v.i. spells victory!
>> checkmate in reverse.
>> jiyong/seungri. youngbae/seungri. ot3.
>> pg13. for language and homo-ness.
>> this is not real. believe me.
>> thailand is a land of opportunity. (1118words)
>> because i felt like i need to write something based on the boys' picture in thailand. and because jiyong and seungri are so obvious it's ridiculous. and because youngbae looks at seungri so gently i can't even. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY. D:
>> comments are appreciated and loved for infinity!
{checkmate in reverse}
They were in Thailand and they were laughing at Seunghyun, who was pissed drunk and hitting on a long-legged beauty at the table next to theirs in a garbled mix of English and Korean. The interview went well and the fans were less a mob than an intimidating group of girls shouting oppas and saranghaes in unison. Seunghyun declared loudly after his third Guinness that those were enough reasons to celebrate because this felt a little bit like a getaway, a hard-earned holiday. Daesung had agreed with a cheer and Jiyong nudged another bottle of Smirnoff Ice into Seungri’s hands only to have Youngbae pry it away seconds after.
Jiyong managed to look only slightly offended.
“What the shit, Bae.”
“He’s still getting used to drinking.” Youngbae passed the bottle to Seunghyun instead and placed a steadying hand on Seungri’s back. Seungri had been rocking back and forth, reciting a poem about living with fishes to anyone who would listen. “I think he's had enough for tonight.”
“You’re not his mother.”
“Someone's gotta look after him, Ji.”
Jiyong pressed his lips together, fingers curled tight around the neck of his beer. “I already am.”
Youngbae looked away and poured a glass of water for Seungri.
Daesung laughed two minutes into the tense silence, loud and awkward and started rattling off stories from when they were trainees. Some were recycled interview gags and Seungri had progressed from poem recital to mumbling his way through their first mini album, dedicating each song to his bandmates. It was only when Seunghyun’s advances were rewarded with heavily-accented English in a voice too deep to be feminine that their translator finally called the night off. They gathered for a group photo and Seungri stumbled towards Jiyong, more out of habit than anything.
Jiyong’s grin was wide and triumphant against the flash of the camera.
♠
“Hey, hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not. You just had too much to drink last night.”
“No, no. I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”
“You know I won’t let you die.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Big Bang won’t be the same without you.”
“You’re really awesome, hyung.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I love you, hyung.”
“That’s great, maknae. I love you too.”
Seungri retched into the toilet bowl and Youngbae rubbed soothing circles over Seungri’s back, knees scratching polished tiles. Jiyong hovered by the door with pills in his hand and a frown on his face because this was his and Seungri’s room (Youngbae didn’t forget). He stormed off when Seungri sobbed and reached out for Youngbae, followed by the crash of doors slammed shut.
Youngbae never thought that victory could taste so bitter.
♠
Seunghyun wanted to talk.
“So what’s up with the two of you?”
Daesung shifted uncomfortably on the couch and pretended to be interested in the news, something about a lot of people dying in another part of the world even when he couldn’t pronounce the name of the country properly. Seunghyun was leaning against the kitchen counter, a languid stretch of authority and dark eyes as he stared at Youngbae and Jiyong. Jiyong might be the leader but Seunghyun was older and seniority breached walls and boundaries.
“What are you talking about, hyung?” Youngbae tried the nonchalant route, since Jiyong seemed absorbed in whatever it was he’s listening to. Youngbae was too busy swallowing guilt to point out that Jiyong’s iPod was still switched off.
Seunghyun quirked an eyebrow and Daesung burrowed his face into the cushion squeezed between his knees. “We’re not blind. Whatever the fuck you’re doing, stop it.”
“Wha-”
“It’s nothing,” Jiyong cut in. “It’s just a game, hyung. Chill.”
Jiyong turned to Youngbae and his smile was cutting.
“Right, Bae?”
Youngbae wasn’t sure who was keeping the scores but he felt like he had just lost a round.
♠
The streets were too bright, fluorescent spilling over grey concrete and Thailand offered anonymity wrapped in long walks and midnight food stalls. It was the kind of reckless freedom that invited troubles but Seungri wanted to see Bangkok without the glamour of a translator and the watchful eyes of their manager. Youngbae could never say no and Jiyong pulled Seungri into a quick hug, whispered something that earned him giggles and a shove on his chest before they shuffled out of their shared temporary quarters. Seunghyun and Daesung declined the invitation and Seungri confided to Youngbae that he thought Seunghyun might be mad at him because he was looking at me funny; did I do something wrong, hyung?
“He’s probably tired,” Youngbae offered, wanted to smooth the frown lines on Seungri’s face. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. “We should just leave him alone for a while.”
Seungri nodded distractedly and turned to Jiyong, who was laughing by himself. “What’s so funny? Yah, hyung, why are you laughing?”
Jiyong just shook his head and laughed harder, before breaking into a light jog towards a deserted playground around the bend of the street. It was shrouded in shadows and rusty metal traps but Seungri ran after Jiyong and Youngbae didn’t really have a choice. He gave the place a once-over and tried to remember the last time he had his tetanus shot. The swings creaked when Seungri sat in one of them and wrapped his fingers around thick chains, kicked up a spray of dust from the gravel underneath. Jiyong claimed the only swing left so Youngbae stood in front of them, tried not to look as awkward as he felt.
“This is nice,” Seungri said and grinned at everything. It was almost perfect. “Jiyong hyung, I bet I can go higher than you!”
Jiyong’s sneakers scuffed dirt and gravel and the swing propelled forward with a push. “Yeah, you wish!”
The echoes of their laughter trailed off into the night, swallowed like secrets and Youngbae held his breath as the swings rattled death threats between rasps of metal against metal. He watched in horrified fascination as they soared higher and higher, feet bent at odd angles and they were reduced to blurs at the mercy of gravity. It couldn’t have been more than a minute, felt like eternity but when Seungri hopped off in one piece, Youngbae nearly sagged in relief. He was mostly scared, mostly angry.
“That was dangerous. That thing could’ve collapsed.”
“But fun!” Seungri staggered forward, swung an arm around Youngbae’s shoulder and pressed close for support. “You should try it, hyung! We can fly together!”
Jiyong was swinging back and forth in slow motion, watched the distance between them. His eyes met Youngbae’s and his voice was too quiet when he said, “We’re better at falling, maknae.”
Youngbae could maybe understand what Jiyong meant.
{END}
>> jiyong/seungri. youngbae/seungri. ot3.
>> pg13. for language and homo-ness.
>> this is not real. believe me.
>> thailand is a land of opportunity. (1118words)
>> because i felt like i need to write something based on the boys' picture in thailand. and because jiyong and seungri are so obvious it's ridiculous. and because youngbae looks at seungri so gently i can't even. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY. D:
>> comments are appreciated and loved for infinity!
{checkmate in reverse}
They were in Thailand and they were laughing at Seunghyun, who was pissed drunk and hitting on a long-legged beauty at the table next to theirs in a garbled mix of English and Korean. The interview went well and the fans were less a mob than an intimidating group of girls shouting oppas and saranghaes in unison. Seunghyun declared loudly after his third Guinness that those were enough reasons to celebrate because this felt a little bit like a getaway, a hard-earned holiday. Daesung had agreed with a cheer and Jiyong nudged another bottle of Smirnoff Ice into Seungri’s hands only to have Youngbae pry it away seconds after.
Jiyong managed to look only slightly offended.
“What the shit, Bae.”
“He’s still getting used to drinking.” Youngbae passed the bottle to Seunghyun instead and placed a steadying hand on Seungri’s back. Seungri had been rocking back and forth, reciting a poem about living with fishes to anyone who would listen. “I think he's had enough for tonight.”
“You’re not his mother.”
“Someone's gotta look after him, Ji.”
Jiyong pressed his lips together, fingers curled tight around the neck of his beer. “I already am.”
Youngbae looked away and poured a glass of water for Seungri.
Daesung laughed two minutes into the tense silence, loud and awkward and started rattling off stories from when they were trainees. Some were recycled interview gags and Seungri had progressed from poem recital to mumbling his way through their first mini album, dedicating each song to his bandmates. It was only when Seunghyun’s advances were rewarded with heavily-accented English in a voice too deep to be feminine that their translator finally called the night off. They gathered for a group photo and Seungri stumbled towards Jiyong, more out of habit than anything.
Jiyong’s grin was wide and triumphant against the flash of the camera.
♠
“Hey, hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not. You just had too much to drink last night.”
“No, no. I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”
“You know I won’t let you die.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Big Bang won’t be the same without you.”
“You’re really awesome, hyung.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I love you, hyung.”
“That’s great, maknae. I love you too.”
Seungri retched into the toilet bowl and Youngbae rubbed soothing circles over Seungri’s back, knees scratching polished tiles. Jiyong hovered by the door with pills in his hand and a frown on his face because this was his and Seungri’s room (Youngbae didn’t forget). He stormed off when Seungri sobbed and reached out for Youngbae, followed by the crash of doors slammed shut.
Youngbae never thought that victory could taste so bitter.
♠
Seunghyun wanted to talk.
“So what’s up with the two of you?”
Daesung shifted uncomfortably on the couch and pretended to be interested in the news, something about a lot of people dying in another part of the world even when he couldn’t pronounce the name of the country properly. Seunghyun was leaning against the kitchen counter, a languid stretch of authority and dark eyes as he stared at Youngbae and Jiyong. Jiyong might be the leader but Seunghyun was older and seniority breached walls and boundaries.
“What are you talking about, hyung?” Youngbae tried the nonchalant route, since Jiyong seemed absorbed in whatever it was he’s listening to. Youngbae was too busy swallowing guilt to point out that Jiyong’s iPod was still switched off.
Seunghyun quirked an eyebrow and Daesung burrowed his face into the cushion squeezed between his knees. “We’re not blind. Whatever the fuck you’re doing, stop it.”
“Wha-”
“It’s nothing,” Jiyong cut in. “It’s just a game, hyung. Chill.”
Jiyong turned to Youngbae and his smile was cutting.
“Right, Bae?”
Youngbae wasn’t sure who was keeping the scores but he felt like he had just lost a round.
♠
The streets were too bright, fluorescent spilling over grey concrete and Thailand offered anonymity wrapped in long walks and midnight food stalls. It was the kind of reckless freedom that invited troubles but Seungri wanted to see Bangkok without the glamour of a translator and the watchful eyes of their manager. Youngbae could never say no and Jiyong pulled Seungri into a quick hug, whispered something that earned him giggles and a shove on his chest before they shuffled out of their shared temporary quarters. Seunghyun and Daesung declined the invitation and Seungri confided to Youngbae that he thought Seunghyun might be mad at him because he was looking at me funny; did I do something wrong, hyung?
“He’s probably tired,” Youngbae offered, wanted to smooth the frown lines on Seungri’s face. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. “We should just leave him alone for a while.”
Seungri nodded distractedly and turned to Jiyong, who was laughing by himself. “What’s so funny? Yah, hyung, why are you laughing?”
Jiyong just shook his head and laughed harder, before breaking into a light jog towards a deserted playground around the bend of the street. It was shrouded in shadows and rusty metal traps but Seungri ran after Jiyong and Youngbae didn’t really have a choice. He gave the place a once-over and tried to remember the last time he had his tetanus shot. The swings creaked when Seungri sat in one of them and wrapped his fingers around thick chains, kicked up a spray of dust from the gravel underneath. Jiyong claimed the only swing left so Youngbae stood in front of them, tried not to look as awkward as he felt.
“This is nice,” Seungri said and grinned at everything. It was almost perfect. “Jiyong hyung, I bet I can go higher than you!”
Jiyong’s sneakers scuffed dirt and gravel and the swing propelled forward with a push. “Yeah, you wish!”
The echoes of their laughter trailed off into the night, swallowed like secrets and Youngbae held his breath as the swings rattled death threats between rasps of metal against metal. He watched in horrified fascination as they soared higher and higher, feet bent at odd angles and they were reduced to blurs at the mercy of gravity. It couldn’t have been more than a minute, felt like eternity but when Seungri hopped off in one piece, Youngbae nearly sagged in relief. He was mostly scared, mostly angry.
“That was dangerous. That thing could’ve collapsed.”
“But fun!” Seungri staggered forward, swung an arm around Youngbae’s shoulder and pressed close for support. “You should try it, hyung! We can fly together!”
Jiyong was swinging back and forth in slow motion, watched the distance between them. His eyes met Youngbae’s and his voice was too quiet when he said, “We’re better at falling, maknae.”
Youngbae could maybe understand what Jiyong meant.
{END}