fourcoldpaws (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fourcoldpaws) wrote2013-07-12 09:42 pm
fourcoldpaws) wrote2013-07-12 09:42 pm
b1a4; after hours
baro/girl!cnu. r. 1002 words. b1a4 is a co-ed group and sunwoo may or may not be sleeping with woori. (originally posted at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kprompts)
For the sake of professionalism and good group dynamics and the company policies printed up in a neat little pamphlet stacked on shelves in the corridor outside the CEO’s office, Sunwoo very diligently does not sleep with Woori.
It’s not really about the fans, per se, (well, of course it’s about the fans, everything is about the fans, but,) while a part of Sunwoo sometimes thinks that most of the fans wouldn’t necessarily mind, (they have a witty ship name like anyone else) – if anything, it’s just not what they’d expect; Woori and Jinyoung, Woori and Chanshik, that’s the kind of story that’d make headlines and some extra grands in the company chest, maybe even boost their popularity for a month or two… but it really isn’t about that. It’s anyway not part of their job, their job is to be attractive and available always. None of it’s got anything to do with that.
Woori and Sunwoo comes down to Woori, and to Sunwoo, and sometimes Sunwoo thinks about what things might have been like if they had not been famous and subject to so many supposed-to’s and so fucking fucking busy – and doubts that they would be much different at all. They are who they are and that sets the course of things.
Woori is the kind of girl who you (well, Sunwoo anyway) wouldn’t talk to at a party, but if your friend asks you what you think of her you wouldn’t have anything negative to say. She’s just… not… You might noncommittally tell your friend that she doesn’t have it. Even though both Woori and Junghwa (and Sunwoo, for that matter) have properly shitty eyesight it’s Woori who gets the glasses because she (although nobody would say this out loud) needs something to be recognized by. Woori is the kind of girl who smiles when she’s uncomfortable, who punches your arm in earnest as an expression of affection, whose way of seduction is to corner you and look into your eyes and very honestly ask if you want to have sex with her.
It’s funny because Sunwoo is the kind of guy who (although this would never pass his lips during an interview or the likes; “Someone who communicates well and understands me, someone with a nice smile,” he recites from his memorized script, this so carefully put vagueness entirely void of specifics applicable to Woori and Junghwa) generally prefers the femme fatale type, the big gazonkers and a smashing ass (although swear-to-god he only harbors brotherly feelings for Junghwa he may have caught himself studying her rotund posterior on a few occasions – it’s right there and he’s a man okay, what’s he supposed to do, besides doesn’t she think he sees the way she looks at him when he’s wearing sweatpants), the long flowing hair and blood-red lipstick kind of type. Sunwoo is the kind of guy who pulled at girls’ pigtails at school, who thinks caring about things is a weakness, who, at the times when he really wants to kiss her, teasingly calls Woori “hyung” and then feels really bad about it because he knows that she harbors complexes about her height and wide shoulders and flat ass. He knows that if she puts her hand around his throat briefly and grins a little it’s okay, but if she just walks away it will plague him a whole day and he will hate that he’s too stubborn to apologize.
He never told her that she rocked the “Baby I’m sorry” undercut, never tells her how hot she looks when she raps, certainly doesn’t tell her that whenever she walks around the dorm in a t-shirt with no bra under he needs to go outside for a moment, and at those times in the van when everybody’s sleeping and she might lean her head on his shoulder and look up at him and smile a tired smile he will shrug her off and look out the window.
Instead there’s incidents of him walking in on her in just a tank top in the bathroom which somehow end with them aggressively ugly-snogging against the door for fifteen minutes before she leaves with stiff legs and a red face, and Sunwoo really wonders if stuff like that doesn’t fuck up the group dynamic more than anything.
Maybe it’s better then, the times that he actually fingers her against that bathroom door, the other hand clamped over her mouth because the others are probably up by now and he just can’t stop grinning like an idiot at her messy hair and squeezed-shut eyes and strangled noises against his palm and when she stretches up against the door and tips her head back and stops breathing he leans in and presses his lips and face against her neck and somehow making her come feels almost like he’s coming himself. (But it’s not like it’s easier to look each other in the eye afterwards.)
Maybe it’s better, the times that they fuck in her bed, granted still without talking but at least she looks up at him when he rolls on the condom and he looks back as good as he can, fumbling more than he should at this point and probably being a little too quick with it but she just wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close close to her chest so that they rock together and all he can do is bury his face in her hair and come way too fast and flush when she kisses his temple.
Sunwoo likes to think that it’s complicated. That some things are out of their hands. Sometimes he wonders if he’s afraid, and what he’s afraid of. But what would he even say? Hey this is never gonna lead anywhere and I’m also not sure if you’re good enough for me because you’re not what I fapped to in junior high. (And he’s also aware that this is the exact reason why he’s not good enough for her).
kprompts)For the sake of professionalism and good group dynamics and the company policies printed up in a neat little pamphlet stacked on shelves in the corridor outside the CEO’s office, Sunwoo very diligently does not sleep with Woori.
It’s not really about the fans, per se, (well, of course it’s about the fans, everything is about the fans, but,) while a part of Sunwoo sometimes thinks that most of the fans wouldn’t necessarily mind, (they have a witty ship name like anyone else) – if anything, it’s just not what they’d expect; Woori and Jinyoung, Woori and Chanshik, that’s the kind of story that’d make headlines and some extra grands in the company chest, maybe even boost their popularity for a month or two… but it really isn’t about that. It’s anyway not part of their job, their job is to be attractive and available always. None of it’s got anything to do with that.
Woori and Sunwoo comes down to Woori, and to Sunwoo, and sometimes Sunwoo thinks about what things might have been like if they had not been famous and subject to so many supposed-to’s and so fucking fucking busy – and doubts that they would be much different at all. They are who they are and that sets the course of things.
Woori is the kind of girl who you (well, Sunwoo anyway) wouldn’t talk to at a party, but if your friend asks you what you think of her you wouldn’t have anything negative to say. She’s just… not… You might noncommittally tell your friend that she doesn’t have it. Even though both Woori and Junghwa (and Sunwoo, for that matter) have properly shitty eyesight it’s Woori who gets the glasses because she (although nobody would say this out loud) needs something to be recognized by. Woori is the kind of girl who smiles when she’s uncomfortable, who punches your arm in earnest as an expression of affection, whose way of seduction is to corner you and look into your eyes and very honestly ask if you want to have sex with her.
It’s funny because Sunwoo is the kind of guy who (although this would never pass his lips during an interview or the likes; “Someone who communicates well and understands me, someone with a nice smile,” he recites from his memorized script, this so carefully put vagueness entirely void of specifics applicable to Woori and Junghwa) generally prefers the femme fatale type, the big gazonkers and a smashing ass (although swear-to-god he only harbors brotherly feelings for Junghwa he may have caught himself studying her rotund posterior on a few occasions – it’s right there and he’s a man okay, what’s he supposed to do, besides doesn’t she think he sees the way she looks at him when he’s wearing sweatpants), the long flowing hair and blood-red lipstick kind of type. Sunwoo is the kind of guy who pulled at girls’ pigtails at school, who thinks caring about things is a weakness, who, at the times when he really wants to kiss her, teasingly calls Woori “hyung” and then feels really bad about it because he knows that she harbors complexes about her height and wide shoulders and flat ass. He knows that if she puts her hand around his throat briefly and grins a little it’s okay, but if she just walks away it will plague him a whole day and he will hate that he’s too stubborn to apologize.
He never told her that she rocked the “Baby I’m sorry” undercut, never tells her how hot she looks when she raps, certainly doesn’t tell her that whenever she walks around the dorm in a t-shirt with no bra under he needs to go outside for a moment, and at those times in the van when everybody’s sleeping and she might lean her head on his shoulder and look up at him and smile a tired smile he will shrug her off and look out the window.
Instead there’s incidents of him walking in on her in just a tank top in the bathroom which somehow end with them aggressively ugly-snogging against the door for fifteen minutes before she leaves with stiff legs and a red face, and Sunwoo really wonders if stuff like that doesn’t fuck up the group dynamic more than anything.
Maybe it’s better then, the times that he actually fingers her against that bathroom door, the other hand clamped over her mouth because the others are probably up by now and he just can’t stop grinning like an idiot at her messy hair and squeezed-shut eyes and strangled noises against his palm and when she stretches up against the door and tips her head back and stops breathing he leans in and presses his lips and face against her neck and somehow making her come feels almost like he’s coming himself. (But it’s not like it’s easier to look each other in the eye afterwards.)
Maybe it’s better, the times that they fuck in her bed, granted still without talking but at least she looks up at him when he rolls on the condom and he looks back as good as he can, fumbling more than he should at this point and probably being a little too quick with it but she just wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close close to her chest so that they rock together and all he can do is bury his face in her hair and come way too fast and flush when she kisses his temple.
Sunwoo likes to think that it’s complicated. That some things are out of their hands. Sometimes he wonders if he’s afraid, and what he’s afraid of. But what would he even say? Hey this is never gonna lead anywhere and I’m also not sure if you’re good enough for me because you’re not what I fapped to in junior high. (And he’s also aware that this is the exact reason why he’s not good enough for her).
no subject
Or very soft.
He notes the handle pressing down once when he’s in the shower and the door is of course locked and it’s probably somebody else anyway but he still wonders if she’d barge in on him like this, if she’d step in and join him under the spray and if she’d take him into her hand and jerk him in her usual a little too slow, a little too soft, but still very nice way.
He wonders if she’d dare to climb into his bed, sneak into the room in the middle of the night and spoon him without asking. (Dare in despite of the other two sleeping in the same room or dare despite of, well, him, he’s not sure.)
(He wonders if she will ever get fed up with him and pull him aside and slam him up against a wall and scream into his face and maybe, maybe hit him.
But doubts it.)
Lastly, her last effort, the last thing she does – and he immediately knows that it’s the last, that this is all he gets, now it’s over, the bridges are burned, finito – is a gentle stroke across his cheek, so feather-light he barely feels it but still all his nerve-ends are immediately on fire, just in passing in a busy moment and nobody’s paying attention, this tiny last private moment in the middle of everything, over in two heart beats, and that’s it.
When he tries to catch her gaze over the dinner table later, she doesn’t look at him.
- (tbc) (maybe) -
yeah i can totally buy the managers knowing and just turning a blind eye/not telling the higher-ups. i kind of wonder how long one might actually be able to keep this up without being found out, like how much privacy does dorms & schedules offer etc. (technicalities, the bane of my existence. i just pull stuff out of my ass.)
(THAT SOUNDS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT TBQH. i... actually don't like dirty talking lmao i'm just excited for more shinro and that sounds right up my alley. ⊙ω⊙) (ALSO i happened to stumble across this (http://b1a4gy.tumblr.com/post/63531332570/het-chandeul-tittyfucking-fluff-ficlet-by-tylette) and can i just say HGNNNN. yes u should write more het u def should.)
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“I think it’s over,” Woori tells Junghwa quietly. The door to their room is closed and the lights are off, she should be sleeping or pretending to sleep. Woori pulls her blanket up to her chin and turns to stare in the general direction of Junghwa’s bed.
“I kill him,” Junghwa whispers back. She has known about Sunwoo and Woori for some time but kept quiet, because Woori asked her to, because they both knew that he would overreact if he was ‘found out’, even though everyone basically knew. She just hadn’t thought he’d end it with Woori because of that; Junghwa thought better of him than that, but apparently she was wrong.
Woori always insisted that they weren’t dating, that they hadn’t defined anything, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take away the fact that she’s hurting now. If anything it makes it worse and it makes Junghwa want to shake Sunwoo and tell him what an idiot he is, what a coward he is. (But then he probably knows.)
“I’ll kill him,” she says again, louder, and Woori laughs. (It is quite a sad sound.)
“No you won’t. You love him too.”
Woori is tall but right now she sounds tiny to Junghwa. Junghwa imagines Woori half curled in her bed, fingers picking at her pillow. She’s not crying, but she probably wants to.
“Not the same way you love him, and not more than I love you.”
The sympathy is as uncomfortable as it is comforting. Junghwa slips out of her bed and picks her way across the room to Woori’s, crawling under the blankets without needing to ask, and Woori automatically curls an arm around her waist.
“I’ll be okay. If it’s one-sided then I just have to move on,” Woori murmurs against Junghwa’s neck as Junghwa pets her hair.
They fall asleep like that, Junghwa first while Woori stays awake for another hour distracting herself counting Junghwa’s breathing. But inevitably her thoughts wander and she falls asleep wondering if it’s always been one-sided. She wonders if she’s just been seeing what she wanted all along. Maybe none of it meant anything; not the shared glances, not the so soft kisses, not her name whispered into her ear while their cheeks, damp with sweat, are pressed together after sex.
She doesn’t think so, but maybe she’s still just believing what she wants. So she decides to stop, if Sunwoo wants to end things then she has no other choice. Woori falls asleep telling herself it meant nothing, that it’s always been one-sided, and as much as it hurts it’s also easier.
The following days are not easy; Woori tries to act normal and natural, she tries not to avoid Sunwoo. No matter what happened between them they are, the five of them, a team. She’d realised the risk when they started their affair and she had promised herself that whatever happened it would not drag the rest of the group down.
So, while she didn’t seek out Sunwoo she didn’t avoid him either. She smiles at him the same way she does everyone else, jokes with him as she always has when other people are watching, the only thing she doesn’t do is touch him. But Sunwoo avoids her, when no one is watching and sometimes when people are watching, and Woori has to fight to keep her expression from falling.
Junghwa puts herself between Woori and Sunwoo at an event. Chansik takes Woori’s hand as they head towards the van and urges her to take the window seat. Jinyoung asks Woori to listen to a new song he’s working on when they get back to the dorm and Sunwoo speeds ahead of them and into his room.
It’s still not easy but it helps. She comforts herself watching their shows and various fancams; they look the same as ever, as if nothing had happened, and that’s what she wants. (Because that is all that she can have now.)
When their senior pulls her aside and quietly asks for her phone number Woori gives it to him. It feels weird and uncomfortable but her days seem to be made of weird and uncomfortable so it makes no difference. She tries not to think too hard; she’s just moving on.
She pretends that she doesn’t notice Sunwoo staring at her when she returns to their waiting room.
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She chews on her lips and thinks back to the date. He’d been sweet and thoughtful, all careful and nervous with her – completely unlike Sunwoo (or maybe exactly like Sunwoo when stripped of his pretenses). She felt bad comparing the two of them the whole date but it was probably inevitable.
Woori had tensed when he’d leaned in to kiss her goodnight and he’d backed off apologising. So she’d done it instead, tugged at his sleeve with an awkward smile before pressing a light kiss to his lips. He was really sweet and she’d thought that maybe she could really like him. But now, hovering by the door with Sunwoo staring at her wordlessly, she’s not sure at all.
“I was just –”
“I’m not asking,” he cuts in, and then they start moving again. He spins on his heel and disappears into his room, closing the door behind him, while she pulls her hat off. She stares at the closed door for a moment. They’re moving but she has no idea where they’re going.
and then she's so frustrated and totally not giddy from her date anymore so she grabs clean clothes and takes a shower. baro totally draws the wrong conclusion from that and proceeds to beat himself up. or something, idk. (i will probably never stop.)
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He knows, immediately when he sees her, instantly recognizes that look upon her face because countless of times it has been him who inflicted it upon her. It’s the look of not having gotten any in a while, and then finally having been thoroughly fucked.
He needs a moment to process it. She has somebody. Somebody else.
When a pretty little hoobae from a girl-group he doesn’t remember the name of stops him in an empty backstage corridor one day to bow deep and give him a sparkly-eyed compliment, it doesn’t take more than thirty seconds before he has made her an outrageous dirty suggestion without being anywhere near sure of what reaction he’s gonna get but somehow just doesn’t care either way, and he’d be ashamed of it if he didn’t feel so reckless and numb.
Later he’s got her pushed up against a wall with her thigh in his hand and she’s got her arms around his neck and is panting quick high-pitched little squeals into his ear and her hair bounces a little for how hard he’s pushing into her, but she tells him that he’s good, that he’s good at this, and he’s not sure if she’s honest and he’s not sure if he really got her off or if she faked it, but regardless has to begrudgingly note that whatever skills he has acquired and whatever attention he knows to pay and whatever tricks he can play with his fingers is all because of her, because of how she made him want to learn, because of how she made him want to pay attention, because of how badly he wanted to make her feel good.
This girl, this, is small in his arms, she’s light when he lifts her. The curve of her ass is round in his hand. She’s got this little dollface with freakishly big eyes and a small thin plastic nose that is hard when he brushes his own against it. Her kisses are sticky with lip-gloss, taste of chemicals. Her noises cut in his ears, too high-pitched, too whiny, too fucking everything, and he wonders if she’s doing it on purpose, if this is how she thinks she’s supposed to sound because she watched a porno and this was how the girls there sounded.
He thinks of a lower voice, more quiet, just small quick inhalations and hums and ahs. Slow words exchanged afterwards, mundane and meaningless, mouthed against his cheek. He thinks of a bigger body, stronger, where he knows every flat curve and lean angle and knows that there will never be any faking it and can know and can trust and can rely on that everything he’s shown will be genuine. He thinks of the way her teeth bite down on her lip when it’s really good and how she blinks her eyes slowly and how she meets his gaze and looks at him properly and holds it like that and doesn’t waver. And he clenches his jaw and clenches his eyes because he’s not supposed to think about shit like this, not supposed to miss shit like this.
This girl, this, he hitches up higher and fucks even harder with his whole body clenched stiff and tense, listening to her noises going up and higher and a bit helpless and feeling them grind in his ears and afterwards when he leaves he hunches down and pulls his shoulders up and skims away close to the wall and decides there and then to never meet this girl again because he knows he was too rough and that it probably hurt.
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except then cnu talks to her new dude and has a 'you're great but we're busy people and i'm rebounding' talk with him and ends up having more of a casual hook up relationship instead. she has needs and he's a dude so they're both sort of using each other, but he's sweet about it and sometimes she feels bad. while he's like 'don't feel bad, you're hot.' he actually texts her that once and she laughs without quite noticing that baro is in the room watching and she feels like she's starting to get over the whole thing.
...of course then baro pulls his 'pls stop' thing and cnu is rightly pissed. baro is such an ass in this verse, he knows it too. it's not fair that he can't give her anything but can't stand the thought of someone else touching her (making her laugh is even worse, it feels like forever since he's last made her laugh). he's being crazy, he knows he's being crazy, but he still tries to pin her to the wall and kiss her and she slaps him. (bc just duuude) he's probably never seen her this pissed off. she doesn't yell (bc dorms) but her whisper is so angry it burns, and she tells him to get his shit together, figure out what he wants and fast because she's not his play thing for him to poke at and jerk around whenever he likes.