Chapter Text
“Please don’t poke me in the eye,” Jisu gasps, fingers curling around the lip of the sinktop. The marble is cold against her palms, and even more so against her barely covered thighs. Felicia’s hand wafts closer wielding her prized water-resistant mascara and Jisu’s eyes spasm shut prematurely.
Lix laughs. “I won’t if you can keep your eyes still, baby.” She tips Jisu’s chin up a smidge. “Look at me and keep your eyes half open, okay?”
“Okay,” Jisu shudders. Her foot taps a steady rhythm on the cabinet as the mascara wand closes in, counting the freckles on Felicia’s face as a distraction. She flinches a few times as Lix applies it, barely avoiding getting stabbed in the eye, but they finesse it with some quick flicks and now Jisu’s all done up. The only thing left to go is changing clothes, but that’s sadly the part she’s dreading the most.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to wear it, it’s just that… after going twenty one years having never shaved her legs and swearing off pink and skirts and dresses at eight it's supremely awkward to try and re-embrace all of it. Jisu doesn’t wear skirts . That’s kind of like, half of her thing. She sports wide ripped jeans and baggy shirts and black beanies. It’s not intentional but that’s all she has in her wardrobe.
It was Lix that saw Jisu eying her pleated skirt on a day out and offered to let her borrow some for their next party. As soon as Jisu agreed, the plans morphed from simply lending out a garment to going the whole nine yards: teaching her how to shave, plucking her eyebrows, doing her make-up, and now, consulting the hangers of their three narrowed-down outfit choices severely like a stylist faced with a make or break decision for an end-of-year idol stage. They look more or less the same to Jisu, with only slight variances in colour palette and vibe, but she’d rather die than voice that to Lix who would no doubt string Jisu up for the slight to her fashion dilemma.
Ultimately she decides to voice an opinion anyway, if only because Lix is working herself up.
“I don’t think my boobs will fill out that last top,” Jisu says over the sound of her heels. Lix turns to her, giving her boobs an assessing look before considering the top.
“Sorry baby, but I think you’re right,” she sighs, removing the hanger from the hook and laying it over the lip of the bathtub with the pile of rejects.
“I couldn’t care less what you think of my boobs.”
Lix laughs with her. “You’re lucky unnie’s an ass girl.”
“Unnie cannot be defined by the workings of the heterosexual male mind. She transcends the false dichotomy between ass and boob. She carves her own path. She makes her own way. She is a demon. She is god. She exists in a series of singular transient moments, and she is eternal. She is desireless and insatiable all at once.”
“Got it, she likes you and your itty bitty titties.”
“That she does,” Jisu nods sagely. “She’s a lover not a hater. Even though unnie was denied entry into the itty bitty titty committee, she remains a stout ally of our kind.”
Lix gasps in offence, clutching the chosen top to her chest as if to conceal it. “You think my boobs are tiny.”
“I have eyes.”
Lix rolls her eyes and snatches the last outfit off the hook. “This one it is. You said you’re okay with the lace?”
Jisu gulps, assessing the chosen garments. A pink corset top with some floral embellishments accompanied by a fairly simple white ruffled skirt. It’s, well, definitely girlish and definitely not something she would have picked out for herself. She looks down at her current attire, which is nothing but a ratty band tee and sweatpants. On the other hand, it makes total sense that Felicia would be in possession of them. Her entire wardrobe looks like a fairy sneezed on it and the result is that she herself looks like an ethereal princess wherever she goes. Now for Jisu to pull off ethereal princess.
Lix encouragingly extends the clothes, puttering about the square foot of the bathroom, scraping things off the sink and cleaning up as Jisu changes. Without letting herself wallow in thought for too long, she strips off her sweatpants and top, and, only letting one breath of hesitation, unclasps her bra as well. The skirt is actually a skort, little comfy shorts disguised by the ruffles, which is exactly the sort of considerate thing typical of Lix, and gets pulled on easily enough. The corset on the other hand has several little clasps on the back that she can’t reach so after trying to hook them for a solid minute with no avail while Bookie pretends not to be itching to help, she gives up and surrenders her back, whining.
“Lixie, my fingers are too small.”
“Too clumsy, maybe,” she coos, doing up the clasps. “That tight enough? There’s some string to adjust the upper back if you want.”
“Yeah, maybe a little.”
Lix takes the string above the last clasp and Jisu can feel her tie a tight bow. “Perfect,” she declares, dropping a little peck between Jisu’s shoulder blades. She squeaks, whirling around to escape but Lix is already scooting off to find her curler and change into her own outfit for tonight, a somewhat matching corset in green and very short shorts.
“Back up on the counter, baby,” she calls out as she expertly winds up the laced backing off her own corset top. “I’m gonna do your hair too.”
“What could you possibly do with my hair?” Jisu asks, pinching her chin length locks between two fingers and rubbing them, just to have something to do that isn’t watching Lix get changed.
Alas, Lix catches her in a moment of straying eyes and shoots her a flirty wink, to which she responds with an exaggerated grimace. “I’m gonna give you space buns! Or like, try to at least.”
So Jisu jumps back up onto the counter, and Lix settles between her thighs. She turns her face this way and that as she tries to get the two buns evenly spaced and once she’s happy with it, ties them up and tops them off with frankly extra pink bows.
It’s that position that Minhee catches them in when she crashes the Lix Bathroom Party. Her jaw tightens.
Jisu kind of expects her to be jealous. That’s par for the course. Unnie is very possessive and a lot of the time Jisu likes it. Likes that no one expects Minhee, star student of the dance department, to 1) be a raging lesbian, 2) have a girlfriend like Jisu and 3) be completely and utterly enamoured with said girlfriend. Jisu . She’s in love with Jisu. That’s a miracle she gets to wake up every day.
“Lixie,” Minhee purrs, voice dangerously sweet. Jisu’s gut clenches. She waits for Minhee to tell Lix to get out from between her thighs, to leave her own house or something else appropriately ridiculous, but instead, “What did you do to my Jisu?”
My Jisu. Her stomach curdles.
“Unnie,” she perks. The hungry look in Minhee’s eyes and the tightness of her jaw scoops out the rest of her insides, leaving her raw like an exposed wire. She kicks Lix in the shin with desperate jerks to get her to leave. Can’t she read the room?
Lix takes her cue and bolts out of the bathroom, curler and pins with her, and Minhee wastes no time filling the space between Jisu’s legs. She crowds her further onto the sinktop, back fully pressed up to the mirror, and pushes into her until Jisu’s skirt is bunched up at the top her thigh and they’re forehead to forehead. Her thumbs press into the exposed strip of skin at Jisu’s waist, right below the lower hem of the corset.
Jisu whines. She wants Minhee to kiss her. She’s teasing, occupying her space like this, touching her like this, being so close and not giving anything. Minhee smirks as if she knows exactly what Jisu’s thinking.
At the end of the day, Minhee always gives her what she wants.
She kisses her once, chaste and soft, before pulling back. Her thumbs rove along Jisu’s waist against, and this time they pinch.
“My baby, did you get dressed up for me?”
It’s Jisu’s turn to smile as she hooks her hands around Minhee’s neck. “Nope! Did it all for myself!”
Minhee knows this of course – they’ve talked about it a lot, how Jisu wants to experiment with how she presents – but she huffs anyway, upset Jisu isn’t playing along with the bit.
Nevertheless, she leans in to steal another kiss and Jisu lets her.
“My precious baby,” she whispers between kisses. “So pretty in pink.” She pulls away again and ignores Jisu’s protests to tug at one of the bows in her hair. “Baby girl likes her pinks and her flowers?”
Something in Jisu’s stomach kicks. Minhee grins knowingly and leans in again.
Jisu is ruined.