stop and stare

When Lee Seunghyun first meets Kwon Jiyong, he doesn’t look him in the face. Firstly, it’s because he is too afraid, to meet this infamous youth who has been doing everything and he has wanted to do and more, for longer than he has and well, secondly, Kwon Jiyong is wearing the baggiest pants he has ever seen, they are an offensively bright white and in the dim halls of the training centre, they hurt his eyes, and they drip to the floor, barely clinging to the skinny boy’s hips. Not that this is attractive or anything, he thinks, looking up at the lanky thing in front of him, but he hasn't ever seen anything like these pants before, he can’t take his eyes from them.

“Hey there stranger!” Jiyong says cheerfully and Seunghyun knows it’s over before it has begun-how do you compete with people like him, who are innately confident, who ooze charisma  from every open pore?  But he’ll try not to lose, he thinks fiercely, because there is no way he’s gonna give up his dream without a fight, and especially not to someone with such ty dress sense.

Somehow he gets in, and life progresses only now it’s filled with sweat and sore muscles and the constant pounding of an overworked brain. And while Hyunseung becomes what he used to be, while Jiyong dotes on the almost maknae with an arch smile and cheeky humour, Lee Seunghyun is the strange kid who watches the leader  constantly with wide eyes, the dark bags beneath them only magnifying his gaze and frankly, Jiyong is amused with the attention. He lets himself pat the boy on the head a few times, praise the way his dance looks effortless after hours of practice, treat him to ice creams and noodles.

Month follows month and Lee Seunghyun becomes Seungri. Seungri becomes.

One day, Seungri looks at Jiyong and instead of his eyes automatically focusing to take in the hideous outfit that he is sporting that day, his eyes drift up up up and suddenly, Seungri is looking at Jiyoung’s face and really, he likes it more than the skinny jeans that are plastered to his leader’s  long legs. Pause. Breathe. Drink. Seungri isn’t sure what he should be looking at anymore, but he knows looking up was the best decision he ever made.

Jiyong wears skirts and furry hoods now, and Seunghyun still stares, but he no longer stares at the designer sneakers flying across the stage, but the lean legs attached to them, the lightly muscled torso that accompanies that and the best thing, the smile from Jiyong’s lips, the joyful shout, “Seungri! Come join me!”