Summary:

The thought scares him. Because he wants so little, yet so much. Because what he wants probably not what people expect him to do.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

Chapter Text

"I fucked up," Jiyong says. There are walls he's breaking and although Youngbae can't see him, he feels so bare, so naked. "So bad."

"You're not calling me to tell me about that, Jiyong."

"No, I'm not," he shakes his head. You know about that already. Morning comes through the window, people start owning the street with buzzing conversation. In front of him, his coffee stands on the table untouched. "I'm calling you, that's all."

There were years when they tried hard to figure out about each other. Then there were years when they didn't even need a conversation to understand.

Youngbae sighs. "How bad now?"

"On what scale?"

"That you might cry?"

"That I won't," Jiyong hides his face with a hat when a young couple passes by his table. Sitting in a coffee shop is definitely not an ideal place to discuss his heart but Jiyong's too fed up to go anywhere else. "That I can't even cry anymore."

"That's bad," Youngbae tells him; sadness plays in his tone of voice, he doesn't even try to hide it anymore.

"He didn't even want to hear me out."

"Seungri will," it almost brings a smile to Jiyong's face, if only it's not after four years of him running away from love. "He always does."

"He doesn't want to anymore, Youngbae."

"Maybe just not now, Jiyong."

"Time is ticking."

"Then run after him," Youngbae says. Jiyong forgets to calculate the time difference and that he realizes it must be late over Youngbae's place –or not, he doesn't really know where his bestfriend is –guilt finds its way to his stomach. "Run after Seungri."

"I should've done that."

"You can start now, right now."

"Isn't it too late?"

"Jiyong," the married man sighs, again. "Run. Love."

***

"You can't keep doing that."

"Doing what?" Jiyong scratched another lines on the paper, his nails were getting rotten due to the bites.

"Trying to break him."

Jiyong rolled his eyes. It's been 20 hours of sweating and squeezing his brain, he didn't feel like having ridiculous talk with anybody, let alone Seunghyun. The older man was already considered lucky Jiyong didn't give a shit about him pacing back and forth around the studio –Seunghyun called it dancing –for almost an hour now. Youngbae had excused himself as soon as Jiyong was done with him and Seungri was sleeping, sprawled on the sofa, mouth open and snoring softly.

"If there's anything I want to break, it's probably your legs."

"Nu-uh," Seunghyun started throwing crumpled papers at the maknae so Jiyong slapped him. "I'll be mad and refuse to write. You will need my lines."

"Then fucking give it to me?" Jiyong hissed.

"Play nicely, Jiyong."

He threw his pencil at him but Seunghyun managed to dodge it. "That was me being nice."

Seunghyun yawned as he slumped down beside Seungri. The younger man was jolted awake, eyes scrunching as he adjusted to the light. "I was just trying to be hyung."

"You're five, you can stop trying. That's why we have Daesung and Mama Bae."

Seunghyun pouted. "Ha ha funny."

Jiyong snatched the paper from Seunghyun's hand. "Go home, you look like shit."

"Have you seen yourself?"

"Lots," Jiyong kicked him playfully and Seunghyun rewarded him with a jab on his shoulder. "I just need to add your part then we're done."

"I'm done," Seunghyun pointed to the maknae who was slowly drifting back to sleep. "Take him home."

"Can you do that instead?"

"No," Seunghyun shook his head. "You're the leader."

"I thought you finally got sense to act like the oldest member?"

"Yeah, but maknae is yours."

Jiyong's head shot up to look at him. Seunghyun was eyeing him in amusement, mischievous smile played on the corner of his lips and Jiyong suddenly felt small. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That he is yours and you shouldn't try to break him."

"Here we go again. Stop saying things that aren't true."

"Everyone with eyes can see that, Jiyong. You're pushing the kid to his edge."

"Why would I do that?" Jiyong growled. His hair was sticky with sweats and it's uncomfortable.

"Because you like it? I don't know. You have something there in your head that's against falling."

Jiyong swallowed and cursed lightly at the weather. "Why would I against it?"

Seunghyun stared at him for a minute that Jiyong thought he would say something, but in the end he just shrugged. "See you tomorrow."

"Hyung?" Seungri's voice was thick with sleep as Jiyong watched Seunghyun's retreating back. "What time is it?"

Jiyong didn't answer because the fear in his heart screamed thunder that's so loud.

I'm not falling...down, apart, or in love.

***

As much as he's a pro in writing love songs, Jiyong is also lost about loving.

It's a cage, he remembers telling himself when Seungri looked at him with eyes gleamed in tears of joy as they celebrated the maknae's first win as solo. Don't get trapped.

He still finds it odd, still mesmerized by how years went by and his heart could barely register days passed other than wondering what Seungri would do or what Seungri might say.

I miss you, Jiyong admits to the air accompanying him in solitude, just as what he had done since the day love walked away from his front door.

Love is not Jiyong's forte but he doesn't know how to give up either. Which is strange because Kwon Jiyong understands that some things just aren't meant to be. Sometimes he just have to give up, surrender to inability of changing things, and move on.

I should let him go, I've let him go, Jiyong whispers eventhough inside he knows he couldn't.

His thumb lingers on the screen, doesn't even hesitate when he taps on call menu and Seungri's number. He waits, and waits, and waits and nobody picks it up. Jiyong tries again. Once, twice, thrice, by the fourth he should've known already that he must give up.

In the cold of his hotel room, love is still growing and nothing Jiyong can do about it.

***

"Don't you dare looking at me like that," Dami dropped her bags as soon as she closed the door. She wore latest trend from head to toe but her eyes were angry. "Don't you dare."

Jiyong crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. "I won't."

"Stupid," her voice resonated briefly through the house. "You're stupid."

"I am," the younger admitted. "That's the smartest thing I've ever done."

"By hurting yourself?"

"Does it matter?"

Dami bit her lip, tears were choking her. "It matters to me. You matter to us, Jiyong."

"Mom and Dad will understand."

"Not them," she took his hand in hers, squeezing so them both would be braver. "Seungri."

Jiyong didn't need to wonder how his sister knew. They grew up together and there were a lot of things Jiyong had failed to cover up recently. A lot.

"Seungri is not part of it anymore."

"Part of what? Your brain game?" Dami spat out, rage and sadness were thick in the air. "Is it a game for you?"

"Noona," Jiyong looked at her. "It was supposed to be just a game."

***

"He's probably sleeping," his manager shrugs. "He's always busy."

Jiyong nods. "Perhaps."

"You want me to check on him?"

"No, it's okay. Thanks for the car."

"Anything else I can do for you?"

Jiyong shakes his head. "Do I have anything to do today?"

"No, nothing. Tomorrow though, you have appointment."

"I do?"

"Yeah," his manager laughs. "With Choi Seunghyun, who called me this morning to add his name on the list or else he'll just rudely show up."

"He could just call me? He didn't even send me text or something!"

The manager shrugs. "That's part of his antic, I suppose."

"Maybe," Jiyong sets the car keys on the table. "I'm sorry I messed up."

"You didn't. Please don't."

"I didn't see media anywhere when I was drunk. But probably –"

"I got it covered up. Daesung helped a lot."

"Ah," Jiyong's eyes cast down in shame. "I'm sorry."

"Jiyong," there's patience that didn't wear down through the years. "Maybe you should just let it be."

"What?"

"Whatever you want."

The thought scares him. Because he wants so little, yet so much. Because what he wants probably not what people expect him to do. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Think about it."

***