Youngbae is late when he gets to the recording studio, behind schedule because of an interview that dragged on for way too long, so he slips in with his manager quietly, hoping not to interrupt anything. It's a relief to see just Jiyong in the booth, Teddy working the computer and the other members gathered at the break table in various states of exhaustion. Seunghyun has earbuds in and his eyes closed. Seungri is texting or maybe playing a game on his phone. Daesung has his head in his hands and is staring at a book with glazed-over eyes; Youngbae feels similarly. He decides to take the open chair next to Seunghyun, because it's tucked back in the farthest corner, and grabs a bottle of water for himself.
"That took a while," Seungri says without looking up from his phone.
"Yeah," Youngbae agrees. He twists at the ring on his little finger until the silence in the room feels weirdly heavy, and eventually looks up to find both Seungri and Daesung watching him. Seunghyun is, as far as he can tell, asleep.
"Didn't it go well?" Daesung asks.
Sometimes Youngbae hates how transparent he is. "It was fine," he says, twisting his ring more urgently.
"Did they make fun of you again for not having a girlfriend?" Seungri puts down his phone and grins, like it's a joke they haven't all heard a million times before.
"They didn't make fun of me," Youngbae says.
Daesung looks over his shoulder for confirmation from Youngbae's manager, who offers, "They were asking a lot of questions about girls."
Youngbae visualizes throwing his water bottle at his manager's head, and it helps a little. "It wasn't a big deal," he says, getting up so he can nonchalantly survey the table for snacks. The only thing there is shredded squid—too salty for his diet, but he takes some anyway.
"Don't worry, Hyung," Seungri says, slapping Youngbae on the back in a mockery of reassurance. It makes him choke on squid. "You'll find the right girl. Not all of us can be so gifted at dating."
Youngbae visualizes throwing his water bottle at Seungri's head next, and when that doesn't help, something heavier, like a chair.
"Seungri's just extra full of himself because he's seeing that cute bartender from Double Eight tonight," Daesung says, rolling his eyes.
"You're seeing her again?" Jiyong emerges from the booth, sweaty but bright-eyed, and flashes a grin at Seungri. "Lucky. I love her style, she wears the greatest shoes."
Teddy swivels around in his chair before Seungri can preen too much under the attention and says, "Okay, we only need Taeyang and Seunghyun now. The rest are free to go."
Jiyong and Seungri cheer, and Jiyong kicks Seunghyun's chair so he jerks and pulls out his earbuds. "You're up," he says. "Better work hard if you want to be done in time for your hot date."
Seunghyun stands, looking embarrassed but also plenty pleased with himself.
"Does everybody have dates tonight?" Youngbae asks.
"Jiyong and Seunghyun are going clubbing," Daesung clarifies, but they all know that essentially means a date, only with more girls. "I'm going back to the dorms."
Youngbae nods, a little dazed.
Daesung shoulders his bag and pulls out his headphones before pausing to ask, "Do you want me to wait to work out with you?"
"Yeah," Youngbae says, "sure. If I'm not too late."
"Wait." Jiyong grabs Youngbae by the shoulders and whirls him around so they're face-to-face. "What happened? Did they tease you about girls again?"
It's an immense relief when Teddy calls Youngbae into the booth first.
"You know," Daesung says breathlessly, stepping off the treadmill next to Youngbae's, "not to let them get to you, right?" He dabs sweat away from his face with his shirt and adds, "Especially Seungri."
Youngbae frowns and keeps his eyes straight forward, knuckles gripping the handlebar. "I don't care if they go on dates," he says.
Daesung nods as he takes a drink of water, sits down on the floor next to Youngbae's treadmill, and then lies down next to it, arms sprawled out at his sides. "Aish, I don't know how you do it, Hyung."
He wants to be crabby with Daesung, but Youngbae can't help but smile down at him. "You can't be tired already," he says, amused.
"You're not even human." Daesung flicks him off and covers his face with his arm in the same motion and Youngbae laughs, hard enough that it throws off his pace completely and he has to stop. He sits down on the treadmill and mops his own face off, and Daesung rests his head against Youngbae's foot.
"Is it still your goal to get a girlfriend this year, Hyung?"
Youngbae's stomach drops and the smile fades from his face. Why does it always have to come back to this? "Yeah, I guess," he says.
"Okay," Daesung says. "From here on out, it's our shared goal."
"You want to get a girlfriend too?" Youngbae doesn't know why it seems odd to him, but Daesung never really talks about dating; it's never seemed to concern him much.
"No," Daesung says. "I'm going to help you get a girlfriend."
Youngbae rubs the back of his head, swallowing. "I don't think that's really a good idea," he says thickly.
Daesung rolls onto his stomach and beams at him, with such intensity that Youngbae looks away. "No, it's perfect! I'm secretly really good at this kind of thing. I just let Seungri and the hyungs have all the girls because it makes them feel better."
"Right." Youngbae can't help it; he snorts out his laughter and then can't stop, his entire frame shaking with it.
"I'll choose not to be offended by that," Daesung says coolly. He stands up and shakes damp bangs out of his eyes. "Okay, it's settled. Tomorrow I start to produce you. You'll have girls knocking down your door by next month."
"Daesung . . ." Youngbae says.
Daesung waves him off, heading toward the showers without another word. Youngbae should keep going for another fifteen minutes at least, just like he should put a stop to whatever Daesung thinks he's doing before it gets out of hand. But Daesung has a strange pull about him and Youngbae feels himself giving in to it, following him to the showers just a few seconds later, resigned.
Youngbae is an early riser, especially on nights he doesn't sleep well, which occur all too frequently these days. He's surprised, then, when he rises the next morning to find Daesung in the kitchen, not only up before him but dressed and ready for the day, leg jiggling impatiently as he pages through a book.
"About time!" Daesung says, snapping the book shut. "I was just about to wake you up!"
"Did we . . . have something scheduled?" Youngbae opens the fridge and goes for the eggs, but Daesung jumps up and grabs the carton away from him, stuffing it back inside and shutting the door.
"Hey!" Youngbae protests.
"Get dressed! We're going out for breakfast and then we're going shopping."
"I'm too tired," Youngbae moans, but forty minutes later they're in Daesung's car driving to a place Daesung assures him he's going to love, heavily layered so as to be incognito as possible.
It's a tiny restaurant on a back street behind a shopping center, but Youngbae is surprised at how charming the setting is; the street has lots of trees, cobblestone sidewalks and a little creek running alongside it, and the restaurant itself is hidden away but quaint, with big bright windows and mismatched china. For now at least they're the only people there, which is ideal for idols trying to have a quiet meal.
"It's run by just the one guy, so food takes forever," Daesung informs him, after they've sat down and placed their orders. "But it's really good, and there's almost never anybody else here."
"It's great," Youngbae says approvingly. He picks up his plate and tries in vain to read the English printed around the sides.
"This is the perfect atmosphere for a date," Daesung says, startling Youngbae enough that he almost drops the plate. "Here, I brought your notebook so you could write some things down."
"What?" Youngbae laughs, uncomfortable. "When did you get this?"
"While you were in the shower. Here's a pen."
Youngbae isn't sure if he should feel flattered that Daesung is taking such a serious interest in his romantic life or annoyed, but he accepts the notebook with a half-smile. "Thanks?"
In lieu of a response, Daesung wags the pen in Youngbae's face until he takes that, too. "It's important, especially on the first date, to go somewhere like this, where you can be relatively private and not run the risk of a lot of fans mobbing you."
"Uh-huh." Youngbae twirls the pen in his fingers and stares, transfixed, at this Daesung he's never met before.
"And even though it's kind of smokey, the environment is good, you know? It's quiet so you can have a real conversation, and it has character so she'll be impressed by your taste." He pauses and points at Youngbae's notebook. "Why aren't you writing this down?"
"Oh." Youngbae bows his head and starts to write as quickly as he can.
The restaurant owner brings their food shortly thereafter, and Youngbae continues scratching out notes as he eats until he's satisfied he's got the important points down. When he looks up, Daesung is watching him closely.
"What?" Youngbae asks.
"Nothing." Daesung smiles. "It's nice, isn't it?"
"What is?"
Daesung looks awkward suddenly, and he averts his gaze to the window, finger-combing his hair. "Just being out like this."
For some reason, Youngbae gets the sense he just hurt Daesung's feelings. "It is nice," he agrees, hoping to make up for whatever he did. Daesung's smile shifts back into place and everything feels right again.
They finish their meal but linger at the restaurant for a long time after, chatting mostly about music and a little about superhero movies. Youngbae feels more relaxed than he has in a while, and when they leave and start strolling down the sidewalk he's almost forgotten why they went out in the first place.
"We're going in here first," Daesung says, pointing at a tiny boutique Youngbae would have passed up without a second glance if he wasn't looking for it. "I think we need to make a couple slight adjustments to your style."
Youngbae's shoulders droop at the reminder of the task at hand. "I have a team of personal stylists in charge of how I look, Daesung," he says, sharper than intended. "Do you really think you're going to do something for me they can't?"
"But they're in charge of Taeyang's style," Daesung says. "You need to have a distinct Youngbae style, too, so she can see there's more going on beneath the surface." Youngbae looks at him sideways, but Daesung doesn't seem to think he's said anything ridiculous at all. "It's all about the element of mystery," he adds.
By the time they've finished browsing boutiques, three hours have passed and the only thing Youngbae has to show for it is a couple new white t-shirts and a baseball cap. Daesung is obviously disappointed, and no matter what he says, Youngbae can tell he's definitely offended that Youngbae rejected the jacket Daesung wanted him to buy on the grounds that it was "mortifying."
"We can work on fashion another time," Daesung sighs as they climb into the car. Youngbae just shakes his head, but he takes some belated shopping notes while Daesung drives anyway to improve his mood, and it seems to work.
"Do you want to watch cartoons when we get home?" Daesung asks excitedly, and Youngbae can't really think of a better way to end a surprisingly enjoyable day.
On Sunday, Youngbae wakes up to Daesung shaking him and leaning in way too close.
"Hyuuuung," he whines next to Youngbae's ear, "you've been asleep for forever."
Youngbae rolls onto his side and blinks at his alarm clock, surprised to have slept as soundly as he did. He and Daesung were up kind of late watching One Piece, but after going to bed he didn't wake up with anxiety once. Maybe it's because they actually have two days off in a row for the first time in as long as he can remember.
"I'm not going clothes shopping again," Youngbae says, yawning and wiping sleep from his eyes.
"Fine," Daesung huffs. "But we're trying out more date places today, so you should hurry up and get dressed. It's okay if we don't work out until later, right?" He doesn't give Youngbae enough time to answer before he starts rifling through the closet.
"What are you doing?"
Daesung doesn't respond, just pulls out item after item and spreads them over Youngbae's desk. "You should wear one of these shirts," he says thoughtfully. "And the green high tops would look good with this jacket."
"Get out and let me dress myself!" Youngbae throws a pillow at the back of Daesung's head, but when he emerges a few minutes later he's obediently pieced together an ensemble from Daesung's selections, for reasons he can't fathom.
"You look really good," Daesung says earnestly, as they bid farewell to Jiyong and Seungri, who are sitting at the breakfast table looking utterly perplexed.
Youngbae might not be sold when it comes to Daesung's fashion advice, but by the end of the day he has to grudgingly admit Daesung is really good at dates. They start out the day in an arcade, a location he would never have thought to bring a girl before now.
"Girls love playing the music games and stuff," Daesung assures him, after their fourth consecutive round of Taiko: Drum Master. "And you can show off your dance moves with Pump It Up."
"But I'm terrible at Pump It Up," Youngbae says.
"We'll have to work on that," Daesung agrees. "Maybe next time."
After a quick lunch at a street stall by the river—they run into a little trouble with fans recognizing them there, but it only takes a few pictures and autographs before they can make an escape—they go on to the National Folk Museum, which Youngbae also never would have picked for a date. It's actually a lot more interesting than he expected.
"This way she can see you're kind of cultured, too," Daesung explains, bending over to closely inspect a dangerous-looking piece of ancient farming equipment. "It's better to go on a weekday, but there's only so much we can do about our schedules."
"That makes sense," Youngbae says. He wonders for not the first time today why Daesung doesn't go on more dates with girls, but can't think of a way to ask without sounding rude.
"Shoot," Daesung says, glancing at his watch. "We have to hurry."
"For what?"
Daesung only grins and takes him by the arm, and Youngbae doesn't fight it, entirely trusting by this point to let Daesung lead him wherever he wants to go.
The last date event turns out to be a scary movie. Of all Daesung's excursions, it's the last Youngbae would have chosen, not least of all because he doesn't like seeing horror movies in theaters. He doesn't tell Daesung this, though.
"Matinees are good because there aren't as many people," Daesung tells him. He grabs Youngbae's shirt when he starts walking up the aisle and directs him to the very back row. "More private," he says, "so you can. You know."
Youngbae's eyebrows shoot up.
"What? It's the second date."
After the movie starts, Youngbae decides this would be more of a third or fourth date activity if he were with a real girl. Daesung ends up practically sitting in Youngbae's lap, clutching his arm until it's numb and yelping so much the scant few other people in the theater keep shushing them. It's actually a relief that Daesung is so jumpy, though, because it distracts from the number of times Youngbae jolts and chokes on a shout himself. And if Daesung grabs his hand once or twice, Youngbae is gracious enough not to mention it, which is more than could be said for how any of the other members would've handled the situation.
"I'm never going to sleep again," Daesung moans on the drive home. The sun is setting and Youngbae can't wipe the peaceful smile off his face.
"Your idea, not mine," Youngbae says. He has his notebook open so he can pretend to take belated notes but is mostly just doodling loopy designs in the margins.
"Hey, I'm making a lot of sacrifices for you here," Daesung says with a glare. "I hate those kinds of movies. I would never have done that if not for educational purposes."
Youngbae laughs. "Well I recommend you never do it on a real date either, because you'll end up screaming more than she does."
It might be his imagination, but Youngbae thinks Daesung looks just the slightest bit sad at that. They drive the rest of the way back to the dorms in silence, even Youngbae's doodling petering out.
After returning, the looming reality of Sunday night hits them both, and they part ways to prepare for tomorrow. Youngbae doesn't see Daesung when he goes to work out—doesn't see him at all, in fact, until he's about to turn out his bedside lamp and go to bed, when a timid knock sounds on his door.
"Come in," he says, and Daesung pokes his head inside.
"Um," Daesung says.
Youngbae waits a beat, trying futilely to read Daesung's troubled expression. "What is it?"
"I can't stop thinking about that dead girl when I turn off the light," Daesung says in a rush, fixing Youngbae with pitiful eyes. "Can we have a sleepover?"
Youngbae makes it maybe two seconds before bursting into peals of laughter—the kind where you can't see through the tears—and Daesung shushes him but takes it as an invitation, shuffling inside and closing the door behind him.
"You brought your pillow?" Youngbae says when he can speak again. "What were you going to do if I said no?"
"You can't say no. You owe me," Daesung says, making a face. He jumps into bed and Youngbae scoots over to make room, bizarrely pleased with the situation. It's been so long since he felt this warm and amused; he can't seem to stop snickering, even after they've turned the lights out and rolled over so they're lying back-to-back.
"Quiet," Daesung hisses. "Some of us have to get up early in the morning."
Youngbae elbows him in the ribcage and Daesung retaliates by kicking him in the leg, which results in a jostling fight that doesn't die down until almost half an hour later. Still, it's the easiest Youngbae has drifted off in as long as he can remember, his mind blotting out all the usual work anxiety with a haze of contentment. The last thing he remembers is the steady rise-fall of Daesung's breathing, the way it lends a background noise to the room that fits just right.
It's still dark out when Youngbae opens his eyes, wondering dimly if he's having an insomnia attack again, even after falling asleep so easily. But a glance at the clock tells him it's almost 5:30, only minutes before the alarm is set to go off, and then he takes in the weight of the bed, the warmth at his side, and remembers. He turns his head and Daesung is right there, mouth pressed into the crook of Youngbae's neck and shoulder, one arm slung across Youngbae's stomach. It burns hot on Youngbae's skin; every part of him that Daesung is touching feels hot, including and especially the breath that ghosts against his neck. He itches to move away but at the same time has the urgent sense he shouldn't.
The alarm starts to buzz before he can make a decision, and Youngbae quietly panics as Daesung scrunches up his face and groans, hand clenching over Youngbae's abs.
"Not yet," he murmurs, burrowing his face down deeper, pressing his mouth close enough to Youngbae's neck that it's almost a kiss; isn't that a kiss? He curls a leg around Youngbae's calf, forcing their bodies even closer, and right when Youngbae feels something hard against his hip, at the same time, they both freeze.
Daesung moves first, because he has to. Peeling himself away from Youngbae's side, he looks up, eyes wide and frightened.
"Sorry," Daesung says, as quiet as Youngbae has ever heard him.
Youngbae's tongue is thick and heavy and won't move. He just watches as Daesung wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and scoots away, eyes still locked on Youngbae like he's worried he's about to get punched.
"I'm gonna," Daesung says, jerking a thumb toward the door, and then he's gone, pillow completely forgotten in his rush to escape.
The week is grueling, which is one reason, maybe, Youngbae doesn't get around to returning Daesung's pillow. He's still not sure he understands what happened, but every morning when he wakes up with his face smashed into the foreign pillowcase he tries hard to figure it out. Daesung is polite and not unfriendly at work but distant and awkward, and every time Youngbae thinks back to the weekend his stomach gives a painful twinge. In retrospect, it was more fun than Youngbae has had in a long time, and he feels like he's lost that now, before he could even really start to appreciate it.
By Saturday night, Youngbae has never been more relieved to get back to his own apartment. They're facing only light activities scattering the group schedule in the coming week, so everyone's free to live away from the dorms. He starts to unpack his bag and stares at Daesung's pillow, which ended up getting zipped in with his clothes despite Youngbae's better judgment. After turning it uncertainly in his hands for a while, he sets it down amongst his own pillows and heads to the kitchen to feed Boss, who's been whining for fifteen minutes solid.
Daesung calls before Youngbae has finished setting down the dog dish.
"Hello?" Youngbae says, glancing into his bedroom at the pillow guiltily, irrationally fearful that Daesung knows.
"Hi, it's Daesung, I," Daesung says, too fast, before he slows down and tries again. "I'm downstairs. Can you let me in?"
"Downstairs?" Youngbae trips over Boss's bowl and curses, kibble flying everywhere.
