the only one who laughed). This picture, though, conveyed a sense of intimacy
that made Seunghyun feel exposed. It was dim, tightly focused on his fingers,
their faces slightly blurred but unmistakable in the background.

“Seungri, they'll talk,” he began, until Seungri cut him off by laying a cool
finger over his lips.  

“Let them. We can say we were getting a massage.”  Seungri dropped his hand
when Seunghyun snorted.

“That doesn't make it better.”  Seunghyun leaned over, trying to see his
screen. Seungri tilted the phone away.  “Did you caption it?”

“No.”  Seungri's smile was small, secret.  “I should put this up next.”  He
handed the phone over to the Seunghyun.  Seunghyun watched the first few
seconds of the video and gasped.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked.

“Kidding, kidding,” Seungri laughed, retrieving his phone from Seunghyun's limp
hand. “What, what's that face?”

“You said...I watched you delete that, I was...” Seunghyun's voice trailed off.

Did I? Did I actually see him delete it?

“You were on your knees,” Seungri answered for him, setting the phone down.
“Aish, don't spill the wine.” Seunghyun had forgotten he was even holding the
glass. Seungri took it from him, sipped, then offered it back.  “Finish.”

Seunghyun did, hardly tasting it. After the lecture Seungri gave about privacy
and stupidity and SD cards,he'd sent the video to himself before he deleted it
off Seunghyun's phone? Seunghyun didn't have much time to dwell on his
cognitive dissonance. Seungri's eyes on him had grown dark and critical.
Seunghyun could get defensive, or angry, but he felt himself get hard instead,
his face heating up at his easy response.

“Aren't you tired,” Seunghyun suggested, attempting to maintain some
composure.  “You should sleep.”

“Are you? You don't want more?” Seungri set the empty glass on the bedside
table, then turned back to Seunghyun, his face open, expectant. Seunghyun knew
he wasn't asking about the wine.  He glanced from his eyes to his lips, his
breath catching when Seungri leaned over him, their faces just inches apart. 
They hadn't kissed since that night in Tokyo. Seunghyun guessed that for
Seungri it was a step too far, so he never pushed it, never even asked.  There
was sex and there was kissing, but god, Seungri had been so good at it.

Seungri had found him out already, slipping one hand into the folds of his
robe.

“When you said you wanted mine,” he whispered, resting his forehead against
Seunghyun's and nuzzling his nose with his own, “I knew where you meant. You
want it so bad, but I didn't give it to you. Why am I so unkind?” Seunghyun's
breaths came out shallow and shaking as Seungri's other hand stroked from his
ear down to his neck, settling there with a grip as strong as the one around
his cock.  “Answer me.”

“I don't know,” Seunghyun said.Because I deserve it.

“That's a shitty answer,” Seungri murmured, his warm breaths teasing over
Seunghyun's lips.

“You like to be in control,” Seunghyun blurted, then bit his lip at an
especially skillful twist of Seungri's wrist. Seungri smiled.  

“That doesn't mean I can't be nice. Would you like me to be nice, Seunghyun?”  

Seunghyun let out a quiet moan as Seungri's hand left his cock to stroke the
soft skin between his thigh and his balls, then drifted lower. Seunghyun's legs
spread automatically at the prompt before three things happened at once: 
Seungri's lips gently pressing against his own, the fingers at his neck
tightening, and the fingers below pushing in and up, not penetrating but
declaring intent.

His mouth still felt overused, his lips tender as Seungri used his to open
them, but Seunghyun ignored the pain, marveling again at Seungri's natural
eroticism, at the body curving so neatly into his.  He returned the ever-more-
insistent kisses for as long as he could stand, until the hold on his throat
and the demanding pace made him too short of breath. He broke off, panting.  

“Too much?” Seungri asked, sitting back and sliding down the headboard.

Seunghyun shook his head 'no.' Seungri was right, of course.  He wanted him so
bad, even if (or especially because) it stung.

“The black toiletries bag on the dresser,”  Seungri said. “Stuff's in there.”

Seunghyun was across the room and back in seconds, dumping the bottle of lube
and a condom packet next to Seungri and awaiting further instructions.  He felt
a moment's satisfaction when Seungri flipped the sheets off.

Oh, look atyou.

“Put it on me.”  And did Seungri's voice sound as eager as his cock looked? 
Seunghyun ripped into the foil, praying he didn't damage anything in his haste,
then set about the task of unrolling the condom and dripping the fluid over
Seungri. Seunghyun waited just long enough for Seungri to grow fully hard under
his hands before he squeezed out more lube, this time using it on himself. 
Seungri watched with a prideful little smirk. “Ahh, you can't wait at all, can
you?”

But Seunghyun could wait, and he did, on his knees next to Seungri with the
robe gaping open, only held together by the loose belt at his waist. Seungri
pulled at the tip of the condom, checked the grip at the base, all while his
eyes flicked back to roam over Seunghyun's body like he hadn't seen it until
just now.

You missed me, too.

“Ride me, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, his voice raspy with his own desire. His
arms reached out.

They hadn't done this before; normally it was Seunghyun on his hands and knees,
or Seunghyun on his back, or Seunghyun against the wall, or Seunghyun bent over
the nearest load-bearing piece of furniture.  He climbed into the circle of
Seungri's arms, watching his face as he straddled him.  Seungri seemed fervent
as he ran a palm down the center of Seunghyun's chest, but he still held
himself in check. Seunghyun reached behind himself, aligning the tip of
Seungri's cock with his hole.  His eyes shut as he let his own weight do most
of the work; even with their earlier activities, this part remained a challenge
for him.  Meanwhile Seungri's hands were busy; at his waist, tugging the belt
of his robe open, then grazing over his nipples before taking them in a firm
grip, his force increasing as Seunghyun bore down.  It was the same intense
stretch as always, the same overwhelming intrusion – and suddenly Seunghyun was
sliding the rest of the way down, feeling so incredibly full so fast. Seungri
let go of his nipples with a hard pull as soon as Seunghyun's ass met his pubic
bone, making Seunghyun cry out at the shock of pleasure mixed with pain. Then
he did it again, and again.
 
Seunghyun sighed and tipped his head back, unable to hold still, rocking in
place to acclimate himself. The muscles in his abs, thighs, and ass were
already tight and shaking.

“I forgot, I was supposed to be nice. But you like that so much, huh?” Seungri
teased, going back to merely brushing his thumbs over the sensitive nubs.

“Oh, shit,” Seunghyun whimpered, the slightest hip roll from Seungri causing a
hot rush over his entire body. His head dropped back down, his spine curving
into a C as he endured the sensation.

“Look at what you did, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, sounding amused.  

Seunghyun opened his eyes when he finally felt like he could, first seeing the
enigmatic smile on Seungri's face and then looking farther down.  

“God,” he whispered. “Did I come?”

“I don't know, did you?”

Seunghyun was leaking profusely at least, all over Seungri's lower stomach. How
could there be so much left? He watched as Seungri swirled his fingers through
the puddle, then reverently painted the slickness along the curve of
Seunghyun's erection.

“How am I still like that,” Seunghyun muttered to himself, his fingers
clutching at the sheets next to his knees.

“You know how it is sometimes,” Seungri shrugged. “You get yourself worked up
and it—”

Seungri's words cut off when Seunghyun lifted up an inch or so before sinking
back down; and there was a faint twinge of pain, yes, but overall a sense of
literally riding an edge, every stroke filling him up and making him so, so
close, but not quite there. He closed his eyes again, trying to decide how long
he could stand the torment. He felt gentle fingers at his tip, rubbing over his
slit.  

“Mm, I think your ass really loves this position.  Every time you go back down
there's more,”  Seungri said, his voice almost a purr. “And you make the
hottest faces.”   Seunghyun cringed, then shivered as Seungri tugged his robe
open. Seungri sighed as it slipped off Seunghyun's shoulders, such a wistful,
unusual noise to hear from him that Seunghyun opened his eyes.  “Don't be
embarrassed. Seunghyun, Seunghyun...” Seungri tossed the robe off to one side,
then reached for him again.

The way Seungri said his name – their name – made Seunghyun's stomach flip.
Seungri often dropped the honorific during their encounters, but tonight it
sounded less like a power play and more like a claim.

Blunt nails scratched down the sides of Seunghyun's arms before one hand
settled in hard on his hip, the other pressing against his back to move him
forward.  Seunghyun groaned at the change in angle, bracing his palms against
the headboard as he began to move faster. Seungri was still as Seunghyun worked
his hips, staring fixedly at the place where their bodies met.

“God,” Seunghyun whispered again, the friction from his balls and cock sliding
against Seungri's slick abs feeling absolutely divine in combination with
Seungri so hot and big inside of him.  It was too much when Seungri looked up,
his pupils blown wide with absolute pleasure. “Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun whined,
hoping the pleading tone was enough to satisfy him, because there was no
question about this orgasm, no holding it back.

Seungri grabbed Seunghyun's other hip and thrust upward, the extra pressure on
his prostate making Seunghyun freeze with the exquisite leap in pleasure. He
let out one short scream, fingers gripping the wood of the headboard as he
watched himself go again, milky white pearls dotting here and there on
Seungri's chest.

“Fuck yes, Seunghyun,” Seungri breathed, gritting his teeth as he gave into his
instinct, arching his back to push himself deeper into Seunghyun's heat.
Seunghyun felt himself shudder all over as Seungri refused to let him come
down, hitting him faster and harder in that insatiable, astonishing place. 
“One more time, come on, come for me, yes Seunghyun, come.”  Seunghyun made a
small, surrendering noise as he released what had to be the final remnants left
in his body, contracting weakly around Seungri swelling even harder inside
him.  These full-bodied orgasms made Seunghyun's ears ring, made Seungri's
fiercely satisfied cries sound far away as his last few thrusts stole the air
from Seunghyun's lungs. Finally Seungri's hips stuttered, his bruising fingers
sliding through the sweat on Seunghyun's hips to clutch at his ass.

Exhaustion made Seunghyun sag as every muscle ran to water. He gave up on
staying upright, pulling off Seungri's wilting cock with a little wince as his
muscles there spasmed on its sudden absence.  He was angling to fall beside him
until surprisingly strong hands at his back pulled him straight down. Seungri's
lips tickled against the hollow of Seunghyun's throat.
“Stay, stay—don't—”

“I'm not...I wasn't,” Seunghyun's half aware assurances came out in a smothered
whisper, his face awkwardly pressed into the pillows. He could feel Seungri's
body still trembling under him, the panting breaths against his neck heavy and
hot.

They laid that way until Seunghyun's skin felt like ice wherever he wasn't
touching Seungri, his neck a little sore and his ass a lot, and everything
sticky besides.  Seunghyun squirmed and the hands at his back dropped
immediately.

“Eh, sorry, I'm so tired all the sudden,” Seungri slurred, watching through
slow blinks as Seunghyun slid off him.

No shit.

“Can I smoke?” Seunghyun asked, pushing up on one elbow.  He usually hated
awkward after-sex moments, felt vulnerable, unwilling to speak.  But in spite
of his weariness, he felt better now than before. And sleepy Seungri was so
fucking cute, just like always. He tilted his head. “I wish you did.”

“What? No you don't,” Seungri grumbled.  He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “You
just hate having to ask.”

“Yeah maybe,” Seunghyun admitted. He swung his legs over the edge of the
mattress and got to his feet, then had to brace himself against the wall for a
second to get his balance back. Whoa. Fuck.

Seungri sighed, heaving himself off the bed and following Seunghyun into the
bathroom.  He paused when he reached the sink, staring blankly down at himself.

“My kind of canvas,” Seunghyun said, running a hand towel under the faucet.

“What?” Seungri's eyes flew back up to meet his in the mirror.

Seunghyun shrugged, then reached behind himself with the towel, maintaining
direct eye contact.

“We should've saved the bath for after, huh?”

“You're so...uch,”  Seungri turned away from him, trying to be discreet as he
removed the  condom.  Seunghyun grinned.

“But you love me anyway,” he said to Seungri's back.  

“Okay, go smoke. Not in the bed, though,” Seungri said, giving Seunghyun a
sidelong glance as he brought his own towel over to the sink.

Seunghyun found a thick glass ash tray in the main room.  Standing next to the
windows nude was normally not his thing, but he felt a bizarre sense of calm.

Who am I, where am I, he thought, snickering at his own melodrama. When Seungri
walked up to him, wearing soft cotton shorts and holding out an empty case for
his contacts, Seunghyun accepted it with a nod. Seungri yawned and walked off
scratching his ribs, just as wordless. They'd done all of these mundane pre-
sleep tasks next to each other thousands of times before, but it'd been a very
long time since since they'd shared a room, let alone a bed. Seunghyun should
feel out of place.  He should want to be in his own home, his own bed.  

Instead he was gazing at Seungri lying on his stomach like he was the only
thing in the world worth looking at.  Seungri's bleary eyes cracked open when
Seunghyun turned the sheets back, taking him in for just a moment before
shutting again.

I know. It's fucking weird but I don't wanna put clothes on right now, okay?

As soon as Seunghyun's head hit the pillow he felt like he was sinking into the
bed, becoming one with it.  His eyelids weighed a thousand pounds.

Who am I? I am this bed.

Seunghyun snickered again, wondering if he was finally losing it for real. If
so, insanity beat the hell out of insomnia. At the sound, Seungri reached out
to him with limp fingers. Seunghyun sightlessly intertwined them with his.

“I always wanted to with you,” Seungri said, his confession soft, dreamy.

“Take a bath?  That's cute, maknae.”   Seunghyun couldn't resist one last
tease.

Seungri squeezed his hand, then relaxed again.

“Shh,hyung.”


※ ※ ※  

Seunghyun rolled over and groaned softly, every joint in his body feeling
sprung. He was pretty sure a rat had crawled into his mouth to die, and he had
to pee so fucking bad. He leaned over the side of the mattress and fumbled
around for his discarded robe.  He cinched the belt as he lurched into the
bathroom with one open eye.

“Aish!”

Seungri stood at the mirror,  clad in thick-rimmed glasses and a white towel
around his waist. Half his face was covered in shaving foam and he held a book
in one hand. There was also a coffee cup and a folded newspaper.  Seunghyun
opened his other eye, not that he could make out much more detail. He vaguely
recalled putting the contacts case Seungri lent him on the far corner of the
bathroom counter.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Seungri complained, retrieving his dropped
razor from the sink.

“Sorry,” Seunghyun croaked, shuffling his way over to the toilet.  When he was
done he came back to stand at Seungri's side, taking his soft hand away from
his jaw to put pressure on the folded tissue with his own fingertips.  “Why do
you always do ten things at the same time? Don't you have an electric shaver?”

“It ran out of charge yesterday, and I forgot—” Seungri's voice trailed off as
his face colored with a light blush.

In all the excitement?

“You'd still be scary,” Seungri continued, his eyes moving over Seunghyun's
face, examining him more closely than Seunghyun liked. “I thought you were
going to sleep all day, hyung.”

Seunghyun checked on the cut to distract him. Blood welled up, an undeniable
compulsion striking  in the next instant; he darted forward, licking at the red
bead before Seungri could react. Seungri jerked back with a short bark of
shocked laughter.  

“Jesus, see what I mean about scary?  If I knew you were a vampire...you have
to invite them or they can't come in, you know.”

“I'm a ghost. I can go anywhere I like.” Seunghyun smiled, replacing the tissue
over the red spot on Seungri's jaw.  Then his brain registered what Seungri had
said.  “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven, last time I checked.”

“Shit. My flight.”

“You didn't tell me you had one,” Seungri said, looking apologetic. “I was
going to wake you soon, anyway.”

“You have to go,” Seunghyun said, his lower lip jutting out just a bit.

“I have to be in Shanghai by four,” Seungri said, his hand coming up to cover
Seunghyun's and draw it away from his face.  “Still bleeding?”

“No.”  Seunghyun turned away from Seungri's searching eyes, stealing the coffee
cup and sipping as he searched for his contacts.

“I heard your phone ring earlier,” Seungri said, rinsing the razor and starting
on the other side of his face.  

“What? When?”  Seunghyun had his ringer on for a very select group of people. 
He really must have been dead to the world if it didn't wake him.

“About eight?”  

Seunghyun finished placing his lenses, blinking them around his dry sockets
with a wince.  As tempting as Seungri looked in 20/20, water was what his body
wanted most of all.

Probably couldn't even if I wanted to.

He downed half a bottle in a series of gulping swallows before he picked up his
phone from the bedside table.  Sure enough, one missed call and several LINE
messages. All from Jiyong.  Mild déjà vu stole over him as he opened the app.

> I knew you wouldn't answer...too busy making a memory?
>I should have told you before
>So hot, so fun, so good at making friends
>Can't even count them all
>But talking about love...
>Never wants to get married
>Understand?
>I wasn't the one who ended it.  
>If you think I'm jealous, you are dumber than I realized
>I love you hyung, call me later

Normally Seunghyun would reply to Jiyong at soon as possible, but he just
dropped the phone on the bed and stared as if it had become a live and
potentially dangerous thing. He knew Jiyong was being cryptic because of the
medium, but he caught his meaning.  It was directly at odds with what Seungri
had said to Seunghyun, though.  Seungri had been very clear. Just sex.

Now Seunghyun was supposed to digest that their maknae, who spoke in public
about his future as a father, didn't want to get married. Well, just because
you didn't want to didn't mean you wouldn't do it anyway.  Seunghyun knew more
than a few people in that situation.  It was too indulgent to say “never” when
you were only in your twenties, like you had so much time you couldn't even
imagine how things would change, how you would change.  Seunghyun realized more
and more each day that time was short, very fucking short indeed.  

Of course he doesn't want to get married.  He keeps himself so busy he can
barely jerk off.   

But that wasn't true. Seungri's prowess (or lack thereof) with women was a
years-long running gag.  He had a specific type the hyungs could point out to
tease him with, but he'd grown so reticent these days that they'd begun to rib
him about hiding a special someone. A real girlfriend.

Seunghyun knew that wasn't what Jiyong meant, anyway. And Seungri dumped him?

Jiyongie, you're telling me thisnow?   

The intermittent-but-persistent romance between Jiyong and Seungri officially
ended in 2013, when Seunghyun had been so far down the rabbit hole of
depression he could barely see beyond his own pain.  Jiyong refused to discuss
it with him, would shut Seunghyun down with an icy glare if he dared raise the
issue.  Daesung said he got a similar cold shoulder, but Seunghyun doubted it.
Seunghyun knew that his history with Jiyong made it different. He suspected
Youngbae knew  the details, but it would be useless to ask him. He was Jiyong's
confidante for a reason.

Why didn't I ever try to talk to Seungri?

Seunghyun believed that Jiyong wasn't jealous; he and Seungri still had enough
spark to keep the fanservice fires alight, but offstage Jiyong was heavy with a
certain acquaintance overseas.  Hell, just a couple of weeks ago Seunghyun had
overheard him ask the maknae for advice on booking a romantic Christmas
vacation in Sapporo. The two men had managed to rebuild their friendship, but
they kept a certain careful distance between them.

Careful like Seungri hauling ass out of the house as soon as he's done with me?
 

But then there had been last night.

And this morning, which is currently still happening, by the way.

Seunghyun leaned forward to snatch up the phone, his hungover head screaming
for mercy. He texted Jiyong a promise to call, then went back in the bathroom. 
Seunghyun expected his clothes to be where he'd left them, in a heap by the
tub, but found them neatly arranged on a hanging rack.  

“My pants won't fit, but you can borrow a shirt if you want,” Seungri said,
turning from the mirror, clean shaven and frankly beautiful. Seunghyun tore his
eyes away with no small effort.  “I tried steaming your things next to the
shower but they're still—”

“If you have to go before I'm done, that's fine,” Seunghyun interrupted,
opening the shower door. He shrugged out of his robe and hung it on a peg,
ignoring Seungri's raised eyebrows.

“Uh—I'll still be here. I'll order something for you to eat.”

“Don't bother. I just want to smoke.”   Seunghyun started the water.

Seungri crinkled his nose; Seunghyun heard him muttering something as he left
the room.  Seunghyun leaned against the tiles, willing away the dull throb
behind his eyes.  Where was his peace from last night?

Dammit, Jiyong.

But it wasn't Jiyong's fault.  In spite of his constant self-doubt, Seunghyun
knew his real chance to get cold feet had come months ago; instead he'd jumped
in feet first.  Believing what?  That Seungri was hot and they were hot for
each other.  That they'd get it out of their systems, cool down, enlist. Fin.

In the doorway of the bathroom he paused to step into his wrinkled pants,
staring at a wheeled serving cart that had appeared next to the bed. On top
were a couple of silver-domed dishes, a covered cup of coffee, and a pack of
his usual brand next to a new lighter. On the bed itself, laid out flat, was a
shirt they'd shared however many times. Red and navy stripes.  Seunghyun
thought it looked better on him, but Seungri had managed to swipe it from the
group wardrobe at some point.  Seunghyun pulled it over his damp head, then
lifted the domes.  Kimchi jigae, steamed rice.  Basic, simple, definitely not
from the hotel kitchen.

What the hell, Seungri?

Seunghyun could hear him speaking rapid-fire in the main room, a mix of Korean
and occasional Chinese, punctuated by a smooth sort of laughter Seunghyun
recognized as the maknae in CEO Lee mode.

Seunghyun lit up a cigarette and sat on the bed, feeling calmer but stranger
with each puff. He remembered when it'd been the five of them together always,
and Seungri forever striving for the older boys' attention and approval. He had
that mop of unruly black hair, the bushy eyebrows and awkward nose that
would've dominated his face but for that huge, toothy grin, and somehow the
entire effect was so irresistible.  Even more endearing was the careful glance
he'd give Seunghyun before jumping into his spotlight, and the sad puppy pout
when Seunghyun would put him back in his place. Hyuunng!

“Hyung? Hey, Seunghyun.  You didn't eat anything.”  

Ah, there's still the pout.

“I don't feel hungry until later, usually,” Seunghyun said, blowing the last
drag out of the corner of his mouth, away from Seungri.  

“I'll make sure there's something for you on the plane, then.”  Seungri was
back on his phone already, thumbs busy.  

“What plane?”  He stubbed the cigarette out on the saucer and took up the
coffee. That couldn't wait.

“I arranged a flight for you,” Seungri said, still looking at his screen. “We
can ride to the airport together, but we have to go soon. I'm letting my
manager know to meet me there in—”  He glanced up, saw Seunghyun sipping. “Ah,
sorry. I know you prefer espresso but I thought it would go bad before I could
get it up here.”

“Why are you—” Seunghyun stopped, narrowing his eyes.  “Arranged? How?”

Seungri's smile was slow, tentative until he was sure Seunghyun wasn't annoyed.

“I have my ways,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

“Yeah, apparently.  Ah, shit. I have to get my things from the other room,”
Seunghyun said.

“Aish, why did you bother?” Seungri complained.

“Bother with what?”  Seunghyun suddenly did feel annoyed.  

“You know you could have just stayed with me.”  Seungri furrowed his brow right
back at Seunghyun.

“It's not...” Seunghyun paused, caught off guard. His irritation evaporated as
he struggled to find words. “It's not polite. To invite yourself over.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot how polite you always are to me.”  Seungri dodged
Seunghyun's reaching arm, his expression apologetic.

Fuck, you're making him as moody as you are.  Some influence.

“Come on, eat something, please,” Seungri cajoled from a safe distance.  “Call
your hotel, have your things sent to the front desk.”

Seunghyun shoved a clump of rice into his mouth, chewing noisily.  He didn't
want it. What he wanted was more time, any lazy number of minutes to run his
hands under Seungri's shirt, to squeeze the soft spots at his hips, to curl his
fingers into the warm dip of his lower back.  Seungri watched him eat for a
second, seeming to sense his longing, then mouthed call before he backed out of
the bedroom.

In the car they were quiet again, though this time the silence held less
charge. Seunghyun read emails and news articles but had trouble focusing on any
of it while Jiyong's LINE messages replayed themselves in the back of his mind.
Meanwhile, Seungri kept returning his glances with a crooked little curve of
his lips, his small dimple teasing Seunghyun's own into appearing. The car
pulled up to the departures curb all too soon. Seungri leaned forward to speak
to the driver.

“This is my stop, but you stay,” he said to Seunghyun, tapping him on the
thigh.

“What?” Seunghyun looked down at Seungri's fingers, then back up.  There was
that smug smile again.

“Your plane has a private hangar.”

“Seungri-ya—”

“Don't worry about it, okay? It's a friend of a friend, they owe me,” Seungri
said.  

“You shouldn't,” Seunghyun said, shaking his head.

“I did.”  Seungri's voice was firm.  Seunghyun gave up arguing, trying instead
to take in every detail of his face, to commit this new Seungri to memory. He
marveled at how the maknae's world had swelled so far beyond their myopic idol
beginnings, beyond what Seunghyun or the rest of them had ever imagined.
Sometimes it frightened Seunghyun, made him feel cautious, not of Seungri but
on his behalf.  How many times had Seunghyun met one of Seungri's “friends” at
a show, or watched him leave a Bigbang meeting immediately for undisclosed
business of his own? That was a significant part Seungri's life now, separate
and private from the rest of them. For all Seunghyun knew, this might be the
last time they saw each other until the next group event.

How many numbers are in his phone?  Maybe Jiyongie was warning youabout him,
notfor him.

Seungri got out of the car, then leaned down to aim that damnable smile his way
for the millionth time.  Seunghyun's heart beat faster, the pulse of blood in
his ears drowning out the mercurial voices of jealousy and suspicion.

“Let me know when you get home safe, hyung.”

“I will.”
***** Delivery service *****
Chapter Notes
     I hinted at the "lost phone incident" back in Chapter 2, but never
     directly addressed it in the fic -- so in case you're wondering what
     on earth I'm talking about, GD & YB told this_story on Radio Star.
Today didn't feel like a special day to be held in higher esteem than the
others. It was just another day closer to being gone. Every morning Seunghyun
had the same realization, and the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach got
worse. Why had he waited so long?

Questions like that were useless, but he couldn't help dwelling.  He talked to
Jiyong about managing negative emotions while he was away.  “Call me anytime,
whenever you get the chance,” Jiyong urged, then held him until Seunghyun had
to step back or start crying, and fuck was he ever getting sick of crying.  He
almost wished for a return to his womanizing, blackout drunk ways.  Simpler
times. He also assured Jiyong that his relationship with Seungri was casual –
oh, and he definitely used Seungri's massage excuse to reply to Yang's
questioning text about their selcas, hinting at a film opportunity in the works
but suggesting that he speak to Seungri about it. Jiyong had let it go without
grilling him, though he seemed to text or call Seunghyun more often than ever
these days.

There were also messages from Seungri, though not so numerous as Jiyong's, nor
as heartfelt or friendly as Youngbae's or Daesung's.  But they were
supplemented by deliveries. The first came a few days after his return from
Hong Kong, in a white box stamped with the name of the Lee family's cafe. There
was a note written in the pretty script he recognized as Seungri's mother's.

From V.I. to T.O.P: Our top seller!

And under that, the characters smaller, more rushed in appearance: You are
supposed to be Big Seunghyun. Eat this & stop my son worrying over you.  

Typical Korean mom. Didn't matter if you gained or lost weight; either way you
got bitched at.  After the waffle came chocolate ice cream. This time the note
suggested that he 'post something on Instagram besides wine and truffles.'
Seunghyun did. Then there was fresh red bean daifuku accompanied by a packet of
assorted Japanese candies, and more, box after box, all seductively sweet.

To his credit, he'd tried at least a bite of everything.  It wasn't that he
deliberately avoided food. The enlistment anxiety sank its claws in deeper each
day, making him forget to eat, or unable to finish what he started.

Seunghyun's other appetites remained underfed.  There just hadn't been time.
Fans called Seungri “ninja” for his ability to pop up at a Bigbang event and
disappear without being seen.  Seunghyun didn't call him anything, resolving to
bury his desire under a mountainous stack of canvases.  Art was his most
reliable escape, his most enduring solace.  The curation experience had been
more exhausting than he'd ever anticipated, but he was proud of what he had
accomplished and looked forward to future opportunities.

Today was his birthday, and there was another package, arriving just after he'd
finished his first cigarette. This one required a signature of receipt.

Seunghyun frowned as he closed the front door, hefting the box in his hands. 
It was tightly wrapped and somewhat heavy for its size.  After a mighty
struggle with layers of paper and packing tape, he was holding the box for a
digital camcorder. There was a small envelope stuck to the front, demanding to
be opened first. Seunghyun pulled out the blank card, surprised to see that the
message inside was written in Seungri's own hand.

Happy birthday to my favorite strange artist.  Password is your year + my year.

Under that Seungri had drawn a series of button presses for Seunghyun to
follow, with a smiling face at the end. Seunghyun's frown deepened until he got
the camera out of its packaging and powered it on. The display screen's prompt
for a four digit code explained that part of Seungri's message.  Seunghyun
sighed, adding the numbers in his head.

3-9-7-7.

Then he followed the button instructions, feeling more than a little silly. 
Seungri really did not trust him with technology at all.  He guessed he earned
his reputation after the lost phone incident. Seunghyun hit the last button, a
box with a play arrow inside. For a few moments he saw nothing, his eyes
flicking back to the smiley in exasperation.  Had he missed a step?

[Hyung!]

He fumbled the camera as the familiar greeting piped out of the small speaker
next to the screen.  His hearing grew more acute as more words followed, though
the screen was still black.  Seungri was using his 'adorable maknae' voice.

[I hope you don't mind that I opened the camera before I gave it to you.  I
wanted to make sure it worked.  And then I thought, I should leave my hyung a
personal birthday message. He deserves it. He's been working so hard lately.
The shows, the album, the exhibition...]

Seungri, get to the fucking point.  They'd all been working their asses off.
Staring at nothing while listening to that breathy, bratty voice was driving
him nuts.

[...if you like this message, please call or text to leave a review. And if you
don't like it, lie.]  Punctuated by Seungri's laughing-at-his-own-joke giggle.
 

There was a muffled rustling noise as light filled the frame.  Then, fuzzy but
unmistakable, Seungri's stomach.

[I did a test run.  I think this should be in focus when I step back.  Do you
want to see me better?]

Seunghyun's eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he moved the screen closer to
his face without realizing.  Now it revealed almost all of Seungri's torso. 
His hand drifted from somewhere above, slowly and lightly dragging over pale
skin and the soft hair under his navel, twisting down out of frame.  So it was
going to be a tease kind of thing?  Seunghyun smirked. So much for Seungri
avoiding exposure on camera.

Suddenly it was just his face, too close, bangs flopping over one eye, and his
classic toothy smile.

[You like?]

Aish, you sound too dumb.  By now Seunghyun's smirk was a true grin.

Seungri's expression flickered from goofy to mischievous.  The eye Seunghyun
could see rolled toward the ceiling, considering.

[I wondered if you wanted to see me dance, hyung? I don't do it much anymore,
but you could still learn something.  Or maybe I could just talk to you, about
what I do when we're apart and I'm thinking of you.  I think of you a lot. 
It's too hard, actually.]

Now Seungri was pouting.  He straightened up again, his body filling the frame,
then took another step back. Seunghyun pressed his lips together.  He could see
the edge of more hair now, darker than what Seungri kept on his head.  His
fingers walked from the top of one hip down, out of frame, and then back up
again.  

[It's bad because I'll be anywhere, with anyone, doing anything.  Then I think
about your eyes. Then your lips. Your neck...and your chest...and by the time I
imagine anything else I'm already so hard, hyung.  It's embarrassing. But I
still keep thinking about you. I can't stop.]  

He was making good on the dancing and the talking, Seunghyun noted.  He'd
started to roll his hips in a slow S, his abs flexing minutely as he continued.

[I want you all the time. I want youright now. But I know you're probably
working, even on your birthday.  Getting ready for the next thing, the next
show. You must feel so much pressure. And we both work too much, don't you
agree? You have to take time for yourself, too.  Want me to show you how I play
with myself?]

Two more steps back. Seunghyun stared, rapt.  Seungri kept his thighs slightly
spread as he squeezed the base of his thick, lubed cock, making himself as
erect as possible; he waited until he was all engorged veins and flushed head,
then let go.  His erection bobbed in the air, perky and proud.  Seungri flexed
it once, twice, before running a teasing palm along the underside.  Then he
gripped himself firmly as he began to speak again, speeding up the movement of
his fist.

[Seunghyun...can you guess what I'm thinking about?  Do I think about fucking
you? Do I think about shoving my cock down your throat, or up your tight little
hole?  About holding you down and pounding you in half?  Yes, sometimes I think
about that.]

Seunghyun could hear Seungri breathing, unconsciously mirroring the quickened
pace through his own parted lips.  He wished he could see his face.

Seungri turned around, showing off his ass – it was ridiculous, really, a man
with an ass like that, and the worst part was that Seungri knew it.  He cupped
a cheek in each palm and squeezed, letting his fingers slide off and opening
himself up in the process. Just a flash. The lube from his fingers left shiny
streak marks.  Seunghyun's pants felt uncomfortably tight; one of his hands
crept down, applying unconscious counter pressure.

[But most of the time, hyung, I think about how hard I'm going to come on your
cock.]

Seunghyun laughed, the same small noise of shock he'd made when Seungri had
said he would fuck him, if—

[I need you to fuck me so badly, hyung.  I imagined it the first time I saw
you.]

“Shut the fuck up,” Seunghyun whispered. He could hardly stand to watch, but he
didn't know how to fast forward, and he couldn't look away either. Seungri
turned his head to speak toward the camera; Seunghyun could tell by the elegant
twist of his spine, the muscles in his back flexing.

[You probably didn't think much of me, right?  Just some average, awkward
southerner.  But I knew from the first minute, I could never forget you as long
as I live. And I remember how you were with Jiyong, how you would look at each
other. He was thinking the same things as me, hyung, only he got to DO them. 
Of course he did...Jiyong gets whatever he wants. You were sofuckinghot,
Seunghyun. You drove me so crazy.  I thought I could never have you. I would
listen to you fuck him and then he would get in my bed.  Did you know he
smelled like you?  Do you know what he would do? His breath smelled like your
cum and he'd snuggle his face into my neck and I fuckinghatedhim.]

He kept spreading his ass, his hands slipping farther and lingering longer
between his cheeks each time.  Seunghyun groaned softly when he finally saw one
finger begin to act with purpose.  

[But then he started doing me, didn't he?  How could I say no to him?  No one
can. He taught me everything he knew.  I wonder which parts of it he learned
fromyou, hyung.]

Seungri pushed his index finger in, then quickly added the middle, with no
hesitation whatsoever. Seunghyun watched him press deep, twisting expertly to
find where it felt best.

[Ahh, hyung.] Seungri sighed, holding himself open with his other hand. Making
sure Seunghyun had an unobstructed view.[How could you tease me for so long? I
was never sure if you were serious.]

Fuck you. You were with Jiyong when you weren't chasing some giggling pair of
tits.

Seunghyun thought his interest had been too obvious at times. He'd dialed it
back, trying to respect boundaries.  Or something.  He had trouble keeping his
thoughts straight because Seungri was taking the last few steps back. 
Seunghyun could see his upper chest, flushed with arousal, then his jaw.
Seungri sat down into the overstuffed leather armchair behind him, and his
face—Seunghyun bit his lip at Seungri's expression, one he'd seen many times
before by now.  That half-lidded sex drunk stupor.

Seungri poised his fingers at his entrance again. Then a thought seemed to
occur to him and he draped one leg over the arm of the chair, swinging his foot
back and forth a couple times before thrusting roughly into himself in with
three fingers.   Seunghyun pulled his hand off his crotch just in time,
hissing.  He didn't remember putting it there.  

Shit, I need to pause or–

[After we fucked I thought, okay.  I paid you back.  But you liked it so much I
figured I had to keep doing it. And I guess I got kind of addicted to your
ass.]  His smile was slightly pained and absolutely wicked.[You've been so
good, so patient with me. I'm too selfish, hyung.]

Seungri pulled his slick fingers out, turning them back and forth to catch the
light.  Seunghyun really wasn't sure where to look first.  

[I've been trying to make sure I'm ready. I got myself a...um, they call it a
training set.  It took me awhile to get the biggest one in, but I think I can
handle you now.]

He reached behind him into the seat cushion, and brought out a clear, tapered
object. Seunghyun clapped one hand over his mouth.  No way was he that big.  No
way was he about to watch Seungri fuck himself with that?

Seungri had a bottle of lube hidden in the chair as well; he was just full of
surprises. He smeared a good bit on the toy, then applied some more to his
fingers, slipping them in and out of himself until he seemed satisfied.  He
moved his right hand up to his cock, starting to stroke again, biting his lip
as he pressed the end of the plug against himself.  His eyelids fluttered and
he moaned, just one word, as the plug started to slide in.  

Seunghyun moaned back in response to his name before he bit down on the meat of
his palm.  He might just come in his pants no matter what, like he used to ten
or fifteen years ago.

Shit, Seungri. You fucking show-off.

He had the plug all the way inside quicker than Seunghyun expected. He must not
be lying about the practice, but then Seungri was always diligent about
tackling a challenge.  He pulled the toy all the way out and reinserted it
several times, looking down to watch himself stretch, meditative and unhurried.

[Will you fuck me slow like this, Seunghyun?  Will you make me beg like I made
you beg?]

If Seungri suddenly appeared in the room with him right now, Seunghyun's
strongest instinct would be to bite him as hard as he could.  He laughed
against his palm, then dropped it.  He needed more air.

Seungri let off stroking his cock to grip the base of the plug with both hands.
 

[Let me show you how I want it.]  He looked directly into the camera, chin
tilted down.  Seunghyun thought he might have an aneurysm if Seungri kept that
expression much longer. Luckily his eyes couldn't stay open once he started
fucking himself in earnest.  He furrowed his brow, the muscles in his arms and
core and thighs contracting with the effort. He stiffened as his excitement
grew, back arching with every stroke, his neglected cock leaking a slick trail
of fluid.  The best indicator of his extreme arousal was his sudden lack of
speech.  In the relative quiet Seunghyun could focus on the beautiful image
Seungri made, on his more subtle pants and whimpers and sighs.  But it was over
far too soon.  

[Seunghyun...ohh fuck, yes.  Yes, yes–] Seungri fucked himself with just one
hand now, the other gripping the arm of the chair for support as he went rigid
with pleasure.[Make me come, Seunghyun, make me—yes, yes, I'm coming for you–oh
my GOD!]  Seunghyun watched his toes curl, his own curling with sympathy
against the rug under his feet. Seungri's hips jerked at the same time as his
cock; he released his first spurt of cum with a yell, sounding almost outraged
to Seunghyun.  The jet of fluid arching up and over Seungri's chest was
fantastically impressive, considering he wasn't even touching his cock. Then he
couldn't help himself; he gave up on the plug, jerking himself through the rest
of the orgasm with erratic strokes of his hand and sobbing pants.

He was making such a fucking mess. There was come on his eyebrow.

You got it on the chair, too.  

Finally Seungri stopped writhing, turning into a soft, slumped, sweaty pile of
giggling, lovable idiot.  Seunghyun let out the breath he'd been holding as he
watched Seungri take the toy out, his expression slightly comestruck with
overstimulation.  He let the plug fall to one side, then carelessly swiped a
palm over his face. He stood and strode toward the camera, blissfully bare
except for what he'd painted himself in, getting so close it was just his big
smile in the frame.  Then, the ultimate surprise:  the smile dying a little,
pink tongue wetting his lips before he mouthed a message. Happy birthday, I
love you.

Then the screen was black again, with an option to replay.  Seunghyun didn't
hate himself enough to watch it again so soon. He set the camera down on the
kitchen counter with utmost care, then visited the fridge for a cold drink.  

When he felt like his brain could produce some semblance of coherent thought
pattern, he called Seungri. Nervous butterflies swooped as Seunghyun waited for
him to pick up.  Maybe he wouldn't, maybe he was on a flight or in another
timezone. Seunghyun had given up keeping track of Seungri's schedule, the pabo
was always so busy, just like Seungri said, they worked too much—

“Hyung!”  Bright, cheerful.  “Happy birthday, hyung!”  His in-public voice. 
Seunghyun could hear lots of chatter in the background.  He cleared his throat,
trying to find his own voice.

“I got your present.”  There was silence for a few beats. “Hello?”

“Aish,” Seungri muttered, furtive.  Seunghyun realized the background noise was
fading.  “I told them evening delivery.  Evening. Hyung? You still there?”

“I am.”

“Well.  Did you like it?”  Seungri asked, innocent and cheeky.

“Seungri, I'm supposed to go out to lunch with my mother in half an hour.”

“That's all right, you can watch it later!”

“I already watched it,” Seunghyun said.

“Oh.”  Seungri's voice changed immediately to a soft tease, with that breathy
effect that made Seunghyun want to climb walls, or dicks, or anything that
would get him off.  “So you liked it.”

“I don't know what to say.  I don't know what to do.”

“I can suggest an obvious solution, but you're a pretty smart guy—”

“No. I want you.”

“I'm in a meeting,” Seungri said, not even trying to hide his self-
satisfaction. “I just stepped out to take your call.”

“Are you in Seoul?”  Seunghyun asked.  Please be in Seoul.

“Yes.”

“When?”  Seunghyun knew he should hate being so desperate,  or be ashamed at
how he couldn't hide the way Seungri made him feel. But there was a maybe not-
so-insignificant part of him that loved it.  Growing each time he was with
Seungri, just the two of them.

“Will you be free by eleven, or is that too early?” Seungri asked.

“Eleven?!” Seunghyun gasped.

“I thought you would go out drinking with your friends tonight.”

Seungri was right. They weren't “friends,” so Seunghyun hadn't figured him into
his plans until he got the package. Seunghyun melted, then burned.

“You little shit, you know exactly what you're doing. You didn't schedule
evening delivery.”

“I did!” Seungri insisted.

“I'm coming over at eight and if you're not there–”

“I'll be home, we're wrapping up in a few hours here.”   He was back to being
smug.  “I'll even have time to take a nap first.”

※ ※ ※

Seunghyun's celebratory meals with family and friends passed in a blur.  His
mother and Kyungil both sensed that something was up when even wine held little
appeal for him.  He was beyond impatient with food and left favorite dishes
nearly untouched. Inspiration struck when he decided to use the lack of
appetite as part of his lie. The story was bad fish at lunch, a slight ache in
the stomach, he would skip the bar crawl this year and just go home to relax.
He waved off Kyungil's offer to come stay the night.

“I would rather be alone,” Seunghyun said, knowing he should feel like a
duplicitous piece of shit, but all he could think about was that fucking
scream, and all the cum–

“I'll call you if I need anything,” Seunghyun assured him. Kyungil gave him a
hug; Seunghyun kept their hips well apart lest his true reason for leaving
reveal itself.

※ ※ ※
The address Seungri gave to Seunghyun was for a condo Seunghyun hadn't visited
before.  Dealing in real estate was one of Seungri's favorite pastimes; he said
it was just a hobby, but then he would casually point to an entire office block
and call it his. Seunghyun found it unspeakably tedious, but he had to admit
this building was perfect for private meetings. It was luxurious but
nondescript and located on a quiet side street.  Seungri had buzzed him through
the garage and elevator, and now it was just a thick wooden door between them.

Seunghyun pressed the button for what he assumed was a doorbell or intercom. 
No response.

What the fuck. You know I'm here.  

He pulled his phone out of his jacket, texting with cold fingers.

> It's me.

Seungri's reply pissed him off and made him smile.

> Did you even try the door

It was unlocked.  Seunghyun slid the bolt behind him before he turned around.
The darkness in the apartment was almost complete, except for one lamp on a
side table next to him.  He slid his shoes off, shaking his head.  Then he
pulled out his phone again.  

> Did you want to play hide and seek?

> I'm not hiding. There's only 1 bedroom

Seunghyun flipped the phone around to use the screen for light.  The glow
revealed a Japanese-style living room with a tatami floor, low tables, and
cushions. Seunghyun stopped and stared when he saw it – the only piece of art
on the wall. It was too dim to make out the subtle textures, but the throb of
red at the center of the canvas was unmistakable.

So this is what you did with it.

He felt a fierce little jolt of satisfaction, remembering the note he'd slipped
in with the shipment – DO NOT TOUCH – then moved on, passing by a sleek
kitchenette. There was a short hallway with three closed doors.  The two on the
sides would be bathroom and closet, and behind door number 3...?

Seunghyun grasped the knob and turned. He was shocked at first by the
impression that there was no wall, until he realized it was an enormous pane of
glass. The moon was a white fingernail in the sky.   A soft noise to his left
made him turn his head.  

Seungri was laying on the low bed, flicking his thumbs lazily over his nipples,
his legs spread wide enough to show everything in the faint glow from outside.

“Seunghyun,”  he sighed, arching his back away from the bed with a soft
whimper.  “Please...I've been waiting all day.”

This was what Seunghyun had imagined. For years.  What he had thought he would
have months ago, that night in Tokyo.  

Seunghyun knew Seungri was still completely in control.  But it was okay;
Seunghyun liked it that way.  No, he loved it.  He stalked toward him across
the shadows of the room.  Time to open his present.  
***** Not real *****
Chapter Notes
     Aka Not Really the End?
     TL;DR: I consider Chapter 6 - “Delivery service” the actual ending of
     this fic; this last bit is mostly a leak of raw brain matter. Turn
     back now, here be dragons, etc.
     I wrote “Delivery service” first, but always knew it would be the
     end. It's got a hopeful tinge to it, I think, and I know people like
     happy endings...I've certainly gotten that type of comment before.
     Don't you want your OTP to be happy?! Why won't you let them be
     happy?! It makes sense, but I wrote most of this fic in the last half
     of 2016... If it's kinda nuts, that is partly to blame. I wasn't in
     the right headspace to put on my happy face.
     The title of this section is meta in a couple of ways. First, it's
     what people tend to say about the topri ship, so I wanted to tongue-
     in-cheek reference that. (Of course, topri is “real” in any way that
     any of the ships are real, but you know what I mean you pervs.)
     Second, I'm gonna pull a Stephen King Dark Tower epilogue move and
     warn you that you probably won't dig this unless you're into
     excessive angst and more loose ends. If you're not into that, you can
     pretend this doesn't exist and I won't even be mad. ;)
     There is a mention of death as part of a dream sequence, though it's
     more figurative than literal.
It was going to be a bad night.  It shouldn't be. Nothing was really wrong.
Yes, today he'd finally tossed his song with Choice into the “maybe later/
probably never” vault, but otherwise Seunghyun had no reason to be disappointed
in himself. He'd been able to keep a positive mindset in spite of his packed
schedule and the constant need to be “on.”  But his mood still set with the
sun, and by the time the lights started twinkling on the other side of the
river he was staring into the mouth of an empty bottle.  He felt cold, anxious,
afraid.

Don't forget weak, puling, pathetic, loser...

He was fumbling with the third cork of the night when he admitted to himself
that he shouldn't be alone. Kyungil was already gone.  Most of the time
Seunghyun didn't think about his own departure, or if he did consciously
address it, it was just as an upcoming travel date on his calendar.  A place he
had to go, a thing he had to do.  But he kept having these dreams.

He was was always on a footpath, alone, until he heard a voice behind him.
Sometimes it was a simple greeting and sometimes it asked him to wait.
Sometimes it was his mother or sister. Three times it had been colleagues from
various work projects. Most often it was Jiyong, or Daesung, or Youngbae. As
soon as Seunghyun turned to acknowledge the speaker death fell from above,
crushing the air from his lungs and filling his mouth with a rusted, bloody
taste.  Last night the dream had been different. For the first time the voice
was Seungri's, and the hit didn't land right away.  Instead, Seunghyun glanced
down and saw a small yellow flower pushing through a crack in the cement. He
will forgive me, Seunghyun thought as his fingers grasped the stem.  Seunghyun
heard Seungri gasp and felt a tug on his hand, but it was too late. The stem
snapped, and down came the awful weight.  Seunghyun woke up the same as always,
coughing, choking, running with cold sweat.  He couldn't get back to sleep.

He picked up his phone, seeing Youngbae's gentle smile in his mind.  He lived
nearby, he was kind, he wouldn't judge...well, he wouldn't openly judge. His
presence was comforting, benign; Seunghyun knew Youngbae had his own shit to
deal with, but he never laid it on him. Usually he would come over and just
ramble about whatever, normal stuff that was happening in his life, mundane
thoughts, stupid jokes. Maybe he'd even cook something for the two of them, but
mostly he would talk until Seunghyun started nodding off to his voice. Bedtime
stories.  Then he'd make sure Seunghyun was settled down for the night before
he left. Seunghyun furrowed his brow.  He knew where Youngbae was tonight; some
anniversary with Hyorin. Youngbae pretended like it wasn't a big deal, but
there was no mistaking the glow in his eyes.

Daesung? Daesung knew what the lowest lows felt like. He would drop everything
if Seunghyun asked him to, but he had mentioned visiting his family.  His
father was in poor health, and Daesung was making a concerted effort to close
any distance that might remain between them.

Fuck.

Jiyong might be technically available, but Jiyong was exhausted and already
worried sick over him. He would pretend to cope with Seunghyun's misery and
then go home and wallow in it himself.  Seunghyun couldn't forgive that, hated
himself already for taking too much from Jiyong. What did he repay him with? 
More heaviness. The crush.

Seunghyun knew that he needed a diversion away from the downward spiral. He had
no right to lay his burdens at anyone's feet, but there was one person who
might simply help him forget for a little while, if he asked the right way.

“Hyung?”  Seungri's voice sounded distracted, fuzzy.  Seunghyun heard a beep,
then a responding horn.

“Are you driving?” Seunghyun asked.

“Yes.”  Then Seungri chuckled. “Actually, no. This traffic is unreal.”

Seunghyun considered telling him he should just use the YG drivers, but he knew
Seungri would take it the wrong way.  Thanks, Dad, he'd say.  So Seunghyun just
asked, “Going home?”

“Eventually,” Seungri said.

“Come here instead.” Aish.  He hadn't meant to sound so demanding. “If you have
time, I mean.”

There was a pause.

“You okay?” Seungri asked.

“I want to see you.” Fuck it.

Another pause.  

“My phone says it'll take half an hour. Okay?”  

“Yeah. Okay,” Seunghyun said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Seunghyun went directly to the shower, hoping to wash away some of his shut-in
aesthetic, but once he was out he couldn't bring himself to put on anything
other than an old hoodie and track pants.  Whatever, they were clean.  He
turned on some music and was back on the couch by the time Seungri was at the
door.  

Seunghyun let him in, smelling cologne and cigarettes. He was hovering, he knew
he was hovering, but he couldn't help it. Seungri sighed as he stooped to undo
his laces, then glanced up.  

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you.”  Seunghyun's smile wavered into a little pout.  “You were out
already tonight?”  With her?

“Already? It's past midnight, hyung. I had to check on something at the club.”

“Oh.”

Seungri stood back up to his full height, all five o'clock shadow and broad
shoulders in his leather jacket, and his eyes were tired, maybe even a little
sullen. Seunghyun knew he would rather be someplace where the bass thumped so
loud he couldn't hear himself think. Seunghyun bent down to him anyway. Seungri
accepted the soft lips brushing over his own, but didn't move to deepen the
kiss. When he saw the soft, sweet lines of Seungri's face gone hard and dull
with mere tolerance, he felt something in him tear.

Seunghyun took him by the hand and led him into the living room. When Seungri
just stood there like a fucking post, Seunghyun squeezed his fingers a little
harder than necessary.

“I don't know why you have to lie about holding hands. We hold hands!”

“What are you talking about?” Seungri grimaced and pulled his hand out of
Seunghyun's grip. He collapsed heavily onto the couch as he rubbed at his
eyes.  Then he looked straight ahead while he spoke, but not at Seunghyun. 
“Jesus. Is this about something I said at an event? We talked about this
already. We agreed not to—”

“I know.” Seunghyun retrieved the third bottle of wine from the dining table.

Seungri watched as Seunghyun poured, then accepted a glass, taking a small sip
as he looked blankly out of the dark windows.  The silence stretched until
impatience made Seungri bounce a leg up and down.  “Okay, so, you called me
over here to bitch at me about work?  About fanservice?”

“No. I just didn't want to be alone.” Seunghyun had learned that honesty was
the best policy when Seungri was in a mood like this.  It wasn't that Seungri
was looking for a fight, exactly.  It was more like Seunghyun was failing a
test he hadn't known to study for.

Seungri set his glass on the coffee table before sprawling back, legs spread
wide and arms resting along the top cushion.

“You called me last, didn't you?” he said, looking up at Seunghyun with sharp
eyes.

“Yeah, and you came,” Seunghyun lied, wanting to hit back.  He was stung at the
rejection of his confession, but there was shame, too.  He didn't call Seungri
last, but he was the last resort.  Seunghyun had his reasons, his frustrations.
Seungri laughed, short and dry, while his eyes wandered over Seunghyun.

“So. You want a hug?  Or am I supposed to fuck you all better?”

“Whatever you prefer,” Seunghyun shrugged, his own gaze landing and focusing on
Seungri's ankles.  They were thin, delicate, at odds with the rest of him. 
Seunghyun tried to remember if he'd ever wrapped his hands around them. Seungri
broke his reverie with a cool demand.

“Why is it always up to me, Seunghyun?”

“Because you're the control freak,”  Seunghyun said, clenching his jaw against
the memories of his birthday night. And it had been all night, Seunghyun taking
Seungri in every possible position he could manage to contort him into, making
him come, hard and soft and hard again, over and over until the tears squeezed
out of his eyes it was so fucking good for him. Better still were the goodbye
kisses in the gray morning, the simple words they said with voices gone low and
husky from overuse. Seunghyun still couldn't believe there had been such a
perfect moment waiting to happen between them. It seemed more and more like a
dream as time went on. Seungri had to go away on XYZ CEO Lee business, then
there was Bigbang, and he'd never invited Seunghyun back to the condo.

“The bullshit that comes out of your mouth,” Seungri said, shaking his head. 
“You're the most anal person I know!” Seunghyun tried to cover a smile by
sticking his nose into his glass.  Seungri huffed out an annoyed sigh.  “And
you're also twelve years old. You know that, right?”

“Mmm, I thought you liked them young. How old is she?  Twenty yet?”  Seunghyun
said, giving Seungri his best glare.  

“Twenty-two,” Seungri sulked, his fingers picking at the fabric of the couch.

“That's nice,” Seunghyun said lightly. “It's nice to see you settle on one for
awhile.”

Seungri slapped both of his hands down on his thighs.  Seunghyun flinched.

“Get your camera, Seunghyun,” he said.  “Let's take a selca. You want to?”

“Excuse me?” Seunghyun said, raising his eyebrows. “I thought we agreed—”

“Of course we won't post it. This one's just for us.”

“It's in my room,” Seunghyun said, setting his glass next to Seungri's on the
coffee table. “Do you want to go there?”

“No. Just bring it out here.”

“Control freak,” Seunghyun said as he headed out of the living room.

“And leave your clothes in there while you're at it!” Seungri yelled.

Seunghyun returned to the living room clutching the camera against his chest,
bare skin prickling with goosebumps as he watched Seungri empty his pockets
onto the coffee table:  wallet, phone, keys.  He removed his jacket as well
before pausing to take Seunghyun in, head to toe.

“Still blows my mind every time I see you like this,” he said, a small muscle
working at the edge of his jaw.

“It's an exclusive deal,” Seunghyun said, putting playful drama into his voice,
but the slight hunch in his shoulders told the true story.  Seungri smirked.

“Take a seat, Seunghyun.”

“Don't you want this?” Seunghyun said, holding the camera out to him.  Seungri
shook his head.

“No. You're the cameraman.”  He patted the cushion in front of him, speaking
with the now-familiar tone of cool authority. “Sit. Down.”

Seunghyun's skin crawled when he felt the fabric of the couch against his back
and under his thighs, but that particular neurosis was set aside when Seungri
knelt between his legs. He spread them wide with a shove against each knee,
then paused for a thorough visual examination.  Seunghyun held his breath,
expecting more rough handling. He ended up laughing out loud when Seungri
tickled one hand over the top of his foot instead.

“What the hell?” Seunghyun's giggles died as Seungri continued up his calf,
while the fingers of his other hand combed idly through the straight black hair
between Seunghyun's legs.

“Did you ever consider going pink here, too?” Seungri asked, eyes bright with
mischief.

“Uh, no,” Seunghyun laughed. “Why, did you bleach yours before?”

“You know I didn't,” Seungri said, and by now his hand had reached Seunghyun's
mid-thigh, giving it a pinching squeeze. “Turn the camera on.”

Seunghyun was familiar with the device from his repeat viewings of a certain
video, though he hadn't added any of his own footage to the SD card. The camera
auto-focused as he lifted it, his eyes switching between the screen and
Seungri.  Seungri leaned forward, undeterred by Seunghyun's flaccidity as he
began to nuzzle and lick at him with just the very tip of his tongue.

Seunghyun cleared his throat and shifted in his spot, prompting Seungri to take
a firm hold of his hips.  His mouth grew bolder as well, his curling tongue
forcing a response from Seunghyun's camera shy body.  Seunghyun let the shot
angle drift a bit as he looked past the screen. He reached toward Seungri's
face, only to have his hand smacked aside.  Seungri started to laugh around
him, sitting back a few seconds later.

“Ah, that's what really gets you up tonight, huh?” He gripped Seunghyun at the
base of his cock, squeezing and massaging until a small bead of precum formed
at the tip.  He lapped at it with a quick, kittenish tongue before directing a
beaming smile at the lens.  “How can you taste so good,  with all that shit
you're always smoking or drinking or eating?”

“It's not shit,” Seunghyun muttered, feeling his ears warm. He was used to
Seungri's compliments by now, some backhanded and some aggressively sincere,
but filming himself was still taking him out of the moment. He felt his
erection start to wilt, until Seungri sucked hard, taking him in deep. When
Seungri went all the way down Seunghyun gasped, hips lifting away from the
couch with surprise.  It wasn't that it felt particularly better than what
Seungri had been doing before; Seunghyun just hadn't realized it was an option.
Seungri's hands returned to his hips again, pressing him firmly into the
cushion.

“Seunghyun, don't forget the camera,” Seungri chided, after he had worked his
languid way up and off. “Want me to do it again?”

Seunghyun nodded, his throat clicking on a dry swallow as he adjusted his grip
on the device, using both hands to keep it steady.  Seungri's own swallow was
slick and sultry, engulfing Seunghyun entirely. Seunghyun lost his
concentration again when Seungri released one hip to press clever fingers into
the short, shy space between his balls and ass.  

“Fuck,” he muttered, fighting off an urge to thrust. He let the exquisite
sensation pulse through his thighs instead, the muscles shaking with
restraint.  Seungri pulled off him when Seunghyun started emptying his lungs
with long, explosive sighs, their erratic pattern betraying how close he was.
Seungri treated him to a few last sinuous, torturous licks, until he was clean
and glistening from base to tip.  

“All right, hand it over,” Seungri said, his voice gone raspy from his efforts.
Seunghyun let him take the camera with no resistance, his empty palms hovering
forgotten in the air.  “I bet this is so shaky you can hardly watch it.  But
whatever, it's your turn. I can't be the only one with my face on film.”  
Seungri stood to get a better angle, panning over Seunghyun's body with a
satisfied smile. “Okay, you're super hot, but this is kind of boring.  Show me
how you get ready for me.”   

Seunghyun realized that a deliberate omission he'd made had also caused him to
forget lube, but he knew that if he left the room to rummage around in his
bedside drawer, he'd probably never get his nerve up to get in front of the
camera again.

For you, Seungri.  Seunghyun raised one hand to his mouth, blushing again when
he realized his mouth was too dry.

“Can I have a drink first?” he asked.

“Of course, the classiest films always have a wine scene,” Seungri said,
twisting behind him to get a glass.  He held it to Seunghyun's lips for a few
sips, then set it aside. “Okay. Go on.” 

Seunghyun sucked two fingers in his mouth, then reached down, closing his eyes
as he worked on getting them inside.  Seungri was silent the entire time
Seunghyun touched himself, though Seunghyun heard the muted mechanical whir of
the camera's zoom.  He broke the silence with a hiss as he added a third
finger.  It was too dry, it burned, but he wanted Seungri to see.

When he opened his eyes to gauge Seungri's reaction, he was surprised to see
the camera directed at his face.  

“Fucking beautiful,” Seungri muttered, fumbling with a blind hand to unbuckle
his belt. “Wait.”  He set the camera down on the cushion next to Seunghyun's
leg.  Seunghyun stopped, fingers still inside, watching Seungri open his fly in
record time. Then he paused, looking behind him at the coffee table and then
feeling all around Seunghyun.  “Shit, I don't have one on me.  Didn't you bring
out a condom?”  

Seunghyun stared at him before his eyes traveled lower, considering what
awaited him.  He thought of the first time, of how it hurt, and all the
subsequent times, craving the catharsis.  He pulled his fingers out and turned
over, wanting to press back into Seungri, but wanting just as badly to play the
part.

I'm not good, but I can act like it.

“I want it like this,” Seunghyun said, quiet and matter-of-fact.  Seungri
grabbed the camera, training it back on Seunghyun's face.  

“You sure?  You're going on the record?”

“I'm clean.”

“Me too. Wanna see the paperwork?” Seungri said, trying to play it off as a
joke, but Seunghyun could hear the slight tremble in his words. He felt a
fierce little spark light up deep in his core.

“Maybe later.  Do you ever do this with anyone else?” he asked.

“Just—just Jiyong,” Seungri said, near to stuttering. “But it was years ago and
I've been tested since then.”

“I trust you,” Seunghyun said, a small, sad smile flickering over his face.Of
course, Ji.  “Same here.” When Seungri nodded he turned to face the back of the
couch.

Seunghyun heard muted wet noises as Seungri gathered what moisture he could
before rubbing the head of his cock against Seunghyun, seeming contemplative in
his movements. Seunghyun realized Seungri must be filming when he heard the
zoom move again.  Seungri's damp palm cupped one of Seunghyun's cheeks for a
few seconds before sliding back up to grip his hip, whispering something to
himself that Seunghyun couldn't make out. Seunghyun groaned at the sudden
thrust, overwhelmed as always at the initial realization of how much there was
to take in.

“Mm, yeah, you've been way too quiet,” Seungri said, rocking back and forth
with small movements. He gasped as he slid in deeper, his fingers twitching and
then scratching at Seunghyun's skin.

Seunghyun obliged him by making more noise, though it was hardly voluntary by
the time they were a few minutes into the fuck. Seungri responded to him by
quickening the pace and force, until Seunghyun was in that weird cock-drunk
place he'd learned to wander into rather easily these days.  He could hear
Seungri talking, the usual filthy encouragements he loved to punctuate his
movements with, but he didn't pay particular attention until there was a hand
in his hair, yanking his head up from the couch cushion.  

“Look at me,” Seungri demanded.  He still had the camera on him, but Seunghyun
was practiced at ignoring cameras if he was the subject.  He preferred to
follow instructions exactly, but it was difficult. Looking at Seungri always
got him too close, too fast.  “Ahh you should see your face, Seunghyun.  You
make the same one every time you start bitching about something.  Now I get to
think of fucking you raw the next time I see it.”  

“Seungri-ya—”  Seunghyun hoped the urgency of his words would get the idea
across.  

“You wanna come for me already, huh?” Seungri said, pulling tighter on
Seunghyun's hair.  Seunghyun barely managed a nod before Seungri dragged
himself out, his reluctant moan making Seunghyun shudder.

“Not yet, Seunghyun...” Seungri's hand released Seunghyun's hair to stroke
slowly down, ended up at the sweat-dampened hair at his nape.  He pushed the
head of his cock back in, almost tender, though he couldn't resist a sharp jerk
of his hips when Seunghyun ground back into him with an impatient growl.
Seunghyun swiveled his hips, wanting the pressure back deep inside him, ready
to lose control. “Fuck yes, just like that,” Seungri gasped, sounding
suspiciously close to his own peak.  He pulled out again; there was a soft
thump as the camera hit the couch next to Seunghyun, followed by one of
Seungri's palms coming down next to it.  He braced himself, breathing deeply as
he began a heady pattern – slip in with a quick, smooth stroke, grind against
Seunghyun until he had to take a break, back out, then start over. Meanwhile
Seungri's other hand touched wherever it had a mind to, fingers trailing over
the knobs of Seunghyun's spine at the back of his neck, then tweaking a nipple,
then reaching lower to pet his weeping cock, collecting the precum to help
slick the way for Seungri to keep fucking him. Seunghyun thought he would be
sore, but the lack of latex between them felt so fine, so silky, so
outrageously hot.  He hadn't asked before because he knew it would be like
this. Habit forming.

The length of Seungri's breaks grew shorter and shorter, until finally he slid
to a complete halt inside Seunghyun, lowering his weight on top of him and
encircling his arms around Seunghyun's waist. Seunghyun felt the soft material
of Seungri's shirt stick to the sweat on his back, shivered at the breath
ghosting over his neck.

“I can't take anymore,” Seungri whispered, hitching himself forward.  Seunghyun
turned his head to receive his first reciprocal kiss of the night, Seungri's
tongue moving out of sync with his cock, driving Seunghyun to utter distraction
at both ends. He came when Seungri moaned his name into his mouth, the wash of
sensation rushing over him not nearly as sweet as the arms tightening around
him. The crying began as his orgasm faded, and this time Seunghyun didn't fight
it.  Seungri pulled his mouth away when he realized the shaking movements
underneath him were sobs. Seunghyun chased him, kissing the swollen lips gently
to reassure him.  

“It was so good. It was just so good—”

“No!”  Seungri's whisper was fierce.  He backed out of Seunghyun, pulling him
into his lap, the arms still around his waist squeezing until Seunghyun thought
his ribs would crack.  “Please, don't! I told you, Ican't!” Seunghyun fought
for control, but lost it entirely when he heard the first ragged cry rip out of
Seungri.

Seunghyun struggled out of his grasp, turning to face him. They held each other
as they wept, Seungri making horrible, braying sounds of anguish and Seunghyun
trying to absorb each one as penance.   Everyone was used to Seunghyun's
volatile emotions, but he hadn't seen Seungri like this in years.  Maybe not
since Jiyong and the “cigarette.” If anyone had ever questioned Seungri's love
for the hyungs, Seunghyun could point to the depth of the maknae's pain as an
answer. Seunghyun knew his drunken apologies were woefully inadequate. 

“Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun said, after the worst of it passed. He wiped the tears
from Seungri's face before he kissed him again.  Seungri just took it, his
crumpled expression making Seunghyun want to collapse under the weight of his
guilt.

“Aren't you having a hard enough time without this?  Isn't it too much?”
Seungri said, his words hoarse and limp.

“You are not my burden,” Seunghyun said, cradling Seungri's damp face in his
hands, then resting his own face against it.

“Why do you want this?”

“Why did you break up with Jiyong?”

Seungri jerked his head back, wincing as the edge of the coffee table bit into
his back. His eyes went stormy, two final fat, angry tears tracing hot tracks
down his cheeks.

“Because it wasn't real!” he cried, standing up.  He went on, his voice
cracking under the strain. “To him I was just—fuck to both of you I'm just—” 
He broke off with a strangled groan before skewering Seunghyun with a wretched
grin, his lips trembling and twitching. “I'm not actually a viable option."

Seunghyun looked up at him and kept silent in case there was more. When several
seconds passed he chanced another question.

“What's real mean to you?”

Seungri huffed out a bitter laugh, waving Seunghyun away as he paced toward the
dining room. Seunghyun heard the angry whine of Seungri's pants zipper going up
before he pivoted back, his posture pulling more stiff and defensive with each
step.

“The entire time it was just a dream. He always wanted to be with other people,
too.  No, okay, the last time it wasn't 'people,' it was a person. Shit, she
was younger than me! And I knew he didn't just like her, okay. I know what I
saw. He fucking loved her.”

“He loved you, too,” Seunghyun said carefully, getting to his feet as well.
“And we date women, too.”

“Yeah, of course.  If you can't beat em, join em,” Seungri said, the acrid
smile souring his face again.  “Seunghyun, what does it matter?  You're already
gone.”

No. You're the one who's been away, Seungri.  Did I teach you how to be so
cold?

“I'm not going anywhere,” Seunghyun said.  

“That's a good one, Seunghyun, really,” Seungri said, shaking his head.  

“You're right, I'm a coward.  And I've been hiding for a very long time.”  
Seunghyun refused to look away, refused to avoid the pain on Seungri's face. 
Seungri-ya, you almost left before I had a chance to know you. And it would've
been fine, it would've been okay.  But Seunghyun didn't want to settle anymore.
“You've been trying to push me away, right?”

“You want me to be alone for years,” Seungri said, crossing his arms tight
across his chest.  “I can't.”

“No. I'm not asking you to do that,” Seunghyun went to Seungri, heedless of the
cold sweat that made him shiver and the fluid making its gradual way down one
of his thighs. It was evidence of an intimacy Seunghyun desperately wanted to
affirm.

“Then what, Seunghyun? What do you want?”

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for needing you so much now.

“You. Just you.  Whatever you can give,” Seunghyun said.  He reached out,
rested his hand on one of Seungri's forearms.

“Maybe this is it, Seunghyun.  It's years. Years.”

“I know. I waited almost ten. I'm sorry.”

“Fuck you,” Seungri whispered. His tears were back, shimmering above his
already swollen lower lids.

Seunghyun slid his hand down to one of Seungri's, held his breath as he gently
pried it away from his body.  

“When you get out,” he murmured. “I'll be here.  If you want. If you ever need
me, too.”  

Seungri's tears overspilled and Seunghyun had to do something before his heart
cracked irreparably. So he smiled.

“I'm not getting married anytime soon, you know.”

“Ah god, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, looking up at the ceiling.  He let out a
gusty sigh when Seunghyun intertwined their fingers and gently tugged on him.

“Stay the night, okay? You are welcome here. Whatever you decide.”

Seungri allowed Seunghyun to lead him into the bathroom and undress him with
certain, reverent hands.  This time they opted for a shower, quick and
efficient...except for the kisses Seunghyun stole, goading Seungri into
claiming precious seconds of his own.

They didn't speak again until they were facing each other in bed, tucked in
safe darkness.

“You know I took a shower before you got here, too,” Seunghyun said. “I
preferred the last one. Showers are always better when you're in them.”  

Seungri acknowledged the reference with a little snort.

“Hilarious. Jerk.”  He paused, then cleared his throat.  Seunghyun braced
himself for a serious pronouncement, but Seungri asked the next question
lightly enough.  “Don't you want a family, Seunghyun? You're so good with
kids.”

Seunghyun made a noncommittal noise.  “I've been reading some articles
Daesungie sent me.  Whatever is wrong with me, I think it's hereditary.”

“Oh come on,” Seungri scoffed. “You shouldn't self-diagnose from the internet.”

“Haha, but you admit that I'm fucked up!” Seunghyun said, poking at his
stomach.

“I didn't say that.”

“You've never met my father.  But I know.  I'm worse than him.”

“No. No fucking way you are anything like him,” Seungri said, surprising
Seunghyun with his vehemence, but Seungri really couldn't know. Seunghyun might
be a total emotional disaster sometimes, but he had always played those cards
very close.

“Seungri-ya, it isn't so black and white.”  When Seungri didn't answer he felt
a little bad. He had to get better about talking down to him like that.  “Don't
you want kids?”

“Yeah, Seunghyun. I think I do.”

Seunghyun thought about the hanbok.

“Okay then. I'm a fantastic uncle. I'll be their favorite, wait and see.”

Another sigh from Seungri gnawed away at Seunghyun's soul. He groped for
Seungri's hand under the sheets and pulled it up to his lips. At first he
hurried, just in case Seungri took his hand away, but eventually his kisses
lingered, special attention paid to each finger. Seunghyun mouthed the words
against Seungri's palm, then moved it up to cover his own eyes. He peeked out
from under it to see Seungri's eyes crinkled up with a smile.

“I love you,” Seunghyun repeated.

Seungri turned his hand to grip Seunghyun's own, then squeezed the living hell
out of it.

“Then what are we?”

“Aish.  Why are you so concerned with labels,” Seunghyun complained.  Another
squeeze.  “Okay, okay.”  He thought for a moment.  “I'm the stone, and you're
the blood.  Or maybe it's the other way around.”

“What does that even mean?” Seungri pouted.

“Google it, maknae.  And write me a song while I'm gone.”

“Whatever you say.” Seungri squeezed Seunghyun's hand again before raising up
on one elbow, peering down at him in the dim light. “I just remembered to tell
you.  I'm taking the camera.”

“What? You can't take back a birthday present,” Seunghyun protested.

“I'm not. I'm just going to keep it safe until you get back.”

“So it's a date, then?” Seunghyun waggled his eyebrows.

“What?” Seungri laughed.  Seunghyun pulled him back down, then in, wanting to
set the touch of skin on skin into his memory.

“The return ceremony.  We'll put something else on it to commemorate the
event.” He traced his thumb along the edge of Seungri's lower lip. Miss this
already. Seunghyun cupped his cheek.And these.

“Wow, I guess you really liked being on camera,” Seungri said, tilting his face
into the caress.

“Only if you are the director,” Seunghyun said. “Then I'm more than okay with
it. What do you think?”  He tilted his jaw up.  Kiss me.

Seungri accepted his invitation, solemn and sweet for a time before he set
about leaving Seunghyun bruised and breathless.
“I'll wait,” Seungri said, and Seunghyun knew he'd never stop wanting him, no
matter how much it hurt.
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