Big Bang Fic: G-Ri
so naive
jiyong/seungri, (AU) romance
x-posted to bigbang_fanfic, yokshim, and gd♥ri.
Life, Jiyong has learned, is all about illusions.
“Hey, Jiyong, can you help me with this rift?” Seungri asks from the couch, guitar perched atop his knee as he strums a few chords. They echo through the amps and around the garage. Seunghyun grunts from where he’s asleep at the desk, cheek pressed into the crease of his textbook, and Daesung ambles around the CD rack alongside Youngbae in search of a good album to put on before they start practice.
“Sure,” he says and squeezes himself into the space between Seungri and the arm of the couch. There’s at least enough space on his other side to fit three people, but he doesn’t question it anymore. Jiyong wraps his hand around the neck as Seungri unclips the strap, handing the guitar over to him. Jiyong fingers a few random notes as he studies the music sheet in front of him, working out the chord progressions in his head. He plays them, and the G minor doesn’t sound quite right, he thinks, so he jots down a few notes and flips it up to A minor. It mixes up the sound a bit, but it fits. He thinks he can make it work.
Seungri frowns. “Isn’t that different than what we had first planned?” he asks, and Jiyong smiles as he places the red-striped guitar back in his lap.
“Yup.”
He tilts his head.
“It’s okay to change things around, Seungri. Music is flexible.” He looks up at Jiyong as he stands, like a child staring at his idol, and really, it isn’t much more than that. A self-imposed delusion that Jiyong is some sort of god, that he’s special, when he’s really, really not. Seungri thinks he is, but he’s not. He’s not.
So Jiyong kisses his temple and pats his cheek and saunters away as if this is all just a game, a goddamn fucking game, and Seungri convinces himself he's in love. He has to be. He's never seen someone like this before, after all. It's not his fault that he doesn't know how to handle Jiyong.
They play their song that following Friday on a stage in some smokey bar, girls with low-rise tops and skinny, skinny jeans losing themselves in the adrenaline and Jiyong's words are brought through five speakers, five people, five souls. It's a beautiful thing to behold; such an empowering feeling.
'It's you, the way you smile the way you talk. It's me, the way I fall with every step you walk. It's you and me and it's love.'
The performance ends with sweat and cheers and hugs and thank you's as they all slip off stage. Seungri sticks a little too close to Jiyong along the hallway leading to the bathrooms and backstage area.
"You were good tonight," he whispers quietly, said for only Jiyong to hear. He puts his chin on Jiyong's shoulder, lips brushing skin briefly as they pause next to the door leading outside.
"You were, too," Jiyong says. And then he pats Seungri's head, ruffles his hair, and pulls out of the younger boy's grip to escape down the hallway.
Seungri's heart cracks a tiny bit as he jogs after Jiyong's back, but it's okay. It's better to break his heart little by little. It's better to let him down easy.
So it continues, this facade, this illusion, mere child's play in the face of reality, and Seungri discovers a wider view in life and Jiyong shows him the map to it all and it only ends when they say so.
Let's play love. Let's play the game.
New request post up. Feel free to ask for anything that you'd like me to write in the future. :)
jiyong/seungri, (AU) romance
x-posted to bigbang_fanfic, yokshim, and gd♥ri.
Life, Jiyong has learned, is all about illusions.
“Hey, Jiyong, can you help me with this rift?” Seungri asks from the couch, guitar perched atop his knee as he strums a few chords. They echo through the amps and around the garage. Seunghyun grunts from where he’s asleep at the desk, cheek pressed into the crease of his textbook, and Daesung ambles around the CD rack alongside Youngbae in search of a good album to put on before they start practice.
“Sure,” he says and squeezes himself into the space between Seungri and the arm of the couch. There’s at least enough space on his other side to fit three people, but he doesn’t question it anymore. Jiyong wraps his hand around the neck as Seungri unclips the strap, handing the guitar over to him. Jiyong fingers a few random notes as he studies the music sheet in front of him, working out the chord progressions in his head. He plays them, and the G minor doesn’t sound quite right, he thinks, so he jots down a few notes and flips it up to A minor. It mixes up the sound a bit, but it fits. He thinks he can make it work.
Seungri frowns. “Isn’t that different than what we had first planned?” he asks, and Jiyong smiles as he places the red-striped guitar back in his lap.
“Yup.”
He tilts his head.
“It’s okay to change things around, Seungri. Music is flexible.” He looks up at Jiyong as he stands, like a child staring at his idol, and really, it isn’t much more than that. A self-imposed delusion that Jiyong is some sort of god, that he’s special, when he’s really, really not. Seungri thinks he is, but he’s not. He’s not.
So Jiyong kisses his temple and pats his cheek and saunters away as if this is all just a game, a goddamn fucking game, and Seungri convinces himself he's in love. He has to be. He's never seen someone like this before, after all. It's not his fault that he doesn't know how to handle Jiyong.
They play their song that following Friday on a stage in some smokey bar, girls with low-rise tops and skinny, skinny jeans losing themselves in the adrenaline and Jiyong's words are brought through five speakers, five people, five souls. It's a beautiful thing to behold; such an empowering feeling.
'It's you, the way you smile the way you talk. It's me, the way I fall with every step you walk. It's you and me and it's love.'
The performance ends with sweat and cheers and hugs and thank you's as they all slip off stage. Seungri sticks a little too close to Jiyong along the hallway leading to the bathrooms and backstage area.
"You were good tonight," he whispers quietly, said for only Jiyong to hear. He puts his chin on Jiyong's shoulder, lips brushing skin briefly as they pause next to the door leading outside.
"You were, too," Jiyong says. And then he pats Seungri's head, ruffles his hair, and pulls out of the younger boy's grip to escape down the hallway.
Seungri's heart cracks a tiny bit as he jogs after Jiyong's back, but it's okay. It's better to break his heart little by little. It's better to let him down easy.
So it continues, this facade, this illusion, mere child's play in the face of reality, and Seungri discovers a wider view in life and Jiyong shows him the map to it all and it only ends when they say so.
Let's play love. Let's play the game.
New request post up. Feel free to ask for anything that you'd like me to write in the future. :)