If he took the time to think about it, this was all Seunghyun’s fault, and even more definitely Jiyong’s. Everything from the dangling lights to the pain in his back and legs and especially the fact that he is lying on the snow-covered ground: it's all their fault. He winces as he hears a door open and close, and forces himself to consider what got him to this point.

~

*The night before*

“Have you decorated your apartment yet?” Jiyong asks, leaning forward to steal the roll from Youngbae’s plate. They’re at a company dinner, which means that Jiyong is too anxious to manage eating off his own plate like a normal human. It was a weird trait, but one that he’d grown used to in his best friend.

He didn’t really blame him for being so anxious, either. As one of the leading producers, Jiyong had a lot to prove to people at these types of functions: namely that his age meant very little when it came to his talent. He shakes his head and steals Seunghyun’s roll, cutting it neatly in half and spreading butter on it while Jiyong picks his original roll apart with his fingers.

“No, I haven’t.” he mutters. This is a particularly sore topic, but those are the ones that Jiyong likes the most.

Jiyong grabs Youngbae’s fork and spears a piece of broccoli with it. “Why?” He asks, swirling the piece of broccoli in a pool of melted butter and gravy that had collected on one corner of the plate.

“You know why.” Youngbae says softly, trying to keep an edge out of his voice.

Jiyong’s brows knit together and he lifts the fork to point it at Youngbae’s face. Jiyong was already rather close to him, so the gesture had him leaning back to keep the vegetable from touching him. “I know why you say you aren’t putting them up, but there is nothing physically stopping you.” With a firm shake of the fork Jiyong removes it from his face and eats the piece of broccoli off the end.

Youngbae sighs and casts a look over at Seunghyun, hoping for some moral support. The lyricist merely raises an eyebrow and shrugs, causing Youngbae to lose all hope in this battle of wills. “I’m not going to put them up, Jiyong. I can’t do it…it reminds me too much of—“ He doesn’t get to finish because Jiyong slaps a hand onto his shoulder.

“I know you’re still pining, but it’s been a year, and you need to do something to help yourself move on.” Jiyong says, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was squatting in his chair like he was worried about his body touching anything, Youngbae might have really taken the advice to heart.

Unfortunately, Youngbae can’t take Jiyong seriously when he’s sitting like a small child. “It’s just some lights, Jiyong, I’m still celebrating Christmas.”

“You’re punishing yourself.” Jiyong says on a sigh, leaning forward again to stab something with Youngbae’s fork. “You’re not doing anything but making yourself less happy by not decorating for Christmas. You love decorating for Christmas.” He says, and he seems to be getting upset.

“Not as much as you like me decorating, apparently.” He mutters, and Jiyong sighs, dropping the fork and using his now free hand to flick Youngbae in the cheek. He sighs and picks up the fork, putting whatever Jiyong had speared onto it into his mouth.

“I think you’re scared.” Seunghyun says after a couple of seconds of silence, and Youngbae almost chokes on his mashed potatoes.

“Beg your pardon?” He chokes out, and Seunghyun smirks at him.

“You heard me. You’re scared.” He says, and Youngbae narrows his eyes at him and the challenge presented. “You’re scared that if you put up the lights you won’t actually be reminded of her and you’ll be angry that you’ve wasted your time worrying about it.”

“That’s stupid.” Youngbae scoffs, and Jiyong nods absently.

“I agree,” He says, and Youngbae smiles in triumph, only for that to be ruined only seconds later. “I think that he’s scared that if he puts them up he’ll realize that it’s really over with her and he’ll remember that he did this before he met her, and he can keep doing it now that she’s left.”

The words stung, a bit, and Youngbae lowers his eyes to the table as he shoves his plate away from him. He grits his teeth as the silence at the table washes over him, and then he looks up. They are being purposefully cruel, but they are also issuing him a challenge. A challenge that will give him the opportunity to prove them wrong. To prove to them that the holidays would always remind him of her and that he really did love her.

It’s too late to hang up lights when he gets home from the party that night. As he slips into bed, he assures himself that he will do it the next evening when he gets home at a decent time.

~

It’s snowing out.

It had started snowing at around noon, and by 2:00pm there had been enough snow on the ground for Seungri’s boss to decide that there was no reason for them to remain. Seungri’d left quite promptly after that, and so it is that he finds himself standing in the middle of his apartment, wondering where he went wrong in life.

His living room is decorated sparsely but elegantly; it practically screamed money and grace. This was a lucky thing, because those were the two things he was hoping to have his home scream. His Christmas decorations reflected this rather well, and he couldn’t be more proud of himself. All of this, however, does not help the fact that he’s bored and unable to really do much because of the snow. He takes in a deep breath and turns on the stereo, hoping to dance out his boredom

He’s a few hours in when he pauses for some water and realizes how hungry he is.

Seungri is not really one for cooking, and he’s a little disappointed by the fact that because of the snow he probably can’t order in. He lets out a sigh before moving into the kitchen to search for something to eat. He finds very little, and wonders briefly if that makes him less classy than he wants to portray himself as, before he decides that it is way classier to go out to eat. He smiles to himself as he boils some water and makes ramen; the only thing he really knows how to cook.

He considers feeling bad about eating ramen for dinner after such a good work out, but he can’t make himself care too much as he carries a bowl out to his favorite chair by the window. He sits down and lets his mind wander and his eyes wander with it. He is just getting good and comfortable when he hears a soft thump from what sounds like the roof. A couple of seconds later, he sees what seems to be a body fall directly in front of his window. He’s shocked for a couple of seconds, his brain whirring to catch up with the image he’s just seen.

Once it has fully processed he jumps up, placing his bowl on the side table before hurrying over to put his shoes on and head outside. He’s beside the fallen man in moments, and he blinks in surprise as the image of his upstairs neighbor, covered in snow and Christmas lights, registers.

“Are you okay?” He asks, after the shock has worn off. The man hasn’t moved, and his eyes are closed, and Seungri starts to fear for the guy’s life. “Should I call an ambulance?” He whispers frantically, more to himself than to the man before him.

With a groan, the man blinks open his eyes. “Please don’t call an ambulance.” He says, his voice low, and gravelly, and slow. Seungri kneels down beside him and holds out a hand.

“Do you want to sit up?” He asks, but the man shakes his head gently. “Alright, then in that case, why don’t you tell me what you were doing up on the roof in this weather.” His teeth are chattering and his knees are wet along with the majority of his pants by now. It’s freezing cold out and snowing still and he’s kind of starting to feel upset with the man.

“I was putting up lights.” His neighbor mutters, and Seungri wracks his brain trying to remember the man’s name so that he can properly scold him for such ludicrous behavior.

“Why on earth were you putting up lights now of all times?” he asks, huffy and annoyed. The man, Youngbae he thinks he remembers his name being, lets out a shuddering chuckle. “Do you find this funny, Youngbae? You could have died, you imbecile.” He mutters, and Youngbae laughs again, but stronger this time.

“It’s funny, really, because I’m only putting them up because I wanted to prove my friends wrong.” Youngbae says, reaching forward to grasp Seungri’s arm and pull himself up into a sitting position.

Seungri rolls his eyes and steadies the man as he moves. “Prove them wrong about what? About how dangerous it is to put up Christmas lights in the middle of a snow storm?” He asks, his eyebrows raised. “Because if that’s the case you proved them right.”

Youngbae shakes his head, winces slightly, and then rather curiously seems to forget to remove his hand from Seungri’s arm. “No, I was trying to prove that the lights would remind me of my ex-girlfriend.” He says, and now it’s Seungri’s turn to laugh.

“You can’t have honestly thought that this would prove anything to anyone.” He says, turning his head to look up at the second-floor apartment. “And you didn’t even get half of them up!” He says, gesturing toward the dangling lights just above Seungri’s living room window.

Youngbae chuckles softly, his eyes following Seungri’s gaze up to the roof. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t really think about what I was trying to accomplish.”

It sounded so ridiculous said like that…as if they were just talking about schedules and not putting up lights in the middle of a storm. “Obviously.” He mutters, and Youngbae turns his head toward him, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Seungri, right?” He asks, and Seungri nods. Youngbae lets out a deep breath and then he shakes his head. “I think I’d like to get out of the snow.”

Seungri makes a big show of rolling his eyes. “About time. I was beginning to wonder if you’d actually hurt yourself.” He mutters, standing up slowly and letting Youngbae pull himself up before holding out a hand to steady him. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He says softly, directing the shorter man to the front door.

Seungri sees him up to his apartment and then pauses awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching Youngbae shuffle in and shut the door behind him. Youngbae was a very attractive man, and Seungri had always been aware of that fact. He’d never really had occasion to ogle him, but Seungri was definitely aware. He shakes his head to rid himself of those types of thoughts, and then turns toward his own apartment, his right hand absently rubbing his left arm.

He’s re-heating his ramen when he comes to the conclusion that he won’t be able to stop thinking about Youngbae’s hand latched onto his upper arm anytime in the near future. It’s almost upsetting, he thinks, as he dumps his half-eaten bowl back into the pot on the stove. Youngbae is attractive, but apparently still hung up over his ex-girlfriend.

There’s a knock on the door a couple minutes later, and Seungri has to stop wondering what Youngbae’s ex-girlfriend might look like in order to answer it.

“Sorry to disturb you again.” Youngbae says, his eyes fixed on Seungri’s shoulder. Seungri muses that they would probably be fixed on a point above that if he were any taller. “But I just wanted to say thank you and…” He trails off here and pulls a bottle of wine from behind his back. He holds it out in front of him as if he wants Seungri to take it.

Seungri realizes he has the upper hand in this situation, and is very eager to take it. He his head to the side and looks down at Youngbae. “Come on in.” He murmurs, gesturing for him to enter.

~

Youngbae feels really rather stupid. He had intended to put the lights up right after work, but it was snowing so heavily that he had decided that it wasn’t really worth the effort. It should have ended there.

Unfortunately, he had gotten a call from Jiyong just before dinner, mostly because Jiyong wanted to complain about having to cook for himself while his housemate was away for the month, but also because Jiyong wanted to know if Youngbae had decorated yet. Half way through the taunts and Youngbae’s denials, he had slammed down the phone, dragged out the plastic totes that housed his lights, and donned his jacket. When he lost his footing less than a half hour later and tumbled down onto the front yard, his only thoughts had been about whether or not Jiyong would stop harassing him about this now.

He hadn’t expected Seungri to be home. In retrospect, he really should have assumed that Seungri would be home, not that he often thought about his neighbor, really. But being that Seungri was a young and energetic socialite, he was rarely home in the evenings for Youngbae to think about anyway. The snow should have clued him into the possibility that Seungri, like most sane people, would not be out.

Youngbae presses himself against his front door for a moment after closing it behind him, and just leans his head back. The embarrassment of what had happened was only now really making itself known. With a sigh he pushes himself away from the door, kicks off his wet boots, and shuffles off to his bedroom. He needs to change and find a way to thank Seungri; and maybe make himself feel less idiotic in the process.

Once he’s freshly dressed he takes a quick look around his kitchen, his eyes landing on a bottle of expensive wine Seunghyun had given him for his birthday. There was no way he’d drink the wine alone, so he may as well bring it with him as a peace offering to Seungri. He’s knocking on Seungri’s door when he realizes how weird a bottle of wine might be as a thank you for making sure he wasn’t dead on the front lawn.

Seungri opens the door as Youngbae is trying to decide where to discreetly drop the bottle so as not to be forced to show it.

“Sorry to disturb you again.” Youngbae says, fixing his eyes at a point just barely above Seungri’s rather high shoulder. “But I just wanted to say thank you and…” He trails off here, uncertain what else to say as he hadn’t really thought this whole thing through before leaving his apartment. A little belatedly he remembers that he has a bottle of wine in his hand, so he holds it out to show

Seungri looks at him for a second before cocking his head to the side and allowing what Youngbae could only describe as a cocky grin cross his face. “Come on in.” he finally says, gesturing back into his apartment.

Youngbae walks in slowly, toeing off his shoes in the entryway before waiting for Seungri to show him into the apartment proper. Seungri backs away from the door slowly and gently takes the bottle of wine out of Youngbae’s hand.

“What kind is it?” He asks as he walks into the kitchen, and Youngbae internally winces; he has no idea.

“Ah, one of my friends…he’s really into wine…” He pauses for a second, and fights with his impulse to shrug. “He picks all of my wine out.”

Seungri’s mouth tilts up in the corner like a secret smile, and Youngbae decides that he should leave. Unfortunately, Seungri tilts the bottle up to read the label, and Youngbae forgets to move.

“It looks good…too good for you to just be giving away to your neighbor.” He mutters after a thorough perusal of the bottle. Youngbae only barely catches the heavy-lidded glance Seungri spares him before the bottle is placed on the bar and Seungri has turned away.

Youngbae pads closer, making sure to stand on the opposite side of the bar from Seungri. His eyes land on a bubbling pot on the stove, and he loses the fight not interfere. “You’re going to burn your soup.” He says softly, and Seungri turns away from the counter to give him a confused look before he follows Youngbae’s gaze to the stovetop.

With a smile, Seungri leans over and turns off the burner. Youngbae realizes that Seungri had been rummaging through a drawer before he’d interrupted; and now he’s intrigued. It takes only a couple more seconds before Seungri seems to find what he is looking for, and then he’s reaching up into his cupboard and pulling down two wine glasses.

“I’d feel better about accepting this thank you if you drank it with me.” Seungri says, his face a mask of innocent seriousness.

Youngbae doesn’t believe the things those types of faces try to imply.

He accepts a glass of freshly uncorked wine with very little protest, and considers regretting it about an hour and a half later when Seungri has challenged him to a dance battle and they’ve just finished their second bottle of wine.

“Oh come on!” Seungri whines, and Youngbae wonders if the man can really hear himself right now, because it’s nothing like the suave elegance he’d been sporting earlier.

However, Youngbae isn’t very suave at this point either…he does have his limits though. “I’m not going to battle with you. That’s ridiculous.” He scoffs, but Seungri just glowers at him for a moment before ignoring Youngbae’s obviously superior logic and turning on his stereo.

“You’re just afraid I’m better than you.” Seungri says, and Youngbae snorts at the thought, and Seungri throws him an extra glare. “Then why’s it such a problem, s’just dancing.” He grumbles, starting to sway to the beat of whatever song it is that’s playing.

Youngbae considers answering honestly, as it’s normally his default setting. But the honest answer has something to do with Seungri being too adorable and his mind suggesting things that are probably super inappropriate. “You said it was a battle.”

Seungri leans forward and grabs Youngbae’s hands, dragging him out onto the rug where there is space in front of the speakers. “You said that you were a choreographer.”

Youngbae sighs and stops fighting it; it’s just dancing after all. He dances at work all the time. He dances for Jiyong and Seunghyun and his other friends all the time. He can definitely beat this drunk, cocky, kid.

~

Seungri regrets very few things in his life, and uncorking that first bottle of wine and pouring Youngbae a glass is not one of them. He does, however, regret all of the alcohol from the second bottle of wine onward.

They’re on the floor by this point, having exhausted both their legs and Seungri’s meager supply of alcohol. Seungri is sitting up with his back against the couch and Youngbae has his head in Seungri’s lap. It feels kind of intimate, except for the persistent buzz in Seungri’s ears and the slight feeling coursing through his consciousness that says that if he stands up he’s going to fall down.

“They were right.” Youngbae says suddenly, and Seungri’s hand, which had apparently been combing through the older man’s hair, pauses for a moment.

“Who?” Seungri asks, genuinely confused about who could have been right about anything when they were the only two there.

“Ji and Seunghyun.” He says, as if Seungri has any idea what he’s talking about.

“About what?” He asks, and his mind belatedly tells him not to be an idiot. “About the lights? You shouldn’t put lights up in a snow storm; they were wrong.”

Youngbae chuckles, a y sound, and Seungri wonders briefly which of them is drunker. “I don’t love her.” He says, his eyes crinkling up into his smile and Seungri smiles down at him.

“Of course you don’t.” Seungri murmurs, brushing his hand through Youngbae’s hair once more.

“No, I thought I did.” Youngbae says urgently, sitting up swiftly to look into Seungri’s eyes. Seungri leans his head back rather more than he had meant to, but his focus is off and Youngbae smells good. “I thought that when she left me everything was over but it wasn’t, it isn’t. I was wrong.” He’s smiling but Seungri doesn’t really care.

“Is she prettier than me?” He asks, and Youngbae blinks slowly, as if he’s really processing the question; as if he’s taking it seriously.

“No.” He says finally, and Seungri lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“As if it were a contest.” Seungri says, as if he really feels arrogant right now, when all he really feels is drowsy, and comfortable, and just a little bit wobbly.

“It isn’t.” Youngbae says softly, and Seungri wonders what he’s thinking, and if that's the compliment his mind thinks that it is.

They are silent for a moment, and Seungri closes his eyes and leans his head back against the couch. He considers lifting his head back up and telling Youngbae that they need to go to bed, when he feels Youngbae move.

“You need to sleep.” Youngbae says softly. He stands up a little unsteadily and proceeds to gently maneuver Seungri up onto the couch. Seungri makes a whine of protest, more because he’d wanted to suggest bed than because Youngbae had moved him, but Youngbae obviously can’t read minds. “Shh, it’s okay.” Youngbae says softly, before leaning down to kiss Seungri on the forehead.

Seungri grabs Youngbae’s shirt and pulls him down onto the couch with him. “You can’t walk upstairs.” He mutters, moving around so that he can hold Youngbae in place.

He hears Youngbae chuckle softly, but he’s already got his eyes closed. “We barely know each other, Ri.” Youngbae murmurs, but it’s too far away, and Seungri feels warm and comfortable and kind of like it’s okay that he had four shots of tequila on top of at least one full bottle of wine.

“That’s fine.” He mutters into Youngbae’s hair.

He’s asleep not long after that.