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Kim Yooyeon is too pretty to not have kissed anyone yet.
Even though fans would loathe to taint the picture-perfect pure image of their idol, it would be absurd to think that she’s never accepted one of the hundreds of perhaps thousands of admirers she surely must’ve had falling at her feet. Over the past few years, Seoyeon’s seen a multitude of pretty boys and even some pretty girls pluck up the courage to approach Yooyeon when they’re out on the street. They’re not big enough—yet, she hopes—to be immediately recognisable, to be so high up that they’re untouchable.
Yet, every single time, Seoyeon had witnessed Yooyeon carefully turn down each invitation, each confession, each attempt for her attention. Part of it is pragmatism, of course—there’s little room for romance in this line of work, especially as rookies, whether you believe in dating bans or not. Still, it had become something of a game for Seoyeon, trying to figure out Yooyeon’s ideal type, trying to figure out who could captivate her enough to risk everything.
“He was cute?” Seoyeon tries, just to keep the conversation going. She didn’t really have an opinion on the boy Yooyeon had just rejected, but from prior observation, she’d figured he might’ve stood a chance. After all, he slightly resembled every predecessor who had the privilege of Yooyeon’s eyes lingering on them just a fraction longer before she inevitably turned them down.
“I guess?” Yooyeon’s eyes are fixed on the straw caught between her own fingers as she stirs her iced coffee absently. She glances up abruptly, nearly startling Seoyeon with the force of her gaze alone. “I didn’t look at him very hard.”
“Ah.”
“Why? Do you like him?” Yooyeon teases, the corners of her eyes crinkling mischievously in a way Seoyeon is all too familiar with.
“Wh-what? No!” They hadn’t ever discussed it, but given how well Yooyeon knows her, she should know that she’s never really paid attention to, well, that type of person. Still, the denial flies out of her mouth faster than she can think, perhaps because it precisely is Yooyeon.
Yooyeon laughs, high and sweet, before redirecting her attention back down to her coffee, the smile melting off her lips. “We don’t really have time for relationships,” she says, matter of fact, “there’s no point starting anything if you know you can’t let it get anywhere.”
If Seoyeon didn’t know Yooyeon quite so well, she might’ve thought that she was remorseful over that boy whom she could’ve had in another life. But, she does know Yooyeon, and knows that she’s more realistic than romantic. Still, she can’t help but prod a little. Call it satiating her own curiosity. Playing with the stove and hoping she doesn’t get burnt.
“Does it bother you, though?” Seoyeon asks, trying to sound nonchalant enough to match Yooyeon’s tone. “Everyone else is meeting people, falling in love… we’re adults now, does it ever feel like we’re falling behind?”
It’s a trivial thing, really, in the grand scheme of everything that they have now that they’ve debuted and everything they’ve already given up to have this. But, small regrets are easy to accumulate. At just over a year, it’s too early to have them, but sometimes Seoyeon feels an errant thought nag at her in the night and wonders, with no small degree of anxiety, if she would ever come to regret this.
“We’re so busy all the time, I guess I don’t really think about it.” Yooyeon smiles wryly, just crooked enough for Seoyeon to be unsure whether she finds anything funny in it at all. “Who’s to say I haven’t been falling in love anyway?”
Seoyeon’s heart stops for just a second in her chest, stuttering with uncertainty. Her throat constricts painfully. “Huh?”
Yooyeon tilts her head like it’s obvious. It strikes Seoyeon then that they might be more different than she’d always assumed, that shared experiences and forced proximity do not equate to enough similarity for them to be on the same page without having to explain.
“If I can have the stage, if I can have this with you, then that’s all I need right now.” Yooyeon has that ‘first love’ type of smile, and a way with words that could make anything sound like a confession for those desperate enough. “I don’t have time for another kind of love.”
“I see.” Seoyeon clenches her fists in her lap, digging her nails into the softness of her palms, trying not to let her mind run away from the ambiguity of Yooyeon’s words. Fanservice is an art that they all have to master, she tells herself, and she will not fall victim to her own con.
“What about you, Seoyeon-ah?” Yooyeon leans forward, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. Seoyeon looks away hurriedly. “Do you like anyone?”
Yooyeon doesn’t have time for a relationship, that much she’s made clear, and Seoyeon can guess well enough that she wouldn’t have time to entertain silly feelings either. No time for anything that could be a distraction from what they’ve fought so hard for. Seoyeon bites her tongue.
“No, not really.”
Seoyeon didn’t expect Yooyeon’s lack of kissing experience to be much of a concern. Afterall, she’s someone who stands firm in her own beliefs, self-assured by nature in a way that Seoyeon can only envy when her own doubts creep up on her at night. Yet, when Yooyeon drags her into her room the moment she’s returned from filming, she can tell that there’s something wrong.
“Seoyeon-ah,” Yooyeon says, pausing to worry her lip between her teeth. “Can you do me a favor?”
“What’s wrong?” Seoyeon replies instead, because she knows Yooyeon well enough to read the tension written into the slight clench of her jaw, the stiffness where her shoulder and neck meet.
Yooyeon sighs loudly, running a hand through her hair. “It’s a bit stupid,” she admits, eyes fixed on a point somewhere behind Seoyeon.
“I’m sure it’s not.” Seoyeon reaches out, catching one of Yooyeon’s hands in hers. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”
“Mm…” Yooyeon hesitates, eyes darting around the room before finally landing on Seoyeon’s face, then drifting down. “I— I’m supposed to film a kiss scene,” She pauses, like she’s expecting Seoyeon to have some kind of reaction, but all she does is run her thumb across the back of Yooyeon’s hand slowly. “It’s not a big deal, I didn’t think it would be a big deal when I saw it in the script.”
“It’s just acting,” Seoyeon ventures. Is she worried about backlash from the fans?
“No, I mean— well, I haven’t, you know, kissed anyone…” Yooyeon’s voice trails off. Her cheeks are faintly pink.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine—”
“Can you— can you—” Seoyeon feels her heart stutter. Surely, Yooyeon isn’t…? “Could you, um, kiss me?”
Time seems to slow in that moment, Seoyeon painfully aware of every single point of contact between them. She stills, breath catching in her chest.
When Yooyeon doesn’t laugh, doesn’t brush it off as a joke, only looks up at her with sincerity burning in her eyes, Seoyeon finds herself at a loss. What does she mean, kiss her?
“Like,” Seoyeon licks her lips nervously, because she has to be misunderstanding, “for practice…?”
Devastatingly, Yooyeon shakes her head. “No, I’m not— I’m not worried about that.”
“Then...?”
“I just, um, don’t want my first kiss to be some random guy, you know?”
“So, you mean you want…” Seoyeon can’t bring herself to say it, “for real?”
Yooyeon nods, apprehensive.
“Why— Why me?” There are other people Yooyeon could pick for this, she’s sure.
“Does it matter?” Yooyeon’s eyes flick away from hers, the blush on her cheeks intensifying. Seoyeon can almost see the way her walls go up, shutting her out from the sliver of vulnerability that had been painted over Yooyeon’s features just a moment prior. “Will you help me?”
Against her better judgement, Seoyeon nods.
Before she can process what that might mean, Yooyeon shifts forward, leaning towards her. The kiss is short, clumsy, exhilarating. Yooyeon’s lips barely brush against Seoyeon’s, whose eyes are still wide open, before she pulls back.
Yooyeon’s eyes open again. She regards Seoyeon, expression unreadable.
“Was that— Is that what you wanted?” Seoyeon stutters, disappointment gripping her even as her heart threatens to burst out of her chest. Yooyeon, kissing her, she never would’ve dared to imagine—
“No,” Yooyeon murmurs, eyes fixed on Seoyeon’s lips. “I want you to kiss me.”
This time, Seoyeon leans in. Her hands are trembling, and her entire body might as well be buzzing with an equal mix of anticipation and trepidation. What the hell is she doing?
None of it matters though when Yooyeon gasps against her mouth, hands sliding up in her hair to pull Seoyeon closer.
“Mm…” Yooyeon hums as she draws back for the briefest second, nose brushing against Seoyeon’s as she does, before pressing in again.
Beneath all the apprehension is greed thrumming, blood roaring in Seoyeon’s ears as she moves a tentative hand to Yooyeon’s hip. All she wanted was to tether herself with the way that her head is spinning, but it serves as a signal for Yooyeon to climb into her lap.
“Seoyeon-ah,” Yooyeon’s hand slided down to cup her jaw. “More…”
Seoyeon is the one to pull back. She can’t be taking advantage of Yooyeon, not when Yooyeon had been the one to ask, but she hasn’t been truthful about what she’s getting out of it either. A semblance of guilt gnaws at her, but only before she looks up.
Red tinges Yooyeon’s cheeks, spreading to her ears, past her parted lips, and slowly down to her neck. They’re still so close that, as her eyes flutter open slowly, Seoyeon can make out just how dilated her pupils are. She’s probably worse than Yooyeon with how out-of-control she feels now.
“Why’d you stop?” Yooyeon asks, voice low and husky. Her tongue sweeps across her swollen bottom lip, swiping away what must be the mixture of their saliva, the movement capturing Seoyeon’s attention.
Seoyeon swallows hard, heart racing in her chest. She wonders if Yooyeon’s heart is beating this fast too—from adrenaline, if not from anxiety.
Yooyeon’s eyes flick over her face, before settling on her lips. It’s a bad habit of hers that doesn’t mean anything, Seoyeon knows, but she quickly averts her eyes from Yooyeon’s face, lest all the staring get her own hopes up.
“Seoyeon,” Yooyeon murmurs, and that’s all the warning Seoyeon gets before she shifts forward again, pressing into Seoyeon’s lap as she loosely locks her hands behind her neck. Unwilling to wait as Seoyeon stares mutedly at her anymore, Yooyeon leans in, their noses brush. Seoyeon’s eyes are already closed again when she hears Yooyeon say, “Put your hands on me.”
“Unnie…” Seoyeon feels a small hand encircle her wrist, Yooyeon easily arranging her the way she wants. “Unnie,” Seoyeon repeats, unable to form a coherent thought. She should stop her, she knows, because this is rapidly veering out of what they agreed, but she can’t bring herself to.
“Seoyeonie” She can hear the mischievous little smile in Yooyeon’s voice before lips press against hers again.
Even though Yooyeon’s impatient enough to push, Seoyeon had learnt—with an almost frightening speed—from the past few minutes that what she really wants is for Seoyeon to lead. When Seoyeon solidifies her grip on her waist, assured by the knowledge that this is what Yooyeon wants, she feels Yooyeon melt against her with a little contented sigh.
Seoyeon lets her hand slide down, pulling the two of them impossibly closer. With their fronts pressed up against one another, she wonders if Yooyeon can feel the frantic thudding of her heart against her chest and if it mirrors her own. Or if Yooyeon’s not concerned with that at all as she crosses her ankles behind Seoyeon’s back, whimpering into Seoyeon’s mouth when her hand finally slides down her back.
This time, Yooyeon is the one to pull back. A small fist lands on Seoyeon’s shoulder as Yooyeon gasps for air. Seoyeon wipes her own mouth with the back of her hand, staring wide-eyed at Yooyeon as she catches her own breath. There the girl of her dreams is, breathless and disheveled in her lap, and it makes Seoyeon want to pull her in again to ruin her.
Yooyeon hits her shoulder again, pushing her back even if her other hand remains fisted tightly in Seoyeon’s shirt. Then, as if she’s only just realised the compromising position that they’re in, Yooyeon lets go, sliding out of Seoyeon’s lap hurriedly.
“I’m sorry,” Seoyeon whispers, blinking rapidly to clear her mind of those sinful thoughts. Panic spikes through her as she notices how Yooyeon’s putting distance between them instead of lounging comfortably against her like she did before. “Are you okay? Did I take it too far?”
Now that she’s had a taste, it’s all too tempting to demand for more. Especially when Yooyeon had kissed her back so hungrily, clinging to her like a lifeline. If Seoyeon were to hazard a guess, she’d suspect that she’s not the only one who wants more.
Yooyeon shakes her head, clearing her throat. “No, it’s okay,” she replies quietly, glancing away shyly. A hand flies up to touch her lips, reminding Seoyeon abruptly that this was supposed to be her first kiss after all.
She doesn’t say anything else, leaving Seoyeon to stare at her in silence, hesitant to reach out and touch her again, if only to check that everything is really fine. Her throat constricts at the thought of having ruined everything between them, because she could’ve sworn that everything about Yooyeon had been saying yes only for her to pull away without explanation.
When Yooyeon has finally caught her breath, the flush on her face nearly receded, she turns to face Seoyeon again.
“Thank you, Seoyeon-ah,” Yooyeon says, a small smile on her lips like Seoyeon had agreed to do her portion of the chores. “I really appreciate you helping me with this.”
With that, Yooyeon gets up, a bounce in her step as she leaves the room. Seoyeon flops back onto her bed, letting the action knock some of the air out of her lungs. Her bewilderment—because hadn’t she wanted this too?—lasts only a moment, something shaped a little like regret overtaking the emotion quickly.
After all, Yooyeon had only said that she wanted a favor.