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He was staring again.
This wasn't unusual, exactly. Choi Seunghyun was finding himself staring a lot lately, and he could only be grateful that no one seemed to notice. Of course with the whirlwind tour, seemingly endless travel, and extra activities to boot -- filming whenever he wasn't touring, in his case -- everyone was too busy to notice if Seunghyun was being particularly introspective. He was a quiet person in general, after all, and no one paid any attention if he spent a little extra time gazing out of the plane window at the clouds below or staring blankly at the script he was supposed to be memorizing.
Daesung noticed, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he smiled one of those angel smiles the fans loved him for and went back to his book, or his conversation, or what have you. Then Seunghyun would be left with an uncomfortable uneasiness in the pit of his belly, a simmering that was just this side of jealousy, which he would forcibly shove aside as he redoubled his efforts to memorize the script, or write the lyrics, or what have you.
He was tired, and he was staring again.
The script was forgotten in his lap. The whir of plane engines was giving him a headache that was further fueled by exhaustion. The seat he had been occupying for the past three hours was starting to get uncomfortable. All of these things paled against the backdrop of Daesung's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he stared out the window and quietly sang along to the music playing from his mp3 player. Seunghyun swallowed against an unexpectedly dry mouth as he envisioned biting the tendon along the side of Daesung's neck.
"Hyung, tell me what you think of this." Seunghyun snapped to attention, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs as he tried to pretend he wasn't just thinking about mauling his dongsaeng. Jiyong slid into the seat next to Seunghyun and passed over a notebook, the page of which had been messily scribbled over in a mishmash of Hangul and Roman letters.
"Mm," said Seunghyun. He briefly wondered why Daesung had stopped sitting next to him on plane rides. Planes made Seunghyun a little motion sick, and back during their early days, Daesung always sat next to him and patted his hand whenever he looked green. Seunghyun was surprised by the intensity of the wave of nostalgia that washed through him.
As Seunghyun continued to look blankly at the band's leader and failed to take the notebook, Jiyong waved it in front of his face. "Hello? Are you in there?"
"Mm," Seunghyun said again, followed immediately by, "Oh, what?"
Jiyong sighed, the sound tinged with exasperation. "Tell me what you think of this." He plopped the notebook in Seunghyun's lap, careless, crumpling the script.
Seunghyun narrowed his eyes in annoyance before dropping the notebook back in Jiyong's hands. "Later. I'm trying to memorize my lines."
"You've been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes now."
"Memorizing." Seunghyun shifted in his seat, wondering if he'd been found out at last. Jiyong gave him an indecipherable look, then shook his head and returned to his seat without further comment. Seunghyun couldn't help the exhale of relief that escaped him.
He glanced at Daesung and almost jumped when he found Daesung watching him in return. Daesung smiled, warm and open, and Seunghyun barely managed a weak smile in return before the younger turned his attention back to the world outside. Seunghyun exhaled again, closed his eyes, and remembered.
---
The first time had been an accident. Things happened when six growing boys shared a dorm. One couldn't always hold oneself responsible, especially when alcohol was involved. Seunghyun always would tell himself that, no matter what followed. A small -- very small -- part of him always felt somewhat guilty about it. Not that Daesung ever complained, but did Daesung ever complain anyway? It was a little too easy to look back and feel like the wicked hyung protector turned predator.
Seunghyun had taken Daesung under his wing from the beginning. He had seemed so lost when he arrived at the dorms, determined to make nice with everyone with incessant smiling and bowing, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. Seunghyun understood. He was itching to run back home to his mother just as he had as a small child in school, but no one in the dorm knew that. To help quell the homesickness he was struggling against, he focused on Daesung instead.
They shared a dorm room. Seunghyun was closest friends with Jiyong, sure, but he couldn't deny that Daesung's presence made the room feel warmer, somehow. He couldn't understand how this country boy with small eyes and a too-big nose could unfailingly make him smile. Later, he couldn't understand how this country boy with the beautiful smile managed to consistently creep into his dreams. Later still, he couldn't understand how the thought of Daesung's scrawny frame moving fluidly through endless choreography, skin slicked with sweat, t-shirt clinging too tight, was enough mental fuel for him to get himself off with frantic, practiced strokes in the shower.
So really, it hadn't been a surprise when Seunghyun stumbled into the room, head swimming with alcohol, and tumbled into Daesung's bed. He could still remember the sleepy, "What is it, hyung?" that prefaced their first kiss. It was sloppy and off-center and too wet, but it had been a sweet prologue to what followed. One kiss turned to two, and two turned into lazy making out, Seunghyun sprawled across Daesung with one hand buried in his long hair. Where Daesung was shy, Seunghyun was dominant. Where Daesung was tentative, Seunghyun plowed full speed ahead, and it wasn't long before tongues brushed against each other, teeth sometimes clacking awkwardly while they tried to find the right rhythm.
Seunghyun still couldn't remember who acted first, but safe bets said it was probably him. All he knew was that somewhere along the way, their hips had started grinding, delicious friction sending sparks between them as erection brushed erection. Then his hand was inside Daesung's sleeping pants, all hesitation forgotten as he started to move with inexperienced strokes. He ignored his nervousness, ignored the voice in the back of his head that said they shouldn't be doing this, that he wasn't doing it right, and instead focused on Daesung's moans and the hitches in his breath. When the moans got louder, Seunghyun pressed his mouth to Daesung's and swallowed each one. It didn't take long before Daesung was a quivering mess beneath him, groaning a tortured "hyung" over and over as he came all over his sleep pants and Seunghyun's hand. Seunghyun had never felt such a strange rush of satisfaction.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long to get his own back. Daesung looked up at him, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, and smiled that damn beautiful smile. The smile only faded a fraction as Daesung murmured, "I don't know how--" and touched Seunghyun's hip.
"Just touch me like you would touch yourself," Seunghyun said, and the ridiculousness of acting like he was an authority on the subject was not lost on him.
Daesung was nothing if not a quick learner, and Seunghyun was not shy about giving direction. Later, he would feel mildly embarrassed at getting off so quickly, like a virgin who had never gotten a handjob, but at the moment he had no qualms about gritting Daesung's name out through clenched teeth as he spurted all over Daesung's hand not three minutes later.
With anyone else, maybe, it would have been awkward in the weeks that followed, but not with Daesung. Never with Daesung.
---
The second time, Seunghyun would never know who acted first.
Daesung just looked so damn happy to see him. A joyful, "Hyung, you made it!" followed by a too-quick hug and one of Daesung's patented smiles had melted Seunghyun's heart from the moment he set foot in the dorm's front door.
It had been about six months since Seunghyun had abandoned dorm life, much preferring his room and his house and, most of all, his mother. There had been some good-natured grumbling about how inconvenient it would be, and some less good-natured name-calling -- "mama's boy" would always haunt him later -- but overall it mostly worked. Jiyong would forever complain that the distance made Seunghyun more irresponsible, and that influenced the maknaes. Seunghyun showed up to dance practice late, blaming traffic, and Seungri started following suit. Seunghyun ditched dance practice early, blaming traffic, and Jaewook would yell, saying that if anyone needed the extra practice, it was the clumsy T.O.P.
"What's he the top of?" Jaewook sneered. "It certainly isn't dancing."
He missed Daesung. He missed sharing a room with him. He missed waking up to Daesung's bright smiles and warm tea. He missed a lot of things, but distance was safer. He always had to remind himself of that.
But Daesung looked so happy to see him. Warmth flooded through Seunghyun, and he pushed it away as he followed Daesung into the living room where the other three waited, sprawled on couches and surrounded by empty boxes. In the middle of the far wall stood a Christmas tree overflowing with brightly colored bulbs and flamboyant garland, no doubt Jiyong's handiwork. "Tada!" Daesung shouted, flinging his arms wide. "What do you think, hyung?"
"It looks good." Seunghyun smiled and ignored the twinge in his chest. He could have been here, could have helped. They could have waited.
"We saved the best for last." Daesung's warm voice cut through his melancholy thoughts. As if by magic, a bright pink bulb appeared in Daesung's hand, dangling in front of Seunghyun's face. "T.O.P" was painted across it in bold black letters.
Seungri snorted. "Sure we did. He shows up after we do all the work and gets the best for last speech?"
"Hey! Show some respect to your hyung," Daesung said with uncharacteristic venom. All eyes turned to him, and he turned back to Seunghyun to hide the faint blush that stole across his cheeks. "Aren't you going to hang it, hyung?"
Seunghyun took the ornament by the thin metal hook and stepped over boxes and empty wine bottles to stand before the tree. There was a bulb for each of them, each in their favorite colors with their stage names prominent in bright letters. His eyes immediately found Daesung's name, and with carefully practiced ease, he hung his ornament next to it. He glanced over at Daesung, who had followed him to stand nearby, and caught the smile that quickly flashed across Daesung's face. Words stuck in his throat.
The moment, which felt unexpectedly significant, passed and a glass of wine, courtesy of Jiyong, was shoved in his face. "Come on, hyung," Jiyong said, tugging him towards the couch. "Let's celebrate!"
So they did. Even Youngbae partook in the festivities, putting away more than his share of wine. They drank and laughed and carried on, and for the first time in a long time, Seunghyun felt like part of the family again.
Still, he was careful. Not that he never drank around Daesung since the Incident with a capital I, but the holidays made him feel vulnerable, and a vulnerable Seunghyun never failed to turn to Daesung for comfort. Today, wedged between Jiyong who never sat still and Daesung who never moved, pressed thigh to warm thigh, Seunghyun knew what kind of comfort he wanted.
"See what you're missing living at home, hyung?" Jiyong slurred, bumping his elbow against Seunghyun's and leering up at him.
"Right," he said.
"We could party like this every night," Jiyong persisted.
"We'd never get up in time for practice," Youngbae interjected, ever the responsible one, even drunk as he was. Seunghyun just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Seungri popped up behind the couch and draped his arms around both Jiyong and Seunghyun's shoulders. "You should listen to them, hyung!" he said, too loud. "It's not the same without you!"
"It isn't." Daesung was quiet, almost inaudible, but Seunghyun heard it as clear as if he had yelled it. He looked over, catching Daesung's glance and holding it. "It really isn't."
Seunghyun swallowed hard, unable to look away. Unable, at least, until Seungri jostled him back and forth, fighting to lure his attention to some lame joke he was telling Jiyong.
The night went on, and one by one, the bandmates drank their fill and wandered off to bed until only Seunghyun and Daesung were left lounging on the couch with matching glasses of red wine resting in their hands. Seunghyun was wrapping up some ridiculous story about his encounter with a rabid fan at the mall when Daesung jumped to his feet and hurried over to a small unopened box next to the tree. "Ah! I almost forgot one of the most important things," he said, picking up the box and resting it on the couch arm to open it. Seunghyun arched a curious eyebrow as Daesung pulled out this important thing: a branch of mistletoe sporting a red and gold bow at the stem.
"Where do you think we should hang it, hyung?" Daesung asked, and Seunghyun was positive that the sparkle in his eyes wasn't just from Christmas tree lights. "Over here?" He grinned and walked over to the arched doorway that led to their kitchen. Standing on tiptoe, he reached up and held the mistletoe in place, cocking his head to one side as he contemplated the location. Seunghyun would be lying if he said he didn't notice the strip of smooth skin revealed when Daesung's t-shirt hiked up. "Ah, hyung, I need your help to hang it. I'm too short."
Seunghyun was on his feet in a second, the glass of wine abandoned on the floor next to where he had been sitting. "You're not that much shorter than me," he murmured as he took his place at Daesung's side, reaching up to take hold of the mistletoe. Daesung smelled like wine and tea and Daesung, and Seunghyun felt his resolve waver.
And then they were kissing, sloppy and needy and fast, the mistletoe dropping to the floor as Seunghyun moved one hand to Daesung's waist and the other to fist in his hair. Seunghyun never would be able to tell who acted first. Daesung tasted as good as the first time and Seunghyun felt like he was falling and falling. Daesung's hands against his lower back, slipping under the layers of his clothes to rest against the forbidden planes of his skin. Daesung's tongue in his mouth, running against teeth and tongue and lips. Daesung's lean body, hard muscles the result of many long hours in the gym, pressed against his in the most delicious of ways. It was all too much and Seunghyun was drowning.
Somehow they managed to stumble down the hall to Daesung's room. The journey was punctuated by routine smacks against the wall, the two unable to pull apart long enough to move more than a couple of feet at a time. When finally they made it to the room, Daesung kicked the door closed behind him and pushed Seunghyun backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he fell to sitting. Daesung was on his knees in a second, pushing Seunghyun's thighs apart so he could take his place between them and looking up at the elder for permission that was readily granted.
Seunghyun could only watch as Daesung fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans, his mind too blurry to offer any help. He only had a moment to feel embarrassed before Daesung's hand was inside his boxers, fingers brushing his sensitive skin and sending a shudder of pleasure running through him. After a few strokes, Seunghyun didn't even care that Daesung was working his jeans down over his hips, pulling his boxers with them, moving aside so he could slip both down to his ankles. When the tip of Daesung's tongue brushed against the head of Seunghyun's cock, it was all Seunghyun could do to squeeze his eyes shut and hope that he didn't embarrass himself by coming thirty seconds in.
"W-wait," he managed to groan, opening his eyes again. Daesung looked up at him questioningly and pulled away. "Come here," he added, face flushing as he patted the bed next to him. "I want to--if you're going to--that is--"
Daesung smiled and said nothing, but obediently left his post. With a gentle touch to the middle of Seunghyun's chest, Daesung pushed him until he was lying down, then arranged himself lying on his side next to him, feet by Seunghyun's head and face by his aching cock. "Better?"
"Almost," Seunghyun mumbled, hands fumbling at the catch of Daesung's jeans. He could never remember his hands shaking as much as they were. Even their debut stage for Se7en hadn't made him shake this much. After a couple of tries, he had Daesung's jeans and underwear shoved down his thighs. Biting his lip, Seunghyun grasped Daesung's erection at the base and stroked from root to tip, earning a low moan from the younger man. Then Daesung's warm lips were wrapped around Seunghyun's cock, sliding down and down until the length of him was encased in warm wetness, and Seunghyun's mind went blessedly blank.
Nothing about their movements was skillful. Daesung used too much suction and not enough pressure, and Seunghyun's strokes were erratic and lacking as much rhythm as his dancing. That didn't stop the sweet groans that escaped Seunghyun's lips or the jerks of Daesung's hips. Before long, Daesung was coming all over Seunghyun's hand and Seunghyun was coming in Daesung's mouth and neither of them could quite compose themselves for long minutes afterwards.
After they had cleaned up and rearranged themselves, Daesung's head pillowed on Seunghyun's shoulder and Seunghyun's arm protectively around Daesung's waist, Seunghyun stared at the ceiling and hummed contemplatively. "You still have to get me a Christmas present, you know," he said at last.
---
After that, they fell into a pattern. Seunghyun would never call it a relationship, exactly. It wasn't serious, he told himself over and over. They were just two guys who happened to like a lot of kissing and a lot more sex.
It wasn't easy. Hiding it from the others -- especially the astute Youngbae -- was always a challenge, and Seunghyun was never entirely sure if they knew and just kept quiet about it. Jiyong had this way of eyeing him sometimes that made him uneasy. Still, it never stopped them. Daesung's room in the dorm. Nearly every available surface in the dorm outside of Daesung's room. Seunghyun's room at his mother's house, and later his villa. A handful of times in the men's restroom at YG. There were a couple of occasions of rushed, breathless sex in clubs and restaurants. Hidden places after concerts were some of Seunghyun's favorites; Daesung was always so brilliant that it made Seunghyun's heart hurt, and he never could keep his hands off the younger when those fits took him.
He found himself unable to stop touching Daesung. Wherever they went, he tried his best to be at his side. During photo-shoots, he drifted next to Daesung while pretending it was an accident. It didn't matter if Daesung was occupied with other things. Seunghyun would stand beside him while he chatted with Youngbae and hold his hand. Or he would wrap an arm around Daesung's shoulders as he looked at his schedule for the day. Or he would wrap Daesung in a full-on back hug while Daesung discussed choreography with Jiyong. It didn't matter where they were or what they were doing. Seunghyun was drawn to Daesung like a magnet.
People commented on it sometimes, and the fans loved it. Seunghyun loved to come up with outlandish answers that left everyone unsatisfied.
"The world is heavy and I need to lean on Daesung to help carry my burdens," was one of his favorites.
It wasn't easy, and it wasn't anywhere as emotionally satisfying as he pretended it was. Seunghyun assuaged his guilt with the fact that Daesung never asked for more.
The night of Daesung's accident, everything changed, and the world never was put right afterwards.
He would never forget the late-night call from Jiyong or the frenzy of activity that followed. He didn't like to think about it, felt it was disrespectful to Daesung to dwell on it. But the accident had marked the end of whatever it was they had, and Seunghyun had a hard time being respectful when he felt so cheated.
It was a tough year. Jiyong's troubles followed soon after, and Seunghyun had wondered on more than one occasion if this was the beginning of the end for BIGBANG. He found himself thankful that he had a budding acting career to fall back on, and hated himself for thinking it. All of them had seemed to go their separate ways. Seunghyun spent more time alone and more time drinking, and the year got more and more miserable as he became more and more convinced that life pre-2011 was over.
They made it through, of course. He would always be grateful for that. Daesung started coming out to dinner with them again. Jiyong was furiously at work in the studio, determined to get them working on a new album. YG started hinting at a world tour, their first ever. Things finally started to feel right again, but not with Daesung. There was a new sadness in Daesung's eyes that Seunghyun couldn't take, and instead of trying to ease that sadness, he found himself avoiding Daesung more and more. He told himself he was doing what was best for Daesung and refused to admit that he just didn’t know what to say in the face of Daesung’s grief.
They were friendly, but that was it, and Seunghyun hated it.
---
"You're very quiet today, hyung," Youngbae said, slipping into the seat next to Seunghyun and startling him from his thoughts.
Seunghyun held up the script, his faithful protector. "Memorizing lines."
"It doesn't seem to be going very well."
"I'm very tired." It was a lame excuse. They were all running on fumes, having spent the better part of a year constantly on tour.
"Are you sure that's all there is?" Youngbae leaned in, peering at him, making him shift uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny. Youngbae had always been the perceptive one.
"Of course," he said with a forced chuckle. Youngbae didn't look convinced, but he relented, moving back to his seat. Seunghyun glanced at Daesung again, and sure enough, Daesung was gazing right back at him. This time, he didn't smile, and Seunghyun turned back to the window feeling sicker than ever.
I don't know how much more of this I can take.
---
Japan always made Seunghyun feel adrift. His Japanese was rudimentary at the best of times, and being awash in a language that was not his own always left him uncomfortable. He stared at Seungri and Daesung with jealousy as they easily conversed with the staff while the five of them got ready for their final show in Osaka.
All he wanted was to be at home in South Korea and not leave again for weeks. Months, if he could. He found himself daydreaming about his king-sized bed and a bottle or two of red wine. He pretended with valiant effort that these daydreams did not include a naked, sleepy, and sated Daesung lying beside him.
Only Daesung could worm his way into an introvert's fantasy of being locked away alone.
The performance was flawless, spectacular, but something in Seunghyun snapped that night. He was standing just offstage while Daesung floated over the audience, belting out "Wings" like his life depended on it, and he had never felt more like a lovesick teenager. That was all it took for the floodgates to open.
During the encore, Seunghyun poured a bottle of water over Daesung's head and laughed like a small child, ignoring Daesung's protests and private looks of confusion. When they left the stage, Seunghyun flung himself onto Daesung's back and rode him to the corridor where the staff waited to congratulate them. Even performance euphoria couldn't explain the rush of excitement that coursed through him as he clung to Daesung's strong back.
After the sing-song chorus of "well done" and "congratulations" and after everyone parted ways to clean themselves up, Seunghyun didn't mean to follow Daesung, exactly. Somehow he still ended up in front of the door to Daesung's changing room, fist poised to knock but hovering in midair while he tried to work up the courage.
"Hyung?" Suddenly Daesung was there, face-first against Seunghyun's raised fist, hand still resting on the doorknob. Seunghyun jumped and dropped his hand, looking every bit as guilty as he felt. "What's wrong?"
"Can we talk?"
"Of course, hyung. What's the matter?" Daesung tilted his head to one side, brows furrowing in concern.
Seunghyun shook his head. "Inside." He pushed past Daesung, who followed and closed the door behind them. Trying to fight the awkwardness, the nervousness, he stood in the middle of the room, facing the large lit mirror that lined the opposite wall. He could see Daesung over his shoulder, standing quietly with his head slightly bowed, and that was all he needed.
He spun around and marched over to Daesung, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing, pushing until Daesung's back was pressed to the door, and then he was kissing him like his life depended on it. He poured all the longing, all the frustration, all the pent-up emotion from almost two years into that kiss, and was even more shocked when he felt Daesung's hands on his cheeks, felt Daesung return the kiss with as much longing, as much emotion, as much fervor as it was given. It was like the first and second times, and all the times in between, and more, and Seunghyun was drowning all over again.
His hands fumbled at Daesung's waist, fingers clumsy against the ornate sparkling belt. After a few false starts he ripped it free, jerking it from the loops of his pants and tearing a few in the process. Daesung managed a weak noise of protest in the back of his throat before he was mirroring Seunghyun's actions, sending the button on Seunghyun's pants popping across the room, jerking the zipper down and pushing down the leather until it was bunched around Seunghyun's thighs. In another moment Daesung was in a similar state of undress, their mouths meeting hungrily as Seunghyun gripped both of their cocks together and stroked. The friction was delicious, but the moan that escaped Daesung was more so.
Daesung pulled away from Seunghyun's mouth, jerking his hips in time with the unsteady rhythm Seunghyun was falling into, and hooked a finger around the top hem of Seunghyun's shirt. He tugged until the fabric ripped, exposing the line of Seunghyun's collarbone. Seunghyun's head fell back as Daesung leaned down and latched his lips on that sharp jut of bone, sucking a vicious bruise there. Seunghyun buried his free hand in Daesung's bright blond hair and held him in place while he stroked faster, harder, with more purpose.
It was all too much. Seunghyun was on sensory overload thanks to the delicious friction of their rubbing dicks and the relentless sucking on his skin. With one spasmic jerk of his hips he came all over his hand and Daesung's cock, muttering Daesung's name like a filthy prayer. Daesung was only moments behind, his sweaty forehead pressed to Seunghyun's shoulder.
Seunghyun let them both go and Daesung sagged against him. He wiped his hand clean on his undershirt, heedless of the mess, and pulled both of their pants back up to some semblance of dignity. Everything was all out of order, and he silently cursed himself for acting first and talking later. But that was how Seunghyun always did it, and Daesung expected nothing less.
"Daesung, look at me." Seunghyun pressed sticky fingers to Daesung's chin, lifting his face so they could meet eyes. Daesung held his gaze with an unreadable expression. "I--" Seunghyun stumbled, like he always stumbled, and averted his eyes. Why was it so hard?
"I've missed you, hyung," Daesung said softly.
Seunghyun snapped back to attention, eyes wide. "You have?"
Daesung laughed, still quiet. "Of course I have. After--well, I know it hasn't been the same. But I missed you."
"Daesung, I--"
"No, let me finish." Daesung lifted a finger to Seunghyun's lips, silencing him like a child. "I missed you, but I can't... I can't go back to what we were before. I can't."
Seunghyun's heart dropped and that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach returned full force. This was it, then. This was what he had been afraid of for five years, happening at last.
"If we're going to do this," Daesung gestured between them, and Seunghyun didn't need any additional explanation to figure out what he meant, "we're going to do this. I can't take another five years waiting for you to make up your mind, waiting for you to decide that it's me and no one else. It's me and no one else, hyung, or it's not me. You have to make up your mind."
Everything slotted into place, like a puzzle piece that has long been upside-down finally turned right. Seunghyun pulled Daesung to him, hugging him fiercely, not convinced he could ever make himself let go.
"It's always been you, Daesung," Seunghyun whispered. "Always."