In the space of time that Jiyong manages to gather his senses and locate his phone where it had most likely fallen in Seunghyun’s room the night before, the familiar ringtone and buzzing sounds had already ceased.

What he shouldn’t be surprised to find when he swipes at the screen is around fifteen missed calls and closer to twenty messages – some from Seungri and Youngbae, and the rest from his dad.

The tingling feeling that had consumed Jiyong just moments ago as he had almost ing kissed Seunghyun immediately dissipates to make room for complete dread and horror.

His dad’s furious, lined face flashes inside of his mind and he can practically already hear the screams and scoldings that are guaranteed to burst his eardrums.

He’s going to murder me.  

Jiyong isn’t that much stressed about the fact that he left the party – he always ends up leaving early out of boredom anyway so that’s nothing out of the ordinary. But it’s more the fact that he crashed the car in to a tree which would, no doubt, have left some sort of a hideous dent or mark.

And he’s almost positive that this puts him in danger of getting his keys taken away – Jiyong’s worst nightmare is not having a way to get the hell out of the house to his own convenience, when needed. Being car-less is not a life change he is willing to lead.

Hopefully the damage is small enough that I can take care of it with my own savings, Jiyong isn’t hopeful at all, but simply desperate for alternative options to his dad discovering the damaged car.
 

When he gets his shoes on and exits the room in a flurry, the only thing occupying his thoughts is that he has to go outside and see how badly his car’s been ruined – but when he does step outside and is met with a shy looking Seunghyun leaning against the kitchen bench, Jiyong is painfully reminded of the compromising state he is in right now.

He suddenly feels fidgety, not sure what to do with his hands and so he shoves them in to his pant pockets as he feels his face burn red. God, I’m such an idiot.

Seunghyun had averted his eyes as soon as Jiyong had left the bedroom, and is now swirling a spoon in a mug of coffee, although he clearly knows the younger is present.

It’s painfully awkward and Jiyong hates himself and his impulses. It had been an impulsive act, Jiyong is certain – he’d only leaned forwards because what else is one supposed to do when being a hair’s width away from someone as gorgeous as Choi Seunghyun?

Still, he decides to blatantly ignore the way his heart is beating fast and hard as he timidly shuffles towards the kitchen. It creates an ache inside of his chest as he unsurely brings himself closer to the older, his nerves running on overdrive.

What in the hell is he meant to say to Seunghyun, now?

It’s becoming increasingly irritating and puzzling to him that he somehow reduces himself in to more of a pathetic, tomato-red, stuttering fool with each meeting he has with Seunghyun. Jiyong can’t recall one other individual that has even come close to turning him all flustered and soft like he’s been acting recently.

These things coursing through him are so foreign and unwelcome that Jiyong can’t help but want to lash out at Seunghyun at every chance he gets – or simply steer clear of the older.

And in this moment, he decides it’s more appropriate to do the latter – especially after he’s already soiled his attempt at an apology for causing trouble through presenting the older with blackened bread for breakfast.

He reaches the other side of the counter to where Seunghyun is standing, and runs a quick hand through his hair; an embarrassed gesture, as being at a closer proximity to the other simply makes the image of Seunghyun’s face being so, very close to his own – one that he has been trying to dispel from his brain since the moment it happened, more real and vivid.

Jiyong opens his mouth to speak, hoping his cheeks are not blushing as red as they feel and preparing himself to simply say bye and get out as quickly as possible.  “U-um,”

Seunghyun tentatively peaks up at Jiyong, detracting his focus from the mug.

“That was my dad-” Jiyong squares his jaw a little in order to stop his own stupid stuttering, “I should probably go do damage control, so,” He gestures over his shoulder towards the apartment’s exit.

Seunghyun’s lips part, as if he’s about to interject and Jiyong silently begs please don’t bring up what happened, please, please, please, tries to convey that he doesn’t want to relive the embarrassment through wide, pleading eyes.

It works, he thinks.

Seunghyun closes his mouth after observing Jiyong’s features for a moment – he looks like a lost lamb and Jiyong feels so bad for causing him the mental turmoil. Yet the thought of Seunghyun asking him about his actions, terrified Jiyong enough to have him edging towards the door before the older could properly respond.

“Y-yeah, of course, you should probably go,” Seunghyun says softly, but his eyes are still regarding Jiyong in a calculating manner, as if trying to figure something out.

It’s all too much for the younger, who nods once, mutters out a nervous little ‘again, thanks for letting me crash here’, and then turns towards the door.

“Wait, Jiyong!”

. The boy’s hands pause on the doorknob, his eyes clench shut tightly and he desperately just wants to ignore Seunghyun and bolt.

But he can’t.

After a second’s pause, Jiyong exhales an uneven breath, braces himself half-heartedly and turns around to face what he expects will be a form of confrontation from the other man.

What he doesn’t expect is to have Seunghyun briskly walking towards him.

Instinctively, Jiyong’s eyes widen and he takes two steps back – but then, freezes in place as the older reaches him, standing a few footsteps away. He stares up at him quizzically.

“I forgot I took these out for you w-when you went to get your phone,”

Seunghyun raises a closed fist in to the space of air between them, and Jiyong’s brows furrow as he looks down. Immediately, the older unfurls his hand to reveal an open palm, holding up two small, white tablets. “F-for your head.” He adds quietly.

Jiyong looks up at Seunghyun with pleasant surprise and little awe.

Along with the great relief that allows his tense shoulders to sag freely – he feels a sudden rush of warmth flood in to him at the thoughtfulness and care of the man before him. He can’t believe how well Seunghyun has taken care of him.

He’s also awfully confused as to how Seunghyun is able to show such kindness to him after Jiyong wasn’t even able muster up the courage to say sorry for all that’s occurred.

Jiyong figures it must just be Seunghyun’s nature to do these things – like allowing him to sleep here, and taking care of an injury – he does these because he’s inherently nice, nice enough for Jiyong to consider him a pushover, after all. 

The thought causes Jiyong to feel a little bit ridiculous and stupid in being so touched – it’s not like Seunghyun specifically cares about him.

But, it feels good to be looked after and he can’t even help the small smile tugging at his lips as he tentatively takes the pain killers from Seunghyun’s hand.

And when Jiyong does manage to make it out the door, he almost forgets to check the car bumper – as he’s too busy pondering on the strange way his fingers had tingled after brushing against Seunghyun’s skin.

Twenty minutes later, Jiyong reaches his house with a growing sense of dread and a majorly bashed in front corner of a Lamborghini.

He’s practically stopped breathing as he cautiously tiptoes his way through the front doors, and honestly, he shouldn’t have been that shocked to the point of cardiac arrest at being welcomed by  the terrifying image of his father sitting on the large, dining room coach, obviously having waiting Jiyong’s return.

But as soon as he spots the older man, Jiyong lets out a sharp noise of surprise and physically jumps, throwing a palm over his fast-beating heart.

“Why are you so on edge?” Mr. Kwon asks, with an accusatory lilt to his voice. He crosses his arms over his chest and Jiyong fiddles with the collar of his blazer under the scrutiny.

, , – what do I say?

He filters through his panicking brain, attempting to put together a version of the story that could possibly anger the old man less. He’s stuttering out strings of ums as he thinks and then feels grateful that he’s interrupted by his dad speaking up once again.

“I talked to Seunghyun.” Mr. Kwon says.

Jiyong’s head shoots up in response. What the ? Seunghyun? When?

His eyes widen in horror at thought of Seunghyun calling up his father to complain about all of the trouble Jiyong’s been causing. It seems a bit unlikely for the kind man to do something of that nature; however Jiyong could not see how Seunghyun would have talked about anything else, especially considering the fact his dad’s bringing the matter up right now.

He swallows the nervous lump in his throat with difficulty, “I’m – uh, It’s not-”

Then, suddenly, Mr. Kwon’s stern expression cracks in to a pleasant smile. Jiyong’s defence pauses instantly and he’s sure that if he was scared before, he’s absolutely terrified now.

“Don’t worry, he already told me everything.” Kwon explains calmly, as if that is meant to ease the state of disorientation and panic that Jiyong is currently facing. His dad is continuing to smile at him, and he can only stay glued to the spot he is frozen in, trying to make sense of what the hell is going on.

Mr. Kwon begins to lift himself from his seat, eyeing Jiyong. “How are you feeling, son? That’s quite the bruise, but I was more worried about the fever last night.”

Jiyong’s eyebrows raise high up on his forehead. Why is his dad so calm? “I um-“He lifts a land to graze fingers against the abused skin. “its fine now but-” Suddenly, what his father had just said settles completely in to Jiyong’s head, enough for him to realize something’s amiss. He frowns. “Wait, what fever?”

Lost, Jiyong watches as his father lets out an amused noise, “You must have hit your head hard enough to forget.” Jiyong is about to ask forget what, when the old man continues, “You must have remembered feeling sick at the party, at least?”

Jiyong is dumbfounded. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he thinks back to last night’s happenings and no – there had been positively no illness involved with anyone. His lack of response prompts his dad to speak again.

“Seunghyun offered to drive you home? And then accidently bumped in to a tree on the sidewalk? That’s how you hit your head; honestly, did Seunghyun not tell you what happened this morning?”

No. Jiyong’s mind grows blank. No he didn’t. Things begin to grow less hazy as his dad’s words start to piece together. The boy isn’t really certain, however, he’s beginning to develop an inkling of an understanding about what has occurred without his own knowledge. 

Seunghyun had somehow talked to his father sometime between last night and before Jiyong had woken up this morning...or maybe even as he had been driving here – that’s not important, in any case. The older had obviously completely upturned the events that had taken place.  And from what his dad had just reported, Jiyong is almost sure that Seunghyun twisted the story in order to have the blame placed on his own, idiotic, handsome head.

It definitely explains how is dad is not exploding towards him in this moment.

That idiot. Jiyong feels his chest tighten, against his own will, with sharp affection that he desperately wishes to ignore. What kind of person even thinks of doing like this? Jiyong doesn’t even remember an incident where Young-bae had been willing to face Mr. Kwon’s fiery wrath in Jiyong’s place.

The thought brings an unpleasant image to Jiyong’s thoughts. He feels guilt ebb at his conscience as he cautiously voices, “Are you – are you angry at Seunghyun, then?”

Mr. Kwon surprises the boy as he shakes his head in response. “Ani. Seunghyun took the initiative to take care of you, that isn’t something to scold him over.”

Jiyong’s eyebrows scrunch together. He doesn’t even have the mind to feel relieved that Seunghyun isn’t going to be grilled and charred by his father as his guilt immediately subsides in place of confusion once more. He his head, “But he crashed the car?” His dad still does not seem to flinch at this. In fact, his smile only solidifies, which serves to render Jiyong further unnerved by this baffling situation.

“Accidents happen, nothing I can’t afford to fix. And it allowed you two to become even better acquainted.” His father says in a peaceful tone.

Bull. Jiyong blinks at the man in disbelief, lips parted in shock as he ponders on whether he had just heard correctly. Accidents happen? Since when in the ? Jiyong starts to grow bitter with the feeling of injustice, slowly becoming aware of what’s taking place.

He folds his arms across himself, feeling incredibly affronted. “If I was the one who’d caused the crash, you would have killed me by now.”

Mr. Kwon doesn’t even attempt to deny the accurate accusation, he walks towards the dining table and plucks the newspaper laying there, not even looking at Jiyong. “Seunghyun is a respectable person, and I trust him to make the right decisions.”

Jiyong scoffs, narrowing his gaze, “I’m your flesh and blood!”

“I’ll stop yelling at you like you’re a child once you’ve actually grown up, Jiyong.” His dad is still speaking in that tranquil voice and Jiyong cannot believe that the act of favouritism is able to go to lengths such as this. He shakes his head, turning away from his dad as the man begins to flip through the paper.

He mutters bloody choi seunghyun under his breath as he stalks towards his room in an infuriated flurry.

+

Seunghyun is absolutely screwed.

He had once thought that he had liked the Kwon Jiyong of whom he’d painted a bright, pretty picture of inside of his own fantasies, only to have that ideal ripped up after he’d actually talked to the boy.

Then, very quickly, he had grown to a stage where Jiyong, still pretty, was to be considered as this whiny kid who he was scared to upset and had to make the biggest of efforts in attempt to keep the younger’s blood cool.

However, after what had occurred in his loft just hours ago, Seunghyun somehow finds himself tied in between the two.

He cannot even remember the last time that his heart had pounded against his chest like that – the moment where Jiyong had landed on top of him and then...

And then.

Seunghyun isn’t sure how many weeks it’s going to take to get the image of Jiyong’s chocolate brown eyes out of his head, or the feeling of the younger’s lashes almost feathering against his own. The way his heartbeat had increased tenfold as he had felt the boy lean closer.

Seunghyun is so, very screwed.

He blames Jiyong completely, because how in the world is Seunghyun meant to feel to have the otherwise cold boy, in his kitchen attempting to cook him breakfast. On top of this, Jiyong failed to have even the tiniest of outbursts towards Seunghyun for the whole duration of their morning.

Of course Seunghyun is going to be bloody smitten with him at the moment.

As much as it irritates him, he decides this is better than to be yelled at constantly by the younger. He wonders how long this will last before Jiyong returns to act himself.

Seunghyun knows it won’t be all too long, and so he might as well just wait for the boy to remind him how much of an he is. It’s only a matter of time.

He sighs and sips at his mug of black coffee, mind drifting unconsciously to wondering whether Jiyong has returned home safely or not. It has him feeling less ill at ease to know that he’s already settled the matter with Jiyong’s father, so the boy isn’t going to be completely killed.

His worries are disrupted by the ping of his message tone. Seunghyun reaches across the couch and squints at the screen, only to almost have the phone slip from his hands in shock.

From: Bommie

Can we meet up? I want to talk things over.

the next morning

Dara puffs out large, tired breaths as she slides to the side of the choreo room, taking a break from the intensive dance practice. As she reaches down for her drink bottle, she hears a deep, troubled sigh and frowns slightly as she looks over and sees Jiyong seated on the ground, leaning against the back wall with his shoulders obviously slumped.

Confused, as she’s very used to seeing the favoured intern bustling around the place as if it were his own and creating a ruckus, she elbows Chaerin beside her. “What’s gotten in to him?” She hisses.

The younger girl does not even turn to see who they’re discussing, tying her jacket around her waist as she responds – in an unnecessarily loud voice, “He’s having marital issues.”

Jiyong’s head shoots up, and he fixes the girls with an icy glare, “No, I am not.” His lips habitually form a pout, feeling a sense of injustice.

His irritation sparks further as Dara snickers, “Already? I thought the fights started, well, after marriage.”

Chaerin throws Jiyong an amused smirk and he narrows his eyes threateningly. “I am not fighting with anyone. Stick your noses out of other people’s business.” And he huffs and looks away from them, making a show of his annoyance.

“Wow, really, Oppa?” He looks back at Chaerin, her hands are now on her hips purposefully, “Says the guy who’s come to our practice session uninvited only to act all depressed.”

Jiyong curls his upper lip, “Whatever. I’m bored, Youngbae was meant to be here twenty minutes ago and I’m not supposed to be in the recording studio alone.”  He folds his arms across his chest, “I’m going to kill him.”

He ignores the way that the two evil beings exchange amused glances and begins to mindlessly scroll through his phone, thoughts drifting to what’s been occupying his head since the day before, without his control.

A day has passed and he has not bothered to contact Seunghyun at all. Jiyong has no clue why this is suddenly an issue in his life, wonders when in the past few days the older began to have him worry and stress over little things like how to say thank you or how to start a casual conversation – stupid, irrelevant things like that.

Even something like texting Seunghyun holds a weight to it – is something with meaning to Jiyong for God knows what reason. He thinks perhaps it’s because of the bizarre situation they’ve been hurled in to, because how does one normally talk to and think about the guy they’re being forced to marry, anyway?

If Jiyong messages Seunghyun a nice, casual ‘thanks for the save’ it would be fine and normal, but every time his fingers act to type out the flat toned message, he hesitates and ends up sending nothing. It sounds wrong, and Jiyong for the first time, doesn’t want to offend Seunghyun.

The thought has him feeling all bitter and he curses the older for being so sensitive and emotional. “Ugh, his ‘nice’ must be contagious or something.” Jiyong shudders.

“Who’re you talking to?”

Jiyong jumps at the sudden voice, instantly torn from his thoughts. He looks up at Bom, the culprit of the interruption, who’s obviously just entered the practice room, clad in her gym clothes and her long, caramel hair braided.

He frowns, “No one,” and looks in the other direction, an odd feeling of discomfort prickling at his fingers. After the whole Chaerin spilling the beans on Bom and Seunghyun deal, Jiyong had practically forgotten that that whole conversation had ever taken place.

But to see the singer for the first time since that day suddenly brings the slightly ridiculous rumour back to his mind, and if it is in any way, true – Jiyong can’t help but feel a little awkward around the woman, now.

Jiyong sees Chaerin and Dara spot Bom at the door and he flinches as the two of them immediately switch their gazes towards him, faces contorting in to a blend of bemusement and worry.

“Sorry I’m so late,” Bom smiles at her members with her eyes and then proceeds to enter the room, walking towards them.

“Unnie! We were just about to take a break,” Chaerin explains, gesturing to the towel around her neck and the water bottle in the grip of her palm. As they chatter, Jiyong comes to the decision that the rumours are probably all very false, as Bom is treating him as she normally would.

This provides for him a moment of calm, and the girls’ chatter is beginning to soil his comfortable state, so Jiyong begins to push his weight off of the wall behind him, loosely finding balance on his two feet as he stands.

“I’m going to go look for Youngbae.” Jiyong announces his exit abruptly, and as the three turn at his sudden voice, Chaerin sends him an odd, meaningful look over Bom’s shoulder.

Jiyong arches an eyebrow at her, only to notice that Dara’s expression has been twisted in to one of great shock, whilst Bom’s large eyes are widened further in a look of surprise. What the , I’m just leaving so why are they...?

Someone behind Jiyong clears their throat.

The deep rumble of the noise is enough to have Jiyong frozen where he stands, shock rooting his feet to the floors and travelling up his spine like a current.

“Hyun, what are you doing here?” Is what Bom says next and that’s enough for Jiyong’s breath to hitch slightly. His thought process is like a flowing current, only repeating how can this be happening, how can this be happening, oh my god it’s true, it’s true, it’s all true.

What in the actual hell is his life?

“You left your bag in the car-” Seunghyun pauses abruptly as he finally registers the presence in front of him, and Jiyong can feel the moment of realization against the back of his head; the strength of Seunghyun’s gaze lingering there.

“Jiyong?”

a/n: kind of a nothing update? promise for heaPS of gtop interaction next,, thank u so much to everyone who's subscribed and commented <3<3 

for any confusion: bommie doesn't know who t.o.p is marrying as of yet so~