The Games We Play [1/2]

Nov 05, 2011 05:02


This story turned out far differently than I’d imagined it would, but that’s what happens when I let the words go where they will. So please enjoy this, the longest single thing I have ever written (including term papers). Comments are always appreciated ^_^

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It was a Friday night; the start of one of those exceedingly rare weekends when Jiyong and the rest of the boys of Big Bang had no obligations. On these weekends (hell, on most weekends in general), Jiyong and Seunghyun would gather a group of friends and take over the hotspot of their choice. Tonight was no exception.

The club was packed, as usual, and there were more scantily-clad women than Jiyong thought he could handle. And Jiyong could handle a lotof scantily clad women. It was kind of his thing. Well, that and drinking to excess.

That he had gotten down to a science, an art. It was almost beautiful the way he could drink and drink and never once forget what he’d done the night before. His friends, however, weren’t so lucky (or as he liked to call it, skilled). Especially Seunghyun.

The man came out with him at least twice a week, and nine times out ten Jiyong ended up calling a driver for him because he couldn’t even function enough to do it himself  by the end of the night. Admittedly, the end of the night was usually the literal end of the night, as they often wouldn’t leave the club until 4 in the morning.

Regardless of the time, the fact remained that Seunghyun could not hold his liquor, and it often fell to Jiyong to take care of him when he drank more than he could handle. It already looked like tonight was going to end up being one of those nights.

The tall brunette was dancing. That meant he was drunk. He was dancing in a crowd of women. That meant he was blitzed. Normally Jiyong had to beg him or drag him along if he wanted him to dance with the group of male friends they usually showed up with. It was a fight to get the man to relax enough to even speak to the women who’d flit about their circle. Now he was moving his hips to the music, eyes closed, a cigarette dangling from his lips, while three -or was it four?- girls in clothing that could hardly qualify as such writhed around him, putting their hands places he knew Seunghyun wouldn’t tolerate were he anywhere close to coherent.

Jiyong weighed his options. He could leave his hyung to the wolves, and possibly have a terribly guilty conscience for several days, or he could step in and save him from a situation he was sure to regret, assuming he remembered any of this the next morning. In the interest of being a good friend, he decided to extricate Seunghyun from the grasp of the succubae, one of whom was groping him while he swayed back and forth, totally unaware.

“Yo, hyung! Time to go,” he called, squeezing in between one of the girls and sending all four -it was four!- of them a scathing glare. He pulled the cigarette from the other’s lips and stomped it out on the floor, worried less about making a mess and more about whether or not his hyung was going to burn a hole in his chin or his shirt.

Seunghyun looked down at Jiyong from his height advantage and grinned.

“Jiyongie!”

Oh yeah, he was trashed. Seunghyun only called him ‘Jiyongie’ when he was sloshed beyond reason.

“You look really pretty tonight,” he gushed, clasping the smaller man’s head in his hands and smooshing his cheeks together so his lips poked out in a grotesque imitation of a fish face.

Ok, he wasn’t trashed, or blitzed… he was gone. He wasn’t even in the building. Jiyong wrenched his face from the other’s grip and grabbed him by the arm.

“Alright, you’re comin’ with me. Right. Now.”

There was no further discussion, no protestation from the older man, just Jiyong dragging Seunghyun bodily through the crowd, down the stairs (one step at a time, slowly), and outside into the warm summer air.

“Could you call us a cab, please?” he asked one of the valet attendees. He was still too drunk to drive home, and he wasn’t about to let his hyung continue to make a fool of himself in the club while he attempted to sober up.

They stood in silence until the cab arrived. Jiyong had to haul Seunghyun upright several times, as he had a tendency to lean on his smaller friend until he was forced to shove him back onto his own two feet. When the taxi finally pulled up to the curb, Jiyong yanked open the door and pushed the other man into the back.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked.

Jiyong looked at Seunghyun, who was sprawled awkwardly across the middle and right seats. He blinked a few times, smiling, and Jiyong sighed. He was not drunk enough for this.

“What’s your address, hyung?” he questioned, shaking the man’s shoulder to get him to focus.

He mumbled a barely intelligible answer, and Jiyong repeated it to the driver. After they set out, he slid over and buckled his friend into a seatbelt. It took more work and more of a hands-on approach than he was expecting, but Seunghyun didn’t say a word… he did giggle, however, when Jiyong’s fingers would poke him in the process of fastening the belt.

“Stop it, Yongie-yah,” he laughed, shoving Jiyong’s shoulder.

Jiyong raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Yongie-yah’ was new. He rolled his eyes. It was like Seunghyun turned into a child when he got drunk; totally helpless, and so… so damn cutesy.

“Why do I even bother?” he sighed, finally clicking the lock into place.

Seunghyun reached over and grabbed his chin.

“Because you love me,” he tittered, making kissy faces and generally cracking himself up.

Jiyong had forgotten that when Seunghyun got this drunk, he also got handsy. Really handsy. When sober he was fond of smacking his dongsaengs upside the head, or maybe pinching them on the arm or leg, but that was as far as he ever went with the touching. When he was out of his mind like he was now, though… Jiyong could only imagine the harassment he was about to experience.

In truth, he didn’t hate it when Seunghyun touched him; quite the opposite, actually. Jiyong wasn’t just a ladies’ man, though he’d never let the rest of the world find that out. He was a ladies’ man, and a men’s man, if that was even a thing. He’d probably taken home as many guys as girls in his years of clubbing, and he’d been very sure to be incredibly discreet about it. He doubted anyone had discovered his penchant for hot guys. If they had, it would be all over the news and ruining his career so quickly and thoroughly he wouldn’t even be able to tell he’d had a career. Such were the hazards of being a bisexual idol in Korea, but he made it work.

Right now he had to work on concentrating on getting his drunken hyung into his apartment. He paid the driver when they pulled up to Seunghyun’s building, unbuckled their seatbelts, and slung one of the bigger man’s arms over his should so he could hobble both of them into the white monstrosity.

“Hey, Hyunwoo!” Seunghyun crowed at the doorman, who let them pass with a shallow bow.

“8th floor,” Hyunwoo said, giving Jiyong a meaningful glance. When he failed to mention a number, Jiyong balked.

“The whole floor?” he asked, baffled.

The doorman nodded and smiled.

“Yeah. For what these places cost… well, you’ll see. Make sure he’s got his card key on him.”

With that bit of parting wisdom, he closed the door.

Jiyong shook his friend who seemed to be off in his own world, which mainly consisted of Jiyong’s hair. His fingers were running through it, twisting the black strands into loops and swirls. The younger man resisted the urge to grope his hyung in retaliation (just to see his reaction… maybe), and instead shook him again by the shoulders.

“I need your card key for the elevator, hyung,” he huffed, feinting back and forth with his head to keep his hair out of Seunghyun’s grasp.

“’S in my pocket,” he slurred, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Which pocket?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jiyong stomped his foot. “If you don’t tell me, I swear to God I’m gonna leave you right here.”

Seunghyun didn’t stop grinning. On the contrary, he waggled his eyebrows. “Back left.”

He was acting weirder than usual, which was saying something when it came to Seunghyun. He was awkward on the best of days, and Jiyong supposed it was part of his charm, but now he was acting like a horny, drunk chick, and it was weirding Jiyong right the fuck out. Carefully, he stuck two fingers into Seunghyun’s back pocket, trying his best to ignore the way the muscle there flexed as his digits slid over the smooth fabric, and retrieved the white plastic rectangle he found.

He dragged his hyung to the elevators and brought them up to the 8th floor without so much as another word.

When they stepped out into the entryway just in front of the door, Jiyong let go of Seunghyun’s arm. The older man slumped onto the floor for a brief minute before righting himself and frowning.

“Hey!” he whined, pulling himself up by the door handle. It took him a second, but he realized where they were, and he fished his keys from his front pocket.

They both stumbled into the apartment, and Jiyong gave himself a moment to be unbelievably jealous of his hyung’s spacious home. The moment passed, however, when Seunghyun kicked off his shoes, shoved past him, and stumbled face-first into the plush couch in his living room.

“Oh, homehomehome,”he babbled, rubbing his face in the cushions. Suddenly, he sat up and looked at Jiyong.

“You wanna spend the night?”

He slid off the couch and crawled over to his leader, grabbing his shoed foot. Seunghyun undid the laces on Jiyong’s sneakers with careful attention, and the younger man just stared at his dark head all the while.

“You have little feet,” he mumbled as he slipped the first shoe off.

When the second fell to the floor, he ran the nail of his thumb up Jiyong’s arch, and Jiyong couldn’t stop himself from sucking in a sharp breath at the feeling. He didn’t know what Seunghyun thought he was doing. He did know he should stop him, put him to bed, and leave. As soon as that thumb left his foot and began rubbing circles on his calf, however, he abandoned that that train of thought. In fact, he pretty much abandoned thought all together.

Seunghyun stood up unexpectedly and walked into the kitchen, leaving an extremely confused and now sexually frustrated Jiyong in the foyer.

“You want white or red?” came the older man’s deep voice. Jiyong vaguely hear the sound of glasses clinking over the blood that was rushing in his ears, on its way to places of a more southern location.

“Uh…”

A cork popped from somewhere to his left.

“Too late. All I have is red, anyway,” Seunghyun chuckled.

A few seconds later he was tromping back over to Jiyong with two very full glasses of wine in his hands.

“Here.”

Jiyong took the proffered glass, cringing as a few drops sloshed over the side and dripped onto the white tile at his feet. Seunghyun didn’t seem to notice the havoc he was wreaking on his floor. He put his glass to his mouth and guzzled its contents.

“I don’t think you should drink any more tonight, hyung,” Jiyong said, frowning.

Maybe he was just imagining it, but Seunghyun seemed to be flirting with him, and the alcohol was definitely a contributing factor. Not that he minded, not really. The man was sex on legs. He was also straight as far as Jiyong knew, and one of his best friends, and he was probably too drunk to be held liable for his actions at the moment, and, well… how awkward would that be the next morning? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I’m serious. I don’t even know how you’re standing right now.”

Seunghyun frowned right back at him and pointed to Jiyong’s full glass.

“I’m not that drunk,” he protested, “and I didn’t open a 200 dollar bottle of wine to dump it down the drain. Drink.”

Jiyong scoffed. Who spent that much money on one bottle of wine? Who guzzled something that expensive? The same guy who buys a loft like this. Sighing, he brought the glass to his lips and sipped at the red liquid until it was gone.

“Happy?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and holding out the empty glass. Seunghyun smiled devilishly.

“Nope. You gotta finish the bottle.”

“What?! Why? You finish it!”

“But you said I shouldn’t drink any more.”

Jiyong opened his mouth to reply, but Seunghyun was right. He had said that.

“And I can’t let it go to waste.”

Jiyong’s head was already spinning. He’d taken several shots at the club, had a few mixed drinks, and now he’d just drank a huge glass of wine. He was nice and toasty. And Seunghyun wanted him to drink more. A shiver ran up his spine at the possibility that his hyung was intentionally trying to get him even more drunk, though he was sure it was only his dirty mind imagining the unlikely reasons as to why that might be the case.

He looked into Seunghyun’s bottomless black eyes, contemplating. The other man’s mouth quirked up on one side, and his dimple pitted his smooth cheek. Jiyong felt the blood in his body course its way over his chest and up his neck to color his face in a bright flush he only hoped was hidden by the dim lighting. As that last glass of wine flooded his system, he made his decision.

The Games We Play

Rating: NC-17
Pairing: GTOP
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah not mine yadda yadda
Description: Seunghyun's had one too many. Jiyong takes good care of him.

fanfiction, games we play, smut, oneshot, gtop

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