twenty yards back - taeyang/seungri, pg-13
twenty yards back
paralyzing_time
angst; pg-13; taeyang/seungri
1592 words
one thing that lee seunghyun has always been good at is stealing dong youngbae’s heart.
notes: any sad song will do, but i was particularly listening to these songs while writing this.
Taeyang doesn’t quite recall when he’s fallen for their maknae, but he remembers the process well.
He watches quietly as Seungri struggles to get the steps to his new solo song right, and he watches quietly as Seungri cries through hardships he can’t take away. The burning in his heart tells him to do something, but Taeyang wills it to fade, and he’s grateful, because he knows this is one of the only things he can control.
It’s a little stupid, Taeyang decides one day when he notices Seungri make a mistake. He purposely falls, trips on his own two feet, to take attention away from Seungri’s mishap.
“Are you okay, Youngbae?” Jiyong and the choreographer immediately rush over to check on the dancer, hovering over him to check for injuries.
“Yeah,” Taeyang starts, waving them off, “I just need to rest for a bit.”
They both nod before leaving him be, talking amongst themselves. Daesung and TOP speak in hushed whispers of things unknown to Taeyang, but he doesn’t pay attention. As he moves to sit up, he hears Seungri’s voice pierce the silence.
“That’s… Kind of weird of you, hyung,” Seungri says, and Taeyang can hear the sheer forcefulness of having to replace the adjective, and the hidden snide entangled with smugness that envelopes his words.
I fell for you is what Taeyang half-desires to say, but bites his tongue before he can. Instead, he offers a petty excuse that he knows is completely transparent, but it satisfies Seungri’s need.
He sees the fame and glory consume Seungri, and he watches the previous modesty turn into greed for praise. He watches as the innocence dissolves to be consumed by the monster that’s destroying Seungri inside and out, and as much as he wants to rid of its existence, he knows the extent of the damage is too great for him to handle, and it’s not his battle to fight.
Taeyang’s eyes search Seungri for any trace of his former self, the one lost, but they only pinpoint the growing eye bags and dark spots; they see the way that Seungri’s clothes subtly become looser on his body, the way that crooked smile is never straight, and the way his skin is just a shade lighter.
“How do I look?” Seungri asks to anyone in the room, clad in the outfit he has to wear for the filming of his music video. Taeyang sees right through the question, like almost everybody else does nowadays, but he obliges to give the right answer.
“Great,” Taeyang says, and the smile across his lips is so fake that he can practically hear Jiyong’s grimace.
“You are fucking hopeless,” Jiyong announces to Taeyang as he steps into the room, causing the latter to pull one of his earbuds down from his ears.
“I’m not,” Taeyang protests weakly, and he groans when Jiyong sees right through it.
“You could just tell him,” the rapper says simply, plopping down next to Taeyang on the couch.
“No, I can’t. We’re kind of,” Taeyang pauses to make a gesture with his arms, indicating a great distance, “awkward, you know.”
“It’s kind of your fault, too,” Jiyong points out, taking the free earbud and putting it in his ear, and, at this point, Taeyang just kind of wishes the eloquence and softness of Jiyong’s lyrics would just spill out of his friend’s sharp mouth.
“I know,” Taeyang sighs his response out, albeit reluctantly, “I know.”
“Mothering him just annoys him,” Jiyong laughs, and Taeyang lets out a small smile.
“I know,” Taeyang replies, and turns up the volume on his iPod after.
“You’re trying too hard to be good at everything,” Taeyang observes as he watches Seungri rush around, and this freezes the younger male in his tracks.
“Am I?” Seungri says quietly, knowing his arrogance must wash away in the presence of his other band members.
“You’re good enough at what you do. You should focus on perfecting that instead of trying to do everything you know you can’t do,” Taeyang’s criticism flows from his lips easily, and he knows it will sting his dongsaeng, but he can’t find it in himself to hold back.
For once, Seungri goes quiet and then excuses himself when he has to leave.
You’re good enough for me, Taeyang thinks, but never says.
Taeyang’s fingers search to turn the radio on when he becomes bored in the car, fumbling with the knob to turn the volume up.
A wince almost flees his lips as ‘V.V.I.P.’ starts playing, not because the song is awful, but because it’s Seungri, all by himself. It’s not Big Bang - none of their activities are nowadays. It’s a part of Big Bang, a part missing a whole, and the thought of Seungri, all by himself, stings. Taeyang tries not to think too hard about it as the car ride goes on.
He silently mouths the lyrics to Seungri’s solo song before he’s even aware of it, and he decides the taste of the words is bitter on his tongue.
“The V.I.P.s will love you, Seungri,” he says, his accent softly lacing itself in his voice as he articulates the letters in English.
Taeyang watches as Seungri gives that crooked smile again - the one that both heals and tears his heart apart; the smile that can never form a perfectly curved line, and the smile that reminds Taeyang of Seungri’s many beautiful imperfections.
“Thank you, hyung,” Seungri whispers in the midst of the crowd of rushing people around, and Taeyang feels its gentle tone constrict his heart.
When Seungri leaves, Taeyang sits down in the chair next to him, his fingertips tracing a faint outline on his chest as the rhythms of the performance snake through the lines of tiles on the floor. He continues circling his finger along the contours of his heart, on the soft cloth of his shirt, reassuring himself that it’s still there, and silently prays the empty feeling will go away once he feels the beats of vitality brush against his fingertips.
Taeyang bites his lip thoughtfully as the recording’s almost finished, letting the air become occupied by the sweet sound of his own voice. His eyes close in contemplation as the song reaches his ears, and they open once Taeyang hears that quiet, subtle melody of yearning that enveloped itself in the lyrics tumbling from the speakers.
The male forces himself off of the couch in the studio when his phone rings with Seungri’s edited, covered voice from the solo songs. He pretends that it isn’t actually Seungri, and he finds himself missing the raw and pure passion that used to unwind itself from the microphone touching Seungri’s lips, the one that used to unravel every thought and emotion hidden in the back of his mind.
Taeyang’s yearning becomes undone like how one lets go of things - how one lets go of someone they love because they know better than to hold them back. He becomes as exposed and vulnerable as someone who lays it all on the line for people to see, his fingertips only able to press against the glass he’s hidden behind, but not touch.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” He asks Jiyong one day when the two of them are alone, sitting on the bed. The other blinks his eyes at the question and goes to sit next to his friend, at loss with what he wants to say and what should be said.
“Yeah,” Jiyong says and nods confidently with a smile on his face while his arm goes to wrap around Taeyang’s shoulders. “He’s our maknae, after all.”
Taeyang smiles at Jiyong’s words, and it’s beautiful on his face.
Taeyang makes time to watch at least one of Seungri’s solo performances, and he hides in the back of the audience, semi-hoping that Seungri notices him. He doesn’t, and Taeyang smiles to himself because he expects nothing different.
His eyes watch as Seungri glides along the stage, moves rigid and fixed, and, in the back of his mind, he knows Jiyong will chew him out for this. He won’t stop it, because he’s finally learned that Seungri needs someone to keep him on the ground, even if it isn’t himself.
As he continues to watch Seungri, and the song comes to an end and the fans scream and applaud, he finally sees what Seungri thinks of himself.
He’s still beautiful in the spotlight.
Taeyang returns back to the dorm late one night, and immediately turns the radio on after taking a very quick shower. He sighs quietly when ‘What Can I Do’ tumbles out of the modest-sized speakers, but he doesn’t turn it off yet.
He goes to brush his teeth, to stall things further, and he takes his time as he vigorously tries to clean his teeth of plaque, but eventually things end, and so does this too. Stepping out of the bathroom, his gaze slowly turns toward the innocent machine sitting on his dresser, and he bites his lip while walking toward it.
His fingers tremble in the cold air as they reach toward the knob, and it takes a moment of self-determination before he finally turns it so the radio is off, Seungri’s voice then ceasing to fill the room. Taeyang decides he can deal with this empty feeling better, because for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to.
He heads to bed to capture the remaining few hours of sleep he possesses, waiting for the next day’s schedule to come.
--
AND NOW WE ALL KNOW WHY I SHOULDN'T WRITE.
AND NOW WE ALL KNOW I'M NEVER FREELY WRITING BB AGAIN. EVER.
I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW BB AT ALL. ;_; (but many thanks to justcallmepriya for putting up with me /sobs)
/apologizes for my fail and rushing
/crawls back to my super junior
paralyzing_time
angst; pg-13; taeyang/seungri
1592 words
one thing that lee seunghyun has always been good at is stealing dong youngbae’s heart.
notes: any sad song will do, but i was particularly listening to these songs while writing this.
Taeyang doesn’t quite recall when he’s fallen for their maknae, but he remembers the process well.
He watches quietly as Seungri struggles to get the steps to his new solo song right, and he watches quietly as Seungri cries through hardships he can’t take away. The burning in his heart tells him to do something, but Taeyang wills it to fade, and he’s grateful, because he knows this is one of the only things he can control.
It’s a little stupid, Taeyang decides one day when he notices Seungri make a mistake. He purposely falls, trips on his own two feet, to take attention away from Seungri’s mishap.
“Are you okay, Youngbae?” Jiyong and the choreographer immediately rush over to check on the dancer, hovering over him to check for injuries.
“Yeah,” Taeyang starts, waving them off, “I just need to rest for a bit.”
They both nod before leaving him be, talking amongst themselves. Daesung and TOP speak in hushed whispers of things unknown to Taeyang, but he doesn’t pay attention. As he moves to sit up, he hears Seungri’s voice pierce the silence.
“That’s… Kind of weird of you, hyung,” Seungri says, and Taeyang can hear the sheer forcefulness of having to replace the adjective, and the hidden snide entangled with smugness that envelopes his words.
I fell for you is what Taeyang half-desires to say, but bites his tongue before he can. Instead, he offers a petty excuse that he knows is completely transparent, but it satisfies Seungri’s need.
He sees the fame and glory consume Seungri, and he watches the previous modesty turn into greed for praise. He watches as the innocence dissolves to be consumed by the monster that’s destroying Seungri inside and out, and as much as he wants to rid of its existence, he knows the extent of the damage is too great for him to handle, and it’s not his battle to fight.
Taeyang’s eyes search Seungri for any trace of his former self, the one lost, but they only pinpoint the growing eye bags and dark spots; they see the way that Seungri’s clothes subtly become looser on his body, the way that crooked smile is never straight, and the way his skin is just a shade lighter.
“How do I look?” Seungri asks to anyone in the room, clad in the outfit he has to wear for the filming of his music video. Taeyang sees right through the question, like almost everybody else does nowadays, but he obliges to give the right answer.
“Great,” Taeyang says, and the smile across his lips is so fake that he can practically hear Jiyong’s grimace.
“You are fucking hopeless,” Jiyong announces to Taeyang as he steps into the room, causing the latter to pull one of his earbuds down from his ears.
“I’m not,” Taeyang protests weakly, and he groans when Jiyong sees right through it.
“You could just tell him,” the rapper says simply, plopping down next to Taeyang on the couch.
“No, I can’t. We’re kind of,” Taeyang pauses to make a gesture with his arms, indicating a great distance, “awkward, you know.”
“It’s kind of your fault, too,” Jiyong points out, taking the free earbud and putting it in his ear, and, at this point, Taeyang just kind of wishes the eloquence and softness of Jiyong’s lyrics would just spill out of his friend’s sharp mouth.
“I know,” Taeyang sighs his response out, albeit reluctantly, “I know.”
“Mothering him just annoys him,” Jiyong laughs, and Taeyang lets out a small smile.
“I know,” Taeyang replies, and turns up the volume on his iPod after.
“You’re trying too hard to be good at everything,” Taeyang observes as he watches Seungri rush around, and this freezes the younger male in his tracks.
“Am I?” Seungri says quietly, knowing his arrogance must wash away in the presence of his other band members.
“You’re good enough at what you do. You should focus on perfecting that instead of trying to do everything you know you can’t do,” Taeyang’s criticism flows from his lips easily, and he knows it will sting his dongsaeng, but he can’t find it in himself to hold back.
For once, Seungri goes quiet and then excuses himself when he has to leave.
You’re good enough for me, Taeyang thinks, but never says.
Taeyang’s fingers search to turn the radio on when he becomes bored in the car, fumbling with the knob to turn the volume up.
A wince almost flees his lips as ‘V.V.I.P.’ starts playing, not because the song is awful, but because it’s Seungri, all by himself. It’s not Big Bang - none of their activities are nowadays. It’s a part of Big Bang, a part missing a whole, and the thought of Seungri, all by himself, stings. Taeyang tries not to think too hard about it as the car ride goes on.
He silently mouths the lyrics to Seungri’s solo song before he’s even aware of it, and he decides the taste of the words is bitter on his tongue.
“The V.I.P.s will love you, Seungri,” he says, his accent softly lacing itself in his voice as he articulates the letters in English.
Taeyang watches as Seungri gives that crooked smile again - the one that both heals and tears his heart apart; the smile that can never form a perfectly curved line, and the smile that reminds Taeyang of Seungri’s many beautiful imperfections.
“Thank you, hyung,” Seungri whispers in the midst of the crowd of rushing people around, and Taeyang feels its gentle tone constrict his heart.
When Seungri leaves, Taeyang sits down in the chair next to him, his fingertips tracing a faint outline on his chest as the rhythms of the performance snake through the lines of tiles on the floor. He continues circling his finger along the contours of his heart, on the soft cloth of his shirt, reassuring himself that it’s still there, and silently prays the empty feeling will go away once he feels the beats of vitality brush against his fingertips.
Taeyang bites his lip thoughtfully as the recording’s almost finished, letting the air become occupied by the sweet sound of his own voice. His eyes close in contemplation as the song reaches his ears, and they open once Taeyang hears that quiet, subtle melody of yearning that enveloped itself in the lyrics tumbling from the speakers.
The male forces himself off of the couch in the studio when his phone rings with Seungri’s edited, covered voice from the solo songs. He pretends that it isn’t actually Seungri, and he finds himself missing the raw and pure passion that used to unwind itself from the microphone touching Seungri’s lips, the one that used to unravel every thought and emotion hidden in the back of his mind.
Taeyang’s yearning becomes undone like how one lets go of things - how one lets go of someone they love because they know better than to hold them back. He becomes as exposed and vulnerable as someone who lays it all on the line for people to see, his fingertips only able to press against the glass he’s hidden behind, but not touch.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” He asks Jiyong one day when the two of them are alone, sitting on the bed. The other blinks his eyes at the question and goes to sit next to his friend, at loss with what he wants to say and what should be said.
“Yeah,” Jiyong says and nods confidently with a smile on his face while his arm goes to wrap around Taeyang’s shoulders. “He’s our maknae, after all.”
Taeyang smiles at Jiyong’s words, and it’s beautiful on his face.
Taeyang makes time to watch at least one of Seungri’s solo performances, and he hides in the back of the audience, semi-hoping that Seungri notices him. He doesn’t, and Taeyang smiles to himself because he expects nothing different.
His eyes watch as Seungri glides along the stage, moves rigid and fixed, and, in the back of his mind, he knows Jiyong will chew him out for this. He won’t stop it, because he’s finally learned that Seungri needs someone to keep him on the ground, even if it isn’t himself.
As he continues to watch Seungri, and the song comes to an end and the fans scream and applaud, he finally sees what Seungri thinks of himself.
He’s still beautiful in the spotlight.
Taeyang returns back to the dorm late one night, and immediately turns the radio on after taking a very quick shower. He sighs quietly when ‘What Can I Do’ tumbles out of the modest-sized speakers, but he doesn’t turn it off yet.
He goes to brush his teeth, to stall things further, and he takes his time as he vigorously tries to clean his teeth of plaque, but eventually things end, and so does this too. Stepping out of the bathroom, his gaze slowly turns toward the innocent machine sitting on his dresser, and he bites his lip while walking toward it.
His fingers tremble in the cold air as they reach toward the knob, and it takes a moment of self-determination before he finally turns it so the radio is off, Seungri’s voice then ceasing to fill the room. Taeyang decides he can deal with this empty feeling better, because for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to.
He heads to bed to capture the remaining few hours of sleep he possesses, waiting for the next day’s schedule to come.
--
AND NOW WE ALL KNOW WHY I SHOULDN'T WRITE.
AND NOW WE ALL KNOW I'M NEVER FREELY WRITING BB AGAIN. EVER.
I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW BB AT ALL. ;_; (but many thanks to justcallmepriya for putting up with me /sobs)
/apologizes for my fail and rushing
/crawls back to my super junior