all dolled up (with nowhere to go)
Title: all dolled up (with nowhere to go)
Pairing: Ryeowook x Yesung
Rating: R
Word Count: 1400+
Notes:Written ages ago on a whim and posted just because I can. Also, because Ryeowook is pretty and I am self-indulgent.
Summary:
all dolled up (with nowhere to go)
The first time Ryeowook cross-dresses, he realizes what Jongwoon wants.
They’re in their apartment, drunk out of their minds, when someone - probably Kyuhyun, that little bitch - suggests that they dress Ryeowook up. He doesn’t remember much - he thinks he probably tried to stop them at the very least - but what he does remember is the end result.
“You’re so pretty,” Jongwoon marvels. His nose is red and his eyes are wide. He's swaying against Ryeowook's shoulder, teeth catching against the hem of Ryeowook's t-shirt. That isn't new. What is new is that smile. Jongwoon's smile is warm, foreboding and forbidden, and it's dangerous, different, something Ryeowook has never seen before. His heart spasms.
This is when Ryeowook realizes that only when he’s wearing a wig and heavy makeup will Jongwoon ever look at him the way he’s always wanted.
“I want to be part of the Gee performance,” Ryeowook says. He’s a little out of breath, and his wig keeps falling out of place - how do girls deal with all this hair. His wrist practically aches from pulling strands away from his face.
“I see that,” Heechul drawls gleefully.
Ryeowook knows he's always been a little effeminate, but standing in front of the audition panel (which is really just Heechul and Kyuhyun sitting on the living room couch with their arms crossed, pretending to be intimidating), he’s not so sure if he can cut it. He’s performed the dance with few mistakes, and he's certainly sung the hell out of all those Gee’s, but then Jongwoon walks in, and he freezes.
“What’s going on?” Jongwoon asks, glancing at Ryeowook. Ryeowook squeezes his eyes shut just when he hears Jongwoon stumble over something, cursing loudly under his breath. His eyes flutter open to Jongwoon glaring at the coffee table, hopping on one foot angrily.
“Nothing,” Ryeowook manages to stutter, just as Heechul claps his hands.
“Okay, that reaction was hilarious,” Heechul cackles, and Kyuyhun begins cracking up. “By the way, you're in. Keep the wig for the performance, you look damn good in it.”
Kyuhyun laughs louder, but Ryeowook’s only looking at Jongwoon. “Oh,” Jongwoon says, reverence lining the syllable, and Ryeowook flushes, his clenched stomach unfurling like petals with the expression on Jongwoon's face.
“I’m not a girl,” Ryeowook says. He’s sleepy, the past few nights have been riddled with pitiful attempts at sleeping, he can’t stop thinking about Jongwoon just across the room. Now that he’s actually going to be cross-dressing on a regular basis, he feels like he needs to say this as a last ditch effort of sorts, one last chance to beg Jongwoon to like him for him, and not only when he's all dolled up. He stares at Jongwoon, willing him to look back. I’m a guy and I know you don’t like guys, but I still want you, Ryeowook attempts to relay telepathically. Why can’t you like me anyway?
Jongwoon grunts. He's engrossed in his musical’s script and doesn’t look too concerned with Ryeowook’s revelation. “Your observational skills astound me,” he deadpans. “What will you tell me next.”
Ryeowook glares - why isn’t his telepathy working - and then Jongwoon yawns. “It’s too bad,” he says.
“What is?” Ryeowook asks hesitantly.
Jongwoon stretches, and Ryeowook’s eyes follow the line of Jongwoon’s bicep greedily. “It’s too bad,” he repeats. “You make such a pretty girl.” The words sound almost longing, and Ryeowook shudders.
He should have expected it, but it still breaks Ryeowook’s heart a bit.
He decides that if he's going to be cross-dressing, he at least needs to have something masculine to hold on to (to remind Jongwoon of the truth, at the very least). With this thought in mind, he chooses his solo song, much to everyone's amusement.
“I’m going to sing Insomnia,” Ryeowook declares to his sleepy flatmates, who look exhausted and like they don’t give a fuck, “and I’m going to be dancing with a girl.”
That peaks interest.
“What kind of dancing?” Sungmin asks, “Because if you’re attempting sexy, I have the right to laugh at you.”
Ryeowook’s eyes narrow and Hyukjae giggles, “Are you planning on having sex on stage? Because I’d pay to see that.”
“That’s so gross,” Kyuhyun says, but there’s mirth in his eyes as he pats Ryeowook on the back. “It’s okay, Ryeowook, don’t listen to the mean old men. I think you can do sexy.”
“When have you ever seen Ryeowook dance sexily?” Sungmin points out.
“I resent that,” Ryeowook says calmly. A pause, and then Jongwoon reaches out sleepily to stroke Ryeowook’s hand, and Ryeowook freezes. He tries to pull away but Jongwoon's grip surprises him. When he looks up, Jongwoon isn't looking him in the eye.
“You know they’re just joking,” Jongwoon mumbles. “Hey, if it helps, you make a damn sexy girl.”
Hyukjae laughs, “This is true.”
“I know,” Ryeowook says flatly. “But I’m a man.”
They all laugh, but Jongwoon looks a little nervous, like he’s remembering the fact.
Heechul tells him he’s going to be part of their Chu~<3 performance. Ryeowook asks if he has a choice and Heechul just looks at him.
“You make a fucking hot girl,” he says.
“But I’m not a girl,” Ryeowook says. “I don’t want to dress like a girl. Why do people” - Jongwoon, always Jongwoon - “only like me when I’m dressed as a girl?”
“Because you’re fucking hot,” Heechul repeats, as if he’s talking to a four year old. “Also, you dance the Gee dance better than all our songs combined. Seriously, has anyone ever told you that you should’ve been born a girl?”
That cuts deeper than Ryeowook would’ve liked, but it’s not like he can deny Heechul’s statement. After all, all it takes is that wig - so coarse, so heavy on his head - to make Jongwoon’s eyes flash.
One day, Jongwoon is out in the living room talking to Sungmin about the musical, and Ryeowook touches himself in his bed. It’s just a few lazy strokes, nothing mind-blowing, but he imagines Jongwoon, over and around him, wanting Ryeowook, wanting him, and not a dolled-up fantasy.
Just when Ryeowook’s about to pick up the pace, Jongwoon barges in and immediately freezes. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before, they’ve only lived with each other for years. Still, it’s always a little embarrassing.
“Oh,” Jongwoon says, staring at the ceiling. “Sorry, we were done and, I didn’t know.”
“No, it’s fine,” Ryeowook says, throwing a pillow haphazardly onto his lap.
“I’ll, just. Outside.”
Okay is what Ryeowook intends to say. “I was thinking of you.”
Well, that didn’t come out right.
Jongwoon’s eyes snap to his. “What.”
Shit, Ryeowook panics. "Hyung," he stammers, and Jongwoon's lips purse. For a moment, Ryeowook thinks he sees disapproval in Jongwoon's eyes.
The smart thing to do would be to laugh at off, have him leave, do something, but - Jongwoon isn’t looking at him anymore, and his eyes follow Jongwoon’s line of sight to his desk. They land on a pig-tailed wig, sent by enthusiastic Chu-loving fans, sprawled against empty lyric sheets. Oh god, Ryeowook thinks. Jongwoon’s looking at him, expectant, and it feels like an ultimatum. He squeezes his eyes shut, enough is enough. But, then again, perhaps in the back of Ryeowook’s mind he's always known this is the only way Jongwoon will have him.
He watches Jongwoon pull the wig into his stubby fingers.
“Oppa,” he breathes.
Jongwoon’s eyes darken in an amazingly dangerous way, and Ryeowook’s breath hitches. “Say that again.” Jongwoon’s voice is so gruff, scraping along his ear canals and straight into his heart.
Ryeowook cries, when Jongwoon enters him. It’s painful, sofuckingpainful, and shit, he should’ve read the manual for this - there must be one, right? - should’ve asked Kyuhyun, should’ve done something to prepare him for the hole that’s gaping in his heart, as Jongwoon pulls out achingly slowly, slipping out for the barest of moments before pushing Ryeowook again deep into his sheets. His mouth catches the coarse strands of the wig that keeps threatening to fall from his head, and Ryeowook gags, nearly choking.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jongwoon says, when Ryeowook gasps into his collarbone, bites patches of skin so he won’t scream. “Ryeowook,” he murmurs, like a prayer, like a curse, “So pretty.” Ryeowook's still crying even when they finish, and he turns into his pillow so that he won't have to face Jongwoon for a few precious seconds. Jongwoon's still for a long time, and then Ryeowook hears a sigh as he gets off the bed. When Ryeowook peeks, Jongwoon's pulling off the condom and searching for his boxers, and Ryeowook, somehow, knows that this is it.
Jongwoon brings them post-coital beer, and there’s a moment when Ryeowook thinks he’s going to get under Ryeowook’s covers when instead he turns sharply on his heel and sits on his own bed, pristine, without any traces of their earlier heatedrushedaching moments. The wig's off his head now and Jongwoon refuses to look Ryeowook in the eye. That hurts more than Ryeowook thought it would, even if he knew it was coming.
Jongwoon's leg bobs up and down, a nervous habit, and Ryeowook's eyes follow the movement, perhaps to avoid looking at someone who won't look back. He tries to forget that this is actually what he's been doing since the very beginning. It's only brought him this, after all. Eventually, even the bobbing becomes too much, he can't take it anymore and he turns on his side; the wall is so much safer than Jongwoon.
Finally, Jongwoon lets out a strangled noise.
“You’re not a girl," Jongwoon says.
I wish you were, Ryeowook thinks he hears him say.
“Your observational skills astound me,” Ryeowook says softly.
AN: Yes, I know. It's Yewook. Stereotypical and self-indulgent Yewook at that. I also have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this T_T. Oh well hahaha.
ky_rin, I know you're probably laughing at me right now, if you've even gotten this far. Stop it D:
Pairing: Ryeowook x Yesung
Rating: R
Word Count: 1400+
Notes:Written ages ago on a whim and posted just because I can. Also, because Ryeowook is pretty and I am self-indulgent.
Summary:
all dolled up (with nowhere to go)
The first time Ryeowook cross-dresses, he realizes what Jongwoon wants.
They’re in their apartment, drunk out of their minds, when someone - probably Kyuhyun, that little bitch - suggests that they dress Ryeowook up. He doesn’t remember much - he thinks he probably tried to stop them at the very least - but what he does remember is the end result.
“You’re so pretty,” Jongwoon marvels. His nose is red and his eyes are wide. He's swaying against Ryeowook's shoulder, teeth catching against the hem of Ryeowook's t-shirt. That isn't new. What is new is that smile. Jongwoon's smile is warm, foreboding and forbidden, and it's dangerous, different, something Ryeowook has never seen before. His heart spasms.
This is when Ryeowook realizes that only when he’s wearing a wig and heavy makeup will Jongwoon ever look at him the way he’s always wanted.
“I want to be part of the Gee performance,” Ryeowook says. He’s a little out of breath, and his wig keeps falling out of place - how do girls deal with all this hair. His wrist practically aches from pulling strands away from his face.
“I see that,” Heechul drawls gleefully.
Ryeowook knows he's always been a little effeminate, but standing in front of the audition panel (which is really just Heechul and Kyuhyun sitting on the living room couch with their arms crossed, pretending to be intimidating), he’s not so sure if he can cut it. He’s performed the dance with few mistakes, and he's certainly sung the hell out of all those Gee’s, but then Jongwoon walks in, and he freezes.
“What’s going on?” Jongwoon asks, glancing at Ryeowook. Ryeowook squeezes his eyes shut just when he hears Jongwoon stumble over something, cursing loudly under his breath. His eyes flutter open to Jongwoon glaring at the coffee table, hopping on one foot angrily.
“Nothing,” Ryeowook manages to stutter, just as Heechul claps his hands.
“Okay, that reaction was hilarious,” Heechul cackles, and Kyuyhun begins cracking up. “By the way, you're in. Keep the wig for the performance, you look damn good in it.”
Kyuhyun laughs louder, but Ryeowook’s only looking at Jongwoon. “Oh,” Jongwoon says, reverence lining the syllable, and Ryeowook flushes, his clenched stomach unfurling like petals with the expression on Jongwoon's face.
“I’m not a girl,” Ryeowook says. He’s sleepy, the past few nights have been riddled with pitiful attempts at sleeping, he can’t stop thinking about Jongwoon just across the room. Now that he’s actually going to be cross-dressing on a regular basis, he feels like he needs to say this as a last ditch effort of sorts, one last chance to beg Jongwoon to like him for him, and not only when he's all dolled up. He stares at Jongwoon, willing him to look back. I’m a guy and I know you don’t like guys, but I still want you, Ryeowook attempts to relay telepathically. Why can’t you like me anyway?
Jongwoon grunts. He's engrossed in his musical’s script and doesn’t look too concerned with Ryeowook’s revelation. “Your observational skills astound me,” he deadpans. “What will you tell me next.”
Ryeowook glares - why isn’t his telepathy working - and then Jongwoon yawns. “It’s too bad,” he says.
“What is?” Ryeowook asks hesitantly.
Jongwoon stretches, and Ryeowook’s eyes follow the line of Jongwoon’s bicep greedily. “It’s too bad,” he repeats. “You make such a pretty girl.” The words sound almost longing, and Ryeowook shudders.
He should have expected it, but it still breaks Ryeowook’s heart a bit.
He decides that if he's going to be cross-dressing, he at least needs to have something masculine to hold on to (to remind Jongwoon of the truth, at the very least). With this thought in mind, he chooses his solo song, much to everyone's amusement.
“I’m going to sing Insomnia,” Ryeowook declares to his sleepy flatmates, who look exhausted and like they don’t give a fuck, “and I’m going to be dancing with a girl.”
That peaks interest.
“What kind of dancing?” Sungmin asks, “Because if you’re attempting sexy, I have the right to laugh at you.”
Ryeowook’s eyes narrow and Hyukjae giggles, “Are you planning on having sex on stage? Because I’d pay to see that.”
“That’s so gross,” Kyuhyun says, but there’s mirth in his eyes as he pats Ryeowook on the back. “It’s okay, Ryeowook, don’t listen to the mean old men. I think you can do sexy.”
“When have you ever seen Ryeowook dance sexily?” Sungmin points out.
“I resent that,” Ryeowook says calmly. A pause, and then Jongwoon reaches out sleepily to stroke Ryeowook’s hand, and Ryeowook freezes. He tries to pull away but Jongwoon's grip surprises him. When he looks up, Jongwoon isn't looking him in the eye.
“You know they’re just joking,” Jongwoon mumbles. “Hey, if it helps, you make a damn sexy girl.”
Hyukjae laughs, “This is true.”
“I know,” Ryeowook says flatly. “But I’m a man.”
They all laugh, but Jongwoon looks a little nervous, like he’s remembering the fact.
Heechul tells him he’s going to be part of their Chu~<3 performance. Ryeowook asks if he has a choice and Heechul just looks at him.
“You make a fucking hot girl,” he says.
“But I’m not a girl,” Ryeowook says. “I don’t want to dress like a girl. Why do people” - Jongwoon, always Jongwoon - “only like me when I’m dressed as a girl?”
“Because you’re fucking hot,” Heechul repeats, as if he’s talking to a four year old. “Also, you dance the Gee dance better than all our songs combined. Seriously, has anyone ever told you that you should’ve been born a girl?”
That cuts deeper than Ryeowook would’ve liked, but it’s not like he can deny Heechul’s statement. After all, all it takes is that wig - so coarse, so heavy on his head - to make Jongwoon’s eyes flash.
One day, Jongwoon is out in the living room talking to Sungmin about the musical, and Ryeowook touches himself in his bed. It’s just a few lazy strokes, nothing mind-blowing, but he imagines Jongwoon, over and around him, wanting Ryeowook, wanting him, and not a dolled-up fantasy.
Just when Ryeowook’s about to pick up the pace, Jongwoon barges in and immediately freezes. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before, they’ve only lived with each other for years. Still, it’s always a little embarrassing.
“Oh,” Jongwoon says, staring at the ceiling. “Sorry, we were done and, I didn’t know.”
“No, it’s fine,” Ryeowook says, throwing a pillow haphazardly onto his lap.
“I’ll, just. Outside.”
Okay is what Ryeowook intends to say. “I was thinking of you.”
Well, that didn’t come out right.
Jongwoon’s eyes snap to his. “What.”
Shit, Ryeowook panics. "Hyung," he stammers, and Jongwoon's lips purse. For a moment, Ryeowook thinks he sees disapproval in Jongwoon's eyes.
The smart thing to do would be to laugh at off, have him leave, do something, but - Jongwoon isn’t looking at him anymore, and his eyes follow Jongwoon’s line of sight to his desk. They land on a pig-tailed wig, sent by enthusiastic Chu-loving fans, sprawled against empty lyric sheets. Oh god, Ryeowook thinks. Jongwoon’s looking at him, expectant, and it feels like an ultimatum. He squeezes his eyes shut, enough is enough. But, then again, perhaps in the back of Ryeowook’s mind he's always known this is the only way Jongwoon will have him.
He watches Jongwoon pull the wig into his stubby fingers.
“Oppa,” he breathes.
Jongwoon’s eyes darken in an amazingly dangerous way, and Ryeowook’s breath hitches. “Say that again.” Jongwoon’s voice is so gruff, scraping along his ear canals and straight into his heart.
Ryeowook cries, when Jongwoon enters him. It’s painful, sofuckingpainful, and shit, he should’ve read the manual for this - there must be one, right? - should’ve asked Kyuhyun, should’ve done something to prepare him for the hole that’s gaping in his heart, as Jongwoon pulls out achingly slowly, slipping out for the barest of moments before pushing Ryeowook again deep into his sheets. His mouth catches the coarse strands of the wig that keeps threatening to fall from his head, and Ryeowook gags, nearly choking.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jongwoon says, when Ryeowook gasps into his collarbone, bites patches of skin so he won’t scream. “Ryeowook,” he murmurs, like a prayer, like a curse, “So pretty.” Ryeowook's still crying even when they finish, and he turns into his pillow so that he won't have to face Jongwoon for a few precious seconds. Jongwoon's still for a long time, and then Ryeowook hears a sigh as he gets off the bed. When Ryeowook peeks, Jongwoon's pulling off the condom and searching for his boxers, and Ryeowook, somehow, knows that this is it.
Jongwoon brings them post-coital beer, and there’s a moment when Ryeowook thinks he’s going to get under Ryeowook’s covers when instead he turns sharply on his heel and sits on his own bed, pristine, without any traces of their earlier heatedrushedaching moments. The wig's off his head now and Jongwoon refuses to look Ryeowook in the eye. That hurts more than Ryeowook thought it would, even if he knew it was coming.
Jongwoon's leg bobs up and down, a nervous habit, and Ryeowook's eyes follow the movement, perhaps to avoid looking at someone who won't look back. He tries to forget that this is actually what he's been doing since the very beginning. It's only brought him this, after all. Eventually, even the bobbing becomes too much, he can't take it anymore and he turns on his side; the wall is so much safer than Jongwoon.
Finally, Jongwoon lets out a strangled noise.
“You’re not a girl," Jongwoon says.
I wish you were, Ryeowook thinks he hears him say.
“Your observational skills astound me,” Ryeowook says softly.
AN: Yes, I know. It's Yewook. Stereotypical and self-indulgent Yewook at that. I also have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this T_T. Oh well hahaha.
ky_rin, I know you're probably laughing at me right now, if you've even gotten this far. Stop it D: