Genre(s): angst, drama, fluff
Summary: Seungri is there when Jiyong needs him most.
Written for the gdheartri
Butterfly Kisses fanfic contest.
Prompt: You wish you could find something warm because you're shivering cold
Jiyong pulled his coat tighter around himself, shivering as he felt another gust of bitter winter wind. His teeth chattered as he looked down the nearly deserted road, his breath visible to him as he exhaled into the cold air. He tucked his chin into his fluffy parka as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. 4:09.
It had been thirteen minutes since he’d texted him. He knew it was unreasonable to expect Seungri to drop everything just to come and pick him up. The fact that he’d agreed to come at all, just out of the blue, was clearly more than enough.
Still though, Jiyong wished that other boy would hurry up and get there. It was freezing cold out and his ass was starting to get numb from sitting on the frigid curb. Sure, he could just go back inside his house to wait, but he’d rather freeze to death than go back there now.
So he braved the cold, stuffing his stiff and icy fingers into his pockets and pushing his face further into the collar of his parka until only his eyes were peeking out, making the few tears that clung to his eye lashes freeze in the frosty air.
No, he wouldn’t go back inside. Not tonight at least.
He’d stormed out during a discussion with his father, immediately texting Seungri to come and get him since he’d been in too much of a rush to grab his car keys on his way out. He’d been so furious- so angry that he had been shaking and had to take deep breaths to calm down once he’d gotten himself to the curb at the end of the block.
And now he almost missed the anger- his heart hanging heavy in his chest. Sure, he was still mad, but the pain inside him was cancelling that out right now as his inadequacies seemed to be piling up on his shoulders the longer he sat still. That’s why he’d up and left, ignoring his father’s shouts for him to come back.
But now that he was away from the arguments and raised voices- sitting down in a little ball- he felt the fight go right out of him, leaving him feeling weighed down as though it would take everything he had just to get up from that damn curb.
It was then that he heard the sound of an engine, dragging his eyes up from where they’d been fixated on the gray cement. Jiyong actually felt some of the weight pressing on his chest dissipate when he spotted Seungri behind the wheel, stopping the car just before he reached his spot on the curb.
“Come on,” Seungri said softly, stepping out of the car to help Jiyong up, his hand gripping the latter’s tightly- warmth flowing into his body from just the simple touch as Seungri led him to the passenger side of the car before walking around and getting into the driver’s seat, casting a concerned glance at Jiyong before starting the engine and pulling away from the curb.
“H-he thinks I don’t do anything,” Jiyong finally spoke, his voice shaky and rough with tears that were suddenly pouring down his face, “All he sees is a k-kid in art school, wasting his time and slacking o-off,” he sniffed, trying to calm himself, but unable to stop the flow of tears now that they’d begun.
“Ji, you know as well as I do that you’re not slacking off,” Seungri reasoned, “You work harder now than you did back in high school when you were earning the high grades that he demanded. You have barely any free time- you’re always either out shooting or in the darkroom printing or on the computer editing. If he can’t see that, that’s his fault, not yours.”
“B-but he doesn’t even care what I’m doing. It’s just art,” Jiyong sobbed, his face crumpling, “H-he’s never even asked to see any of my work. It’s my l-life! He doesn’t even care!”
“You know how your father thinks,” Seungri told him gently, “He doesn’t understand art. And he just rejects what he doesn’t understand.”
“He’d give anything to be able to t-tell his friends that his kid was off at some prestigious university studying biology,” Jiyong whimpered. Seungri felt his heart breaking from the truth in those words. His heart was breaking for the unfairness of it all. Jiyong’s father should be so proud of his son. But all he sees are grades and job positions- all of Jiyong’s hard work and passion lost on deaf ears.
“Ji, you’re so talented. Don’t let him take away from all that you’ve accomplished,” Seungri begged, hating to see the usually confident boy falling apart and doubting himself- looking like a lost and broken little boy. Jiyong nodded, his sobs dying down and his tears slowing their flow down his frozen cheeks.
Seungri pulled up to his house, turning off the car and leading Jiyong up the steps, into the warm entryway. He helped the other take off his shoes and coat, taking Jiyong’s freezing cold hand and leading him up the stairs to his room.
Jiyong stood next to Seungri’s bed stock still, like he was made of ice- his body almost like a hollow shell after he poured out his tears. Seungri pulled down the covers before helping the other boy out of his chilled and stiff jeans, putting him under the heavy covers.
“Ri?” Jiyong’s voice was small and hollow; even his form looking small under the big blankets, “I need you.”
It was barely eight seconds before Seungri was under the covers as well, wrapping around the shivering body next to him.
And slowly but surely, the shivering ceased and the tears dried, Jiyong’s body finally relaxing and melting into Seungri’s embrace.
The world was still cold outside of the cocoon they’d wrapped themselves in and they’d have to face it soon enough, but for now, everything was okay. And they were warm- warm and together.
And that’s all that mattered right now.