Chapter Text
The elevator dinged at 3:00 AM.
Yujin had been leaning against her door for the past twenty minutes, arms crossed, waiting. She'd heard the bass from the club two blocks away finally die down. Had tracked the time it would take to get a taxi back. Had known exactly when Wonyoung would stumble home.
Heels clicked unsteadily down the hallway. A muffled giggle, then a curse as something – probably a shoulder – hit the wall.
Wonyoung rounded the corner and stopped dead.
"Shit." Not surprised, just inconvenienced. Her lipstick was smudged, dress riding up her thighs from however she'd been dancing. Or whatever else she'd been doing. "You waiting for me?"
"We need to talk."
"At three in the morning?" Wonyoung fumbled with her clutch, searching for her keycard. "Can't this wait until—"
"No."
The keycard slipped from Wonyoung's fingers, clattering on the marble floor. When she bent to retrieve it, Yujin caught the full force of it – tequila, smoke, sweat, and sex. Someone else's cologne clinging to her skin.
"You can't keep doing this."
Wonyoung straightened slowly, keycard in hand. "Doing what exactly?"
"Coming back like this. Smelling like—" Yujin's jaw clenched. "We have a show tomorrow."
"I'll be fine."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?" Wonyoung stepped closer, and Yujin could see the challenge building in her eyes. "That I went out? That I had a life for five seconds? That I did something our perfect leader wouldn't approve of?"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?" Another step. The hallway felt too narrow suddenly. "Stop pointing out that you've been standing here, waiting for me like some jealous—"
"I'm trying to protect the group."
Wonyoung laughed, low and bitter. "Right. The group." She swayed slightly, catching herself against the wall. "Is that what you tell yourself? When you're tracking my every move? When you watch me at every afterparty?"
"You're drunk."
"Not that drunk." Wonyoung's keycard found the slot on the third try. Her door clicked open but she didn't move. "Not drunk enough to miss how you've been looking at me all tour."
"Wonyoung—"
"Hong Kong. That dress I wore." She turned, backing into her doorway. "You couldn't stop staring. Manila, when I danced with that model. You broke your glass."
"That was—"
"Tonight." Wonyoung's voice dropped. "When I left with her. You followed us to the door."
Yujin's hands clenched. "Someone needs to make sure you're safe."
"Bullshit." The word hit like a slap. "You wanted to know what I was doing. Who I was doing it with."
"Go to bed. We'll discuss this in the morning."
"No." Wonyoung grabbed Yujin's wrist as she turned to leave. "We'll discuss it now."
The touch burned. Yujin yanked free. "You're out of line."
"Am I?" Wonyoung followed her down the hall. "Or are you just mad that I'm finally calling you on your shit?"
"My shit?" Yujin spun around. "You're the one stumbling back smelling like you fucked someone in a club bathroom."
"Maybe I did." Wonyoung's smile was sharp. "Maybe she had her hand up my dress in the VIP section. Maybe I let her. Maybe I was thinking about—"
Yujin pushed her against the wall. Not hard, but enough to stop the words. "Enough."
"Enough what?" Wonyoung's breath came faster. "Enough details about how she kissed my neck? How her hands felt? How I kept my eyes open the whole time because—"
"Shut up."
"Make me."
They stared at each other. The hallway's fluorescent lights hummed. Somewhere, a door slammed and muffled laughter echoed from another room.
"You don't want to hear it." Wonyoung's voice went soft, dangerous. "But you can't stop thinking about it. Can you?"
"You're being—"
"I know how you look at me." Wonyoung's hand came up, fingertips ghosting over Yujin's collar. "During rehearsals. When you correct my positioning. How your hands linger."
"That's not—" Yujin grabbed her wrist. "I don't—"
"Liar." Wonyoung twisted free, pressing closer. "All this time, unnie. All these years of watching you pretend I don't affect you."
"Wonyoung, stop."
"Seven years of you acting like I'm still that kid who—" Something flickered across her face before she smoothed it away. "But I'm not thirteen anymore."
"I never said—"
"You didn't have to." Wonyoung's other hand found Yujin's waist. "But things are different now."
The words hit somewhere deep. Some memory Yujin had buried. "That was—"
"Ancient history?" Her laugh was sharp. "Sure. Let's go with that."
"Wonyoung—"
"Tell me something." She pulled Yujin closer, lips brushing her ear. "When was the last time you got laid?"
Yujin couldn't breathe. The question was so blunt, so unlike their usual dynamic. "Why are you—"
"What? Asking uncomfortable questions?" Wonyoung's fingers tightened on her shirt. "Can't admit you want to fuck me? Can't stop staring at my ass during practice?"
"Stop."
"I see how you watch me." Her breath was hot, tequila-sweet. "How pissed you get when I leave with someone else. How you—"
Yujin grabbed her face, forcing distance. "You want me to admit it? Fine. I think about it. Happy?"
Wonyoung's eyes went wide.
"I think about you." The words ripped out, years of control crumbling. "Every fucking night. Every time you come back like this. Every time I smell someone else on you."
"Unnie—"
"But I can't." Yujin's hands shook. "We can't. The group—"
"Fuck the group." Wonyoung surged forward.
The kiss was violence. Seven years of something crashed together. Wonyoung made a sound – desperate, angry, victorious – as her fingers tangled in Yujin's hair.
They stumbled backward. Hit Wonyoung's door. Fell through.
"Wait—" Yujin tried to pull back.
"No." Wonyoung yanked her inside, kicking the door shut. "You've been eye-fucking me for weeks. Time to do something about it."
"We shouldn't—"
Wonyoung bit her lip, hard enough to hurt. "Shut up."
They crashed into furniture. A lamp fell. Wonyoung's back hit the wall and she laughed, wild and breathless, already pulling at Yujin's shirt.
"Fuck, I've wanted—" She cut herself off with another kiss, meaner this time. "Do you know how long—"
"Wonyoung—"
"Say it." Her nails scraped down Yujin's back. "Say you want me."
Yujin's control shattered. She lifted Wonyoung against the wall, feeling those legs wrap around her waist. "You know I do."
"Not good enough." Wonyoung rolled her hips, drawing a groan from Yujin. "Say it properly."
"I want you." The admission tore out. "Fuck, I want you so bad it's killing me."
"Better." Wonyoung's dress was already bunching up. "But not quite—"
Yujin carried her to the bed, dropping her on the mattress. "You want to hear it? Fine. I think about you constantly. When you dance. When you laugh. When you come back with someone else's mark on your neck and I want to—"
"Want to what?" Wonyoung was already pulling her down, grinding up against her thigh. "Tell me."
"I want to fuck you until you forget their names." Yujin's hands shoved Wonyoung's dress up, finding her soaked through her underwear. "Every single one."
Wonyoung arched beneath her. "Then do it."
"Oh fuck—" Wonyoung's nails dug crescents into Yujin's shoulders as two fingers curled inside her. "Right there, don't—"
The headboard knocked against the wall. Yujin pressed her face into Wonyoung's neck, tasting salt and someone else's perfume and hating how much it made her want to claim what was never hers.
"Look at me." Wonyoung's hand fisted in her hair, yanking hard. "I want you to—fuck—want you to see what you do to me."
Their eyes met. Wonyoung's makeup was destroyed, mascara tracking down her cheeks, lipstick smeared across her jaw. Her clit was swollen under Yujin's thumb, muscles clenching around her fingers
"Is this what you thought about?" She gasped as Yujin added a third finger. "When you were alone? When you—ah—fucked yourself thinking of me?"
"Yes."
"Louder."
"Yes." Yujin caught her throat, gentle pressure. "Fuck, yes. Thought about how wet you'd be. How you'd taste."
Wonyoung's laugh turned into a moan as Yujin's thumb pressed harder against her clit. "All those years of—shit—being so controlled. So perfect. But you wanted—"
"To fuck you." Yujin's control was gone, words spilling out. "Wanted to spread you open. Make you scream."
"Then fucking do it."
Later—the headboard had left marks on the wall, Wonyoung had screamed her name loud enough for the entire floor to hear, they'd collapsed in a tangle of sweat and spite and something too close to feeling—Wonyoung traced patterns on Yujin's ribs.
"So."
"Stop." Yujin stared at the ceiling. "Whatever you're going to say—"
"We're doing this again."
Not a question.
"We can't—"
"Yes, we can." Wonyoung sat up, shameless in her nudity. "Unless you're going to pretend you didn't just fuck me like you've been thinking about it for years."
"Wonyoung—"
"I'm not thirteen anymore." She watched as Yujin searched for her clothes. "I'm not some kid you can dismiss."
"I never—"
"Didn't you?" Her voice held something sharp, old. "Produce was a long time ago. Things change."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Yujin paused in pulling on her shirt. In the city lights from the window, Wonyoung looked older. Harder. "It means I know what I want now. And I usually get it."
"This is a bad idea."
"Probably." Wonyoung leaned back against the headboard. "But you'll do it anyway."
"You're wrong."
"Am I?" She watched Yujin move to the door. "We have Osaka next week. Singapore after that. Sydney. LA." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You really think you can go back to just watching?"
"This was a mistake."
"Maybe. But good mistakes. The kind you make again and again until someone gets hurt."
"Wonyoung—"
"Set an alarm. Call time's at nine."
Yujin left without another word. The door closed with a soft click.
Alone in the wreckage—sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, the room reeking of sex and bad decisions—Wonyoung's phone lit up as she typed.
you forgot your bra
Then: i'm keeping it
And finally: sweet dreams, leader-nim
Jakarta was supposed to be just another tour stop.
Instead, it became the city where Ahn Yujin learned that wanting something and knowing better were two different things. That seven years of professional boundaries could shatter over one drunken challenge. That sex could be a weapon when wielded by someone who knew exactly where to aim.
And that Jang Wonyoung had learned to play a very different game than the one Yujin thought they were playing.