“Are we on a date?”

It hadn’t taken the two of you long to find a place that was still selling food. Not being high as a kite this time, you were properly enjoying the meal like a person should. The flavors reminded you of happier times when you had eaten similar things. It was a little depressing that such things couldn’t remind you of home.

Jiyong choked a little, before staring at you with wide eyes. “Bwo?”

You only shrugged. “A date, is this a date?” You peered up at him curiously.

“I… um, Sunnie…”

“I know it isn’t,” you teased. “If I pressed down my chest more, and styled my hair different, I’d look like a guy.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You would just look like the world’s most effeminate man. However, wearing the comfortable, less than stylish clothes that composed your outfit, you weren’t exactly the ideal girl for anyone.

“I never said—”

“Yah, Jiyong-oppa,” you scolded, pointing at him with a finger. “Don’t insult me. I know perfectly well you aren’t a normal person. You’re just a rich guy posing as a commoner!”

Jiyong tensed up. “How… how did you figure that out?”

“Your clothes, the way you stand,” you said honestly. “I might not be able to see the labels, but the material feels too nice to be cheap.”

“Oh…” Jiyong was relieved. He was afraid that you had somehow recognized him in some way. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to remain just plain old Jiyong with you, not G-Dragon. If he could go back to being Ryuu for you he would in a heartbeat.

You only shrugged a little and returned to your food. “Maybe I should call you hyung instead?” you wondered.

He dropped his chopsticks. “A-Ani! Definitely not!”

You were more than a little startled. After all, you had jokingly called guys that before—Dongyul, Chulmoo—and hadn’t gotten this kind of response. They usually looked uncomfortable and protested, but not so vehemently.

“Waeyo?”

“B-Because you’re a girl!”

“Aigoo, Jiyong-oppa,” you cooed, smirking. “Do you have a crush on me? So kyeopta!”

“Aish,” he growled, picking up the chopsticks again. “I’m too old for crushes, Sunnie.”

“Then you’re in love with me?!” you yelp. “Omo, Jiyong-oppa, this is so sudden…”

“B-Bwo!? Y-Yah!” His face was bright red.

Although there weren’t a lot of people eating around you, the ones who were definitely stared now. You blamed Jiyong’s embarrassment on that rather than any truth to your outburst. You didn’t really have any experience with men in a romantic sense.

Jiyong didn’t know what to do with you. You were definitely unlike any girls he knew. No other girls would dare accuse him of confessing his love to them and then pretend to be too overwhelmed to accept. Not that he wanted you to accept! It was a non-existent proposal.

“So where are we going after we eat?” you wondered.

“That… I don’t know,” he answered, looking sheepish.

“Your place?” you suggested innocently. “I’d invite you to mine, but my roommate…”

You didn’t want to share Jiyong with Kaede. Actually, that was the last thing you wanted to do. Kaede had all the Japanese grace and beauty of a geisha. There was no way that Jiyong wouldn’t fall for her, and that would devastate you. Even if Jiyong might not love you like you teased, you loved him. He’d sealed his fate that first night when he agreed to be the person that was there for you when you were at your lowest. He basically agreed to be there for you always.

It was good enough of a promise.

Jiyong worried more that your roommate would recognize him. “Ah, ne… perhaps my place would be better.”

“Got any videogames?” you wondered curiously.

His face lit up like a child told Christmas was twice this year.

Two hours later, and you’re kicking Jiyong’s . You’ve pretty much continued to beat him at StarCraft the entire time the two of you have played. You can pretty much kick at anything older than four years.

Finally, Jiyong tosses his controller aside. “Aish!” He whirls on you. “Wae? Wae are you so good at videogames?!”

“My brother and I used to play whenever we weren’t in school or doing homework,” you giggled. You paused the game and set your controller down more calmly.

“You have a brother?”

. You tensed up immediately and avoided looking at him. “Ne… He’s two years older than me.”

“Any other siblings?”

“Just my unnie,” you answered quietly. You were glad that you put the controller down. Otherwise, you would probably be cracking it your hands were clenched in such tight fists.

“What are their names?” Jiyong was just making conversation. He was completely oblivious to your distress.

“My oppa is Bonwha, my unnie is Chungcha,” you answered with heavy sigh.

Jiyong didn’t really react, so it was pretty obvious he hadn’t heard of them, or met them. But then again, you hadn’t told him your family name, either.

“We’ve lost touch,” you quickly added, not wanting to keep talking about your family.

Faking a rather convincing yawn, you stretched your arms over your head and arched your back. It felt really good, and when you dropped your arms again, you rolled your neck to ease the tension as well.

“I guess I should go home now,” you said. Pulling your phone out, you blinked. When did it get to be almost 11:30? Aish…

Jiyong frowned a little and looked around for a clock. “Bwo?! Sunnie, it’s almost midnight!”

“Geuraeseo mweo?” You only blinked at him.

“So it’s too late for you to leave on your own! How did you plan on getting back?” he wondered, frowning.

“Walk part of the way, and then bus, I suppose,” you answered with a frown. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Walk? Bus?!”

You eyed him. “Ne, I just said that. Wae are you repeating me?”

Jiyong scowled, shaking his head a little. “No, okay? First of all, I’m not repeating you. I’m exclaiming in disbelief! What kind of girl thinks she can go wandering around the streets of Seoul this late at night?”

Your face goes blank. “What kind of girl sells drugs and gets so high she goes home with a stranger?”

He froze, wincing internally at his way of wording things. Why did he ask you it that way? Frustrated with himself, and you, Jiyong just moved away from his TV.

“Follow me, you can just take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Bwo?!”

You followed after him curiously, eyes wide as you gazed around the apartment he lived in. There wasn’t really any change from the last time. You wondered if he still had his kitchen things set up the same, in case you got hungry.

Once in his room, Jiyong took the time to dig through his dresser. He was pretty sure you couldn’t just sleep in what he used for pajamas. He was a good six inches taller than you, so they’d just drag around your feet. As cute as the mental image was, he didn’t think you’d appreciate it.

He opted for a clean version of what you were wearing, digging out a pair of athletic shorts he would wear if he was going to practice. To go with it, he grabbed a baggy t-shirt, and tossed them at you.

“Is there something I’m supposed to do with these?” you wondered, frowning.

Jiyong sighed. “Go shower and change. I don’t have anything else that would work as a pajamas for you.”

“Ah!” You smiled at him. “Gomawo, Jiyong-oppa~”

While the older boy blushed, you skipped back out of his room and towards the bathroom you’d spotted on the way down the hall. Sliding the door shut behind you, you set the clothes on the sink and proceeded to dance around in victory. You were going to spend the night at his house again, and without being high! It was awesome!

“Hwaiting, Sunhi!” you cheered to yourself.

You didn’t take that long of a bath, you were absolutely sure. Well, maybe it was longer than you thought. After all, it took the average person about seven minutes to fall asleep. Not only was Jiyong sprawled out on his bed fast asleep, but he had also dressed down into a pair of pajama pants. To your surprise, the first tattoo that caught your gaze was the large Dragon Ball on his chest where the clavicle met the shoulder bone. You could only tilt your head. Did this mean he was a secret otaku?

The thought made you laugh. Jiyong, a secret Dragon Ball Z fanboy? That’d be hilarious.

Smiling to yourself, you saw that he had three more tattoos on his arms, with his right arm having two—words and a heart—and the left just having words. The words on his right arm read “Vita Dolce” and the one on his left “Moderato”. Why would this guy have “Sweet Life” and “Moderate” on his arms in Italian? Shaking your head a little, you looked over his chest. Under his left pec were the words “Mind Control” in English.

This guy is really weird, you decided with a little nod.

“I thought you said I got the bed and you the couch,” you grumbled.

It looked like he had been getting stuff for the couch. There was a blanket folded up on the end of the bed, as well as an extra pillow. But then he must’ve laid back and fallen asleep. Now he was sprawled out on his back.

“Aish, babo,” you muttered.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept on the couch before. That’s where he’d let you pass out the first night, afraid you would kill yourself or something if he let you roam the house. That was his excuse, anyway, although it didn’t make any sense to you at the time, or now.

With a heavy sigh, you reached out to pick up the blanket and pillow. “You’re lucky you’re attractive, Jiyong-oppa, or I’d never—yah!”

Your squeal was the result of Jiyong’s hand reaching out and grasping your forearm. With a tug, he yanked you down on top of him.

You were glad the room was dark, because your face was burning so hot you were sure you could cook on it.

“Y-Yah! Jiyong, what do you think—” You stopped abruptly.

He was still fast asleep.

Rubbing wearily at your face, you pushed away and tried to get up. It failed miserably. Jiyong just shifted his grip to be around your waist and held on even tighter.

“Aish…”

You squirmed a little, but he refused to let go. Huffing to yourself, you wiggled around a little so you could whisper into his ear.

“Neh, Oppa, you’re holding me so tight I can’t get comfortable,” you whimpered.

To your disgust, Jiyong loosened his grip on you and shifted against you so you were cradled against him. I had no idea you were one of those guys after all, Jiyong. How disappointing.

Acting like some love-sick girl about to curl up with a lover made your stomach turn. Hell, you’d just channeled Chungcha there for a minute, and you wished to get up and vomit. However, you didn’t move.

I’ll pretend you’re Bonwha for now, Jiyong. But I’m really unhappy with you. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable and pressed your face into his chest.

His skin was warm, and soft, which surprised you. You wondered not for the first time what he did with his free time. But you only  smiled a little and nuzzled at him.

Yah! Bonwha, Sunnie, you’re pretending he’s Bonwha! You pulled your face back and shook your head furiously. The heat from your skin would probably wake him up if you didn’t calm down. 

A sad thought that came to you made your skin lose heat almost instantly.

Smiling wryly, you closed your eyes and let your head rest in the crook of his arm. As you relaxed, you nodded a little.

Chungcha is more Jiyong’s type anyway. Stop getting your hopes up, Sunhi.

Elsewhere

Hyunseung collapsed onto the couch in the apartment with a heavy sigh. Doojoon joined him with an equally heavy sigh.

Bonwha looked up from his laptop. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got a new MV coming up soon, so all we do is practice for it,” Doojoon answered, before getting to his feet.

He disappeared into the kitchen for a couple of minutes, before wandering back out with two bottles of water. One he handed over to Hyunseung, who grunted his thanks. Bonwha watched the two as the simultaneously opened their bottles and proceeded to chug them down halfway. He wondered if the friends were even aware of how ridiculously similar they were.

“Is that why you both come back home at odd hours and proceed to pass out?” he wondered.

They only nodded a little in response. The following silence that ensued didn’t bother Bonwha, who turned his attention back to his laptop.

It was Hyunseung who broke the silence. “C’mon, Doojoon. We have to get up early to meet with that artist tomorrow. The one making the masks.”

“Masks?” Bonwha glanced up curiously.

Hyunseung nodded with a little shrug. “We’re having beast masks made for the video Doojoon mentioned. We’re supposed to meet up with the artist tomorrow so that we can make sure that they won’t slip off during the dancing.”

Doojoon groaned loudly and barely got himself up off the couch. “It’s probably going to be some weirdo doing the masks. Who else would it be?”

Hyunseung smirked a little and patted his friend on the back. “Gikwang hopes it’s a quirky artistic girl,” he explained to the confused look on Bonwha’s face. “He’s hoping she’s cute.”

“I’m surprised it isn’t Junhyung,” Bonwha said with a small smile, turning his gaze back to the computer screen. “Does this mean you all are missing class?”

“Ne,” Doojoon muttered. “But I’m sure there will be girls outside waiting to hand you notes for us.”

Hyunseung groaned a little, having forgot about that. He would have just apologized to Bonwha for the trouble. From what he saw, the older guy had his own fanclub of girls that would follow him around. At least it wasn’t exclusive to just the idols that attended the college.

“I just won’t open the door,” Bonwha said smoothly. “They’ll either leave them through the mail slot, wait for you to get home, or give up. It’s not a big deal.”

The two younger guys looked at each other, uneasy about the fact that the girls might wait all night for them to come home. They did have to realize it was highly unlikely that the girls would do that. In any case, it was most likely Bonwha’s plan was the best course of action.

“Had practice with this, hyung?” Doojoon wondered with a little smirk.

He only nodded. “I really was sick, though. I just hid behind the door until they left.”

The idea of Bonwha hiding like that was really amusing to them. But they didn’t laugh, too tired, and just wandered off to bed. At least tomorrow would prove interesting when meeting the artist working on the main part of their costuming.

Bonwha stopped typing to watch after the two younger guys. With a small smile, he turned his attention back to the computer screen.

Where are you right now, Sunnie? Why can’t I find you?