[Drabble] G/Ri/YB for Paper_Parasols
Another fic from BBFR. For Paper_Parasols. R for some naughty scenes.
Yongbae smiled at Jiyong. “Don't worry, it's our day off. I'll cover for you.”
Jiyong smiled, wrapping his arms around the other boy and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Aww, Bae, you're the best. What would I do without you, hmm?” Yongbae feigns indifference, but he can't hide the small grin that slides across his features.
“ For your sake, hopefully we'll never find out.” Yongbae snorts. Jiyong squeezes him tighter. “Mmn,” he agrees, “Let's be together forever, alright?”
Yongbae feels something tugging in the pit of his stomach at the words, and for a second the smile almost slips, but Jiyong steps back and it's back and brighter then ever. “Alright, 'Ji,” Bae laughs. “You said it, not me.”
Jiyong smirks, opening his mouth to say something, but he's interrupted when the door behind him creaks open, a small dark head peeking out from the crack.
“Jiyong, are you com - oh, hyung!” Seungri's head squeaks as it spots Yongbae. Red spreads across his cheeks. “U-uh, I was just. Uhm. Yeah...” he stammers.
G-dragon, just laughs, shoving Seungri's now completely flushed head back behind the door. “Anyways, Ri's getting impatient, so I'm gonna go 'take care of him',” Jiyong waggles his eyebrows at the other boy, “if you know what I mean.”
Yongbae rolls his eyes, shoving Jiyong towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun.” Still laughing, Jiyong slips into the room, hand slipping out to wave one last time before tugging the door closed.
The door closes with a sharp click and Yongbae's smile disappears. He stares at the closed door, face expressionless.
“Let's be together forever, alright?” Yongbae leans against the wall behind him and presses fingers into his scalp, trying to push the echoing words out of his mind.
“Bae, you're the best.”
And out of his heart.
Yongbae is a good friend.
A good friend.
And good friends don't do this.
They don't pull their door closed guiltily, holding their breath. Don't press their palm, their face to the wall between two rooms, don't listen shamelessly for the shaking gasps and muffled laughter of two bandmates in love, making love.
A good friend's heartbeat wouldn't speed up at the sound, eyes clenched shut as shaking fingers fumble to open too-tight jeans. Slip beneath damp cloth to stroke hard, hot flesh that aches for something that's not his to want.
But he does, panting against the thin wall and thrusting into his too-tight grip. 'Jiyong', Seungri moans, and only Yongbae's sharp, hungry ears pick up Jiyong's reply, low and hot.
'Fuck me.'
And Yongbae shouldn't but he wants to, pictures the other boy in his head, beneath him, rutting against him, wanting him for once. Not Seungri, not the last one he brought home, not the music teacher with the dark eyes before that.
Look at me. Yongbae pleads to the imaginary Jiyong, who moans, consenting, eyes open and watching Yongbae and that image along with Jiyong's keening cry a room away is enough to drive him over the edge. White fills his vision, splatters across his perfect little fantasy, then cools, fading away to reality and shame. To the knowledge that this was wrong, that he was going to do it again anyways.
And as always, he lays there, listening as they come, talk, fuck again, hand still pressed into his eyes. Lays there, motionless until their voices finally quiet and then with practiced movements he steps out into the darkened hallway. Tiptoes to Jiyong's door. Listens again, careful, before turning the doorknob soundlessly and slipping into the room, just another part of his twisted, perfect routine.
Inside there's a lamp still on, arm's length away and Yongbae takes a risk, leans forward to flick the switch. Freezes.
Jiyong's eyes are open, staring at the other boy.
Yongbae stares back, unable to move or look away, even as his heart pounds frantically against his ribcage. Because Jiyong's eyes aren't surprised.
I know, they say. I know everything.
Then Seungri, limbs twisted through Jiyong's and the sheets, shifts a little, murmuring something. It snaps Yongbae out of whatever spell he is in, and in a second he is out the door, crouching in the hallway, face red and terrified. He runs his hands through his short hair, eyes still filled with Jiyong.
Jiyong knew.
“Fuck.”
Yongbae smiled at Jiyong. “Don't worry, it's our day off. I'll cover for you.”
Jiyong smiled, wrapping his arms around the other boy and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Aww, Bae, you're the best. What would I do without you, hmm?” Yongbae feigns indifference, but he can't hide the small grin that slides across his features.
“ For your sake, hopefully we'll never find out.” Yongbae snorts. Jiyong squeezes him tighter. “Mmn,” he agrees, “Let's be together forever, alright?”
Yongbae feels something tugging in the pit of his stomach at the words, and for a second the smile almost slips, but Jiyong steps back and it's back and brighter then ever. “Alright, 'Ji,” Bae laughs. “You said it, not me.”
Jiyong smirks, opening his mouth to say something, but he's interrupted when the door behind him creaks open, a small dark head peeking out from the crack.
“Jiyong, are you com - oh, hyung!” Seungri's head squeaks as it spots Yongbae. Red spreads across his cheeks. “U-uh, I was just. Uhm. Yeah...” he stammers.
G-dragon, just laughs, shoving Seungri's now completely flushed head back behind the door. “Anyways, Ri's getting impatient, so I'm gonna go 'take care of him',” Jiyong waggles his eyebrows at the other boy, “if you know what I mean.”
Yongbae rolls his eyes, shoving Jiyong towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun.” Still laughing, Jiyong slips into the room, hand slipping out to wave one last time before tugging the door closed.
The door closes with a sharp click and Yongbae's smile disappears. He stares at the closed door, face expressionless.
“Let's be together forever, alright?” Yongbae leans against the wall behind him and presses fingers into his scalp, trying to push the echoing words out of his mind.
“Bae, you're the best.”
And out of his heart.
Yongbae is a good friend.
A good friend.
And good friends don't do this.
They don't pull their door closed guiltily, holding their breath. Don't press their palm, their face to the wall between two rooms, don't listen shamelessly for the shaking gasps and muffled laughter of two bandmates in love, making love.
A good friend's heartbeat wouldn't speed up at the sound, eyes clenched shut as shaking fingers fumble to open too-tight jeans. Slip beneath damp cloth to stroke hard, hot flesh that aches for something that's not his to want.
But he does, panting against the thin wall and thrusting into his too-tight grip. 'Jiyong', Seungri moans, and only Yongbae's sharp, hungry ears pick up Jiyong's reply, low and hot.
'Fuck me.'
And Yongbae shouldn't but he wants to, pictures the other boy in his head, beneath him, rutting against him, wanting him for once. Not Seungri, not the last one he brought home, not the music teacher with the dark eyes before that.
Look at me. Yongbae pleads to the imaginary Jiyong, who moans, consenting, eyes open and watching Yongbae and that image along with Jiyong's keening cry a room away is enough to drive him over the edge. White fills his vision, splatters across his perfect little fantasy, then cools, fading away to reality and shame. To the knowledge that this was wrong, that he was going to do it again anyways.
And as always, he lays there, listening as they come, talk, fuck again, hand still pressed into his eyes. Lays there, motionless until their voices finally quiet and then with practiced movements he steps out into the darkened hallway. Tiptoes to Jiyong's door. Listens again, careful, before turning the doorknob soundlessly and slipping into the room, just another part of his twisted, perfect routine.
Inside there's a lamp still on, arm's length away and Yongbae takes a risk, leans forward to flick the switch. Freezes.
Jiyong's eyes are open, staring at the other boy.
Yongbae stares back, unable to move or look away, even as his heart pounds frantically against his ribcage. Because Jiyong's eyes aren't surprised.
I know, they say. I know everything.
Then Seungri, limbs twisted through Jiyong's and the sheets, shifts a little, murmuring something. It snaps Yongbae out of whatever spell he is in, and in a second he is out the door, crouching in the hallway, face red and terrified. He runs his hands through his short hair, eyes still filled with Jiyong.
Jiyong knew.
“Fuck.”