“Hyung.”

                Jiyong lifted his head at the voice source, his pair of eyes met the other brown pair; voicelessly intertwined with each other for the longest of time, drown in their depth.

                He slowly loosened his grip from his clothes.

                “Seungri…”

                Standing in front of him, was Seungri. Real.

                Physically and wholly there, holding plastic bags and buried under layers of outwears. Jiyong gaped at Seungri, watching his breath slowly steadied and sweats carefully rolled down his defined jaw.

                Seungri was all fine.

                He broke into smile, instantly jumped and tackled his maknae as if it was his last, pressing their bodies hard against each other, and breathed in his scent hungrily. Just like a switch, the bags Seungri’s holding fell onto the floor and he was quickly held back by a pair of equally strong arms, slowly and gently being lifted off the ground.

                Jiyong ignored it, instead he dug his head deeper onto Seungri’s fluffy hair, nuzzling his face mercilessly and tightened up his lock around the maknae’s neck as his feet slightly tiptoed on the cold floor.

                He was desperate and Jiyong could feel the same desperation from Seungri. He could feel their uncontrollable heartbeat drumming on top of each other, Seungri’s hot breath was caressing the side of his neck, and most of all the way Seungri desperately squeezed him so hard he barely breathed. It was the strongest and most comfortable hug he’d ever shared.

                He didn’t feel like letting go.

                He wanted that warmth to spread all over his body and freed him from the gravity’s claw.

                He—

                “Meow!”

                Jiyong and Seungri’s eyes right away popped open, searching for the voice source until their gaze landed on the poor close-to-death cat lying on the floor. Jiyong abruptly scooped him up and remembered all the fuss he was facing earlier. Ai was sick!

                “Seungri-ah!! Ai is sick! We need to bring him to the vet! No, no, the paparazzi is—maybe call her vet over is better. Where is his number?—wait, who is his name again? I don’t even remember that ing three syllable name!! Arrrgh, daddy’s screwed, Ai!“

                “Whoah, whoah, Hyung, calm down. We’ll figure this out, together, calmly. Okay? ”

                “But—“

                “There is no but, Hyung. Maybe, he’s just hungry.—“ Seungri suddenly stepped forward and leaned his face onto Jiyong’s, unknowingly caused the latter to flutter his eyes and gulped, Seungri’s dark brown eyes... “—See, I’ve guessed it! You didn’t take anything these past days, did you?”

                “N-no…”

                “I’ve known it. Most certainly, you also didn’t feed her, no wonder she is a crying mess like that!” Seungri accused loudly as he brought the bags he bought to the kitchen, swiftly putting on the apron he saved in Jiyong’s kitchen and started to unpack the groceries he bought. “Wait there. I’ll cook us something.”

                Jiyong only nodded as he threw his glance back at the limp cat in his embrace, guiltily cradled her. The cat meows slowly faded as Jiyong watched his maknae; Seungri was standing in his kitchen, wrapped in his apron, preparing their food.

                The sight warmed up his heart as the dim light shining his apartment suddenly turned warmer, replicating a perfect fall with comforting breezes inside his apartment with a welcoming serenade of the sizzling sound of soup cooking in the pot. He felt at home.

                 This strengthened his belief; only Seungri had the power to breathed life into his all, would it be him or his house. The maknae had rooted himself in his heart

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                “Hyung, it’s dinner time. Take Ai with you.”

---

                Seungri walked to Jiyong’s room, carelessly drying his hands on his pants while humming a lighthearted song reflecting his freed heart. He stopped by Jiyong’s door frame; Jiyong’s fragile and frail back was faced to him, most likely the latter was patting Ai to sleep. Turning out, Ai really was starved for days.

                He savored the sight in front of him, taking in the soft blurred melody Jiyong mumbled. He stayed and watched with all the adoration he had for the elder until the latter turned around and faced him.

                “You’re done with the dishes?” Jiyong asked, carefully stood up and carried Ai who was sleeping. He walked pass Seungri, eyes casted down before laying her down on her small bed.

                “Yeah. Good to know she was finally fine, Hyung.” Seungri came behind Jiyong and placed his hand on the latter’s shoulder, to his surprise, Jiyong jolted. He raised his eyebrow; since when did Jiyong go tense under his touch?

                “Ye-yeah, glad that you’ve come,” Jiyong stuttered, his face was flexed to a gawky expression, heart bouncing unrhythmic like a badly- composed symphony as he walked back to his room.  He quietly sat on the edge of his bed, unknown of what to do, “Ai’s all good now.”

                Seungri stayed in his spot, curling his hand in confusion while eyeing Jiyong who was bending his head. He quickly shoved his confusion away though, instead he walked over and cupped the latter’s face, inspecting his eyes while bending down on one knee, his face softened. “There’s more than Ai that is bothering you, isn’t it, Hyung?”

                Jiyong tried to cut their eye contact, but Seungri held their gazes firmer; Jiyong was an opened book for him. “Tell me, Hyung.” He watched as Jiyong forcefully diverted his gaze, body moved unsettlingly in front of his. So, he let go and held Jiyong’s hand for exchange, gently squeezed it. “You know, I’m here, Hyung.”

                Jiyong didn’t stir, eyes b with unspoken emotion. Seungri was here, fans were not here to judge, but he wasn’t settled. He wanted to nestle in those pair of strong arms but something was holding him back. He felt blank, but at the same time so full he felt like bursting. What exactly did he feel?

                Upon watching Jiyong who was deep in contemplation, Seungri lifted their joined hands and rose up, rolling himself so they were both lay on bed. He locked Jiyong up in his embrace.

                 Jiyong didn’t complaint nor did he nestle in Seungri’s arms which worried Seungri.

                “Hyung?”

                “Hyung? Are you off?”

                “Seungri-ah, do we—do we still appropriate to do all these things? All these hugs and touches? All these sweet hustle and sincere words we save only for us?” He finally voiced out his concern.

                “What do you mean with all these sudden questions, Hyung?”

                “Why are we attacked and punished now? Why do they hate us now?”

                “The-they’re not, Hyung.” Seungri tightened his arms around Jiyong’s waist.

                “They are. They’ve discarded BIGBANG’s photos from their commercial today.”

                “Ju— just sleep, Hyung. Don’t over think too much.”

                “I’m not.” Jiyong finally rolled around and faced Seungri. “I’m afraid, you know? Really, really afraid…”

                His eyes were bloodshot, burning tears dammed before his brown irises, hands gripping Seungri’s muscled arms firmly as if he was holding back himself, hot breath swiping Seungri’s facial hair. He was pained,“I don’t want BIGBANG to be effected.”

                He meant it. He didn’t want anything bad happened on BIGBANG. BIGBANG was his all. The hill he had climbed almost all his life, the shelter his boys and him had attentively stacked from scratch, the home that had met him with his maknae.

                He didn’t want to lose it.

                Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, shattering Seungri’s heart as Jiyong sobbed in his arm. Seungri didn’t say a word, only considerately caressing Jiyong’s back as the latter dampened his clothes.

                “I don’t want it either.  I—no, we will figure this out. BIGBANG will reign as long as we’re here. No one will depose its crown, not our haters, not our VIPs, and even more, not us. I promise you.”

                 He brushed away the hair covering Jiyong’s forehead and rolled so Jiyong could lie on his chest.

                “Now, don’t waste your tears anymore. It isn’t made to be wasted for these moments, it should be saved for award shows and concerts. You hear me?”He gently pressed his face to the elder’s hair, playing it while engulfing himself in the wrap of its fresh minty fragrance. He whispered some more sweet nothings onto the latter’s ear and patted him the way Jiyong had done to Ai.

                “You sure BIGBANG will be alright?” Jiyong popped his head, showing his swollen eyes which caused the maknae to erupt into laughter.

                Seungri nodded his head confidently and casually traced his thumbs over the trailed of tears his leader had left, impetuously planted a soft kiss on the edge of the latter’s eye to stop the tear.

                Yet, to his surprise, he was pushed. His eyes flew open almost as immediately, catching Jiyong who was looking at him with eyes wide opened.

                “Se—Seunghyun?! Why—why did you kiss me? Wait, Why—why did we even kiss, that day; on Youngbae’s date? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

                “What? I—I’m sorry, I just—it, it…” the words seemed like it had suddenly been robbed from him, Seungri couldn’t comprehend a thing. Jiyong’s right; what did he think? “Hyung…”

                “No, don’t touch me, Seunghyun. We can’t go any further than this. We’ll really harm BIGBANG if we continue.” Jiyong got out of bed and hugged himself, fear evident in his eyes. That short moment, he caught a glimpse of a new cut on Seungri’s left arm. His mind right away wandered to the sole executant who could cause it; the mass. The mass had hurt his Seungri. “We have to stop, Seunghyun. No more touches.”

                Seungri jerked up, “Hyung, You must be kidding.” He took a step forward. Jiyong took a step back. “Aren’t we just fine?” he tried to hug the elder, but Jiyong dodged him without second thought. His heart crumbled right then and there. “You—serious?”

                “We can’t spark this scandal even more. We- we can’t.”Jiyong irises fixed on the new cut his maknae possessed, sweat discreetly rolling down the side of his face, the hurt on Seungri’s eyes were oblivious to him as he took another step. His skin was shriveling, yells and curses were turning his room chaotic as he felt strong grips all over his legs and arms for the nth time. He gripped his door. “The—they, they will--“

                “Okay, don’t force yourself to talk anymore, Hyung. I got what you mean.” Seungri limply walked away. Once he reached the door, he carefully broke apart the elder’s grip from the door.

                He knew he shouldn’t dramatize it but he had the feeling that this might be the last chance he touched that hand. So he gazed at it with his sad eyes, rubbing that reddened hand while recording the warmth it provided him in the back of his mind.

                He squeezed Jiyong’s hand. “I’m leaving.”

                And Jiyong escorted him out, saying nothing while innocently and unknowingly crushing Seungri’s heart. He heavy-heartedly watched the latter’s back slowly disappeared from his sight. He didn’t mean to push away the younger, but at the same time he was afraid.

                Today, they just scarred his maknae. What about tomorrow? Or the next day? They might hurt him worse than today! The mass had proven they could harm his baby. So, he, most certainly couldn’t flame them up even more or else Seungri would be the victim again.

                 He couldn’t let that happen.

                His stare slowly shifted to his waist; Seungri’s strong arms weren’t encircling it. It felt heartbreakingly cold and empty.

                That night, he changed into Seungri’s favorite hoodie the latter had left in his closet, curling within its envelope as he snuggled inside his humongous panda doll’s embrace. Why couldn’t they just live their lives without the society judgmental?

                He had to get used to the cold and emptiness he felt without his maknae’s warmth.

---

               Seungri dragged his feet to the elevator. So many things were running inside his head. Jiyong had pushed him away. He didn’t want him to support him and it broke Seungri’s heart. But, as much as he wanted to stay, it would only wronged himself if he insisted on staying while the leader himself clearly didn’t want him to, wouldn’t it?

                He was so drowned in his thought that when he realized, he’d stood before his car.

                Someone was walking around his car.

                He didn’t bother.

                To be completely honest, he was sick and tired of all the questions and curses tagging him everywhere these past days. Moreover, he didn’t want to make assumptions, so he just casually walked closer to his car. “Excuse m—“

                “Oh!! Seungri!! Oh my God!! Wait,wait—I just want to give you something, it didn’t mean much, but, yeah…”A cheery voice cut Seungri’s words. But it soon faded as the speaker cowered before him.

                 The atmosphere tensed up and Seungri was more than surprised. A box was shoved onto him and he automatically stared at it. The giver wobbled nervously in front of the idol, unable to process words to clarify what’s the meaning of the sudden gift.

                In that instant and little detail Seungri’s gawk eyes had caught, a smirk tugged on his face and he kindly took the box. Years in the cruel and dynamic industry had taught him to recognize people. “Thank you, you must be a VIP, aren’t you? What’s your name?” He smiled through his tired eyes.

                The fan’s face lit up upon the idol’s anticipated smile, in no time the nervousness vanished and the atmosphere went back normal, urging the lucky VIP’s confident. “you!”

                “Thank you, you -ah” He got inside his car, rolling down the window as he understandingly knew the conversation had not come to finish yet. “It’s late and cold, let me drive you home as my thanks for your gift. My hyungs and I certainly don’t want our precious VIP to get sick, they’ll smack me.”

                They both chuckled at his remarked before a little awkward negotiation happened between them. In the end the idol lost and the fan’s won. So, being the man he was, Seungri followed the consequence. He unwillingly rolled his window up, “Please be careful and thank you for supporting us. you… I will remember you.”

                “Thank you, thank you so much!” the fan bowed repeatedly in happiness, the bows stopped after the nervousness kicking back with a strong debate whether it was okay to say what was intended to be said in such a circumstance.

                The debate was abruptly closed when the idol’s window nearly reached the top. It MUST be said!

                “Nyongtory, fighting!! We always stay with you, we’re VIP!!” It was a little bit louder than expected, but he smiled.

                The idol smiled and the fan was relieved.

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                “A certain dragon should have heard you too.”