Chapter Text
Yeri hummed along to her practice playlist on her phone, the melody weaving effortlessly through the soft hum of her curling wand heating up. She twisted a section of her hair between her fingers, eyeing her reflection with mild concentration. Tonight was important. It wasn’t a date—not officially—but it was something.
And she still couldn’t quite figure out why Kyung had wormed her way so deeply into her thoughts.
They weren’t exactly a match on paper. Kyung was stiff, awkward, and absurdly, painfully oblivious. The kind of person who would loiter in the dark like a cryptid just to hear someone play music in secret—then ruin the whole thing by muttering legal arguments to herself loud enough to be heard.
But Yeri didn’t mind.
She didn’t feel like a victim of Kyung’s very obvious interest. She felt endeared.
Every time Kyung tried—genuinely tried—to play an instrument, only to butcher it beyond recognition before giving up with a dramatic sigh, Yeri wanted to reach out and call her cute. Then, she wanted to make her try again. Because she was even cuter when she finally got the hang of something.
But- as endearing as she was- Kyung was absolutely dense.
How many hints did Yeri need to drop before Kyung actually did something?
Their arrangement was coming to an end sooner than Yeri would’ve liked. The gala was only hours away, and Kyung’s big law presentation—the one she had been agonizing over—was to take place during midterms, just a couple of weeks out. Soon, there’d be no more excuses to meet. No more scheduled “business meetings” that conveniently felt like dates. No more Kyung showing up to listen to her play, jaw clenched, hands fidgeting, always sitting just a little too far away.
Yeri sighed, about to curl another section of her hair when—
“Hey.”
She startled, nearly burning herself, whipping around to see Seulgi standing in the doorway. Her roommate looked oddly…nervous. What was up with that?
“I’m going to the aquarium tonight,” Seulgi said, shifting on her feet. “Don’t wait up.”
Yeri’s gaze flicked to Seulgi’s reflection in the mirror. No way.
“You’re going out? Don’t you have work?”
“I’m off tonight.”
Damn. Of course the one night Seulgi had off, both she and Kyung had plans. Another time, then. She was determined to make Seulgi and Kyung meet properly. And, if she was being honest, she wanted Kyung to stop hogging Jaeyi all to herself. What was the point of having friends if you couldn’t make them mutual? Yeri would never understand.
“Good for you,” she said, smirking slightly. She deserved a night off. And a trip to the aquarium, whatever that was code for.
“I won’t be home tonight, either,” Yeri continued, unplugging her curling wand, then fluffing her curls, facing Seulgi. “I have a thing.”
“A thing?”
Yeri turned to face her, crossing her arms. “Yeah, a thing.” She grinned. “I won’t ask about your thing if you don’t ask about mine.”
Seulgi let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head in defeat- or, perhaps- acceptance of the deal. She walked deeper into the apartment, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Yeri called back, waiting for the door to close before pulling her black concert dress out from the closet and stepping into it, struggling with the zipper for a few moments before finally finding success.
She looked at herself in the mirror, nodding.
She looked hot.
Yeri looked hot.
Kyung wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d asked about the dress code and got a casual “concert black” in response. She’d spent too long loitering in the formalwear section of a department store, fidgeting in the sleeves of her sweater under the sharp-eyed watch of a disapproving older saleswoman. She’d left with a simple dress, hoping that would be good enough.
But nothing had prepared her for what Yeri would choose to wear.
The musician stood in the doorway like she was meant to be framed there—like the apartment had been waiting for her. Her off-the-shoulder black dress clung and draped in all the right places, matte fabric catching the light just enough to define the curve of her waist, the shape of her collarbone. A single strand of pearls rested at the hollow of her throat, matched by tiny pearl earrings that glinted when she moved. Her hair was swept up, a few curled strands left to fall just so around her face, softening it with a kind of studied carelessness that could only be achieved through effort.
She looked radiant. Polished. Like the lead actress at opening night.
Kyung swallowed.
Her gaze swept downward—from the soft slope of Yeri’s bare shoulders to her polished fingernails, to the subtle shimmer of highlight catching her cheekbones. Yeri had always been beautiful. But tonight, standing there with quiet, unshakable confidence?
She was something else entirely.
Kyung dropped her eyes to her own outfit.
Ponyo pajamas. A fraying high school crewneck. Her breath caught in her throat, sharp and sour. She stuffed her hands into her sweater pocket and tried not to squirm.
What was a woman like Joo Yeri doing in her apartment?
“Are you going to let me in?”
Kyung jolted. “Right. Yeah. Of course.” She stepped back, heart hammering.
Yeri breezed in, twirling once in the center of the room before dropping her purse and makeup bag on the counter like she’d done this a hundred times. She gave the space a slow once-over—law books piled high, sci-fi paperbacks crammed under the TV, a lava lamp still quietly glowing in the corner.
“I can’t believe you haven’t had me over sooner,” she said, eyes twinkling. “This place is so you . I love it.”
Kyung shut the door, trying not to fidget. “You haven’t invited me over to your apartment either.”
“I have a roommate, remember?” Yeri replied easily, leaning back against the counter with a teasing smirk. “But I’ll let you know when she’s not home and we’ll do a movie night.”
“I thought you wanted me to meet her.”
“I do,” she said. Then paused. “But... Seulgi values her privacy.”
There was more there—Kyung could feel it. A truth unsaid. I value my privacy too. It hung between them, quiet and obvious.
Kyung didn’t push. She just nodded, a half-smile playing at her mouth.
Yeri clapped her hands. “Okay. Hair and makeup?”
Kyung gave a small, unsure nod. “Ready when you are.”
Yeri crossed to the bay window and sank into the cushions, legs crossed, makeup bag unzipped and ready. She patted the spot across from her. Even in her formal wear, painted with a full face of makeup, not a hair out of place- she was still Yeri. Her eyes still glistened, her lips still turned up at the corners in amusement when she looked at Kyung, and her presence was still magnetic.
Kyung hesitated, then joined her, breath leaving her when she sat down a little too hard.
Their knees brushed.
A spark ran up Kyung’s spine.
Outside, the city glimmered past the glass, distant and untouchable. But in here—in this little pool of warm light—Yeri was close. Close enough that Kyung could smell her perfume: soft vanilla, something warm and sweet and just a little dizzying.
“You look really nice,” Kyung murmured, the words slipping out before she could think better of them.
Yeri smiled, slow and unbothered. “Thank you,” she said gently, clearly pleased. “Mouth closed.”
Before Kyung could ask why, a sudden burst of mist hit her face.
She gagged. “What the—”
Yeri burst into giggles. “That’s why I said mouth closed. It’s primer.”
Kyung coughed, turning her face away. “Feels like I just got assaulted by a florist.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Yeri wiped at her cheek with a soft touch, then leaned in again. “Okay. Foundation next. Eyes and mouth closed. Please.”
Kyung obeyed, willing herself still.
Then Yeri’s fingers touched her jaw—cool, deliberate, soft.
Kyung tensed. Every part of her awareness tunneled down to the places where Yeri’s fingertips pressed—her cheek, her chin, her forehead. The soft breath Yeri exhaled as she concentrated drifted across her face, subtle but present.
Yeri worked quietly, smoothing the product into her skin with practiced ease.
Kyung kept her eyes shut, but every second felt a little more unbearable. It was so quiet. So intimate .
She flinched when the brush tickled her nose, pulling back just a hair, trying- and failing- to contain the sneeze that forced way out. She covered her face with her elbow, then glanced up at Yeri. "...Sorry."
Yeri laughed, soft and fond. “That’s okay. We’re done with powder anyway.”
There was a pause as she dug through her bag, then pulled out something long and cylindrical, twisting the top. Kyung recognized that one. Before the horror of what was about to happen, Yeri had it poised at her lips.
“Pucker up.”
She hesitated, her lips parting slightly—but the moment Yeri leaned in, she instinctively leaned back.
Yeri didn’t miss a beat. She reached out, fingers catching Kyung’s chin. Her grip was light but firm, her touch warm.
“Stop moving.”
The words were quiet. Almost a whisper.
Kyung froze, breath hitching.
Yeri painted her lips with slow, careful strokes, steady-handed, her face so close Kyung could feel the warmth of her cheek, could see the slight furrow in her brow as she focused. Her tongue peeked out just slightly as she worked.
Kyung didn’t dare breathe.
And then—too soon—Yeri pulled back, smacking her own lips in silent demonstration, then grinning when Kyung followed suit. She surveyed her work with open satisfaction. “Perfect.”
Kyung blinked. Her lips felt strange. Heavy. Pretty. “Can I see?”
“Not yet,” Yeri replied, digging through her bag again. “We need to do your eyes next. Then, you can look.”
Yeri glanced up, holding eyeliner between her fingers. "Ready?"
"Ready," Kyung confirmed, though the tightness in her chest told her that she was anything but. Yeri leaned forward, not grabbing her face this time, but instead focusing on anchoring her hand with her pinky finger resting on Kyung's cheek, the other tracing lines around her eyes. She was staring at the tip of the eyeliner, not directly at Kyung, but still-
Something in the air shifted.
Kyung looked straight at her, not daring to flinch and ruin the work, not daring to end the moment. Yeri was closer than she'd ever been. Kyung was enchanted.
But then Yeri blinked, looked away, and the moment scattered like dust.
“My work here is done,” she said, cheerfully.
She held up a small mirror, and Kyung stared at the woman within it. It was her, of course- that much she could recognize. But she was more mature, more beautiful, more...well- she was hot,
"You're a magician."
“I'm not,” Yeri denied. "You're already hot; I just accentuated your features." Then, softer yet. “I could teach you, if you want.”
“You'd do that?”
Yeri tilted her head. “Sure. If you’re interested. But, you know—I also think the whole ‘makeup equals beauty’ thing is outdated and deeply rooted in capitalist misogyny, so if you prefer going bare-faced, just know-” her voice lowered to almost a whisper- no, a purr. "You're really pulling it off."
Kyung laughed—quiet, breathy. “Right.”
Yeri clapped her hands over her eyes to give Kyung privacy, then faced the wall. “Okay! Now put the dress on. I want to see!”
Kyung hesitated, then stood, turning her back.
After casting a final glance at Yeri to make sure her eyes were covered- and, really, just to look at her again- she peeled off her pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them on the bed to wear later that night. Then, she walked to her closet, pulling the dress off of the hanger and onto her body, adjusting the fabric at her waist, smoothing it over her hips. She added a bracelet she'd been gifted from her mother, then a necklace she had kept at the bottom of an old jewelry box for ages.
Her fingers were trembling slightly.
"Kyung, the suspense is killing me,” Yeri complained.
“You’re impatient,” Kyung muttered. Then: “Okay. Open.”
Yeri dropped her hands.
Her mouth fell open. “Oh my god .”
Kyung shifted her weight, self-conscious. “Is that a good oh my god?”
Yeri stared, standing and coming around her to help her zip of the back of the dress, one hand bracing at the small of her back, just over her buttocks. Kyung stiffened, but in an instant, the dress was zipped, and Yeri was gone. “You look like a Disney princess. Kyung— we are going to look so hot tonight.”
Kyung flushed and glanced at the clock. "Well we can't impress if we're late. You have to get ready to perform." She grabbed her coat and Yeri's purse, carrying them both over her arm. "We should've left five minutes ago."
"You can't rush perfection," Yeri chastized slightly, though she did grab her keys and link arms with Kyung, heeding her warning about the clock. "Thank you again."
Kyung's brow furrowed.
"For agreeing to go on this not-date with me."