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English
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Published:
2016-06-30
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1,755
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1/1
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lethargy

Summary:

After a long day, Byulyi comes home to Jung Wheein.

Notes:

Unbeta'd and largely unedited. Feedback appreciated:)

Disclaimer: The events reflected in this work do not mirror actual events. The characters used in this piece are for writing exercise only. Mamamoo belongs to RBW, and the characters to themselves, obviously.

Work Text:

Byulyi entered her apartment with a sigh, exhaustion nipping at her ankles. It had been a long day of photoshoots and filming, going from a CF to her cameo on We Got Married. She’d been up since 3am. Byulyi was proud to represent their group and support their beloved leader, but if she didn’t get a good night’s sleep tonight, she was liable to collapse.

She was so focused on trying to unlace her shoes that she failed to notice that her apartment was significantly brighter. Outside, the world had slowed, night blanketing the city. As she’d stumbled out of the van in the lobby, Byulyi had noted the chill and quiet, goosebumps rising on her neck as she’d waved their manager goodbye and all but ran into the apartment complex. She moved now to fiddle with the thermostat, when she realised she didn’t have to.

It was a testament to her tiredness that her first reaction was so mild. Let the intruder attack her, was her first thought. God knew she wouldn’t have been able to fight them off. Maybe she would offer her designer watches as a bribe to leave her alone. Relief was her second overwhelming response. The smell of something pasta wafting from the kitchen lifted her spirits enough to convince her to drag herself off the floor to greet the chef.

“Hello.” Byulyi draped herself across the floor, having given up on standing. Wheein turned at the sound of her voice, a vision in a cute blue apron and amusement. Byulyi let herself enjoy the sight of her member. She hadn’t seen her since the CF shoot. Granted, that had been noon, but. Why wouldn’t anyone want to stare at the brunette all day?

(Okay, so she was really tired.)

This thought echoed in her mind as she tried her best to smile. Wheein just giggled and crouched down, eyes soft as she watched the rapper. A small waggle of her fingers in a wave had Byulyi convinced Wheein was the cutest person alive.

“Are you going to take dinner down there?”

“Maybe.” Byulyi dragged out the word, slurring unintentionally. She didn’t feel all that coherent, really. “I don’t think I’m up to sitting right now.”

“I made us pasta.” Wheein got up and stirred the pot, eyes glancing over her shoulder. “You should go shower. Or try to make it out of your coat, at least.”

“I love you, Wheein.” Byulyi moaned. “You’re the best.”

Wheein barely reacted to the pun. It wasn’t like Byulyi made that joke every other day or something. “You’re still not eating till you get out of your clothes.”

“Hey, if I wanted to wear my jacket to dinner tonight, I should be able to. I worked hard today.” A pause. “I had to watch Eric-hyung and Yongdonnie dance around each other for hours.” Another pause. “It was so painful.” Wheein made an agreeable sort of noise as she turned off the stove. “Are you listening Wheein? They should just date already.”

“Well, they’re kind of already married, so.” Wheein sniffled dramatically. “They grow up so fast.” Byulyi thought she looked ridiculous. Wheein could tell. She wagged the cream-covered ladle at Byulyi as she started to plate their meal. “Don’t look at me like that, missy. I know what you’re thinking.”

“What?” Byulyi raised her eyebrows challengingly. Wheein paused and turned to look at her, leaning back on the counter with her hands. Byulyi smiled stupidly up at her. That seemed to help Wheein come to a decision. She pushed off with her hands, walking over to her. When she was close enough, she crouched down and reached out for Byulyi’s hair. Byulyi missed her indulgent smile when she turned her head to nuzzle into the touch. She had to repeat her question once again. “What?”

“You’re thinking…” Byulyi listened carefully. Wheein flicked her between the eyebrows. “ – I’ll let you off from changing out. Go.”

Ignoring the rapper’s whining, the brunette straightened and untied her apron, bustling around in the kitchen again. Realising she had lost this round, Byulyi got up, a little energized from her short rest. Somehow, she fumbled through a shower and changing into her pajamas okay. By the time she returned outside, Wheein was sat at the table, tapping away on her phone. There was a bowl of pasta in front of her, and another opposite, separated only by a flower centerpiece she’d begged Byulyi to let her put when the rapper first moved in. Byulyi had to admit, the picture warmed her more than she hoped the food would.

“Looks great.” Her hair was still damp from the shower, and Byulyi flicked the ends over her shoulder. Using the edges of the towel, she ruffled it a bit more to keep it from dripping before setting it aside. The smell of the dish hit her then, and she couldn’t help her grin. “Thank you, Wheein-ah.”

“Hyejin says hi. She and Hyuna went drinking.” Wheein set her phone aside and picked up her fork. “She’ll probably try and call you later. You know how she gets.”

“Should I turn it off now?” Byulyi managed to grin, but her phone was inside the pocket of her jeans. Those were in a pile on the floor of her bedroom right now. Wheein smiled like she was in on the secret, and started to eat.

Byulyi indulged too, familiar with the taste of Wheein’s cooking. It wasn’t as good as Yongsun’s, really, but Byulyi appreciated it nonetheless. This gratitude swelled in her as she kept sneaking glances at her dinner partner, not caring that she got caught multiple times. Each time, she’d smile goofily at Wheein, who just shook her head. Eventually, Byulyi’s fingers inched across the table to take Wheein’s free hand in hers. The only acknowledgement of her action was the tangling of their fingers together. The flutter in her chest was all Wheein’s fault.

Dinner flew by after that, time liquid now that Byulyi was anchored by the warmth of Wheein’s palm in hers. When Wheein’s fork settled in her bowl at the end, Byulyi set hers aside too, itching to trace patterns on the brunette’s skin.

“Thank you, Wheein-ah.” Byulyi wanted to tell her she almost hadn’t come home. Wanted to tell her that the thought of her empty apartment had almost scared her enough past her exhaustion to accept Yongsun’s dinner invitation with Eric. Wanted to tell her that she was so glad and appreciative of everything that Wheein was, that she was sorry she couldn’t always put it in words. That Wheein had been on her mind ever since their goodbye at lunch, and that Byulyi had planned to call her that night in bed just so she could hear her voice before she slept.

But Byulyi wasn’t good with her words. She was okay at lyrics and rap, because lyrics weren’t really hers, per se. They belonged to the song. But the feelings she had for Wheein? Well.

So she hesitated, and Wheein tilted her head. And in that moment, with Wheein patient, Byulyi wanted to act on everything that had been building between them ever since she’d first met the brunette girl. It was the way the smile spread across her lips that did it for Byulyi. Wheein knew, somehow. Wheein had just been waiting.

The first press of her lips against Wheein was soft. The second was messy. By the third, Byulyi was fighting off the wave of lethargy that just hit. With a sigh, she rested her forehead against Wheein’s, pained by the small whine that followed as Wheein chased her lips. Byulyi really tried to keep up, but she had to squeeze Wheein’s hand to let her know she just couldn’t. When she blearily opened her eyes, Wheein still had hers closed, teeth biting on her bottom lip. As if that didn’t make Byulyi want to kiss her all over again.

“Sorry.” Byulyi meant it. The heat of Wheein’s breath on her face made her weak. “I think I’m going to fall over.”

“That was nice.” Wheein nodded, making Byulyi grin despite herself. It had been more than nice. “Can we do that again sometime?”

“Okay.” Byulyi shrugged as she dredged up the strength to kiss Wheein’s forehead chastely before returning to her seat. Wheein, shy now, busied herself with cleaning up, but Byulyi wouldn’t let her go away without one last squeeze of their hands. She would clean up next time, she told her, but she doubted Wheein cared. There would be more next times, she figured. Lots and lots of nights she could look forward to now that she knew Wheein would be waiting. And the familiar feelings of inadequacy filled her as she watched Wheein putter about at the sink. Fears that she wasn’t enough for everything that the girl in front of her was.

She didn’t deserve her, she thought. But she would try. She would try to make her happy for as long as Wheein let her. That thought gave her the courage to smile back when the brunette turned around to face her.

“Bed?” She asked hopefully, and Wheein laughed, this loud, sweet sound Byulyi had heard only rarely before.

“Bed.” And she took her hand again, leading Byulyi to the bedroom that was technically Byulyi’s alone. She navigated the apartment like it was hers. Byulyi realised she liked that.

Neither had to discuss whether Wheein was staying the night. Byulyi just turned around and got into bed as Wheein darted into the bathroom to change. When she returned, Byulyi was halfway asleep already, pressed up against the wall to make space for another body. Wheein slipped between the sheets quietly, at first leaving a gap between them. When Byulyi sleepily murmured her name, Wheein came closer, pressing her nose into the skin of the rapper’s neck. The smell of Wheein’s shampoo was what helped Byulyi drift to sleep. That, and the rhythm of her breath.

Tomorrow, her first thought would be that she was holding an angel. Her second thought would be to kiss it good morning. Her third would be that Wheein had morning breath, but her fourth would be that she didn’t care. And her fifth was that she would love to have those thoughts over and over again, for as long as Wheein would give them to her.

But for tonight, she slept. Her last thought would be that she hoped Jung Wheein didn’t snore.

(She doesn’t think she’d mind either way.)