this ship will not set sail
title: this heart is always beating
pairing: jiyong/seunghyun
word count: >2k
summary: the AU where jiyong is a model to the seunghyun's photographer, and there are feelings and insecurities.
a/n: this is super, super self-indulgent fic that i wrote after overdosing on bigbang youtube videos. this is not quality at all, i'm sorry i'm not as sorry as i should be. it's like 3 am and i started this maybe 4 hours ago, so no, this definitely has not been beta'd. (example of what you're getting yourself into, this is what the title of my word doc for this was: that au where g-g-g-dragon is a model and that handsome fucker is a photographer and they’re both failtastic fails who fail forever.) warnings for internal melodrama? wait, there's a word for this i just know it--oh right, angst.
It’s the morning of the shoot, and Seunghyun sits in a corner of the studio, fiddling with the settings on his camera. He’s not actually doing anything except scrolling though functions that are as familiar as the skin he wears, but he’s bored and doesn’t want to have to talk to anyone.
Okay, so he’s not bored, but he definitely doesn’t want to talk to anyone, and looking sullen and glaring at his camera tends to give off a wonderfully effective “fuck off and die” aura. He would know. He’s spent the last eight months perfecting it.
And yeah, he should probably go help with the lighting or something, but he’s too busy feeling sorry for himself and anyway, Daesung’s taking care of it. Seunghyun probably ought to pay him more what with all the shit he’s had to put up with, or at least promote him to...whatever position could be better than his apprentice. But he can’t deal with that right now because he knows he needs to acknowledge Daesung’s talents sooner or later, and if he does so sooner, then Daesung is just going to realize that he’s much better off on his own, but if Seunghyun waits, well. Daesung may be the most patient being alive, but even he has to have his limits.
Seunghyun knows that he’s probably overreacting, but give him a break okay he has to deal with his ex-boyfriend today which is just not something Seunghyun wants to deal with again in a length of time that basically amounts to ever.
Yes, he knows he’s got issues, thank you. Seunghyun is a world-renown photographer who’s ex-boyfriend just so happens to be an international top model (don’t even start); he could write epics on self-awareness.
It probably also doesn’t help that this is probably the most important shoot of his career. Something that would take him from world-renown to groundbreaking or atrocious with a single click of a button.
“Hyung?”
Seunghyun looks over. “Yeah?” he asks.
Daesung holds up his phone. “Jiyong-hyung’s here.”
Seunghyun sighs and pushes himself to his feet. He holds out hope that maybe between now and the approximate thirty seconds it’s going to take for those elevator doors to open that something would happen. Like, maybe the world would end and Seunghyun would be buried beneath ten stories of rubble while the sky rained fire, and whatever else happened wouldn’t matter because he’d be dead and Couldn’t Be Bothered.
But like the time his parents divorced, like the time his dog died, like the time his boyfr Jiyong walked away from him, the world moves forward without him, and the next thing he knows, there’s the obnoxiously cheerful ding! of the elevators, and Daesung is greeting Youngbae and Seungri like he hasn’t seen them in forever (eight months).
And Jiyong.
Jiyong.
Seunghyun half expects Jiyong to ignore him completely, or perhaps make a snide comment or three, but Jiyong catches his eye and smiles, beautifully, sincerely, like he’s honest-to-God happy to see Seunghyun.
And maybe Seunghyun’s been doing something right with his life because the universe decides then to grant him a little mercy, and he’s being knocked backwards by an ever-energetic Seungri and he has to focus on not letting both of them crash to the floor.
“Ah, hyung!” Seungri beams. “It’s been so long!”
“Yeah,” agrees Youngbae, clapping him on the shoulder. “I was starting to think you might be avoiding us.”
Which, alright, he totally deserved that.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and hates how desperate he sounds, wishes he’d never agreed to this project in the first place, wishes he could have been a proper coward and continued pretending as though the last year and a half of his life had never happened.
Seungri, still so young and blissfully ignorant, has already flitted off to interrogate Daesung on every single piece of equipment they have. Youngbae, on the other hand, assesses him. Seunghyun has to look away. He knows Youngbae and Jiyong have always been close, and that Youngbae is just trying to protect him--maybe protect Seunghyun too--but he can’t deal with those knowing eyes right now.
“It’s good to see you, Seunghyun-hyung,” Youngbae says finally, kindly.
“Yeah,” exhales Seunghyun and makes an incomprehensible gesture towards the set. “I’ve just got to--” and escapes walks away. Youngbae, to his credit, lets him.
*
The concept of the shoot is actually quite simple. Nature takes back the Earth.
Seunghyun, though, has decided that he doesn’t want to go the easy route. Everyone’s seen the glorified tree sprites and water nymphs tricking unsuspecting humans, so Seunghyun decides he wants something different. Something terrible.
He wants Nature to be brutal, to be as unforgiving as the typhoons that ravage East Asia. He wants these photos to terrify, to be as ugly as they are beautiful.
Jiyong is the only one he knows who could pull this off.
It’s going to be a long day, because Jiyong, the only one who could pull this off, the only one Seunghyun trusts to do this right, is literally the only model here. He has to play both Man and Nature, and the makeup alone is going to take hours.
And since he is the worst coward to ever confront his cowardice, Seunghyun is currently hiding behind the set under the pretense of repositioning the sandbags, instead of running through the concept one more time with Jiyong as he would have were it any other model.
He’d handed that task off to Daesung, who’d given him a look of sympathy and disappointment, before obediently trotting off towards the makeup room. Seunghyun had resisted bashing his head into the nearest light stand because he was very much aware of how absolutely pathetic he was being, but he couldn’t help it. Jiyong was just so...Jiyong. No buried anger, no bitterness. Just genuine happiness at being able to work together again.
And truth be told, Seunghyun had missed working with him. He missed their easy back-and-forth. He missed working with someone who shared his visions, someone who didn’t need mock-ups or rough sketches to understand what he was doing, someone who simply just knew.
He misses Jiyong. Seunghyun’s missed him ever since he walked out the door, past the gates, and into his car. It’s his own fault, Seunghyun knows. His own fears, his own insecurities are the reasons Jiyong left.
And he hadn’t so much as left as Seunghyun had forced him to leave. Seunghyun had stood there, blocking the doorway, shaking his head no matter how much Jiyong tried to talk to him, tried to get him to just say something, just please hyung, we can fix this. Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it.
But he’d refused. He’d refused and refused and snapped and kept snapping until Jiyong’s face had hardened and he’d left without another word.
“You’re going to have to talk to him at some point,” says a voice from just beside him. Seunghyun nearly falls over.
“Jesus!” he yells. Seungri watches him pull himself together unapologetically.
“Maybe you should get your ears checked, hyung,” says Seungri cheekily. “I hear those are always the first to go.”
“Punk,” Seunghyun retorts pithily. “Why are you even here, isn’t it a school night?”
Seungri levels him with an unimpressed stare. “I’m only going to let that slide because you’re out of practice since I haven’t been around to keep you on your toes.”
“So generous,” Seunghyun says flatly, but he smiles just slightly before pulling Seungri into a headlock and blowing a raspberry on his ear.
“Oh my God!” Seungri yells, flailing his arms wildly in an useless attempt to free himself. “I give! I give! Oh my God, you’re so disgusting!”
Grinning, Seunghyun releases him. “I’m reminding you of your place, maknae,” he says affectionately.
“Ugh,” Seungri says feelingly. “You’re the worst.”
“Hey,” he warns mockingly. “I took you in first.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seungri replies with an exaggerated pout. “By the way, Jiyong-hyung’s asking for you.”
Seunghyun can practically feel his face freeze. “He can’t be done with makeup already.”
“He’s not,” says Seungri. “But he is asking for you.”
“Oh,” he says.
Seungri waits exactly half a beat before raising an eyebrow. “Do you want me to--”
“No,” he says quickly. “No, I’m going.”
“Okay,” says Seungri. “I’ll just wait here then.”
“Do that,” he replies.
“Sure,” says Seungri.
Seunghyun swallows. “What did he look like?” he asks quietly.
“Very green,” says Seungri. Seunghyun shoots him a look. “He does!” Seungri protests.
*
Jiyong is indeed looking very green. The artists are carefully painting his chest and neck various shades of leafy green, while the hairstylist teases his hair into an afro. He’s chatting with them when Seunghyun walks in.
“Hey, hyung,” he says, grinning widely. “How’s it going?”
Seunghyun nods stiffly, unable to smile back. “Fine,” he responds. “How are you?”
Jiyong just smiles at him, and Seunghyun wishes he could make himself forget this boy, forget his tells and his expressions, because Seunghyun can see the sadness in his eyes, the regret, and he wants to shake him, wants to shake Jiyong until he doesn’t look so damn devastated, because a beautiful creature like him should never have to know what devastation even means much less experience it enough to show.
Seunghyun looks away (tears, wrenches himself away) and says, “Give us a minute, please. There are some--” but they save him from having to think up some stupid excuse and discreetly shut the door behind them.
“Seunghyun-hyung,” Jiyong says, and Seunghyun doesn’t even have to look to know that he’s biting his lip, unsure of what to do next. And Seunghyun hates that. Hates that no matter how hard he’s tried, he just can’t forget Jiyong. Fuck, he even still remembers how Jiyong smells, fresh with just a hint of spice.
“Seunghyun-hyung,” Jiyong says again, softer this time, and Seunghyun pinches the bridge of his nose, concentrates on steady breathing before exhaling slowly and meeting his gaze.
It’s so unfair. It’s unfair that after all this time, Seunghyun can’t find even a trace of anger in Jiyong’s face. There’s nothing. Just a timidness that Seunghyun rarely recalls seeing.
“Why aren’t you angry?” he asks, because he just can’t understand. Seunghyun has been waiting for some kind of reaction ever since Jiyong left. He’s been waiting for some kind of retribution, some judgement day that hasn’t yet come.
Jiyong looks down briefly, and when he meets Seunghyun’s gaze again, he says very slowly, “I’m not angry.”
“Why not?” asks (begs) Seunghyun. “You should hate me.”
“No,” he says, quiet but firm. “I can’t.”
Seunghyun kneels in front of him and bows his head. “I never should have said what I did. I didn’t mean it--I just--I don’t know, Jiyong, God I don’t know--”
He feels the warm, soothing heat of Jiyong’s palm by his cheek before he feels the touch, but he can’t bring himself to look up yet. “Hyung,” Jiyong says. “Hyung, it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he can’t understand why but he’s shaking, like every ounce of control he’s ever had is just too tired to hold him together anymore. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
There’s a hand on the back of his neck now, and he feels Jiyong shifting to kneel in front of him, one hand running smooth circles against the nape of his neck and the other simply holding him there in front of him. Their foreheads touch.
“Don’t hate me,” Jiyong says, and kisses him. And God, he’s missed this so much. Missed the way Jiyong can just fold himself into Seunghyun, like he’s always been there, like this has always been his place in the world. The kiss itself is gentle, but Seunghyun can feel the ache, the desperation, and he pulls Jiyong closer, because if he can’t figure out how to give Jiyong what he wants, the least he can do is take away everything he can.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when they pull apart. He can feel the ghost of Jiyong’s breath of his lips, the light touch of his nose to his.
“I love you,” Jiyong says. “I swear to God, I love you. Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“I can’t,” he says, desperate. “You--Jiyong, you’re so talented and you’re going to achieve so much. You deserve someone better.”
“I deserve you,” Jiyong answers. “God, hyung, how can you even--I don’t want someone else. No one is better than you.”
“That’s not true,” he protests, but Jiyong silences him with a hard kiss, one that pushes Seunghyun back, until Jiyong is straddling his lap and his hands are running through Seunghyun’s hair, tugging gently at the ends, making Seunghyun’s mind blissfully blank. “I don’t,” he tries again.
“You do,” argues Jiyong. “I swear you do. I’m going to make you understand, okay? I promise. I promise I won’t leave, no matter what you say when you’re scared. I’m going to make you see how special you are, hyung. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. You’re the best thing I’ve ever head, and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to walk away when I knew you needed me.”
“No,” he says. “No, Jiyong.”
“Do you love me?” Jiyong asks. “Do you love me, yes or no?”
“God,” he nearly chokes out. “Yes, yes, you know I do.”
“Okay then,” Jiyong says.
“Okay,” says Seunghyun and kisses him again. “Okay.”
And he knows it’s not going to end here. Everything isn’t just going to fall into place. It’s not going to go as smoothly as either of them would like, but it’ll go, and Seunghyun--he’s scared, yeah, but he thinks, maybe, he can do this. For Jiyong. He’ll try, anyway, because he’s tired of being a coward, tired of regrets. He wants to try this, properly, without defenses, without expecting the worst. He wants the best for Jiyong, and by God he’ll do whatever it takes to give him that.
pairing: jiyong/seunghyun
word count: >2k
summary: the AU where jiyong is a model to the seunghyun's photographer, and there are feelings and insecurities.
a/n: this is super, super self-indulgent fic that i wrote after overdosing on bigbang youtube videos. this is not quality at all, i'm sorry i'm not as sorry as i should be. it's like 3 am and i started this maybe 4 hours ago, so no, this definitely has not been beta'd. (example of what you're getting yourself into, this is what the title of my word doc for this was: that au where g-g-g-dragon is a model and that handsome fucker is a photographer and they’re both failtastic fails who fail forever.) warnings for internal melodrama? wait, there's a word for this i just know it--oh right, angst.
It’s the morning of the shoot, and Seunghyun sits in a corner of the studio, fiddling with the settings on his camera. He’s not actually doing anything except scrolling though functions that are as familiar as the skin he wears, but he’s bored and doesn’t want to have to talk to anyone.
Okay, so he’s not bored, but he definitely doesn’t want to talk to anyone, and looking sullen and glaring at his camera tends to give off a wonderfully effective “fuck off and die” aura. He would know. He’s spent the last eight months perfecting it.
And yeah, he should probably go help with the lighting or something, but he’s too busy feeling sorry for himself and anyway, Daesung’s taking care of it. Seunghyun probably ought to pay him more what with all the shit he’s had to put up with, or at least promote him to...whatever position could be better than his apprentice. But he can’t deal with that right now because he knows he needs to acknowledge Daesung’s talents sooner or later, and if he does so sooner, then Daesung is just going to realize that he’s much better off on his own, but if Seunghyun waits, well. Daesung may be the most patient being alive, but even he has to have his limits.
Seunghyun knows that he’s probably overreacting, but give him a break okay he has to deal with his ex-boyfriend today which is just not something Seunghyun wants to deal with again in a length of time that basically amounts to ever.
Yes, he knows he’s got issues, thank you. Seunghyun is a world-renown photographer who’s ex-boyfriend just so happens to be an international top model (don’t even start); he could write epics on self-awareness.
It probably also doesn’t help that this is probably the most important shoot of his career. Something that would take him from world-renown to groundbreaking or atrocious with a single click of a button.
“Hyung?”
Seunghyun looks over. “Yeah?” he asks.
Daesung holds up his phone. “Jiyong-hyung’s here.”
Seunghyun sighs and pushes himself to his feet. He holds out hope that maybe between now and the approximate thirty seconds it’s going to take for those elevator doors to open that something would happen. Like, maybe the world would end and Seunghyun would be buried beneath ten stories of rubble while the sky rained fire, and whatever else happened wouldn’t matter because he’d be dead and Couldn’t Be Bothered.
But like the time his parents divorced, like the time his dog died, like the time his boyfr Jiyong walked away from him, the world moves forward without him, and the next thing he knows, there’s the obnoxiously cheerful ding! of the elevators, and Daesung is greeting Youngbae and Seungri like he hasn’t seen them in forever (eight months).
And Jiyong.
Jiyong.
Seunghyun half expects Jiyong to ignore him completely, or perhaps make a snide comment or three, but Jiyong catches his eye and smiles, beautifully, sincerely, like he’s honest-to-God happy to see Seunghyun.
And maybe Seunghyun’s been doing something right with his life because the universe decides then to grant him a little mercy, and he’s being knocked backwards by an ever-energetic Seungri and he has to focus on not letting both of them crash to the floor.
“Ah, hyung!” Seungri beams. “It’s been so long!”
“Yeah,” agrees Youngbae, clapping him on the shoulder. “I was starting to think you might be avoiding us.”
Which, alright, he totally deserved that.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and hates how desperate he sounds, wishes he’d never agreed to this project in the first place, wishes he could have been a proper coward and continued pretending as though the last year and a half of his life had never happened.
Seungri, still so young and blissfully ignorant, has already flitted off to interrogate Daesung on every single piece of equipment they have. Youngbae, on the other hand, assesses him. Seunghyun has to look away. He knows Youngbae and Jiyong have always been close, and that Youngbae is just trying to protect him--maybe protect Seunghyun too--but he can’t deal with those knowing eyes right now.
“It’s good to see you, Seunghyun-hyung,” Youngbae says finally, kindly.
“Yeah,” exhales Seunghyun and makes an incomprehensible gesture towards the set. “I’ve just got to--” and escapes walks away. Youngbae, to his credit, lets him.
*
The concept of the shoot is actually quite simple. Nature takes back the Earth.
Seunghyun, though, has decided that he doesn’t want to go the easy route. Everyone’s seen the glorified tree sprites and water nymphs tricking unsuspecting humans, so Seunghyun decides he wants something different. Something terrible.
He wants Nature to be brutal, to be as unforgiving as the typhoons that ravage East Asia. He wants these photos to terrify, to be as ugly as they are beautiful.
Jiyong is the only one he knows who could pull this off.
It’s going to be a long day, because Jiyong, the only one who could pull this off, the only one Seunghyun trusts to do this right, is literally the only model here. He has to play both Man and Nature, and the makeup alone is going to take hours.
And since he is the worst coward to ever confront his cowardice, Seunghyun is currently hiding behind the set under the pretense of repositioning the sandbags, instead of running through the concept one more time with Jiyong as he would have were it any other model.
He’d handed that task off to Daesung, who’d given him a look of sympathy and disappointment, before obediently trotting off towards the makeup room. Seunghyun had resisted bashing his head into the nearest light stand because he was very much aware of how absolutely pathetic he was being, but he couldn’t help it. Jiyong was just so...Jiyong. No buried anger, no bitterness. Just genuine happiness at being able to work together again.
And truth be told, Seunghyun had missed working with him. He missed their easy back-and-forth. He missed working with someone who shared his visions, someone who didn’t need mock-ups or rough sketches to understand what he was doing, someone who simply just knew.
He misses Jiyong. Seunghyun’s missed him ever since he walked out the door, past the gates, and into his car. It’s his own fault, Seunghyun knows. His own fears, his own insecurities are the reasons Jiyong left.
And he hadn’t so much as left as Seunghyun had forced him to leave. Seunghyun had stood there, blocking the doorway, shaking his head no matter how much Jiyong tried to talk to him, tried to get him to just say something, just please hyung, we can fix this. Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it.
But he’d refused. He’d refused and refused and snapped and kept snapping until Jiyong’s face had hardened and he’d left without another word.
“You’re going to have to talk to him at some point,” says a voice from just beside him. Seunghyun nearly falls over.
“Jesus!” he yells. Seungri watches him pull himself together unapologetically.
“Maybe you should get your ears checked, hyung,” says Seungri cheekily. “I hear those are always the first to go.”
“Punk,” Seunghyun retorts pithily. “Why are you even here, isn’t it a school night?”
Seungri levels him with an unimpressed stare. “I’m only going to let that slide because you’re out of practice since I haven’t been around to keep you on your toes.”
“So generous,” Seunghyun says flatly, but he smiles just slightly before pulling Seungri into a headlock and blowing a raspberry on his ear.
“Oh my God!” Seungri yells, flailing his arms wildly in an useless attempt to free himself. “I give! I give! Oh my God, you’re so disgusting!”
Grinning, Seunghyun releases him. “I’m reminding you of your place, maknae,” he says affectionately.
“Ugh,” Seungri says feelingly. “You’re the worst.”
“Hey,” he warns mockingly. “I took you in first.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seungri replies with an exaggerated pout. “By the way, Jiyong-hyung’s asking for you.”
Seunghyun can practically feel his face freeze. “He can’t be done with makeup already.”
“He’s not,” says Seungri. “But he is asking for you.”
“Oh,” he says.
Seungri waits exactly half a beat before raising an eyebrow. “Do you want me to--”
“No,” he says quickly. “No, I’m going.”
“Okay,” says Seungri. “I’ll just wait here then.”
“Do that,” he replies.
“Sure,” says Seungri.
Seunghyun swallows. “What did he look like?” he asks quietly.
“Very green,” says Seungri. Seunghyun shoots him a look. “He does!” Seungri protests.
*
Jiyong is indeed looking very green. The artists are carefully painting his chest and neck various shades of leafy green, while the hairstylist teases his hair into an afro. He’s chatting with them when Seunghyun walks in.
“Hey, hyung,” he says, grinning widely. “How’s it going?”
Seunghyun nods stiffly, unable to smile back. “Fine,” he responds. “How are you?”
Jiyong just smiles at him, and Seunghyun wishes he could make himself forget this boy, forget his tells and his expressions, because Seunghyun can see the sadness in his eyes, the regret, and he wants to shake him, wants to shake Jiyong until he doesn’t look so damn devastated, because a beautiful creature like him should never have to know what devastation even means much less experience it enough to show.
Seunghyun looks away (tears, wrenches himself away) and says, “Give us a minute, please. There are some--” but they save him from having to think up some stupid excuse and discreetly shut the door behind them.
“Seunghyun-hyung,” Jiyong says, and Seunghyun doesn’t even have to look to know that he’s biting his lip, unsure of what to do next. And Seunghyun hates that. Hates that no matter how hard he’s tried, he just can’t forget Jiyong. Fuck, he even still remembers how Jiyong smells, fresh with just a hint of spice.
“Seunghyun-hyung,” Jiyong says again, softer this time, and Seunghyun pinches the bridge of his nose, concentrates on steady breathing before exhaling slowly and meeting his gaze.
It’s so unfair. It’s unfair that after all this time, Seunghyun can’t find even a trace of anger in Jiyong’s face. There’s nothing. Just a timidness that Seunghyun rarely recalls seeing.
“Why aren’t you angry?” he asks, because he just can’t understand. Seunghyun has been waiting for some kind of reaction ever since Jiyong left. He’s been waiting for some kind of retribution, some judgement day that hasn’t yet come.
Jiyong looks down briefly, and when he meets Seunghyun’s gaze again, he says very slowly, “I’m not angry.”
“Why not?” asks (begs) Seunghyun. “You should hate me.”
“No,” he says, quiet but firm. “I can’t.”
Seunghyun kneels in front of him and bows his head. “I never should have said what I did. I didn’t mean it--I just--I don’t know, Jiyong, God I don’t know--”
He feels the warm, soothing heat of Jiyong’s palm by his cheek before he feels the touch, but he can’t bring himself to look up yet. “Hyung,” Jiyong says. “Hyung, it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he can’t understand why but he’s shaking, like every ounce of control he’s ever had is just too tired to hold him together anymore. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
There’s a hand on the back of his neck now, and he feels Jiyong shifting to kneel in front of him, one hand running smooth circles against the nape of his neck and the other simply holding him there in front of him. Their foreheads touch.
“Don’t hate me,” Jiyong says, and kisses him. And God, he’s missed this so much. Missed the way Jiyong can just fold himself into Seunghyun, like he’s always been there, like this has always been his place in the world. The kiss itself is gentle, but Seunghyun can feel the ache, the desperation, and he pulls Jiyong closer, because if he can’t figure out how to give Jiyong what he wants, the least he can do is take away everything he can.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when they pull apart. He can feel the ghost of Jiyong’s breath of his lips, the light touch of his nose to his.
“I love you,” Jiyong says. “I swear to God, I love you. Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“I can’t,” he says, desperate. “You--Jiyong, you’re so talented and you’re going to achieve so much. You deserve someone better.”
“I deserve you,” Jiyong answers. “God, hyung, how can you even--I don’t want someone else. No one is better than you.”
“That’s not true,” he protests, but Jiyong silences him with a hard kiss, one that pushes Seunghyun back, until Jiyong is straddling his lap and his hands are running through Seunghyun’s hair, tugging gently at the ends, making Seunghyun’s mind blissfully blank. “I don’t,” he tries again.
“You do,” argues Jiyong. “I swear you do. I’m going to make you understand, okay? I promise. I promise I won’t leave, no matter what you say when you’re scared. I’m going to make you see how special you are, hyung. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. You’re the best thing I’ve ever head, and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to walk away when I knew you needed me.”
“No,” he says. “No, Jiyong.”
“Do you love me?” Jiyong asks. “Do you love me, yes or no?”
“God,” he nearly chokes out. “Yes, yes, you know I do.”
“Okay then,” Jiyong says.
“Okay,” says Seunghyun and kisses him again. “Okay.”
And he knows it’s not going to end here. Everything isn’t just going to fall into place. It’s not going to go as smoothly as either of them would like, but it’ll go, and Seunghyun--he’s scared, yeah, but he thinks, maybe, he can do this. For Jiyong. He’ll try, anyway, because he’s tired of being a coward, tired of regrets. He wants to try this, properly, without defenses, without expecting the worst. He wants the best for Jiyong, and by God he’ll do whatever it takes to give him that.