My Butterfly
Rating: G (kisses, unbearable fluffiness)
Pairing: G-Ri
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em ::sadface::
Description: Request for Aniah Ismail@Facebook.
The prompt: Jiyong is married to an autistic Seungri. This turned out even more AU than I thought it would, but it's also really sweet. Will end up being a two-shot. Unfortunately, I've been sans computer while writing this, so part 2 will come after I get home to my lovely laptop and away from my hell-spawned iPhone...
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagore
“Ri-baby, I’m home!” Jiyong called out from the entryway of his spacious apartment. He kicked his shoes off quickly and made his way into the interior of the place. There, in his favorite chair, sat the love of Kwon Jiyong’s life: Lee Seunghyun.
“Baby, you should be sitting outside today; the weather is so nice!” he scolded the other man playfully. He placed a kiss to his temple, and smiled as Seunghyun, who he affectionately called ‘Seungri’ (for he was Jiyong’s greatest victory in life), held up the copy of The National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies Jiyong had bought him for his birthday. Seungri's current hobby was cataloging and organizing information on every butterfly species known to science. By rote.
“I just finished memorizing the ‘P’s, Yongie!” he grinned, excited. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”
Jiyong ruffled his hair and nodded. “Okay. You get the water boiling; I’ll get everything else ready. I’ve got some really exciting news!”
After they’d sat down to eat their spaghetti, and before Seunghyun could get too in-depth into his enumeration of the finer points of the mating habits of Papilio glaucus, Jiyong cleared his throat to declare his big announcement.
“I’ve been offered a chance to conduct a few pieces at the London Philharmonic. They’re having a ‘Sounds of Asia’ festival, and they want me to be a guest conductor! Isn’t it great, Seungri-yah?” he burbled, pleased as punch that an establishment as prestigious as the London Philharmonic Orchestra would want him, a violinist-cum-conductor from the other side of the world, to participate in one of their concerts. He’d been more than flattered to accept. Seungri, it seemed, didn’t quite share his enthusiasm.
“But Jiyong-ah, I’ll… what will I do while you’re gone?” he asked, looking and sounding like a forlorn little boy. Jiyong didn’t let his smile falter, and he grabbed Seungri’s hand under the table.
“Don’t be silly, baby. You’re coming with me, of course. You go where I go, remember?” Jiyong said, wiping an errant smear of tomato sauce from his husband’s chin.
Jiyong and Seunghyun had been together, in some form or fashion, since Jiyong was five years old. Some of his first and best memories were of teaching little Seunghyun how to do things like ride a bike, tie a shoelace, and whistle. He’d even been one of the first -and only- people the younger boy would talk to. Seunghyun was different, it was true. Their mothers had commiserated often over his condition; something the doctors called ‘autism’; something Jiyong had him test for again later in life, and they learned was really Asperger’s syndrome… a disorder on the autism spectrum.
They’d been neighbors as children, schoolmates even when Jiyong’s mother had relocated them a few blocks away to a nicer apartment complex, and then… When puberty had hit, Jiyong knew what he felt for Seunghyun was more than friendly or brotherly affection. He hadn’t acted on his feelings for fear the other boy would shun him, or worse, feel obligated to return his feelings on behalf of their friendship. Seunghyun had trouble with social cues and appropriate social actions, so Jiyong didn’t want him to feel pressured into doing things he didn’t really want to do simply because he thought it was what he should do.
So when 15 year-old Seunghyun kissed him in his bedroom one day after Jiyong had finished playing Schumann’s Träumerei for him on his violin, he knew that was it: he was only going to love this one man for the rest of his life.
They’d married on a bright, clear day in June. Jiyong was 22, and Seunghyun 20. Ten years later, Jiyong was ever-more convinced he’d made the right decision when he’d gotten down on a knee one night after they’d made love, and asked the younger man to spend forever with him. The look he was giving him now, one of curious joy, only convinced him further that he’d married the sweetest, most adorable man on the planet.
“We’re going to London?” Seungri chirped.
Jiyong nodded. “Next week.”
“Next week is our 10th anniversary, too."
“And we’ll be spending it together in a beautiful city on the other side of the world. Doesn't it sound romantic?"
The smile that had been working its way back onto Seungri's face fell. He bit at his lips worriedly and furrowed his brows. Jiyong could see the gears turning in his head. He knew he was thinking about the enclosed space of the airplane, the crowds in the airport (not to mention at the concert hall), and the noise...
Seungri loved to listen to Jiyong play the violin. He adored watching him conduct as well, but a concert wasn't just Jiyong and the musicians. It was a writhing mass of people; people with whom he would be expected to converse, and conversation was one thing Seunghyun had never mastered. It was why he fixed small electronic devices in their home in order to earn income rather than persue a career as an engineer like his mother had hoped he would. He was happy with his life, and that was all Jiyong had ever wanted for him.
Right now, however, he looked distinctly unhappy.
"Seungri, honey... I'm going to be with you the whole way there. You'll have your own private box at the orchestra, and when I'm done conducting I'll come right up to join you. It'll be just like every other time you've come watch me at the Seoul Philharmonic, except in London. Plus... I've got a surprise for you."
Seungri's face lit up at that. He gripped Jiyong's hand more tightly and ran his thumb across his husband's knuckles.
"I have a surprise for you too! I've been working on it all month. It's for our anniversary, but... I don't want to take it on the plane, Yongie. Open it now!"
Jiyong chuckled at Seunghyun's eagerness, but he acquiesced to the younger man's demands without protest. Seungri dashed off to his workroom, and tromped back into the kitchen with... something... wrapped haphazardly in newspaper. He shoved it into Jiyong's arms with a huge smile on his face, then sat back in his chair and propped his chin in his hands.
"Go on; open it!"
So he did. Inside the rather lackluster wrapping was the most beautiful thing Jiyong had ever seen.
"You... you made this, baby?" he asked, voice hushed with awe.
Seungri hid his mouth behind his hand. "Yes. It's maple and spruce. The lacquer only dried yesterday, so I couldn't put the strings on until this afternoon. If you'd have gotten home any earlier, you would have seen me making it."
"And you still memorized the 'P's?"
"And I still memorized the 'P's."
Jiyong set the hand-made violin down gently on the kitchen table, as far from their uneaten food as possible, and pulled Seungri into his arms. The older man peered up at his husband with a look of total adoration on his face. Even after all these years, the other's talents, and the ways in which he used them to express his love, never failed to amaze Jiyong.
"It's wonderful. It's the second best thing you've ever given me." At Seunghyun's crestfallen expression, Jiyong continued. "Wanna know the best thing you've ever given me?"
Seungri buried his face in Jiyong's neck and nodded. Sometimes eye contact made him nervous, so rather than force it, he would curl himself into Jiyong, hide away. It soothed him, and Jiyong never minded being used as a pillow. But this time he wanted to see his sweet face, to look into his permanently dark-circled eyes. He pulled his blushing husband's head from the crook of his neck and kissed his lips.
"The best thing you've ever given me is every moment we've ever spent together, Lee Seunghyun. My butterfly."
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A/N: This is going to be a 2-shot. Jiyong has to give Seungri his surprise, after all :) Look forward to the second chapter when I get home to my laptop!
Pairing: G-Ri
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em ::sadface::
Description: Request for Aniah Ismail@Facebook.
The prompt: Jiyong is married to an autistic Seungri. This turned out even more AU than I thought it would, but it's also really sweet. Will end up being a two-shot. Unfortunately, I've been sans computer while writing this, so part 2 will come after I get home to my lovely laptop and away from my hell-spawned iPhone...
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagore
“Ri-baby, I’m home!” Jiyong called out from the entryway of his spacious apartment. He kicked his shoes off quickly and made his way into the interior of the place. There, in his favorite chair, sat the love of Kwon Jiyong’s life: Lee Seunghyun.
“Baby, you should be sitting outside today; the weather is so nice!” he scolded the other man playfully. He placed a kiss to his temple, and smiled as Seunghyun, who he affectionately called ‘Seungri’ (for he was Jiyong’s greatest victory in life), held up the copy of The National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies Jiyong had bought him for his birthday. Seungri's current hobby was cataloging and organizing information on every butterfly species known to science. By rote.
“I just finished memorizing the ‘P’s, Yongie!” he grinned, excited. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”
Jiyong ruffled his hair and nodded. “Okay. You get the water boiling; I’ll get everything else ready. I’ve got some really exciting news!”
After they’d sat down to eat their spaghetti, and before Seunghyun could get too in-depth into his enumeration of the finer points of the mating habits of Papilio glaucus, Jiyong cleared his throat to declare his big announcement.
“I’ve been offered a chance to conduct a few pieces at the London Philharmonic. They’re having a ‘Sounds of Asia’ festival, and they want me to be a guest conductor! Isn’t it great, Seungri-yah?” he burbled, pleased as punch that an establishment as prestigious as the London Philharmonic Orchestra would want him, a violinist-cum-conductor from the other side of the world, to participate in one of their concerts. He’d been more than flattered to accept. Seungri, it seemed, didn’t quite share his enthusiasm.
“But Jiyong-ah, I’ll… what will I do while you’re gone?” he asked, looking and sounding like a forlorn little boy. Jiyong didn’t let his smile falter, and he grabbed Seungri’s hand under the table.
“Don’t be silly, baby. You’re coming with me, of course. You go where I go, remember?” Jiyong said, wiping an errant smear of tomato sauce from his husband’s chin.
Jiyong and Seunghyun had been together, in some form or fashion, since Jiyong was five years old. Some of his first and best memories were of teaching little Seunghyun how to do things like ride a bike, tie a shoelace, and whistle. He’d even been one of the first -and only- people the younger boy would talk to. Seunghyun was different, it was true. Their mothers had commiserated often over his condition; something the doctors called ‘autism’; something Jiyong had him test for again later in life, and they learned was really Asperger’s syndrome… a disorder on the autism spectrum.
They’d been neighbors as children, schoolmates even when Jiyong’s mother had relocated them a few blocks away to a nicer apartment complex, and then… When puberty had hit, Jiyong knew what he felt for Seunghyun was more than friendly or brotherly affection. He hadn’t acted on his feelings for fear the other boy would shun him, or worse, feel obligated to return his feelings on behalf of their friendship. Seunghyun had trouble with social cues and appropriate social actions, so Jiyong didn’t want him to feel pressured into doing things he didn’t really want to do simply because he thought it was what he should do.
So when 15 year-old Seunghyun kissed him in his bedroom one day after Jiyong had finished playing Schumann’s Träumerei for him on his violin, he knew that was it: he was only going to love this one man for the rest of his life.
They’d married on a bright, clear day in June. Jiyong was 22, and Seunghyun 20. Ten years later, Jiyong was ever-more convinced he’d made the right decision when he’d gotten down on a knee one night after they’d made love, and asked the younger man to spend forever with him. The look he was giving him now, one of curious joy, only convinced him further that he’d married the sweetest, most adorable man on the planet.
“We’re going to London?” Seungri chirped.
Jiyong nodded. “Next week.”
“Next week is our 10th anniversary, too."
“And we’ll be spending it together in a beautiful city on the other side of the world. Doesn't it sound romantic?"
The smile that had been working its way back onto Seungri's face fell. He bit at his lips worriedly and furrowed his brows. Jiyong could see the gears turning in his head. He knew he was thinking about the enclosed space of the airplane, the crowds in the airport (not to mention at the concert hall), and the noise...
Seungri loved to listen to Jiyong play the violin. He adored watching him conduct as well, but a concert wasn't just Jiyong and the musicians. It was a writhing mass of people; people with whom he would be expected to converse, and conversation was one thing Seunghyun had never mastered. It was why he fixed small electronic devices in their home in order to earn income rather than persue a career as an engineer like his mother had hoped he would. He was happy with his life, and that was all Jiyong had ever wanted for him.
Right now, however, he looked distinctly unhappy.
"Seungri, honey... I'm going to be with you the whole way there. You'll have your own private box at the orchestra, and when I'm done conducting I'll come right up to join you. It'll be just like every other time you've come watch me at the Seoul Philharmonic, except in London. Plus... I've got a surprise for you."
Seungri's face lit up at that. He gripped Jiyong's hand more tightly and ran his thumb across his husband's knuckles.
"I have a surprise for you too! I've been working on it all month. It's for our anniversary, but... I don't want to take it on the plane, Yongie. Open it now!"
Jiyong chuckled at Seunghyun's eagerness, but he acquiesced to the younger man's demands without protest. Seungri dashed off to his workroom, and tromped back into the kitchen with... something... wrapped haphazardly in newspaper. He shoved it into Jiyong's arms with a huge smile on his face, then sat back in his chair and propped his chin in his hands.
"Go on; open it!"
So he did. Inside the rather lackluster wrapping was the most beautiful thing Jiyong had ever seen.
"You... you made this, baby?" he asked, voice hushed with awe.
Seungri hid his mouth behind his hand. "Yes. It's maple and spruce. The lacquer only dried yesterday, so I couldn't put the strings on until this afternoon. If you'd have gotten home any earlier, you would have seen me making it."
"And you still memorized the 'P's?"
"And I still memorized the 'P's."
Jiyong set the hand-made violin down gently on the kitchen table, as far from their uneaten food as possible, and pulled Seungri into his arms. The older man peered up at his husband with a look of total adoration on his face. Even after all these years, the other's talents, and the ways in which he used them to express his love, never failed to amaze Jiyong.
"It's wonderful. It's the second best thing you've ever given me." At Seunghyun's crestfallen expression, Jiyong continued. "Wanna know the best thing you've ever given me?"
Seungri buried his face in Jiyong's neck and nodded. Sometimes eye contact made him nervous, so rather than force it, he would curl himself into Jiyong, hide away. It soothed him, and Jiyong never minded being used as a pillow. But this time he wanted to see his sweet face, to look into his permanently dark-circled eyes. He pulled his blushing husband's head from the crook of his neck and kissed his lips.
"The best thing you've ever given me is every moment we've ever spent together, Lee Seunghyun. My butterfly."
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A/N: This is going to be a 2-shot. Jiyong has to give Seungri his surprise, after all :) Look forward to the second chapter when I get home to my laptop!