Summary:

"What if...," Seungri stares at the window. "...you didn't kick me out?"

Chapter Text

He was looking at him, waiting for scolding, instructions, corrections, except suddenly he wasn't. He was looking at him past beyond all the words flooding from his mouth.

He was looking at him and the world faded.

"Are you listening, Seungri?"

Seungri blinked. "Yes, yes I am."

Jiyong frowned at him. Beads of sweat trickled down on his cheeks. "You're spacing out, maknae."

Seungri braced himself for harsh words but it never came. Instead, Jiyong pulled him to stand up and patted his hair.

"Are you feeling unwell?" he asked eventhough he knew Seungri would never admit any weakness of him.

"No," the younger said. He didn't tell him how hard his heart thumping against his ribcage either. "I'm fine."

***

"What if...," Seungri stares at the window. "...you didn't kick me out?"

His middle name is crowd. In people, Seungri finds comfort; a hiding place for all his emotions. Often under the spotlight he finds himself soaring with fake laughter.

Solitary makes him think. But then again, that's what Daesung had told him to do.

He bounces on his feet, trying to shake his mind off of things he doesn't really want to think about.

"What if you didn't let me go?" he whispers to no one.

Just like that, his heart asks. Did Jiyong really?

"What if I never fell in love with you, hyung?"

Jiyong is the most beautiful what if Seungri cannot really stop wondering about.

***

"You actually like my jokes," Seungri grinned cheekily. Jiyong rolled his eyes and muttered ridiculous.

Seungri laughed. "Admit it, I caught you staring at me."

"I'm staring at you," Jiyong smirked and he did, staring at Seungri, two hands on the younger's cheeks, distance so close their nose barely touching. "I like staring at you."

"Why...is that?" Seungri didn't stand a chance to pretend he wasn't shaking.

"Because you're looking at me too," Jiyong pulled away.

"Everybody does that," Seungri shrugged. "You're G-Dragon."

"You're my number one fan."

"I am."

Jiyong patted his head. "Good. You're special."

Seungri beamed.

"I win the flirting game again," Jiyong pulled away, watching the younger male's smile turned to pout. "Why are you even seungri?"

"You can't win me in cuteness."

"No, Seunghyun hyung already did."

Seungri rolled his eyes. "He is the tallest three year-old. What's so cute about it?"

"Daesung in second place."

"He is," Seungri huffs in frustration. "Fine, I'm on third place."

"Oh? Says who?"

"You're not going to put Youngbae-hyung right after that Doraemon-hyung, are you?"

"No," Jiyong grinned. "I was going to put myself."

"What part about you is considered cute?"

"I don't know, you tell me," Jiyong's hand came to rest on Seungri's thigh; casually because it's a habit already. "You're the one pestering me anywhere with those panda eyes."

"Fine, I will stop doing that," Seungri knew better than to argue.

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes," Seungri reached for his abandoned phone. "Really."

"You can't," then lips were pressed against Seungri's, in a manner and warmth that took Seungri's breath away, his next word ended up against Jiyong's mouth. It wasn't rude. It was just quick; too quick for Seungri to figure out why because the next moment, Jiyong was already standing up and ready to leave for whatever life he had other than Seungri. "You won't."

Seungri didn't say anything because as much as he's Jiyong's, Jiyong was never his.

***

"Is there anything you want to tell me about?"

Jiyong was looking at the ceiling, at the blue blanket they used to fight for, at the table where they had played childish tic-tac-toe game last month, at Seungri's clothes, folded neatly in his suitcase; at anything but Seungri. "Nothing."

"Hyung," Seungri wasn't sure if there's anything left to hold; he's breaking to his end. "Not even goodbye?"

"No," but he's reaching for Seungri's wrist. "I can't tell you goodbye, you know that."

Seungri closed his eyes because he knew. Jiyong's parting ways would be documented in his songs, hidden in thousand lyrics, buried in a beautiful melody but never a word of goodbye.

And Seungri should've known that he wasn't an exception. That he wasn't the one.

"Then goodbye," his voice failed him miserably. He didn't care, why would he?

Jiyong finally looked at him and for a brief moment, Seungri forgot that they're parting ways. "I won't say goodbye."

But Seungri thought Jiyong had said it the loudest.

***

Seungri thought he had done everything to forget. He had tried his best to forget, to move on, to put what's past as past.

One he never tried was letting go.

Seungri thought he did. With constant thoughts of Jiyong, with constant heartbeats that missing him, he thought he was clinging too tight. He thought his mind was begging to stay.

But he didn't, it wasn't. All he had done was actually just standing there.

All the chanting to himself, mantras he put all over his steps to not to fall again was actually a rope to make him stay, if that even made any sense.

Dream.

Seungri just need to close his eyes and there are tons of pieces, gleaming and not, blinking and hot, awaiting to be touched. He didn't dare to do that for the past four years, always shaking his head, drowning himself in phone calls and appointments, making ridiculous excuses to put up walls between himself and his thoughts.

It's his way to move on and to make sure, that Jiyong would still be there, pushed to the back of his mind, never be his priorities again.

Or so he wished.

Once or twice in a month or even year, he'd allow himself to walk around, placing steps amongst the scattered hopes from his past, watching them reaching to be remembered by him. At night, he'd let the sea surface dragged him in, drowning him in jumbled thoughts.

But he didn't touch them. He didn't scoop them in his hands and piece them back together inside him, fitting the hole it dug before. He never got them back to the places they're supposed to be. It's scattered and stayed like that for years. Always in the same place; always in the same way Jiyong left it to be.

Seungri thought he was moving on in tiny steps; that for every piece he didn't remember anymore, he was forgetting.

He was just scared.

"Stupid," he mutters to himself, laughing at the creative mess he had done. If he puts them back together, will he stand a chance to break it by himself? To finally tell himself that he can also let go of Jiyong?

Whatever was broken.

He thinks of things he should've told him.

I love you, I miss you, I'm sorry, and Jiyong's favorite; I'm yours.

He thinks about the smile he didn't see anymore, about the black circles under Jiyong's eyes, about his stares that seemed dull.

About what had happened.

He can't think of how or when. As far as he can recall, Jiyong told him to go. He'd done anything to stay. Jiyong never said anything more. The night he asked Seungri to leave was the night he declared the love or whatever that might be because Jiyong used to resent of being in love.

Jiyong never said that he didn't love him. Never.

Seungri thinks he's going insane. For four years, he's been running from the question 'why'. He's been pushing back the thoughts that Jiyong might love him too at some point. He couldn't ask Daesung, or Youngbae, or Seunghyun, or anyone else, and least of all; himself.

Because Jiyong wouldn't answer that.

Was he too scared to ask because he'd understand the answer?

Because him too, would have no more reason to stay?

If Jiyong told him how it went wrong, how would it be?

What would them be?

Dream.

So he finally does. And it feels surprisingly warm and familiar.

Too familiar that he doesn't hear the buzzing from his phone.

***