“It’s art.” Seunghyun had said once, his voice low and calm as he tried not to disturb the quiet of the room.

“He gets so wound up and stuck on the words running through his head that he needs to find a different way of getting them out.” Youngbae had said on a different day with a shrug of his drawn-on shoulders.

Daesung had never quite understood the urge that Jiyong seemed to have to write on people, and had, on more than one occasion, asked why. The two oldest members of the group had been very kind in their explanations, but they still weren’t very satisfying, and when he’d first asked, two years into their career…well, he’d been rather afraid of offending Jiyong.

Daesung had observed the phenomenon for going on 5 years now, and it was still just as perplexing as to him as it had been in his youth. Jiyong, for one thing, was rather picky about who he wrote on, but also still aware of how uncomfortable different people might be with being written on. He’d never written so much as a word on Seunghyun, for example, nor had he ever tried; but he wrote on Youngbae’s arms and back and hands without even seeming to think about it.

Jiyong wrote on Seungri sometimes, too. He’d write on the younger boy’s arms and hands and if Seungri was being particularly obnoxious he’d switch from the washable markers he always used to a sharpee and would start again. He even wrote on his own arms and hands. He’d never tried to write on Daesung, though.

It wasn’t that Daesung was jealous, per se, because who really wanted to have marker all over their arms? No, he wasn’t really jealous, he just wondered if it meant that Jiyong didn’t find him interesting. A lot of the lyrics written into the other members’ skin had gone on to become songs for their solos; the only song Jiyong had ever really written him was a trot track that was too upbeat to have been forcing itself out of the leader’s mind so intensely that only seeing it on skin could make it stop.

At about the time he realized that Jiyong might not find him interesting, he started to wear less clothing around the studio. It wasn’t a totally conscious choice, and it wasn’t like he was wandering around : he’d just taken up the same loose sleeveless shirts Youngbae always wore. He likes to think it was a gradual change, especially as he got more fit and his arms and stomach tightened considerably more than they had ever done before; but he knows that the two situations were related and he tries not to think about it too much.

He has his arms crossed on the table in front of him, his head resting on them, when Jiyong lets out a frustrated sound and throws his pen onto the table. The pen bounces a few times and Daesung watches, amused, as it bounces off the edge of the table. Jiyong whines in frustration again, but doesn’t try to retrieve his lost pen.

They’d been working rather long hours for the last few weeks; putting in time recording, practicing, dancing, and just sitting through hours of meetings. They were all a little burnt out, so it wasn’t really a surprise that Jiyong was having a small fit.

“You’re laughing at me.” Jiyong says with a pout, and Daesung, who had most definitely not been laughing previously, starts to laugh. Jiyong scowls at him and, with a hand so covered in rings that it seems impossible that he should be able to write with it, shoves Daesung’s arm.

“Hey!” Daesung shouts, a smile still on his face. Jiyong sticks his tongue out at him before letting out a sigh.

“There’s so much…” He starts to say, but then trails off with a huff. He leans forward against the table and Daesung keeps quiet, eyes following the movement. When he’s silent for a few minutes, Daesung closes his eyes and gets more comfortable in his chair.

The second his eyes are closed, Jiyong turns toward him. He squints his eyes as if he were scrutinizing the younger man next to him. He takes a moment to look at Daesung like this before relaxing his eyes and biting his lip. His eyes trail over the bicep facing him, to the shoulder hidden very poorly by the sleeveless shirt Daesung was wearing, down to the elbow resting close to his very own face.

He sits up suddenly, his eyes trailing from the elbow, back up to the shoulder, and then down to the exposed side. Daesung had no tattoos on his body, and his skin was clear and smooth; Jiyong didn’t need to see it now to know that much about the man. Jiyong bites his lip again, wondering if it would be a bad idea to give into the itch in his fingers that calls for his markers.

Slowly, because he’s never done this to Daesung before and he’s a little worried it will be weird for many more reasons than he’s able to think about at the moment, he reaches into his bag and grabs a handful of markers from the bottom. He uncaps the red and leans forward, his eyes focused on the curve of the bicep leading up to the shoulder and then over to the back. For a moment, a short moment, he forgets that it is Daesung that he’s leaning over, marker in hand. The curves and lines of his shoulder are remarkably similar to Youngbae’s, despite him being a bit taller.

This thought makes it easier for him to lean in and make the first of marker against shoulder. He’s still too far away to write properly, but a part of him is waiting for Daesung to stiffen and pull away, and he doesn’t want to make a mess when it happens.

Jiyong had been quiet for long enough that Daesung had fallen into a half-doze, so it was a slight shock to have the cold tip of a marker pressed against his shoulder. His eyes flutter open and he blinks in confusion for a moment, but it was just long enough apparently, because then he feels the marker against his shoulder again. This is quickly followed by the edge of the hand holding the marker, and then the chair beside him is being dragged closer and the hand shifts.

“Daesung-ah” Jiyong whispers, and Daesung tries to turn his head to look at him, but fails. “You’re fine.” He says quickly, still writing. Daesung tries to guess what words are being inked onto his skin, but the writing is too small and his shoulder isn’t sensitive enough.

Daesung wonders if Jiyong had meant to ask him something before getting distracted, but he just mentally shrugs his shoulders and closes his eyes again. He was totally fine with Jiyong writing on him, especially now, as it gave him a real reason to be napping on the table in the studio; if Teddy asked why he hadn’t memorized the random lyrics that they probably weren’t going to actually use anyway, he could just shrug and hold out his arms as evidence. But secretly, Daesung was also rather pleased that Jiyong was doing this, because maybe it proved that the man did find him interesting.

Jiyong pauses for a moment, staring, almost unseeingly, at the red words covering Daesung’s shoulder and down along the shoulder blade. His eyes pause on the last word he’d written, his hand still next to it with the marker poised and ready to continue writing: wings. His fingers are still itching to write and his head only feels marginally less full. There is not much room left here unless he goes down Daesung’s side but his mind blocks that suggestion rather aggressively after his heart does a rather painful thump at the thought. He’s got to keep writing though because there is so much more to say…his eyes travel over to Daesung’s right side and he bites his lip; wings.

He places the re-capped red marker on the table and grabs the blue, pulling the cap off as he stands up to move behind Daesung and lean over his back. He pauses for a second, his eyes trailing over the exposed skin of Daesung’s shoulder, before lowering the marker to continue writing. The words are coming freely again, and he needs to place his free hand against Daesung’s back to hold himself steady as he writes.

Daesung feels Jiyong switch sides, and feels him leaning into his back as he starts to write across his right shoulder. He wonders what the words are and if they make sense. He remembers one time, after Jiyong had fallen asleep from exhaustion, looking over what he’d written on Youngbae’s back. The color hadn’t been consistent, it seemed like Jiyong needed to switch colors to stop from becoming stagnant. There had also been no uniformity in size or language used, though it had mainly been in their native tongue.

Mostly, Daesung remembered it being disjointed; like some kind of avant garde type of art that very few people would understand, but many could appreciate. With Youngbae, Jiyong would force the shirt up and over his head, and Youngbae would have to pull it all the way off while rolling his eyes. From the feel of it, Jiyong was only going for skin that was already exposed on his back: he found that very interesting.

Jiyong pauses a moment, tapping the of the marker against Daesung’s side as he tries to rearrange his thoughts. His eyes clear momentarily and he brushes a hand through his hair before patting Daesung on the back lightly. “This is okay, right?” he asks, his fingers tapping against Daesung’s back in time with the marker against his side.

Daesung lets out a chuckle and smiles. “I’m not so scared of you that I would let you do something I wasn’t comfortable with.”

Jiyong frowns at that, and the tapping becomes a little more frantic before he seems to calm himself down. Daesung wonders if he’s said the wrong thing, but doesn’t know how to fix it. Jiyong lets out a sigh. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asks, his voice low, as if speaking in a normal tone would ruin the moment.

Daesung sits up at that, causing Jiyong to have to lean back and stand up normally. Daesung turns to look at him, a calming smile on his face. “I was just joking, I’m not afraid of you.” He says it mostly because it’s the right thing to say, and is almost instantly rewarded for it with a toothy smile from Jiyong and a hand ruffling his hair. But he doesn’t really mean it because he’s most definitely at least a little bit wary of Jiyong; and that could be for many reasons but none of them really make much sense so he can’t exactly muddle his way through that kind of conversation.

So he keeps it to himself and lets Jiyong turn him back toward the table. He lets Jiyong maneuver his arms into the position that he wants them, and he watches as Jiyong grabs a purple marker and starts writing on his arm. Youngbae rarely speaks when Jiyong is writing on him, but then again, they’re usually busy doing things that require them to be silent so it’s really no wonder. Seungri is always complaining, and twitching, and now that Daesung thinks about it, he’s pretty certain Jiyong chooses Seungri simply because he complains.

“Why’d you switch colors?” He asks suddenly, quietly. He watches as Jiyong stiffens slightly, the marker pausing mid- on a word he couldn’t see.

Jiyong blinks a few times, his mind clearing only just enough to form an answer: “Blue wasn’t right.” He says, before looking back down at Daesung’s arm.

Daesung smiles at that, and closes his eyes again, missing the look that Jiyong gives him a couple of moments later. There was a blush on his cheeks as if he were embarrassed by the question, or the answer. But the truth was, and Jiyong was back to writing furiously as his mind mulled over the possible proper answers to Daesung’s question, he was flushing because it was Daesung who had asked and there was no other reason for the reaction.

But the answers to Daesung’s question were various, and all very hard to pinpoint. The mood of his writing, for one thing, was a reason why purple was better than blue right now. Also, maybe, something to do with how he wondered what purple would look like against Daesung’s skin… He could also mention that it was the lyrics themselves that leaned toward purple instead of blue: they were kind of a mix of the sad blue and the angry red he’d used previously.

He reaches the knuckle of Daesung’s middle finger and he pauses, lifting the marker and glaring down at the outstretched arm before him. Using just his fingers, he delicately moves Daesung’s right arm into a position that mirrors the left side, and then moves over to the left side and pokes Daesung’s head until he lifts it and frees that arm.

“This seems like a lot of work.” Daesung says as he settles his head on his other arm.

Jiyong hums lightly in both agreement and disagreement; his eyes already mapping out the trail of words that will snake up the arm in front of him. It was a lot of work to get Seungri to be the canvas, and he honestly wasn’t worth the effort unless Jiyong was feeling particularly annoying. It wasn’t difficult to write on Youngbae, because Youngbae barely moved and seemed to always know when Jiyong needed a different angle or different body part.

It’s ten more minutes of silence and writing before Jiyong sits back and carefully pushes Daesung’s left arm into the same position as the right. He stands up and moves around to stand behind Daesung and admire the work he’s put out.

He likes the symmetry of it, he decides, before pulling out his phone and taking a few pictures of Daesung’s back before moving to the right arm and then the left. When he’s done with the photos he sits down, patting Daesung on the shoulder as he does so. It’s an absent-minded gesture, something that he almost feels embarrassed of afterward except that it’s a normal gesture of his so it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

Daesung’s phone rings, startling them out of the silence they were sitting in. It’s Youngbae, and he wants Daesung to meet him at the gym, and Daesung feels a little sad to be leaving Jiyong alone so soon. “I’ll see you later.” He calls, smile on his face as he hoists his bag up onto his shoulder and walks out the door. He forgets the marker all over him until he reaches the gym, and then feels suddenly embarrassed…as if something a little more intimate than Jiyong writing on him had happened.

Jiyong watches Daesung leave, a small smile and a jaunty wave seeing him out of the room. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding since the phone call ended, and turns his eyes to the pictures on his phone.

The other difference, between using Daesung as his outlet instead of Youngbae or Seungri, seemed to be productivity: instead of half-formed thoughts and unrelated stanzas, he had a perfectly formed song, give or take some added flare. He sets the phone down and rubs the stiffness from his hands as he thinks about the song. It was perfect really…perfect for Daesung, and perfect for the new album.

He lets out a noisy breath and rubs at his eyes. If he is being honest with himself, which he hardly ever is because it wrecks his productivity levels and throws everything he does out of balance, then he knows he’s just stalling. He’s stalling his thoughts so that he doesn’t think about the smooth skin that runs from Daesung’s shoulder blade down to his hip… all of which was visible because of the sleeveless shirts he’s been wearing for the past two or three months.

He’s trying not to think about the fact that he can write on, touch, and look at the same places on Youngbae and never once think of it in any way that could be considered improper. There’s also the fact that pushing Daesung’s shirt up his back and over his head was far too stimulating for him to even consider, even with a marker in his hand and the intent being to have a larger space to write on. Because with Youngbae that didn’t matter, hell, with Seungri that wouldn’t matter! But he couldn’t do it to Daesung, just like he couldn’t write up on Daesung’s neck or down his sides. He couldn’t even consider it because the consideration would lead to bad behavior.

‘Bad behavior’, a term coined by Youngbae and Seunghyun simultaneously during a night of drinking, was what happened when Jiyong didn't pay attention to his actions and just let them happen. It was, essentially, what would have transpired had Jiyong’s mind not stopped him multiple times before Daesung had left. Bad behavior was acting on his impulses and not seeing if Daesung would like him to first. It was this conversation from six months prior that had made him pause to ask Daesung if what he was doing was ‘okay’.

He sighs and leans as far back in his chair as he can. Now that he’s being honest with himself, he can’t stop, and now he’s going to get nothing done.

~

“I didn’t think I’d left you alone with Jiyong for that long.” Youngbae says with a chuckle. Daesung laughs, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“I guess I made the mistake of falling asleep.” He replies, and Youngbae laughs harder.

“Yeah, that and the shirt…” He trails off slightly as they walk into the gym, his hand on Daesung’s shoulder as they go. “He won’t do it if you’re covered up.” He adds as they go through the door.

Daesung chuckles softly and breaks away from Youngbae to stretch on the nearest mat. “It was fine, Youngbae, you make it sound like he violated me.”

The smile on Daesung’s face reassures Youngbae somewhat, but he’s still feeling a little wary. “Well, let’s see what it is then.” He says, and comes up behind Daesung to read the writing on his back. “This is almost coherent.” He mutters after a couple of minutes, slightly surprised. The writing that Jiyong normally did on him was all word-vomit, so it was rather intriguing to see the control that the writer had commanded.

“Is it?” Daesung asks, turning his head to see what was written. It was an almost comical reaction and it made Youngbae smile again.

“Yeah, we’ll probably see it again soon.” He says, giving Daesung another pat on the back. “Alright, let’s get moving.” He says, and Daesung nods before moving on to start their workout.

Youngbae was thankful that Daesung just agreed and got right into the workout, because he really should have kept his mouth shut to begin with. Jiyong would probably kill him if he heard about how awkward he was being about the whole thing…but he worried and he couldn’t help it. Jiyong was, though he’d not admit it without some type of external force, very much attracted to Daesung.

This wasn’t really a problem, or at least it wouldn’t be a problem if Jiyong was a normal human being who acted normally. But Jiyong wasn’t normal, and he drew on people when his brain became too full and he rarely slept. There were times when Jiyong wouldn’t eat unless food was placed directly in his path and even then it wasn’t a given conclusion. He needed attention and care and that was all fine.

But Daesung wasn’t the same, and it made Youngbae uncomfortable and worried because Daesung was easy-going and agreeable and Jiyong acted without thinking far more often than not. It didn’t help that Youngbae also felt bad about not trusting Jiyong to control himself or Daesung to be able to handle himself. He felt really bad about that, because Daesung really could take care of himself, and Jiyong wasn’t some type of predator…

“Youngbae?” Daesung asks softly, a small smile on his face, and Youngbae wonders why it’s always there. “I’m going to head back to the studio before heading home. I forgot my phone.”

Youngbae laughs and claps him on the back good-naturedly, sending him off with a wave and a “don’t be so careless next time!” but he’s a little uncomfortable because there is no way that Jiyong isn’t still in the studio. He lets out a sigh and forces himself to calm down: Daesung didn’t need his help. Hell, he probably liked Jiyong back and there was nothing to worry about anyway.

Sufficiently calmed, Youngbae takes another deep breath and then finishes his cooldown.

~

Daesung had sort of hoped that Jiyong wouldn’t be in the studio when he got there. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to see the man, and he only vaguely knew why. He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten his phone, considering he’d definitely had it in his hand because Youngbae had called him. He should have assumed, however, that Jiyong would still be there, and probably wouldn’t leave any time in the near future.

During his workout with Youngbae, he’d been mulling over the interaction with Jiyong. Despite his outer calm, he’d been rather thrilled by the contact. Because he had been wishing for that to happen, probably since he’d first seen Jiyong pull out a marker to write on someone; but he’d kind of resigned himself to it never happening.

But it had. After three months of wearing these shirts with the subconscious hope that Jiyong would touch him…he did, and now he wasn’t certain what to do with himself. He pushes the door open and Jiyong is sitting at the table still, a laptop now before him.

“Sorry,” Daesung starts, and Jiyong jumps slightly in surprise, shutting the window he’d had up before turning to look at him.

“You’re the only person in the world that apologizes before you do something.” He says, a lazy smile on his face.

Daesung blushes, but smiles at him. “Sorry, I just left my phone here…” He says, and Jiyong rolls his eyes and grabs it from where it was lying next to his computer.

“You mean this?” He asks, his head tilting to the side as he holds it up. The action was a complete change from Jiyong’s previous demeanor, and he felt a little worried, so he stepped forward cautiously.

“Yes.” He says, and Jiyong nods, turning his head to eye the phone in his hand.

“What would you give me for it?” Jiyong asks, and Daesung is pretty certain that his mouth has stopped working. It takes him a moment to respond as a result.

“Uh, what do you want?” He asks, and he’s hoping that is the correct answer. Jiyong’s eyes seem to flash and a rather dangerous look crosses his face.

“Come here.” He murmurs, putting the phone down behind him. Daesung blinks a couple of times and then walks closer.

“Now what?” He asks, and Jiyong grins.

“How do you feel about ‘bad behavior’?” Jiyong murmurs, tilting his head to the side again, his hands slowly reaching forward.

Daesung takes in a deep breath and stares down at Jiyong with wide eyes. “I’ve never really…thought about it?” He says, but it’s more of a question.

“I have.” Jiyong responds, and then his hands have connected with Daesung’s arms and he pulls the younger boy closer. “And I think you might be okay with it.”

Daesung is quiet for a moment, and then his lips quirk up into a smirk of their own. “You might be right.” He says softly, and Jiyong pulls him a little harder and Daesung falls awkwardly into a chair.

“Good, I like being right.” Jiyong responds, his fingers tracing up the words on Daesung’s arms.