“Hyung?” Seungri whispers, sleepy eyes gaze into the stark blackness of the living room. He puts a hand over his mouth, yawning, and feels the wall of the hallway, looking for the light switch.

“Yeah, maknae?” Jiyong answers, somewhere from that darkness, voice hoarse.

Giving up on finding the light switch, Seungri sighs and carefully threads his way through the mess of a room, rubbing his eyes. The last time he saw this room, Daesung and Big Seunghyun had just held a console competition, which means games and cds and controllers were strewn around recklessly. His right foot falls on a CD and it makes a slight cracking sound, Seungri curses, damn, he’d have to hide the broken pieces later. He stretches his arms in the dark, blindly looking for an object to use as a guidance, until his knees meet soft, worn velvet of an armchair and he loses balance, falling horizontally, face forward onto the couch. He lands directly on top of limbs and pointy chin and wide chest. Jiyong groans, “What the hell Ri?” he asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “S-sorry hyung!” Seungri scrambles to get off the couch but a pair of arms pulls him towards the owner.

He stills.

Jiyong shifts to the side to make room for an extra person, and Seungri fills the gap between his body and the couch, he wraps his arms around the younger and closes his eyes. Seungri doesn’t ask why he’s not in his room, Jiyong smells like cigars and cramped up studios and it’s familiar.

If Seungri didn’t know Jiyong at all, he would think Jiyong is asleep, but he isn’t, Jiyong is rarely asleep. “What were you doing out so late?” Seungri asks.

Jiyong grunts, “Nothing,” he answers.

Of course he wouldn’t tell Seungri, but still—

“Were you in the studio?” –Seungri means victory, and he doesn’t give up. There is no reply, he takes it as a yes.

Seungri stares at Jiyong’s face through the darkness, his chest rising up and down in a steady rhythm, his breath is warm on Seungri’s face.

“We’re really going to have a comeback?”  

It’s not the right time, and not the right place. They could discuss it in the morning, or Seungri could not ask at all. But it’s been gnawing at the back of his mind for a while.

For too long.

It’s a question asked out of that dark, deep, secret place in Seungri’s heart, where he keeps all his insecurities and fears and anger. Where he holds them at bay, pushes them back if they threaten to spill out. But right now they seep in Seungri’s voice, lacing themselves comfortably around the words and letters, Jiyong must’ve noticed, because he opens his eyes to stare at Seungri, and his hands twitch, Seungri averts his gaze from Jiyong’s face.

Jiyong doesn’t answer, just keeps staring, and Seungri starts to fidget. There is silence between them, it’s filled with the fear in Seungri’s question and the horrible memories of events that had passed by that year, events that nearly cost Seungri BIGBANG.

Jiyong opens his mouth, and inhales,

“Yes,” He speaks up,

but his voice wavers.

“Yes, yes we are,” he repeats himself, clearer, this time—steadier—sounding like the surest person in the world. His tone and eyes scream to trust me, Lee Seunghyun, trust me, I will make this work, I will bring us back, trust me. And Seungri loses himself in those words.

He is silent again, and he can feel Jiyong’s gaze burning him, reading him. He closes his eyes.

“Okay,” he breathes out.

And there is more than one meaning in the word.

“Okay,” it’s a whisper, and then it’s quiet again.

It’s warm here, between Jiyong’s body and the couch. It’s warm and safe. Suddenly the week’s activities catch up to him, and he feels so so tired. Seungri can feel his worries ebb away as he floated in limbo, not quite asleep, but not really awake either. As sleep tightens its hold on him, Seungri could hear, through the clutches of drowsiness, words being murmured into his ear.

I’ll keep you next to me, so trust me.

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Well there you go! A little piece of nothingness ^^ Please read and comment? Comments mean a lot to me ;~; And also check out my other stories, thank you :D