Not even a month had passed and we were already building up a new concept to accompany the release and promotion of two more singles. Spring was soon to be in full throttle as the air began to lose its chill and as the familiar brighter greens and blues of the landscape had to started to paint itself and bloom. It was incredibly relieving to even go out and see it; we were basically just traveling back and forth from studio to studio or back to the dorm where everything in the city was overruled with grey and black. The trek to GaeHwa Island for our Love Song video was as far from those dull colors as we could get, but even at that it didn't last long. We were there for the island's desert, inhaling sand, dust, smoke, and gun powder.

     Work was work, and our mood was kind of mellow and distant because we just wanted to finish filming. Seunghyun started wheezing just a bit because of the fires and dust. Daesung cracked jokes to keep us from worrying. The noonas took good care of us, of course.

     In between takes, as we watched video editors work their magic on the spot underneath the large tent built off set for us, I'd steal quick peeks at my hyungs who were observing the videos seriously. Noting the solemn expressions, I had decided then and there that something had to be done to cheer them up and break the mood. Jiyong noticed my glances and stared back at me with wary eyes.

"What the hell are you thinking for you to stare at me like that, maknae," Jiyong asked me dryly.

     I smiled nonchalantly and pretended to pick off some ash from Jiyong's jacket.

"Just looking out for hyung's best interest."

     He squinted his eyes in a small sneer, prodding an elbow into my ribs from beside me.

"You liar."

"No, I mean it," I retorted, holding my punched ribs with one hand and coughing out sand into the other. Jiyong's smirk quickly faded and was replaced with concern, patting my back. I stopped coughing and he kept his hand behind me, fingers grazing the nape of my neck. My skin tingled at his touch.

"Don't get too excited, maknae," Jiyong teased, and he then proceeded to lean sideways to whisper into my ear. He cupped his unoccupied hand around his mouth and I almost winced as his breath tickled against my jaw. "Hey," he suggested," Let's run like crazy as soon as we're done."

     I turned my head and smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm all for it."

"And we have to yell and scream."

"Yup. And we run as fast as we can back to here."

     His fingers pinched the back of my neck and a tiny chuckle was caught in his throat.

"Sometimes I like the way maknae thinks."

"Only sometimes?" I prodded, and he smirked.

"Yup. Your other thoughts are probably just you boosting your own ego or are too dirty."

     I started to protest, but Jiyong was already shoving me away to get back on set. I was too happy to care about protesting anyway. Our frantic dash back to the tent once we were done filming went just as planned. Catching our breaths under shelter with the other members was invigorating, and the way Jiyong's hands had found the back of my neck again so quickly after returning was the quiet home and comfort I'd been seeking from him, been wanting back from him all this time.

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     The rest of April rushed by in the blink of an eye, full of continuing promotions and long concert rehearsals. We were back in Japan by May 2nd and our Love and Hope Tour would start in a week.

     Even considering the earthquake and tsunami that had hit Japan not even two months ago, the streets were still clean and the cities were booming and as vivacious as ever. We had fans in Korea concerned with us being there, but in the end our tour in Japan was a promise that we were determined to keep. We were safe.

     In between the bouts of practicing and the few hours of craching at our hostel on a day to day basis, Jiyong or our manager liked to take us out to local restaurants or shops to explore. I was always aware of the frantic way Jiyong would reach for my arm or shoulders to pull me away somewhere when something caught his eyes in the streets. I constantly felt our brushing of sleeves as he'd tangle an arm around me or tightly cradle my arm like it wasn't even a part of my body.

     The more eclectic or bizarre the fashion store he'd find tucked behind a building somewhere, the harder he'd pull on me, eyes sparkling with some sort of artisitic inspiration that I was just never going to quite understand. It wasn't that he was ever really looking for "the next big thing," but rather, I think, that new ideas would come to him naturally when he saw certain things. After he'd really look at something, he'd stare down at me expectantly and tell me that we just had to go in there, and I'd just roll my eyes as he pulled me away with him.

     I couldn't have been happier to be by Jiyong's side again, hand in hand or arms around shoulders, but in truth, we were still two completely different people. Fatique whipped its ugly head around as our concerts started up the next week, and I was a guy who needed his sleep. Jiyong was able to survive late nights on a daily basis. I didn't know how he did it.

     I was told vaguely about an after party approaching the end of the tour. Whether or not I wanted to attend, I wasn't sure. If I were to drink too much or party too hard, Jiyong would attack me and call me irresponsible, but at the same time Jiyong was poking and prodding me into going with him. I had to be with him so he could keep an eye on me, he said. I was worrisome, he said.

     When the night finally came, I figured I'd join the party for at least a few hours. I was tired, but adrenaline after a concert always did wonders, and I ordered a few drinks at the lively night club we were at with caffiene and club soda to keep me awake. I practiced my improving Japanese with a few girls as Jiyong would bump his shoulders into me every few minutes to translate for him. I half-heartedly danced for about an hour, mindful not to move too sloppy of course, but the sugar and after-concert high had finally brought me to a low and I just had to leave and call it a night. The manager was off against a wall somewhere talking to some older folks while Daesung and Seunghyun were playing drinking games. Taeyang was already back at the hostel.

     After finishing my last glass of a sweet iced beverage, I nudged Jiyong and told him I was ready to leave. His brown eyes, just a little dilated now after having a few glasses of champagne, nodded slowly and his expression was serene.

"Okay. You did well, maknae. Just don't bring any girls with you back to the dorm, and you pass my inspection."

     I rolled my eyes and my lips, enjoying the last of the sweet aftertaste of my drink. Jiyong smiled at me and brought his hands up to pat the top of my head like I was his pet or something.

"Yah! Hyung! Watch the hair!"

     He snickered and leaned into me, and then he placed a kiss on my right cheek, and I scrunched my eyes.

"Goodnight maknae. Sleep well."

     I rubbed my cheek and was already searching the club for the manager again, who had moved to a place on the club's side wall with darker strobe lights. Jiyong was already stepping off into another direction, body heat of our shoulders slipping away. He was walking off to the bartender for another drink, I realized.

     I never thought Jiyong would be the one to have gotten in trouble later that night while I was away. I should have stayed, I should have relished the heat of our ever-touching shoulders, side by side. But I didn't, because as much as he needed me with him so I wouldn't act up, I never really thought I'd have to look after him, because he was always fine, always comfortable in what he was doing. So I walked away, cheeks still tingling from his goodnight kiss, and I was just too exhausted to look back.

A/N edit:  making of Love Song: http://bigbangupdates.com/2011/05/making-of-love-song-subbed-subbed.html