Pairing/Characters: G-Dragon/Seungri, the rest of Big Bang.
Notes: Happy...really late...birthday Dione? This is really terrible haha. Really. Forgive me. D: ilu? ♥ Okay, really though. I just. Idek. Ugh. Sorry.
Summary: In which Jiyong is not harassing anyone and Seungri does not have a crush on anyone. (Only one of the above statements is true.)
“You’ve got a lot to live up to,” Jiyong tells Seungri flatly, once the cameras are turned off. “Welcome to the – my band.”
And Seungri, being the bright boy that he is, doesn’t miss the subtle accent, hears the unsaid threat.
“Yes sir,” Seungri says, saluting like this is the military (which probably isn’t too far of a stretch, all things considered). “Whatever you say, hyung.”
Jiyong only gives Seungri an appraising look, before smiling and pounding his shoulder. “Hope you can do it, teenager,” he says, and it almost sounds encouraging so Seungri doesn’t point out that Jiyong’s only a teenager too, no matter how old he thinks he is.
Seungri has to grudgingly admit that okay, yeah, fine, maybe Jiyong is just a little bit of a genius. However, when Jiyong asks him for what seems like the fifteenth time that day what Seungri thinks about his lyrics, maybe he should change that line a bit, it messes up the rhythm, what do you think, magnae?, Seungri thinks about taking Jiyong’s carefully scribbled notes and just tearing them all up.
“I don’t know,” he finally says. He also resists the urge to point out that Jiyong knows that Seungri wouldn’t have known. “Whatever you do will probably be fine, hyung.”
“Thanks for the help,” Jiyong says, eyebrow raised, and it’s hard to miss the blatant sarcasm. “I’ll just ask Seunghyun-hyung then.”
Yes, Seungri thinks, annoyed. Just go ask hyung. You know as well as I do that I’m not good at this. Instead, Seungri grits his teeth, forces a smile for Jiyong and sing-songs, “Whatever you want, hyung!”
Jiyong turns away to find Seunghyun and Seungri is so annoyed because he’s pretty sure Jiyong was just making fun of him again that he snaps at Youngbae when he accidentally trips on his sweater.
“God, hyung!” Seungri shouts. “Can you please put your stuff away? Someone could be seriously injured, you know!”
“Yah,” Youngbae calls from the next room. “Yah, it’s not my fault you’re like, twelve and can’t talk to Jiyong without totally losing your cool.”
Seungri sputters indignantly for a few seconds – Youngbae makes it sound like he’s some kind of loser teenage girl or something. “I am not twelve!” He finally shouts back lamely. “Also, I am a great conversationalist, thank you very much!”
And then he hears Seunghyun and Jiyong trying out songs in poetic harmony in the room next door and Seungri glares at Youngbae’s offending sweater as if everything were its fault.
“Alright, look, whatever,” Jiyong finally says after Seungri’s fifth take. “You’re not hitting the note; it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. You’ll only ruin your voice this way.”
Fuck, Seungri thinks angrily, and he almost has to blink back tears. It sure as hell is not fine, he wants to say. He settles for (and not without a hint of desperation), “Look, please, hyung, let me just try it one more time, I think I can get it.”
Jiyong runs a hand through his hair, a habit that usually means he’s thinking about it, but he stands firm on his decision.
“Don’t worry about it,” he repeats, and Seungri wants to throw something. “Look, we’ll just switch some of yours and Daesung’s lines.” He pauses, pats Seungri on the shoulder and Seungri wants to punch Jiyong in the face because he can do this. “Really, don’t worry about it. Just go get something to drink.”
Seungri brushes off the hand on his shoulder angrily, stalks past an almost apologetic Daesung, and looks away when he sees Seunghyun trying to catch his eye.
Outside, Seungri has to take a few, deep, calming breaths before he bursts into tears or something equally embarrassing. He knows he’s not the best singer in the group, but no one’s ever needed their lines switched before. What the fuck, hyung, he thinks angrily. He’s done harder songs than this before and he definitely could’ve done this one. Shame is replaced by anger is replaced by embarrassment is replaced by anger again, until Seungri doesn’t even know what he wants to do – yell at Jiyong or apologize for storming out.
Youngbae comes out to check on him, but goes back in when Seungri shakes his head, tight-lipped.
Five minutes later, Jiyong comes back and he’s got a softer look on his face than usual.
“What do you want,” Seungri says, not looking Jiyong in the eye.
“Nothing,” Jiyong shrugs. “Just wanted to check up on you. Make sure you haven’t killed yourself or taken up drinking or something drastic like that. You never know with teenagers.”
“Excuse me,” Seungri snaps. “Like I’m that stupid.”
“Well, good,” Jiyong replies. “I know you’re not.”
Seungri recognizes a backhand compliment when he hears one, and just because it’s Jiyong, it subdues him, slightly.
“I could’ve done it -” Seungri starts angrily, but trails off when he sees the no-nonsense look on Jiyong’s face.
“You could’ve, sure,” Jiyong says, “but today, you didn’t. And if you can’t do it today, I don’t know how well you’ll do in the future. I’m not risking it, Seungri-yah.”
Seungri breathes in slowly, closing his eyes. “Okay hyung, fine. Whatever,” he finally says. “Just don’t regret it later when your fans like me better instead because they found out you’re abusive and mean.”
Jiyong snorts, rolling his eyes. “You wish, Seunghyunnie,” he says cheerfully, and when Seungri sticks his tongue out, Jiyong says, “You did your best.”
Seungri wrinkles his nose at Jiyong, and follows him back to the practice room, where Daesung seems to have gotten a pool up with all the staff members and the rest of Big Bang about what Jiyong’s doing to Seungri.
“I’ll bet you lunch for a week,” Daesung, egged on by Seunghyun, is telling their sound guy who doesn’t look convinced yet, “that Seungri won’t come back innocent anymore.”
When Seunghyun nods gravely, Seungri splutters and Jiyong clears his throat loudly.
“What the hell,” Seungri swears violently at the same time that Jiyong asks, “Daesung. What do I look like to you?”
“Oh,” Daesung says, and it is amazing how a man so close to death can look so lively. “Hey, uh, hey Seungri, Jiyong. I’m glad, uh, glad you’re back.”
The first and only time Seungri tries his hand at songwriting ends with him bleary-eyed and barely awake at 4 AM, staring down at his paper and feeling like he is in high school again.
“Why are you up?” Seunghyun asks, walking in and squinting. “My God, I thought only Jiyong and Youngbae did this ridiculous creative artist staying up late thing. No wonder you have such bags under your eyes. What are you writing anyways?”
Seungri screams, and throws himself forward. Seunghyun’s eyebrows are raised so high at this point that they’re not even visible.
“It’s – it’s – it’s um, it’s a letter for my mother!” Seungri covers up quickly.
Then he rips the letter into little pieces and either stuffs the pieces in his mouth or into his coffee cup.
Seunghyun backs away very, very slowly, hands raised. “Well,” he says drily. “I’m really glad you treat letters to your mother so well.”
Just as Seungri is thinking of an appropriately scathing and angry retort, Jiyong walks in yawning. “What’s the party for?” He asks brightly, taking into account Seunghyun’s pink pajama pants and the many sugar packets littered around Seungri’s cup of extremely milky coffee.
“Nothing,” Seungri and Seunghyun say at the same time, Seungri’s response rushed and coupled with a glare at Seunghyun, Seunghyun’s lazy and amused.
A pause as Jiyong looks between the two of them slowly, and then – “Seunghyunnie,” Seunghyun tells Jiyong seriously, “treats his mother exceptionally well. He is especially diligent in the letters he sends home.”
Seungri flushes when Jiyong raises an eyebrow and shoots a confused look at Seunghyun. Fuck you, hyung, he mouths to Seunghyun, scowling when Seunghyun only smiles innocently and wiggles his fingers before retreating to his room.
“Don’t ask questions, please,” Seungri pleads when Jiyong looks like he’s about to say something. “Hyung just likes embarrassing me.”
“Well, okay, whatever floats your boat,” Jiyong says, shrugging. He picks up Seungri’s cup of coffee and before Seungri can formally warn him of how the cup’s become his personal recycling bin, Jiyong’s coughing and giving Seungri horrified looks. “Have some coffee with your milk and paper, why don’t you,” Jiyong says.
Seungri tries, and desperately fails, to not laugh at the pained look Jiyong gives him as he tries to spit out the soggy paper in his mouth.
“This is what you get for taking my things without permission,” Seungri tells him, still laughing.
“Brat, who bought you this coffee?” Jiyong complains, clattering around for a new cup.
Seungri pauses and thinks for a moment.
“I don’t actually remember,” he confesses, but before Jiyong can look too smug, Seungri quickly adds, “but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you. Probably manager-sshi.”
“Well,” Jiyong says, pauses, and then deflates. “Okay, yeah, probably. Anyways,” he says quickly, “why are you up? It’s pretty late, and we have a shoot tomorrow, you know.”
“I couldn’t sleep?” Seungri shrugs. “It’s okay, I had like seven hours of sleep last night.”
“Don’t sixteen-year olds need like nine hours of sleep every night?”
Seungri picks up a sugar packet and throws it at Jiyong. “Very funny,” he comments drily. “You’re just so hilarious, hyung.”
“Sorry,” Jiyong says, and he’s laughing. “Couldn’t resist. You’re just so easy sometimes, Seungri-yah.”
A good portion of Seungri’s life (read: all of it) revolves around Big Bang and music and dance and what image he’s putting out today.
A good portion of that portion revolves around his bandmates and Seungri just finds it harder and harder to keep in touch with former friends and acquaintances when he doesn’t even have the time for himself.
A better portion of that portion revolves around almost-obsessively watching and trying to emulate Jiyong and Seungri can’t explain it at all, but apparently it happens.
“Oh my God,” Seunghyun calls it. “It’s like you have a crush on Jiyong.”
“Oh my God shut up don’t say it like that,” Seungri hisses back, looking around nervously just in case. “What’s wrong with admiring Jiyong-hyung?!”
“No, nothing’s wrong with it,” Seunghyun says, shrugging. “It’s just – you know.” He makes a face and Seungri just feels horrified, with himself and with everything. “It’s Jiyong. There are better people to, um, admire.” He pauses, and then adds – “For example, me.”
“Well,” Seungri begins lamely. “Well. Yeah. Okay, yeah, fine, you’ve got a point.” He quickly adds, “About the hyung thing. Not about you. Ew.”
Seunghyun punches Seungri, which starts a minor scuffle. Afterwards, Seunghyun tries to brush himself off with dignity while Seungri gloats. “Anyways,” Seunghyun says, and clears his throat. “You’ll be okay.” He also pats Seungri on the shoulder sympathetically, for good measure.
“What’s up?” Jiyong wants to know as he’s passing by. “Who’s going to be okay? Are you sick or something?”
Seungri shakes his head furiously and pleads with the gods of every denomination that Jiyong didn’t hear their conversation because oh my God, how awkward would that be.
“No one,” he claims, voice suspiciously high. “Hyung was talking about…our show tomorrow night.”
“He’s not sick,” Seunghyun had said at the same time. “But he needs some reassurance. Tell Seunghyunnie he’s going to be okay.”
Jiyong gives him a strange look at first and Seungri wants to die or melt into the floor or something, but then Jiyong pats Seungri’s cheek affectionately and tells him, in all earnestness, “You’re going to be fine, Seungri-yah.”
Seungri smiles weakly, tries to keep his cool in front of Jiyong, to refrain himself from grabbing Jiyong’s hand enthusiastically, and deadpans (albeit shakily), “Thanks for the encouragement, hyung.”
Jiyong plants an over exaggerated kiss on his cheek (like always), smiles brightly at him (like always), and there is nothing more attractive than an excited Jiyong.
Okay, Seungri thinks, somewhat despondently, okay. Maybe now, it’s serious.
“Your problem,” Daesung tells Seungri seriously. “Your problem is that you are a girl.”
Seungri’s mouth falls open, before he starts spluttering. “I – what – Daesung, what the hell?”
“Okay,” Daesung amends. “That was a bit rude of me. But you should listen to yourself speak, Seungri-yah.”
“It’s not like I, you know, I don’t know, want to date him or anything,” Seungri wails. “I just want him to, I don’t know. Something.”
“What?” Daesung prompts, “Corner you in dark rooms? Touch you inappropriately? Or, wait, I forgot – he already does that.”
Seungri glares at Daesung. “You are absolutely no help at all, hyung,” he says coldly.
“Anytime,” Daesung replies, beaming.
A minute of almost awkward silence passes between them before Seungri speaks up again, this time seriously.
“You’re okay with it? You don’t think it’s weird?”
Daesung sighs, turning to Seungri. “It is,” he confesses. “It is, and I just don’t know how well I’m going to get used to it if anything happens.” He pauses, mouth twisted thoughtfully. “But, well, you’re Seunghyun and Jiyong is Jiyong and if anything, I could learn to get used to it.”
“Thanks Daesung,” Seungri says, touched. “I won’t ask for more.”
“That’s good,” Daesung replies saucily, and then winks. “I’m sure Jiyong-hyung wouldn’t mind giving you more though.”
“…That’s disgusting,” Seungri informs Daesung calmly.
(In between worrying about Jiyong and having regular therapy sessions with Daesung, Seunghyun and Youngbae and all the promotions they’ve done, Seungri realizes he doesn’t have the goddamn time for this.
“I don’t have the time for this,” he says suddenly one day, unexpectedly angry. “This is such a waste of my time.”
“What?” Jiyong asks. “What the hell are you talking about, magnae? You’re so weird.”)
“Hey, hyung,” Seungri tells Jiyong one day, right before a Music Core performance, just as Jiyong is fiddling with his microphone and tightening his shoes.
“Hmm?” Jiyong makes a noncommittal sort of noise, still distracted.
“Hyung, I like you,” Seungri says bluntly. “In, you know, in that way.”
Jiyong looks up at Seungri, searching his face for the truth. When Seungri doesn’t waver, Jiyong asks suspiciously, “Are you pulling a prank on me? Is this a joke?”
“It’s not,” Seungri says, shaking his head. Impulsiveness gives him courage when he repeats, “I’m not. I’m serious.”
“Oh,” Jiyong says simply. “Okay. Okay, Seunghyun.”
“Okay,” Seungri repeats, and if he had known it would be this easy, he wouldn’t have worried as much as he did. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks, hyung.”
“Sure thing,” Jiyong says, and slides a hand around Seungri’s neck, kissing his cheek with a little more sincerity than usual.