8 Works by yuyomi
Listing Works
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Summary
And, now that there’s at least a miniscule amount of distance between them, he realizes how inexplicably tangled they’d become. Their legs are all but fused together, each one bare from the foot to the mid-thigh, and Yunho’s right arm seems to be trapped beneath one that isn’t his, dragged over the taper of a waist and held firm to a beating chest.
He can only stare while the color bleeds into his face with so much intensity that it burns with the start of a blush, lighting up in the balls of his cheeks and spreading like wildfire into the tips of his ears.
He got into bed with Jung Wooyoung.
He got into bed with Jung Wooyoung.
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“Well.” Wooyoung tightens his grip around the chopsticks propped between his fingers and stabs them at the freshly grilled samgyeopsal on his plate. “This is the part where you ask me if I’m crazy and tell me that disaster is about to strike and that you’ll be armed and ready with an I told you so after the world crashes and burns around us.”
Mingi rolls his eyes, bemused. “If you wanted that, you would’ve gone to Hongjoong first.” His gaze then drops with mild concern, tracking where Wooyoung is taking his stress out on his food by hastily splitting pieces of it away from the mainland. “Besides, this won't be the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”
Wooyoung’s eyes dart upwards and his fingers skid to a stop. “What is, then?”
Mingi’s lips give a slight twitch at the corners. “Dumping Yunho.”
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“I didn’t call you to hear about how bad of an idea this is,” Wooyoung grumbles, words muffled behind his hands. “I already know it’s a fucking bad idea. The worst, even.”
“Then why the hell are you doing it?” comes the question Wooyoung has been asking himself since San left his apartment that morning, this time projected from his phone’s speaker instead of knocking around pinball-style within the privacy of his skull.
“Because, Hongjoong, I’m whipped beyond all worldly measurements, if you happened to miss the memo,” he snaps. “Because Choi San could ask me to clean a dirty car with my current toothbrush and all I’d ask is which soap I should use. I’d even hit the interior, give it a good carpet scrub.”
San asks Wooyoung to be his boyfriend for the night. Wooyoung is as elated as he is irrevocably doomed.
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Yeosang implores, "Is telling the truth an option? Like, hey, Wooyoung, I've had a pretty humiliating crush on you for as long as anyone can remember and have been subjecting all of our friends to the troubles and turmoils of circumventing my feelings for years and hearing someone finger-bang you the other day made matters significantly worse? And maybe we should talk about it?"
Mingi stuffs a piece of fried tofu in his mouth and chews with a tensed jaw, eyes narrowing. "No."
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"Thanks to your genius idea," Wooyoung continues hotly, flying past the front counter to jab his finger into the time clock machine at the mouth of the adjacent hallway, "Yunho thinks I want to date him."
Mingi breathes out a low whistle, letting the pages of the magazine in his hands flutter shut. "Then you should be thanking me for getting you a hot boyfriend," he suggests, smiling in the wake of Wooyoung's fury.
"He's not my fucking boyfriend," Wooyoung seethes, punching buttons on the cash register until the door pops open.
"I said hot boyfriend," comes the breezy response, "and I'm only hearing half of a denial."
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"We're- no, we're not- no," he stammers, hands waving in front of him with urgent dismissal, "We're- we are not a thing. Not at all. Never."
"Oh." Jongho purses his lips, regarding Wooyoung with doubt. "Then he just looks at you during rehearsals like he wants to undress you with his teeth in front of everyone for fun, then?"
Wooyoung freezes, stomach dropping so far down that he feels it bounce at his feet. "He what?"
With an angelic smile, Jongho plucks a red rose from one of the vases, pressing it into Wooyoung's numb hand. "On the house," he tells him, curling his fingers around the dampened stem when they neglect to move on their own. "Enjoy the Yunho. The show, I mean. Enjoy the show!"
By a stroke of misfortune, Wooyoung meets Yunho, and his abhorrent personality is almost enough to keep him uninterested. Almost.
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Summary
So, this thing with Wooyoung. Yunho should have known what he'd be getting himself into, who he'd be getting himself into. Jung Wooyoung, with his flowery embellishments and endless adamance. Jung Wooyoung, who had chipped away at the brick wall of Yunho's resolve day after day after day until he began to lose the very essence of himself. Missing deadlines, late arrivals, forgotten due dates, stupidity, idiocy, inadequacy. That's what loving Wooyoung did to him. Or, really, what he did to love Wooyoung.
To love Wooyoung. Love.
Oh, no.
Series
- Part 2 of control (and the loss thereof): a study
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Summary
"Sometimes I wish you'd shut up," Yunho grumbled.
Wooyoung didn't give himself a single second to utilize his brain, and not one cell within it offered its aid to him. His counter-attack was stumbling out of his lips before he could take it back. "Sometimes I wish you'd make me."
Series
- Part 1 of control (and the loss thereof): a study