Work Text:
Byulyi leaned back in her seat, avoiding the whip of Yongsun’s hair as she tossed her head to the side.
“Why are you so cruel,” Yongsun whispered. Only her tragically dejected cheek was visible.
Byulyi leaned forward again to lift a lock of hair away from Yongsun’s cheek. Laughter ruined her attempt at a deep voice as she murmured, “How can anyone trust you when you lie so often?”
Yongsun made a wounded sound and cast herself sideways. She clutched at Wheein, across the narrow aisle between the car seats.
“Unnieeee,” Wheein objected, sleepily fighting her off.
Byulyi corralled Yongsun with an arm around her waist, pulling her back, and Wheein curled in towards the window again, her arm over her face as she tried to sleep. In the front seat, Hyejin had been leaning against the headrest like a still-life angel for the past half hour or more; she was either sleeping or listening to music in closed-eyed meditation. Their manager was a little more awake at the wheel, Byulyi thought – hoped – as she’d been able to nap a bit during their last radio interview.
“Even children reject me!” Yongsun cried, low and broken. She cast the back of her hand against her forehead. “But I could endure anything, if you would believe and stand by me, oppa.”
Byulyi was more delirious with fatigue than actually sleepy, at this point. Definitely loopy enough to play along with Yongsun’s romantic drama improv. Not that Byulyi didn’t follow Yongsun’s lead most of the time anyway: Yongsun was hard to resist, even when she was being ridiculous and embarrassing.
Byulyi leaned forward, placing a finger under Yongsun’s chin and tilting her face up. “Will you tell me the truth?” she asked.
Yongsun met Byulyi's eyes, her own dark pools of emotion. “No,” she whispered.
Byulyi gave a too-loud snort, slapping a hand across her mouth to muffle her giggles.
They both looked up as the car slowed, turning off the main road. Their manager looked up, catching Yongsun's eyes in the mirror.
“Petrol stop,” she explained quietly. She slipped out of her seatbelt, grabbing her purse as she got out of the car.
Wheein made a wordless little sound of complaint about the light spilling into her window. She curled in tighter, her face now completely hidden under her arm.
It was even quieter inside the car without the hum of the engine. Yongsun hushed her voice as she picked up her self-appointed role again, apparently not bored with tragic femme fatales yet.
“Tell me you loved me once?” she asked, her voice hitching on a sob.
Byulyi was beginning to run out of ideas for her own character. She tipped Yongsun’s face up once more. “Perhaps I loved who I thought you were. Have you – have you ever said anything true? Can you say even one thing true for me now?”
“So cruel,” Yongsun whispered.
Byulyi made her voice as low and throaty as she could, thinking out her line as she went. “Surely even your – your pretty, deceptive mouth is capable of conveying a – of conveying one true feeling.”
Yongsun pressed her fingers to her own throat, a choked sound of emotion escaping her.
“Then here!” Yongsun whispered. “Here is your truth, and damn you!” And she ducked forward and pressed a kiss to Byulyi’s mouth.
Byulyi was still half in character. Her fingers curled around Yongsun’s jaw, steadying her.
Yongsun pulled back far enough to meet Byulyi’s eyes. Her own eyes were dark, half shadowed by the glossy sweep of her hair. She opened her mouth to speak; hesitated and wet her lips. Her gaze was searching.
Byulyi didn’t know what Yongsun was looking for. She felt as if she was about to fall; as if she couldn’t get her breath properly.
Yongsun leaned in again, just a little. Byulyi closed the distance between their mouths.
It was soft. Byulyi moved the barest bit, her mouth dragging warm against Yongsun’s. Yongsun shifted just enough to catch Byulyi’s lower lip between hers. Byulyi parted her mouth, a hitched breath escaping her throat.
Yongsun curled her hand into the lapel of Byulyi’s shirt and tugged her closer.
Byulyi leaned in, following her, moving her mouth more insistently against Yongsun’s. She felt Yongsun’s tongue flicker inside her mouth, tracing the sensitive inside of her lower lip. Byulyi’s stomach swooped.
The driver’s side door swung open. Their manager made quiet “Brrrrr” sounds as she rubbed her arms against the cold.
Yongsun pulled away, turning to face front again.
Byulyi leaned back against her seat, slowly. Yongsun was saying something to their manager – asking something in a quiet, leaderly way. Byulyi couldn’t make it out over the thudding of her own heart.
They pulled out of the petrol station and joined the main road again. Hyejin woke up enough to tug out her earphones and ask how far they were from the dorm.
Yongsun turned around, throwing Byulyi a quick smile. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, her easy impish smile giving away nothing. Byulyi smiled back, feeling lost, and Yongsun turned around again.
Byulyi leaned back and looked out of the window at the streetlights streaming past. She raised her fingers to her mouth, then dropped them, tapping a rhythm against the glass.
She didn’t know how to think about what had just happened, but she couldn’t think about anything else.
It had happened before, once. When they were trainees, half-awake play fighting over the bathroom sink had turned into kissing. Yongsun had had a tiny bit of toothpaste at the corner of her mouth, and the toothbrush she’d just finished rinsing had dripped water on Byulyi’s neck when Yongsun put her hand on Byulyi’s shoulder.
They’d been interrupted that time, too. Hyejin had stumbled in from the bedroom with her sleep mask still half covering her eyes. She’d pushed it up and yawned at them, blinking, and Byulyi had stepped out of her way, putting a hand on her hip to guide her to the sink as she stumbled over her own slippers.
Byulyi had glanced at Yongsun, her breath unsteady in her throat, but Yongsun had avoided her eyes. Instead Yongsun had bent her attention on Hyejin, mussing up her hair and laughing as Hyejin grumbled and tried to swat her away.
It had felt unreal, afterwards, especially when Yongsun never brought it up. Byulyi had half convinced herself it hadn’t happened.
Yongsun didn’t look at her again, now, until they’d reached the dorm.
They piled out of the car in a sleepy tangle. Wheein was yawning and knuckling at her eyes like a little girl as she stepped out onto the kerb. Yongsun glanced at Byulyi, her eyes sparkling, the way she always did when Wheein did something adorable. Byulyi smiled back, helpless to stop it.
Yongsun’s smile faded, her eyes unreadable again, and after a moment she looked away.
The sound of the engine was quiet in the night as their manager pulled away again, taking the car around to the garage entrance. Wheein leaned against Hyejin while Yongsun found her swipe card for the building.
Hyejin put an arm around her, and Wheein tipped her head back against Hyejin’s shoulder.
“Did you sleep?” Wheein mumbled. She yawned again. “I tried to, but there was a dramatic breakup happening right next to me.”
“Our Moonstar is a heartbreaker,” Yongsun agreed. It seemed as though she started to look over at Byulyi, but she looked down at her bag instead.
“Oh, a heartbreaker,” Hyejin said. She flashed Byulyi a tired smile. “Unnie, how sly.”
“Well, we always knew she was a flirt,” Yongsun said, with a little laugh.
There was something fragile in the way Yongsun was holding herself: a tension that Byulyi hadn’t realised was there. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe – if she was understanding –
“I’m not, you know,” Byulyi said.
Yongsun did turn to look at her then. Byulyi met her arrested gaze.
“You make it sound like I would play without meaning anything by it, because of – of the mood, or something.” Byulyi swallowed, her throat dry. She kept her eyes on Yongsun. “But I don’t know how to do that. I never did.”
Yongsun’s eyes widened. Her mouth slipped into a soft shape that she hid, after a moment, with a duck of her head.
"Oh," Yongsun said. And when she lifted her face to meet Byulyi’s gaze again, her dawning smile was as dazzling as the sun.