Chapter Text
Yoonchae finds herself in a predicament.
In the next few days, she has a date with some boy she had met a week ago. She barely knows who, or why she had even said yes to the guy, and it’s stressing her out. Bad.
She hears he’s the son of a big shot back in Korea — but Yoonchae can’t bring herself to care. To her, the people that matter are the ones she’s closest to, and it being her family doesn’t help and justifies her lack of care. But then again, her band mates are her closest friends, so who gets a say?
Sighing, she still doesn’t want to mess up at the date. Sure, she can cancel it any moment, but she needs a distraction. A distraction from Megan. The girl isn’t being off, per se, it’s Yoonchae being the off one.
It’s hard enough that they’re alone in the shared-house together, and Yoonchae’s jaw clenches. Megan looks up at her, her gaze previously focused on her phone, her legs resting on Yoonchae’s lap, her head on the armrest of the couch and most importantly — more so to the Korean — she’s lying on Yoonchae. “You good, Yoonchip?” She asks, flashing a small smile when the girl nods in response.
God— Yoonchae wants to commit that smile as a forever, a permanent bliss in her head; to sear it into her memory and bask in the warmth the girl exudes. To see that expression every time she even spares a glance at Megan. To have Megan realise how special she is to Yoonchae.
She’s not in love though. Conflicted is a better word.
Megan’s just her best friend — nothing more and nothing less. In recent times, they’ve been hanging out together with a newfound connection. They’re closer, more touchy and affectionate. It rattles Yoonchae.
She doesn’t find it annoying or anything; it’s almost the opposite. It’s sickening. How sickening, how light and free Megan makes her feel. She barely shows it often, though. Bickering, bantering, and playful teasing just came so much more easily to the two of them. Huffing, Yoonchae flicks the flat of Megan’s forehead.
“Hey! I wasn’t even doing anything,” Yoonchae tries to hide a smirk before flicking her again, “If swear— if you do that again, I’m gonna bite you.”
“I’ll bite back.”
“What are you, my dog?”
“No… What does that— What?”
“Yeah sure, okay buster.”
Yoonchae looks off to the side, as if she’s debating something. Her hand comes up to Megan’s head, and she flicks it again, albeit it’s so soft it feels akin to a light tap.
Megan laughs, sits up and puts her phone down to take hold of Yoonchae’s hand, intertwining their fingers and brings her forearm up to her mouth, pretending to gnaw on it.
The Korean isn’t focusing on Megan’s distraction at all.
She’s more taken in by the way her and Megan’s fingers slot together like puzzle pieces. Like they’re meant to be.
What? Yoonchae slaps herself internally for thinking that — of course they’re not meant to be, they’re just friends. Best friends. And Yoonchae has a date anyway; she’d forgotten that was why she had decided to see Megan. She needs a run-through: someone to practise the notion of having a real date with. Real practice with someone who’s been on a date before.
Well, Yoonchae doesn’t know exactly if Megan’s ever been on one, but seeing the girl like this makes her think she’s been on many. For sure. There’s no way she hasn’t, Megan’s perfect. In the younger one’s eyes, she’s ethereal.
Still just a best friend though. Totally platonic.
“Yoonch? Hey, 1, 2, 3, eyes on me. Girl… if you’re spacing out on me again,” Megan whines, drawing out the ‘again’, and turning away from the Korean. What she doesn’t expect from her is Yoonchae not having a reaction whatsoever. Now her tone’s more serious, yet still light enough to be comforting, “You okay?”
Finally Yoonchae snaps out of it, eyes locking onto Megan’s features before saying, “Sorry— I was… thinking.” Before Megan can ask about what, Yoonchae continues, “I forgot I came here to tell you I’m going on a date.”
Megan freezes.
“It’s, like, with some guy, he’s kind of famous back home, I think,” Yoonchae coughs, rushing through her words as if she doesn’t want to say them. “I just… wanted to see how a date goes… with you. For practise.”
She mumbles the last half, but Megan hears it fine. There’s a hidden shame, a guilt, a weird tightness in the way Yoonchae says it. It’s layered behind the murmuring, just barely noticeable. Maybe she subconsciously listens more attentively with Yoonchae, like if she had failed to hear a word, she’d be missing out on the grace the girl was giving, or… maybe not?
“Like, you probably went on a date before, so…” she trails off, almost shy, like she’s run out of words to say. “…Megan?”
It’s strange. Yoonchae’s sweating, nervous and her hands are clammy at the lack of response. It isn’t even a big deal, she doesn’t know why she’s acting like this. She feels worse when the corners of Megan’s mouth twitch upwards.
A stifled giggle comes out of the girl, and she reaches over to the hard of Yoonchae’s shoulder. “You— You look like you’re about to pass out. It’s okay, I’m not judging or anything,” she says, her tone dulcet, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s kinda cute.”
Yoonchae doesn’t know why her neck burns at the offhand comment; doesn’t know why the hand at her shoulder makes her freeze up, and doesn’t know why it’s making her feel so alive.
She tries to deflect it, “Okay. I’m not going to practise with you, then,” and Megan giggles again, the sound effortlessly making Yoonchae’s face redder, the previous words seemingly losing meaning, and she can’t look straight at Megan. Her hand passes Yoonchae’s face and she tucks stray strands of silky hair out of the girl’s eyes. It stays there for a moment, a moment almost too long, and it slips away as soon as it means something.
“So… you’d rather asking your other unnies to roleplay with you? Yoonchip, I’d love to roleplay with you,” the pink-haired girl teases with mirth, wiggling her eyebrows, and Yoonchae’s already so flushed, and a mess, and Megan can’t seem to figure out why. She’s surprised, yes, that the younger girl has a date, and is asking her for help.
“Do you want to help me or not…” Yoonchae manages to mutter; she’s confused, frustrated and oh so timid at the teasing, and she looks straight out of a novel. Weirdly endearing when she’s flustered like this, that’s what Megan thinks.
A beat passes. Tentative is what Yoonchae would describe the expression Megan’s wearing; she’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “All things aside, yeah, I’ll help.”
She hums, and says, “I’m not that good at this, though,” Megan looks to the wall before leaning closer and whispering near the shell of Yoonchae’s ear, “I’ve only been on, what, two dates before?”
And the Korean’s surprise is plastered all over her face; when Megan returns back to her original position, she can see the shock of it wash over her. She smiles sheepishly, Yoonchae either thought she had no game, or an insane amount. It’s probably the former.
“What? I thought you… were like, good?”
The fuses in Megan’s brain spark, but fail to ignite, and she lets her disbelief paint her features. Seriously? Yoonchae thinks that Megan’s been on tons of dates. Hell, Megan’s single right now! “Yoonchip, I’m single— I’ve gone on two dates, kissed a girl, and a guy, and that’s like it,” she confesses, and she watches Yoonchae burn a darker red.
Now anyone can tell the girl’s embarrassed.
“I’ll still try, I promise I’ll be a good practice partner,” Megan blurts out, hands waving in front of her, convinced Yoonchae doesn’t want her help anymore.
Yoonchae pauses and huffs, her accent swaddling her tone, “…I wanted to practise with just you, it doesn’t matter you went on two only,” she attempts hiding her embarrassment with sharp words, but Megan knows better. She knows Yoonchae wants to practice with just her. Her stomach does a 360 at the thought.
The girl juts her bottom lip out slightly, thinking for what to say next. “Any ideas where he’s taking you out? Gotta set the stage,” Megan starts. Yoonchae’s lips part, finding words for her situation. All Megan can think about are the soft, pink lips that belong to Yoonchae. Her eyes drift to them, but when the girl begins to speak, they dash back up to her eyes.
“He said he was taking me to a restaurant,” Yoonchae answers, she barely has any emotion in her statement-- like the idea bores her.
Megan agrees mostly, restaurant first dates are so tacky. She rolls her eyes, “Restaurant? For a first date? It’s so basic, I might throw up,” she pretend-gags at the end to make her point. A small laugh comes out Yoonchae, and her shoulders relax. “Guys like that are so boring. Trust me,” Megan shudders, fake-quivering at the thought.
“Name? What’s he work as, or like, anything personal?” Megan inquires, trying to get more information. Yoonchae’s lips purse as if she’s being interrogated.
She hums before answering, “His name is…Jin-Hyuk? Something like that,” and her face slopes into a grimace, as if even uttering his name feels like a sin. “He’s kinda tall, um… and I was told he is a producer, and sometimes does acting for.. fun. He’s around my age too, don’t worry.”
Nodding like she’s been enlightened, Megan poises her hand to her chin, rubbing it like she’s a wise old man. The Korean simpers and imitates the notion, the two looking like they’re both going crazy. Megan notices, and stops with a faux upset look, “Hey… doing that helps me think!”
Just laughing together, doing stupid shit, joking around makes Yoonchae happy. Really happy. Her chest puffs up and she bursts out, her whole body shaking, “You’re like— an old man!” A smile tugs at her lips, and Megan’s rolling her eyes, watching the younger girl in amusement.
That’s when Megan thinks, Yoonchae’s really pretty when she laughs.
She shakes her head, of course she’s pretty when she laughs, she’s pretty in general. But the way Yoonchae laughs, unguarded, vulnerable, a fleeting, sweet moment to be cherished, makes Megan think she’s stunning.
Yoonchae snickers, breathless and red, but she notices Megan’s watchful eyes. Her laugh slows, and they stare each other down like it’s some sort of duel. It’s an odd silence, too, looking as though they’ve just caught the other in an act.
Coughing, Megan looks away first, “So… wanna start practising?”
The thought registers as plain as day on Yoonchae’s face, and she nods, a little too eager for her own liking, and skittishly smiles. It’s somehow a good look on her, Megan wants to say, but the words are lodged in her throat.
Instead, she rambles, “Ah… Is he driving you there? Or should I drive you there, like, genuinely,” the pink-haired girl questions, a part of her wanting Yoonchae to say the latter. Something pulls at Megan’s heart. Is it jealousy, envy, bitterness of something Megan can’t describe? She doesn’t want her going with some guy, taking her out for dinner. But it’s not like she controls Yoonchae, she’s not covetous, so she doesn’t speak her mind. Being possessive isn’t really her thing, but when it comes to Yoonchae…
Tilting her head forward ever so slightly, Yoonchae fiddles with her fingers, “I don’t know, but I would rather you drive me. Even though your driving is—“
“Good, right? Yeah, I know,” Megan chirps, finishing her sentence, “We’re like, so connected that I knew what you were gonna say.” At the words, Yoonchae scoffs, shakes her head and flicks the flat of Megan’s forehead once more, an indescribable expression flickering on her face.
Megan speaks under her breath, “So no awkward car journey, skip that…” and Yoonchae doesn’t hear the rest.
The two were now sitting on the floor, criss-cross-applesauce facing each other.
“Okay, I’ll drive you over, and you meet at the entrance of the place with him— or something,” Megan explains, using elaborate hand motions. The Korean bobs her head along, somehow following each wave and nudge.
“And then you’ll go in together, get seated, and have your orders taken,” Megan draws a breath, “Oh, he’ll also do some small talk; most of the time it’s not even worth listening to. But if you wanna listen, then go ahead? I wouldn’t know why you would want to do that, not gonna lie.”
“Wait. You talk too fast,” Yoonchae splutters, trying to keep up with how fast Megan was talking. The girl blurts an apology, “Sorry, sorry, just wanna help, y’know? Maknae needs help,” she impersonates Yoonchae and her tone, even smirking, swaying backwards and tilting her shoulders.
Yoonchae groans, her cheeks pink at the reference, “Shut up…”
“But I’m your favourite unnie, no?”
“…”
“Tough crowd, Yoonch. Tough crowd.”
She raises a brow, but doesn’t say anything back. Instead, Yoonchae props her elbows on her thighs and cradles her head in her hands. Then she stays put, watching Megan’s features intently, “Just… continue. Please.”
Yoonchae doesn’t say that she’s observing each gesture, each tip and camber of the other girl’s shoulders. A smile lingers on her face, faint words ricocheting off of her ears. Megan’s so animated when she talks, it feels like Yoonchae’s being pulled in, captivated by her mannerisms, and—
“Are you even listening? You’re the one who asked for my help,” Megan carps, reasonably miffed at Yoonchae. She isn’t actually bothered, but she plays into it, pouting at Yoonchae.
The girl blinks.
“Oh. Yeah, sorry,” Yoonchae replies, curt and apologetic in the same cadence, “Repeat?” Guiltily, her focus places itself back on Megan now. Not her face — though she’d never admit that — but on her words this time.
Megan sulks, “You gotta listen this time though, okay?”
Nodding, Yoonchae licks her lips and sees Megan’s eyes flit down quickly before deviating back up. It’s probably nothing, she reasons. Megan lists off what’s most likely going to happen, like topics he’ll talk about, the awkward silence when eating, and a potential kiss. When she mentions it, Yoonchae stiffens.
“He’s gonna kiss me?” She says, not even trying to hide her disgust, looking at Megan with eyes that scream: “I do not want that.”
A smirk appears on Megan’s face and she tries to conceal an oncoming laugh. “No, no, he won’t— he probably won’t,” she chuckles, shrugging like it doesn’t mean anything.
But it means a lot to Yoonchae.
“What if he does? I haven’t… kissed anyone before, I don’t want it to be a random guy,” Yoonchae leans back, clearly complaining about it. Kissing a guy she’s just met seems a little too out of her comfort zone.
“Not like a lip-on-lip type action, most guys aren’t that bold. It’s probably gonna be like a peck on the cheek if anything,” the other girl muses, the realisation of Yoonchae’s first kiss not having set in her mind just yet. “He’ll be like this, or something,” she adds, veering herself towards Yoonchae and mimicking a small peck on the cheek. Her lips don’t meet skin, but a little something in the Korean wishes that they did. Megan doesn’t notice the tinge of red blooming on Yoonchae’s ears.
Pushing herself back to her original position, Megan shuffles a bit and finally lets the thought sink in, “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?” And she’s not judging, of course, she’s not that mean, but she’s puzzled that the girl hasn’t had her first.
Yoonchae nods, absentmindedly brushing her hand through her dark hair, shy now that it’s been mentioned. It’s not a big deal, right? A lot of people haven’t had their first kiss at her age too, she’s not some weirdo.
Before Megan can say anything more, Yoonchae interjects, “Can— Can you teach me? Or like, get me used to… you know,” eyes averting Megan’s. In theory, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was just unexpected. Unexpected coming from Yoonchae. Especially towards Megan.
And she starts to regret ever speaking, ever even thinking, or ever stupidly suggesting the idea when she peers at Megan, gaze trailing elsewhere when their eyes meet. “Never mind, you don’t— you don’t have to like, do that,” she stammers, her face a bright red.
She doesn’t realise Megan is also blushing, she’s far too busy avoiding her regard.
A tension looms over them.
“Wait— wait, no, it’s fine,” the pink-haired girl grins awkwardly. “I don’t mind. If you wanna do that, um. With me.”
Yoonchae has to swallow before attempting to get the words out, “I want to,” before Megan says, “Are you sure?”
The Korean hesitates, and finally nods, “For the date.” Megan, after a beat, parrots back, “Yeah. For the date.”
But the question lingers in both their heads, is that really what they want?
Megan's hands sneak closer to Yoonchae's frame, positioning themselves at her jaw, and she adjusts herself right in front of Yoonchae, craning her neck upwards to meet the girl in the middle. They're so near to each other, at that point the Korean can feel the ghost of Megan's breath on her lips. Her heart drums in her chest, and she's convinced herself it's just the proximity that's making her this nervous. Instinctively, her eyes flutter closed, and she's thankful she does: she doesn't know if she can handle seeing Megan so up close and personal.
She doesn't bother to even think about the next few seconds, because she feels the timorous contact of Megan's lips on her own, and she forces her hands to remain still.
It's like the world has stopped, leaving Megan and Yoonchae in its wake, aware of the charged atmosphere, the lit sparks, and the line between 'practice' and 'desire' blurring.
The slow, diffident clash of skin on skin makes Yoonchae's mind go blank. Her lips move on their own. It hasn't even been a second, but it feels as if electricity jolts beneath her skin and makes her body go taut. But the feeling rushes out the way it surged in, Megan bolting back once she thinks it's enough. To Yoonchae it's not.
They stare, red-faced and flushed, both too awkward to speak up.
"Was... Was that okay?" Yoonchae looks down, breaking the silence. She's nervous again, the passing instant replaying again and again, heart racing and she swears it can be heard audibly. Taking a tentative look at Megan, she sees her in the same fashion, all shy and flustered.
"...For your first kiss ever? Holy shit, yeah," the girl breathes, "It felt good. Or something. Kinda felt like how the fanfics describe it."
Yoonchae deadpans, "You read those? And how old are you?"
Megan pinches the soft of her arm, and sticks her tongue out, "You seriously just kissed me, and now you're being mean to me. I see how it is, Chip." She shuffles back, crossing her arms and snapping her eyes shut.
"I'm just-- Giving you medicine. A taste of your own medicine," the Korean murmurs, using the phrase Lara had taught her.
Chuckling, Megan rolls her eyes, aware of the attempt on the new phrase, "Typical, being difficult," she sighs playfully, "Guess that's it from me, no more help, then."
Yoonchae grins, "I know what to do now, I don't need your help anymore," and Megan ruffles her hair, coaxing a whiny, 'Hey..,' from the Korean.
Megan stands and flops back onto the cushioning of the couch, watching Yoonchae fix her hair, even though she looks perfect nonetheless. She remembers the others will be back soon, so she reminds Yoonchae about it.
And now they're normal, behaving like they were prior to the kiss. Yet the moment refuses to slip out their heads like it has a purpose to make them wonder. To make them explore their feelings. But they leave it, because it won't just be them together for a while.
Yoonchae's date is coming.