BEFORE YOU READ: AGAIN, I want to remind everyone that I'm not trying to be disrespectful. I read your comments about this fanfic actually distracting you. And, although in my opinion it's poorly written, I really want to help all of you. I know how much it hurts... I keep breaking down throughout the day. Just stay strong. If you read my fanfics you know it takes me minimum a week to update. I've NEVER updated a fic after a day so it's obvious how much I want to make at least a few people feel better in these harsh times.

The first thing Seungri saw when he woke up were a pair of sad brown eyes. The tears made them sparkle under the dim light coming from the lamp beside the hospital bed. Jiyong was sitting stiff and emotionless on one of the uncomfortable chairs pressed against the wall. His gorgeous face was puffy because of the restless crying and his pink lips were curled into a heartbreaking pout. Jiyong looked hollow...

Seungri didn't notice his mother sleeping on the chair next to Jiyong, too distracted by the teary eyes of the boy. It seemed like they spent the night in his hospital room, waiting for him to wake up.

And suddenly it hit him... the image of Younbae covered in blood, the piercing sound of the sirens, the screaming. Seungri's weak body shuddered as the tears started rolling down his cheeks. He cried silently for awhile before Jiyong's eyes lit up as if someone had pressed an "on" button, finally noticing his best friend had awaken. Soon Seungri felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him and all he could do was cling onto the other man because he had no one else left. They stayed like this for awhile, embracing each other in an attempt to forget reality. They both felt safe, they both felt like home.

Jiyong was an orphan, having his parents leave him at an orphanage when he was 4 years old. His first real home was the one he shared with Youngbae but suddenly the place seemed hauntingly cold, empty. The silence scared him. He sold it and moved in with Seungri just a day after the funeral.

"He'll always be our friend, right?" Jiyong asked in an unfortunate deja vu while setting down a framed picture of Youngbae right next to the TV. The man was smiling as bright and lovingly as he always did, making Seungri feel at ease just by looking at the photograph.

"Always."

That same night Jiyong slipped into Seungri's bed, instead of sleeping on the mattress he had dragged to the apartment by himself, wearing just a white oversized t-shirt. His small body fit perfectly in the younger one's embrace. Seungri could feel his hyung's bare skin against his, burning him alive. How could have he stopped himself from wishing things were a little different? Jiyong was simply too perfect even when his doe eyes were filled with tears. 

For the next two months every single night Kwon would start crying when he made sure the other man was asleep. Little did he know his shuddering and hiccuping always woke Seungri up but he was too heartbroken himself to say anything. He would start crying as well but quietly, careful not to show his weakness. And although Jiyong burst into tears constantly throughout the day