A.N. 

Hey all, I want to apologize for how long it's been since I've posted. The last couple of months have been pretty hectic, and life got in the way of writing. I'm back now though and hopefully no more long breaks! The end of this fic is really close and I'm determined to finish it before summer starts! Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this very very late chapter!

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Hey,”

Jiwon says, from across the couch. It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and they’re both curled up in Jiwon’s living room, blanket thrown loosely over their intertwined legs. Hanbin looks up from his sketchbook, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

“I have a show tonight, at this club downtown. You should come.”

Hanbin smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You sure you want me to be there? Am I cool enough to hang with, I won't embarrass you talking about weird old Italian painters to your bros.”

Jiwon grabs a pillow and tosses it gently at him, grinning.

“Not if you keep talking like that, can’t ruin my street cred you know. But seriously, you should come. You got to take me around your exhibition, it’s my turn to show off!”

Hanbin puts his pencil down and tries to arrange his features into something suitably thoughtful. Putting a finger to his lips he creases his brows,

“Well, I do have an extremely busy schedule today but I guess I can clear a little time tonight. You’re very lucky I like you, you know.”

Jiwon rolls his eyes,

“Wow, I feel so blessed. What did you have planned tonight again? Lying on the couch and eating take out Chinese? It’s quite the sacrifice you’re making here.”

He can’t keep a straight face though and by the time he’s finished talking white teeth flash, lips splitting into a smile and he looks so beautiful Hanbin can’t help but lean over to kiss him. Jiwon kisses him back, smiling into his mouth and Hanbin is content.

Jiwon had work in the afternoon and has to go straight to the venue after so Hanbin heads over alone. Jiwon’s on at 9 but Hanbin get’s there a little early so he makes a beeline over to the bar and orders a drink. As he sips it he looks around, taking in the club. There’s a lot of younger kids, twentyish or so, dressed in ripped jeans and snapbacks and Hanbin’s only a few years older then them but he suddenly feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb in his slightly wrinkled button-down and blue jeans. Throwing back the last of his drink he orders another one and checks his watch, it’s 8:45, and stands to make his way to the raised stage at the front of the room. He’s surprised to see that quite a few people have already gathered near it, and as it grows closer to 9 more and more people crowd into the small space, pushing him forward and packing tightly together. There’s a thrum of anticipation hanging over the crowd, a tension that grows and builds and Hanbin feels himself get caught up in it.

Finally the background music playing fades out and somebody comes out on stage, introducing the line up for the night. Jiwon’s fourth up, and Hanbin smirks a little when he hears the stage name he’s using, Bobby. The first couple of sets are fine, and Hanbin sways along to the music, the two drinks in his stomach helping him to loosen up. Finally though the third rapper leaves and there’s a brief lull before Jiwon walks out. He looks good, he’s wearing a over-sized white tank top that hangs loose on his shoulders and exposes his collarbones and the curve of his chest, hair slicked back away from his forehead. He looks confident, comfortable, the mic in his hand looks like part of him and the way he smiles out at the audience is like the sun. There’s a low hum of voices that built in the interim but when Jiwon opens his mouth it quiets, everybody waiting, waiting, waiting. When the music comes Hanbin feels it in his bones like the beating of a heart and Jiwon’s voice is like lightning across his skin.

Hanbin lets himself fall into it, into the music and the sticky heat of the space and the feeling of the bodies next to him, lets himself fall into Jiwon. He’s electric, on stage, more alive then Hanbin’s ever seen him and it’s hard to compare the Jiwon who likes chocolate chip pancakes and extra caramel lattes and trips over his own feet sometimes and smiles like no one Hanbin’s ever seen before with this Jiwon. The colored lights of the club glint and reflect off the hard lines of his jaw and there’s a sheen of sweat across his face, his eyes dark and wild.

There’s a girl next to him, and she turns and grabs at his arm screaming into his ear over the sound of the music,

“Holy he is so hot, I’m so jealous of whoever is gonna be his girlfriend!”

All Hanbin can do it throw his head back and laugh, she doesn’t notice, attention already drawn back to the stage and eyes glued on Jiwon. When Jiwon’s halfway through his third song somebody throws something that flashes bright in the strobe lights onto the stage and Jiwon catches it one hand, not missing a beat. It’s a gold chain, thin and elegant it hangs from his fingers like a snake, and when a pause in the song comes Jiwon slowly slips it over his head, letting it settle around his neck, somebody lets out a loud whoop from someone the audience and Jiwon’s eyes fall on them and he smiles. Hanbin cranes his neck, trying to see who he’s looking at but it’s all just a writhing sea of people and Jiwon’s already moved on.

He meets him later, at the bar. He’s still wearing that tank top and the thin fabric is stuck to his skin with sweat, clinging to the curves of his collar bones and there’s something electric in his hands as he pulls Hanbin into a hug. Pressed against the planes of his body Hanbin can feel Jiwon’s heart pounding in his chest like the beat of the music. Jiwon pulls away, smile splitting his face nearly in to and the dim lights of the club glimmer in his eyes like fireworks.

“So, how was I?”

He asks, voice tight and high with excitement. Not waiting for Hanbin to answer he the tips his chin at the bartender and holds up two fingers. The girl pours two shots and slides them over and Hanbin waits for Jiwon to take his before he replies. There’s a quick sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue about how many fangirls Jiwon must have now or the thin gold chain that hangs around Jiwon’s neck like a badge of honor, like a uniform and the shape of the words taste like battery acid on his tongue, sour and unfamiliar and unexpected and he's shocked at himself for thinking them. There’s something so eager in Jiwon’s eyes though, something so open and honest and he’s waiting like a nervous kid about to get his exam scores back just watching Hanbin’s face and he melts. Like butter, like putty, like ice he melts in the face of Jiwon’s heat like he always does and always will and so instead he says so softly that Jiwon has to lean in close to hear him under the sound of music and people,

“You were amazing.”

At Hanbin’s words his grin gets even wider and his teeth flash white as he runs a hand through his hair self consciously,

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hanbin says, and smiles. Jiwon’s eyes crinkle, and he’s just leaning in to Hanbin when somebody taps him on the shoulder. It’s a pretty young girl, dressed in a tight jeans and a tight top.

“Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if I could have your signature?”

She says, holding up a paper napkin and pen with a glossy red smile. Jiwon looks a little surprised but then he grins and nods,

“Yeah, of course!”

Reaching out for the pen. As soon as he’s done another girl comes up and asks him the same question and soon he’s surrounded by a small pack of them. He looks at Hanbin over his shoulder, throwing him an apologetic smile but Hanbin just shakes his head and gives him a thumbs up. Even as he does though he notices that the sour taste on his tongue is back and realizes with a start that he’s a little jealous. Sighing he reaches for the shot glass still sitting on the bar by his elbow and takes it, wincing at the fire that burns at his throat. Leaning against the cool bar top he watches as Jiwon laughs and signs autographs and chats. It’s not the he begrudges him the attention, he’s truly happy for him but it’s hard. They’re both artists, in they’re own ways, but the art they make is different. Nobody will ever run up to Hanbin on the street or ask for his autograph or scream his name, not like this.

And he’s jealous, not because he won’t have that, but because in a way he has to share Jiwon now. Every time he goes up on stage he’s giving himself to the people watching, sharing himself with them and Hanbin wouldn’t ever try to stop him but it doesn’t stop him from being jealous. Because there will be people who think they know him, people who think they love him, and Jiwon won’t just be his anymore.

His thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of a hand on his elbow, and he looks up to see Jiwon.

“Hey, sorry about all that. It sometimes gets kinda crazy after shows.”

He says sheepishly. Hanbin waves a hand at him,

“Don’t worry about it.”

Swallowing away the bitter taste in his mouth he laughs,

“Look at you, you’re a regular rockstar, complete with groupies.”

Jiwon shrugs a little and runs his hand through his hair again. Locks of hair fall against his forehead and Hanbin has to resist the urge to reach out and brush them away from his face. Leaning against the bar he sighs,

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s still a little weird getting asked for autographs and stuff. But it means my music is taking off which is good.”

Hanbin leans next to him and nudges with him an elbow,

“Anybody thrown their bra onstage at you yet?”

“No, not yet. But hey, there’s still time.”

Jiwon says grinning.

“Well, if no ladies volunteer I’ll buy one and throw it at you myself if I have too.”

Jiwon laughs, throwing back at his head and Hanbin feels something warm bloom in his stomach because Jiwon only laughs like that for him, and no amount of fan's can take that from him. Just then somebody calls out Jiwon’s name from the deeper in the club and his eyes scan the crowd before he smiles and waves at whoever shouted at him.

“Hey, I gotta go talk to this guy real quick, he knows a lot of big producers and . Be right back?”

Hanbin nods and gives him a little shove towards the man who called out with a grin,

“Go get ‘em tiger.”

With a little wave at Hanbin he’s gone, absorbed by the crowd. He watches the spot he disappeared for a long time, as people dance and kiss and drink. Finally he turns, shaking his head a little and orders another drink.

It’s a while before Jiwon comes back but when he does he’s positively glowing, something small and rectangular clutched in his hand. He’s almost bouncing with excitement by the time he gets to Hanbin, waving whatever’s in his hand around. Hanbin raises an eyebrow,

“So I’m assuming it went well?”

Jiwon doesn’t respond just shoves the item he’s holding at Hanbin. Hanbin takes it, looking it over. It’s a scrap of paper with the word HIGHGRND scrawled across the top and a phone number written underneath.

“Hey, hate to break it to you but I don’t think you’re friend knows how to spell.”

Jiwon rolls his eyes but he can’t really manage to look annoyed.

“Jesus Hanbin you really don’t keep up on popular culture. Highgrind is like this sub-label of YG, Tablo from Epik High is the CEO and there’s a bunch of really legit musicians signed to it. He said he sent some of my demos over and they’re interested! This is seriously huge Hanbin!”

“For real?”

Jiwon nods vigorously, hair bouncing against his forehead.

“Wow, Jiwon, I-I don’t know what to say. Congratulations!”

Hanbin says, handing back the piece of paper to Jiwon who holds it in his hand like it’s made out of gold, which, Hanbin muses, if everything works out it might as well be. And he’s happy for him, he truly is, happy to see the light in his eyes and the way his hands shake a little with excitement and how he doesn’t look so hungry or so thin anymore. There’s a small part of him though, a selfish, scared, insecure part, that can’t help but feel like he’s about to be left behind. Because if Jiwon makes it big, which Hanbin has no doubt he will, how can Hanbin compare to everything the world he’s going to has to offer? Because where he’s going is bright and beautiful and full of people who will want him and love him and what can Hanbin ever give that will measure up to that. He’s just a boy who loves to paint, just a boy who loves Jiwon, just a boy that left him once. But he smiles because he knows this is Jiwon’s dream, he can’t stop him from following it, doesn’t want to. He’d be the biggest hypocrite in the world if he did. He wonders, as Jiwon orders another round, if this isn’t a sort of a karma. Wonders if the world gave him this happiness just to take it away. The vodka burns in his throat like fire and he welcomes the feeling.

Later they take the subway back. It’s mostly empty, the only other person at the other end of train car. He’s quiet, and he can feel Jiwon’s questioning eyes on him, but he doesn’t say anything till they’re off the subway and walking home. The question when it comes is hushed and hesitant.

“Is something the matter?”

Hanbin just bites his lip and looks away. He doesn’t want to talk about it because he’s afraid that if he says it out loud all his fears will sound pathetic under the street lamps and stars, because he’s afraid of what Jiwon will think of him once the words leave his lips. He keeps walking but then he feels a gentle hand around his wrist and he turns back to see that Jiwon has stopped in the middle of the street, face concerned.

“Come on, Hanbin, talk to me. Did something happen at the club?”

Hanbin shakes his head, still looking down. He tries to pull away but Jiwon is insistent and his fingers just tighten a little. Softly, he asks,

“Did I do something?”

Hanbin shakes his head, and suddenly there are tears pricking at the back of his eyes sharp and insistent as the hand on his wrist. He bites them back angrily because he’s acting stupid and Jiwon is good, so good, and he doesn’t know why he’s so upset about this. Why he’s being so selfish now.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s not you.”

His voice cracks and Jiwon finally lets go of his wrist, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had slipped free from Hanbin’s treacherous eyes.

“Hey, babe, don’t cry,”

He says, worry bleeding into his voice as he pulls Hanbin into a hug. He lets his face rest against Jiwon’s shoulder, breathes in the smell of his cologne and under it the scent of sweat and spilled drinks and cheap beer. Finally he takes a deep breath and not looking at Jiwon says,

“I’m just… I’m just scared I’m going to lose you.”

Jiwon pulls back, expression somewhere between shocked and confused. Hanbin just barrels on before he loses his nerve.

“Tonight, tonight you were-you were incandescent, Jiwon. And all those people, they loved you. All those girls loved you, and the bigger you get the more people are gonna love you and I just… I’m so scared I’m going to lose everything we have just when we got it back.”

Finally his breath runs out and he looks down, embarrassed and shaky but then he feels fingers against his chin and Jiwon is tilting his face up till there’s nowhere else to look but at him.

“Hanbin, I could never forget you, or leave you, or anything like that. I owe everything to you, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. Before you came back I was… well I was a mess. You inspired me to work on my music again, to make it better. You saved me Hanbin. And even if I somehow manage to make it, I’ll never forget that. There’s no one could ever replace you. Believe me, Hanbin.”

“I do,”

Hanbin whispers, like a promise, like a prayer, and Jiwon leans forward till their foreheads press together and his breath on Hanbin’s lips tastes like hope. They stand like that for a while, in a pool of soft yellow lamplight and finally Jiwon takes Hanbin’s hand and leads him down the street and up the stairs and into his apartment, into his bed. Hanbin lays his head on Jiwon’s chest and listens to the steady sound his heartbeat.

“Jiwon?”

“Hmmm?”

Jiwomn hums, and the sound vibrates against Harbin's skin.

“I don’t want things to ever change.”

His voice rings loud in the darkness, and when Jiwon replies his voice is soft with sleep.

“I know, me neither.”