Works In Progress
B.A.P / A Pink
Youngjae / Yookyung | "Hey Youngjae! Would you buy my dosirak?"
It was a few weeks from the championship football game and Youngjae did not in the least bit care. It was supposedly amazing that their high school's team had made it to the championships, but it's not like any of the local teams were any good, so it wasn't that incredible of a feat. Also, more importantly, the Starcraft tournament was that same weekend.
"We've got spirit, yes we do! We've got spirit, how about you? Whoo!" The cheerleaders were at the front of the cafeteria, cartwheeling dangerously close to where students were exiting the servery with their lunch trays.
"Oh jeez, what kind of stupid spirit thing are they trying to do now?" groaned JB, one of Youngjae's good friends.
The boys got their answer when the cheer squad captain raised a megaphone to amplify her already loud voice in proclaiming, "Support your cheer squad! We're having a dosirak sale! Each dosirak was made with special care by our cheerleaders, so buy one and support your school for the championships!" The cheer squad captain emitted a high-pitched "Whoooooo!" that reverberated in the cafeteria.
Youngjae and his friends rolled their eyes. They had better ways to spend their money than on stupid dosiraks. The boys saw that the cheerleaders had dispersed and were milling about, soliciting purchases. The boys avoided eye contact with the cheerleaders at all costs. They avoided eye contact with girls in general, and the cheerleaders rarely looked straight at the gamers anyway, but it was crucial at this moment.
"Hey Youngjae! Would you buy my dosirak?"
Youngjae turned this way and that, trying to get visual confirmation of what he had hallucinated he'd heard.
"Youngjae, did you hear me? Would you please buy my dosirak?"
Youngjae's eyes finally came back to the center, directly in front of him, where Yookyung was standing with her hands out, clutching a cute dosirak box. Youngjae knew who Yookyung was, but he had had no idea that she knew who he was. But she had called him by name, right?
"Me?" Youngjae pointed to himself, his eyebrows raised.
"Isn't your name Youngjae?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Then I was talking to you, silly! Now are you going to buy my dosirak or not?"
"Why don't you just have your dad donate the money?" It was common knowledge that Yookyung's father was ludicrously wealthy.
Yookyung stiffened, a bit offended. "I'll have you know that he's doing a match thing where he'll at least match what we raise ourselves."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm not interested, Yookyung. I'm not even going to the championship game."
"Why not?!" Yookyung was one of the calmest, quietest people in school, but she was beginning to get agitated.
"The Starcraft tournament is that weekend. I've got to defend my title!"
"So you're saying that some stupid computer game is more important than the game and supporting your school?"
"Yup." Youngjae was smarmy as he crossed his arms.
"Doesn't gaming require like two fingers?"
"Excuse you, Yookyung, gaming is definitely more of a sport than flouncing about in short skirts and shaking pom poms!"
"All gaming requires is sitting on your butt for hours on end. Cheerleading takes actual athletic skill."
"Starcraft takes skill! I bet you wouldn't last a second in a game of Starcraft!"
"Oh yeah? How about I prove you wrong. I'll beat you in a game of Starcraft and then you and all your friends have to buy all my dosirak." The aforementioned friends looked up in alarm as they momentarily forgot that they were pretending not to eavesdrop. Now all of their wallets were on the line.
"And if I beat you - oh sorry, I mean when - then the prize will be...hmm, what should it be?"
JB piped up, "Then the cheer squad will come cheer us on when we play Starcraft!"
"What? That's a terrible idea," Youngjae started to say, but Yookyung grabbed Youngjae's right hand and with a firm shake, she said, "Deal."
The two then worked out the logistics of the challenge -
Beast / Secret
Yoseob / Jieun | There, now we match.
"We match." Both of them were wearing crisp black button-down shirts and jeans and even their shoes were similar. Their shirts had the opposite effects, though - hers made her seem even more slender than usual while his made his shoulders look even more broad.
"Not exactly," Jieun said, and she was trying to sound like she was making a casual observation and hadn't been looking at him like that - studying, staring. "Three of my buttons are unbuttoned and only two of yours are."
Yoseob looked down for a second as he unbuttoned the offending button, third from the top. "There, now we match." Then, he looked up, a mischievous grin on his face as he swiftly put his hands so close to her skin as he undid her fourth button.
"Hey!" Jieun's eyes widened and her brain rushed backward, trying to replay that too brief moment of contact. "What are you doing? Now we don't match!" She grabbed his shirt, a little more forcefully than she meant to and a little more bravely than she actually felt, and she surprisingly found it easy to slip his fourth button out through the slit in his shirt.
It became a game and they were racing each other, laughing, as hands were flying and suddenly, their open shirttails were bouncing up and down, as if the now separated halves of their shirts were laughing too.
When Yoseob's hand accidentally brushed across the top of Jieun's bra, she suddenly stopped laughing as she realized how bare she was in front of him. Her self-consciousness rose and overcame her face. Jieun desperately wished she hadn't put her hair in a bun atop her head - her shoulders felt so cold and she was keenly aware that her hair wasn't there to act as a curtain to shield her body from his view. Jieun found her brain thinking wildly about whether he could tell how small her breasts were from that one touch and whether he could feel her heart beating so loudly too.
Jieun tried to surreptitiously turn away, but Yoseob put his strong gentle hands on her shoulders (still with the black cloth safely in between) and he turned her to be facing him again. For what seemed like a year, he just looked at her. He wasn't looking at her body; he was looking at her, if that made any sense.
Yoseob looked down as he tucked his thumb underneath her collar. His skin finally on hers, on just that one spot, Jieun couldn't help but shiver. Raising his eyes up to her, Yoseob asked, "Okay?"
Jieun swallowed her breath and nodded. Jieun rolled her shoulders in a circle, first her left, then her right, as her shirt of straight creases melted into curves fluttering to the ground. Now she felt almost defiant - she reached up and pulled out her hairtie, letting her hair cascade down like her shirt had just a moment before.
Stepping forward, Jieun said in a sing-song, "Still not matching..." and she cast her eyes down on her hands as they slid onto Yoseob's shoulders and simultaneously ran down the curves of muscles of his arms, while his sleeves caught on her wrists and were pushed along down, down, down.
CSJH
Sunday-Centric | It was odd to be Sunday, not Bora. WARNING: Implied self harm.
Bora kept on glancing at her bare arms, and each time, it struck her how strange and new it felt to see her exposed skin. The stylists had always given her giant, ballooning (concealing) sleeves for a reason and now there was no cloth to act as a barrier between her skin and the high-definition cameras.
Maybe it was just because it felt strange to be in glittery costumes again and to have a microphone in her hand again and to be on stage again, without Jiyeon-unnie and Bokyung. Maybe that was it. It was odd to be Sunday, not Bora.
Bora softly placed her right hand on the bracelets on her left wrist and, hesitatingly, she let her fingers trickle upwards. She could still feel the scars there. Her fingers curled inward, as if to close around the scars so that she could put them away. Bora had to make sure these scars stayed invisible - or at least, invisible enough to be covered by makeup.
Youngjae / Yookyung | "Hey Youngjae! Would you buy my dosirak?"
It was a few weeks from the championship football game and Youngjae did not in the least bit care. It was supposedly amazing that their high school's team had made it to the championships, but it's not like any of the local teams were any good, so it wasn't that incredible of a feat. Also, more importantly, the Starcraft tournament was that same weekend.
"We've got spirit, yes we do! We've got spirit, how about you? Whoo!" The cheerleaders were at the front of the cafeteria, cartwheeling dangerously close to where students were exiting the servery with their lunch trays.
"Oh jeez, what kind of stupid spirit thing are they trying to do now?" groaned JB, one of Youngjae's good friends.
The boys got their answer when the cheer squad captain raised a megaphone to amplify her already loud voice in proclaiming, "Support your cheer squad! We're having a dosirak sale! Each dosirak was made with special care by our cheerleaders, so buy one and support your school for the championships!" The cheer squad captain emitted a high-pitched "Whoooooo!" that reverberated in the cafeteria.
Youngjae and his friends rolled their eyes. They had better ways to spend their money than on stupid dosiraks. The boys saw that the cheerleaders had dispersed and were milling about, soliciting purchases. The boys avoided eye contact with the cheerleaders at all costs. They avoided eye contact with girls in general, and the cheerleaders rarely looked straight at the gamers anyway, but it was crucial at this moment.
"Hey Youngjae! Would you buy my dosirak?"
Youngjae turned this way and that, trying to get visual confirmation of what he had hallucinated he'd heard.
"Youngjae, did you hear me? Would you please buy my dosirak?"
Youngjae's eyes finally came back to the center, directly in front of him, where Yookyung was standing with her hands out, clutching a cute dosirak box. Youngjae knew who Yookyung was, but he had had no idea that she knew who he was. But she had called him by name, right?
"Me?" Youngjae pointed to himself, his eyebrows raised.
"Isn't your name Youngjae?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Then I was talking to you, silly! Now are you going to buy my dosirak or not?"
"Why don't you just have your dad donate the money?" It was common knowledge that Yookyung's father was ludicrously wealthy.
Yookyung stiffened, a bit offended. "I'll have you know that he's doing a match thing where he'll at least match what we raise ourselves."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm not interested, Yookyung. I'm not even going to the championship game."
"Why not?!" Yookyung was one of the calmest, quietest people in school, but she was beginning to get agitated.
"The Starcraft tournament is that weekend. I've got to defend my title!"
"So you're saying that some stupid computer game is more important than the game and supporting your school?"
"Yup." Youngjae was smarmy as he crossed his arms.
"Doesn't gaming require like two fingers?"
"Excuse you, Yookyung, gaming is definitely more of a sport than flouncing about in short skirts and shaking pom poms!"
"All gaming requires is sitting on your butt for hours on end. Cheerleading takes actual athletic skill."
"Starcraft takes skill! I bet you wouldn't last a second in a game of Starcraft!"
"Oh yeah? How about I prove you wrong. I'll beat you in a game of Starcraft and then you and all your friends have to buy all my dosirak." The aforementioned friends looked up in alarm as they momentarily forgot that they were pretending not to eavesdrop. Now all of their wallets were on the line.
"And if I beat you - oh sorry, I mean when - then the prize will be...hmm, what should it be?"
JB piped up, "Then the cheer squad will come cheer us on when we play Starcraft!"
"What? That's a terrible idea," Youngjae started to say, but Yookyung grabbed Youngjae's right hand and with a firm shake, she said, "Deal."
The two then worked out the logistics of the challenge -
Beast / Secret
Yoseob / Jieun | There, now we match.
"We match." Both of them were wearing crisp black button-down shirts and jeans and even their shoes were similar. Their shirts had the opposite effects, though - hers made her seem even more slender than usual while his made his shoulders look even more broad.
"Not exactly," Jieun said, and she was trying to sound like she was making a casual observation and hadn't been looking at him like that - studying, staring. "Three of my buttons are unbuttoned and only two of yours are."
Yoseob looked down for a second as he unbuttoned the offending button, third from the top. "There, now we match." Then, he looked up, a mischievous grin on his face as he swiftly put his hands so close to her skin as he undid her fourth button.
"Hey!" Jieun's eyes widened and her brain rushed backward, trying to replay that too brief moment of contact. "What are you doing? Now we don't match!" She grabbed his shirt, a little more forcefully than she meant to and a little more bravely than she actually felt, and she surprisingly found it easy to slip his fourth button out through the slit in his shirt.
It became a game and they were racing each other, laughing, as hands were flying and suddenly, their open shirttails were bouncing up and down, as if the now separated halves of their shirts were laughing too.
When Yoseob's hand accidentally brushed across the top of Jieun's bra, she suddenly stopped laughing as she realized how bare she was in front of him. Her self-consciousness rose and overcame her face. Jieun desperately wished she hadn't put her hair in a bun atop her head - her shoulders felt so cold and she was keenly aware that her hair wasn't there to act as a curtain to shield her body from his view. Jieun found her brain thinking wildly about whether he could tell how small her breasts were from that one touch and whether he could feel her heart beating so loudly too.
Jieun tried to surreptitiously turn away, but Yoseob put his strong gentle hands on her shoulders (still with the black cloth safely in between) and he turned her to be facing him again. For what seemed like a year, he just looked at her. He wasn't looking at her body; he was looking at her, if that made any sense.
Yoseob looked down as he tucked his thumb underneath her collar. His skin finally on hers, on just that one spot, Jieun couldn't help but shiver. Raising his eyes up to her, Yoseob asked, "Okay?"
Jieun swallowed her breath and nodded. Jieun rolled her shoulders in a circle, first her left, then her right, as her shirt of straight creases melted into curves fluttering to the ground. Now she felt almost defiant - she reached up and pulled out her hairtie, letting her hair cascade down like her shirt had just a moment before.
Stepping forward, Jieun said in a sing-song, "Still not matching..." and she cast her eyes down on her hands as they slid onto Yoseob's shoulders and simultaneously ran down the curves of muscles of his arms, while his sleeves caught on her wrists and were pushed along down, down, down.
CSJH
Sunday-Centric | It was odd to be Sunday, not Bora. WARNING: Implied self harm.
Bora kept on glancing at her bare arms, and each time, it struck her how strange and new it felt to see her exposed skin. The stylists had always given her giant, ballooning (concealing) sleeves for a reason and now there was no cloth to act as a barrier between her skin and the high-definition cameras.
Maybe it was just because it felt strange to be in glittery costumes again and to have a microphone in her hand again and to be on stage again, without Jiyeon-unnie and Bokyung. Maybe that was it. It was odd to be Sunday, not Bora.
Bora softly placed her right hand on the bracelets on her left wrist and, hesitatingly, she let her fingers trickle upwards. She could still feel the scars there. Her fingers curled inward, as if to close around the scars so that she could put them away. Bora had to make sure these scars stayed invisible - or at least, invisible enough to be covered by makeup.