If you asked Seungri what he thought about Jiyong, he would say he was weird. Weird because he was, well, weird. The man liked his non-alcoholic beverages in a wine glass, and he ate his food on a plate that had plastic-wrap covering it.

Jiyong had explained that it saved him from washing the dishes and that he felt more fancy drinking out of a wine glass. Maybe his single life was a blast, and Seungri felt like he was intruding in on it all.

His utensils swirled the with the food on his plate as he had never been one to eat a ton after a long flight. His brain was still programming itself into Seoul’s timezone, as was his body with the atmosphere and climate.

Everything was so much more different than it had been in New York. His parents had bid him goodbye with tears in their eyes promising to visit when they could. It was hard running a business and having to leave it even for a day. Luckily for them, his best friend Daesung had a meeting in Seoul the same day that Seungri was set to arrive at his new home. But even Daesung had to leave, and he wasn’t sure when he would see the man next.

Even though this had once been his home, Seungri was truly and utterly alone. An empty and vacant spot in his heart opens for everything new, but it was accepting nothing as of yet.

“I know you’ll probably want to rest tomorrow, but I’ll show you around if you’d like.”

Seungri ignored him and paid mindless attention towards his plate. Jiyong took a sip of his drink out of the thought of what to do next.

“Panda.”

The nickname always caused an automatic response as Seungri perked up looking around for who said that, regardless that it was only the two of them in the penthouse.

“Panda.” Jiyong sing-songed cracking a smile.

“Hyung, I’m not Panda anymore.”

“Your dark circles tell a different story Panda.”

Without another word, Jiyong grabbed some food with the utensils and placed them in front of Seungri’s lips. He nudged them with the food already making a mess until Seungri finally opened and took a bite for the sake of Jiyong’s sanity and of course, his lips.

He chewed until it went down and chewed faster as Jiyong stared at him longingly wanting to make sure that his Husband ate something, even if it was small.

“Tasty?”

Seungri nodded.

“Good! You won’t go to bed hungry, and on top of that you saved yourself from eating my own cooked food.”

“Hyung, are you still that bad?” He pondered with a knowing smile. Good, he was starting to loosen up.

Jiyong was bad. In fact, he was pretty ty. Growing up, the two Mothers often exchanged phone calls, and even though Seungri and Jiyong never got the chance to talk, Seungri often overheard Jiyong’s disastrous cooking adventures.

It was a blessing that the family had a fantastic income because setting the parts of the kitchen on fire had happened one too many times.

“It’s not my fault that the oven blew up. It was old anyway.” Came Jiyong’s defence.

That oven was ancient, and it needed replacing. If anything, Jiyong got the job done quicker and gave it a painless death. Unfortunately, it had resulted in being grounded for a month, and the next morning their Mother had hired someone to do the cooking for them. Go Figure.

And of course, when they were even younger, Jiyong had whipped up a little meal out of Play-Doh. Needless to say, the two frantic Mother’s had rushed them to the emergency room, and they all learned that Seungri got along quite well with the Nurses and Doctors. Of course, his endless blabbering was keeping them both busy, Seungri chatting away as Jiyong translated all that he could of his three-year-old talk.

The only difference was that now the both of them were grown up and not eating Play-Doh. And Jiyong was no longer translating Seungri’s lost words. It had all changed so much.

Seungri didn’t follow Jiyong around wanting to ask his Hyung about anything and everything. Jiyong no longer followed Seungri around wanting to do everything to get his attention.

Everything was different.

The awkwardness hung in the air and showed no sign of leaving so Jiyong knew he had to work with it best that he could.

“Well, how was life in New York after you left?”

Seungri blinked. A young child had a sharp memory, but there wasn’t much he could remember leaving Seoul at such a young age of three.

Seungri shrugged. “My parents opened up a small bakery, and it’s been doing well ever since.”

They had a small business? He really didn’t know anything about Seungri at all.

Of course, when Seungri had moved away, Jiyong had been upset for a few days, but luckily for him, it had been before the start of the school year, so his mind quickly became occupied with the school life later on. Hell, he now even clearly remembers running outside to play with his friends instead of taking the phone from his Mother to speak with Seungri’s Mother. It wasn’t exactly his fault either because the time difference was weird and Seungri would be sleeping, and Jiyong eventually gave up.

Now he wants to slap his six-year-old self.

“Oh right. What about Daesung?”

“My best friend that I met in high school. He’s a year older than me.”

That meant that Daesung was 22 which proved to be a bit of a shock. The man acted a lot older and mature. And like any best friend he probably found the whole idea to be incredibly weird.

“And he works as?”

“A Brand Manager. He doesn’t look like one if that makes sense, but he enjoys it.”

Along came another one of Jiyong’s forced smiles. Then a cough and a sniff. His Mother really should have let them get to know each other a bit better. But then again his Mother would have bothered him until no end to agree to the marriage. If anything by accepting instantly he saved himself a lot of lectures.

“And you’re still doing your undergraduate?”

“Postgraduate actually, I managed to get a scholarship for this year.”

Book smart. And in the looks department as well Jiyong’s mind snickered.

Oh.

And then it suddenly hit him.

This was a contract. An agreement. What was there to do once Seungri finished his studies? Where to from there?

There had been no thought put into the future other than the next 12 months.

“Are you going to work here once you finish your studies?”

Seungri blinked. “I was thinking of going back home.”

Jiyong knew he was placing too much emphasis on how Seungri referred to New York as his home. After all, he had now grown up there and not Seoul alongside him. But, the thought of linking it with their future, maybe Seoul would never be considered home for Seungri.

Seungri continued, “--That’s if you want to come back with me.”

If there was anything he admired right now, it was that Seungri didn’t seek his permission in any form or way. He wasn’t going to walk around Jiyong like a lost puppy, which is probably what Jiyong’s Father had wanted.

But darn long distance relationships .

“I’ll think about it,” Jiyong whispered. He hadn’t meant for his reply to come out like that.

Without another word, Seungri gathered their plates and utensils and headed towards the kitchen.

And Jiyong was left sitting at their dining table with the dim light above him. What a metaphor it was.

That was until a loud yelp followed by a crash came from the k