Not Exactly Ideal (oneshot)

[qiguai]

Title: Not Exactly Ideal
Pairing Jieun/Yonggook
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4297
Warnings: language
Summary: Jieun doesn't want a prince or a knight in shining armor.
Notes: For unniefic's valentines/white day challenge. Prompt is "love in unlikely places," and Yonggook isn't your standard Romeo. ;) I know he hasn't debuted yet, but I thought I'd give this a shot anyway because this pairing has amazing potential. ♥

At first he's the slouching boy she sees now and then walking the opposite way in the hall. Always with his hood pulled tight around his face, all she can see is a wide mouth set in a permanent frown. When she asks, all her trainers can tell her is that he's a relatively new trainee, that they haven't met him because he isn't a vocalist, and that he doesn't seem all too happy about being here. Judging from the way he shoves through the doors one night, headphones jammed over his heads and hood and almost running into Jieun who happens to also be leaving early, she can't help but agree. "A young rapper?" Hana asks, cocking her head. "There are a few. I don't really pay attention to them during lessons, though." Biting her lip, Jieun nods and returns her attention to the mirror. Her shining gold dress is too bright for her tired eyes, so she closes them. A little rest before a shoot never hurts. "Why do you ask?" Hana continues. Jieun can hear the familiar mix of curiosity and knowing amusement in her friend's voice. "I always see him when I'm leaving at night. He doesn't seem happy. I'm just curious." She frowns and blinks her eyes open as one of the stylists starts applying more blush to her cheekbones. Hana claps her hands and gives a loud, "Ah!" With a smile, she turns to Jieun and says in a low, ominous voice, "I know exactly who you're talking about." "Bang Yonggook." Her manager steps forward with the boy hovering behind. When Jieun peers around to get a better look, he takes a few hesitant steps froward, and, with a quick bow, says, "I look forward to working with you, sunbae. Please take care of me." His voice is low and gravely, but his tone is even and perfect, as if he knows exactly how to use his voice. In her seat, she bows back, and is embarrassed by her cute little buns, her short sailor-style dress and her bright pink lipstick. The way Yonggook looks at her, with his strong, handsome features and narrow eyes that seem to glare at her, scrutinizing. Now that she sees him, hood finally down, she doesn't think he looks unhappy. She thinks he looks angry, and her face flushes with a bit of panic. Then, just as she's about to look down to hide the embarrassed tears in her eyes, he shoves his hands into his sweatshirt front pocket and grins, his full lips stretching into an impossibly wide, laughing smile, and Jieun feels like she loses something to that smile. "Are you okay, sunbae?" And later she will how she could ever have been afraid him. After a week of scattered practice sessions, Yonggook drops "sunbae" and replaces it with a playful "Jieun-ah," always sung like a child, if a child could have such a deep voice. The familiarity is foreign, but it eases her fear while worsening her general unease. He smiles easily and speaks easily and she can't keep up. "Shy Boy" promotions are well underway, though, so she doesn't have much time to spend with him. They receive their sheet music and lyrics separately, which is a pleasant distraction, that is until they arrive at the recording studio. Yonggook lounges on the couch while she hurries into the booth. Even with the glass, the producers and the headphones separating them, she can feel him paying attention. "Let's take a break," the producer says with a sigh after several unsuccessful attempts. Blushing furiously, Jieun bows and pulls off the headphones. When she exits the booth, Yonggook slides over and offers a water bottle. Exhaustion and frustration outweigh her irrational nerves, so she accepts both the drink and the seat. Yonggook hums to himself, tuneless but better than awkward silence, and purposely looks away from her until she wipes her wet eyes. "Do you mind," he begins, glancing at her with unsure eyes, "if I say something?" Jieun shakes her head but stares at her hands. "You're not angry enough," he says and laughs. "Which is fine, you don't seem to be an angry kind of person." He rubs his face. "But this song is about being really fucking pissed off." A pause. "Ah, sorry for cussing," he adds. "I don't understand the song at all," she mumbles. From the second she'd glanced over the lyrics, it's true, she hadn't been able to grasp the concept. "If you're unhappy, why not just break up?" "Haven't you ever had an obsessive boyfriend?" he asks innocently. "You know, the kind who calls you all the time, follows you, and when you want to break up refuses to let you go?" Jieun purses her lips and looks away. No matter how hard she tries, she can't will the producers back into the room with her gaze. A bark of a laugh erupts behind her. "Wait, you've dated before, right?" Her silence earns another laugh, followed by a light pat on the head, the kind given to a child, or a sister, or even a pet. The glare she shoots Yonggook out of the corner of her eye goes unnoticed. "How about this," he says slowly, craning his neck to get her attention. Reluctantly she meets his gaze, but with the best feigned disinterest she can muster. Again, he doesn't notice. "Imagine I'm some creepy guy who follows you around, and all you want is for me to leave you alone, so much that you'd even kill me." She arches an eyebrow and mumbles to herself, "Shouldn't be too hard." His happy little eyes widen a bit. "What?" "Nothing," she sighs, leaning back against the couch as the producers come back into the room, so he just pets her again, smiling proudly. As much as she knows he's trying to be comforting, she enters the recording booth fuming. He's still grinning at her through the glass when she puts the headphones back on, grinning like he knows everything she doesn't. I'll show you. Yonggook insists on walking out together. He's full of congratulations and compliments about the recording session, but she buries her face in her scarf and receives it all silently. Jieun keeps her arms tight at her sides and her hands shoved in her coat pockets, and he waves his arms around wildly and laughs at the black sky. "You know, I really don't get you," he says after his fiftieth attempt to get her to speak. She pulls her scarf over her nose and shrugs. Maybe it's better that way. They approach a crosswalk and he grumbles something she can't hear through her scarf. "Walk home safely," he says and turns sharply, heading in the opposite direction Jieun needs to go. Her mouth opens, but she can't find anything to say to call him back. Huffing, she presses the crosswalk button and stomps her feet from the cold. A startled, familiar cry sends her whirling back around. Down the sidewalk she watches as a group of men surround Yonggook and start shoving him. From where she stands, she can't see his face, but he raises his hands and shakes his head, as always hidden within his hood. Her limbs are frozen in fear, but she forces herself to move forward when one of the figures grabs Yonggook's arm and drags him down. She starts running and arrives in time to see a small, thin man grab Yonggook in a headlock. In the dim street lights, she sees scrawling tattoos on the attacker's forearms and she gulps. It takes all of her courage to scream at the top of her lungs, "Get off of him!" The entire group stills, including Yonggook. The tattooed man turns around, Yonggook still locked in his arms, and regards Jieun through dark sunglasses. His hair is dark and hangs limply in his face and his mouth is small and set in a surprised "o." "Who are you?" he asks, perfectly calm. Before she can answer, he glances at the man in his arms. "Is this your girlfriend?" "Hyung," Yonggook groans, rolling his eyes. The small man lets Yongook go and, ignoring Yongook's attempts to interrupt, walks up to Jieun and extends his hand. "If you ever need someone to beat up this loser, let me know," he says. "My name is Yohwan." Ten minutes later, they're all gathered in a small coffee shop down the street. The young boy behind the counter gapes at the group of men decked out in tattoos, sunglasses, heavy jackets and sweatshirts and grunting a curse every second word. Jieun settles down in the middle of the all, seated between Yongook and the man who calls himself Yohwan. A short man with a happy smile and glasses hops up to order drinks for everyone, while a tall, older looking man sits calmly with a lit cigarette between his lips and regards Jieun silently. There are a few others seated around them, but these two and Yohwan appear to be the more talkative. "Sorry if we scared you," the man with the cigarette says. He smiles and Jieun is surprised by its sincerity. She bows her head in reply. Soon the man with glasses returns, and chaos ensues as everyone tries to claim their rightful drink order. While everyone else sips their coffee, Yohwan speaks to Jieun in a low voice, "We're Jepp's old friends. The kid hasn't been coming around much lately, so we thought we'd drop in on him." "Literally!" the man with glasses adds. Yonggook glares at him, and Jieun swears he's pouting. "Who's Jepp?" she asks quietly. "You don't know?" Yohwan replies with obvious shock. He leans forward to glare at Yonggook. "Are you ashamed of us or something?" Not waiting for an answer, he regards Jieun with a proud smile and continues, "Jepp is that idiot's name in our crew. We're called Soul Connection. You probably haven't heard of us, though." "Ah!" she says with a smile. "Hana told me about it, actually." "You asked Hana about me?" Yonggook asks with a surprised smile. He nudges her side but she shies away. The pleased look in his eyes does not go unnoticed, as his friends immediately start making jabs and cheering. The man with the cigarette, she learns, is Maslo, and the man in the glasses is CSP. They tell her their real names, but with pleading insistence ask her to use their stage names. "It's so rare we have a cute female idol say our names," CSP says. "You should call me CSP oppa." Yonggook makes to hit him, but Yohwan, stage name Still PM but he says she can use whichever name she likes, catches his arm. "Be good," he scolds. Jieun gives Yonggook a sly look and says, sugary sweet, "Thank you, CSP oppa." "Ah, that sounds so nice!" CSP cries and clutches his heart through his t-shirt. His joy makes Jieun blush, but she can't help but laugh. Yohwan swings an arm comfortably around her shoulders, much to Yonggook's obvious displeasure, but Yohwan smacks away his friend's hands easily. "The offer to beat him up still stands, by the way," he says with a smirk before letting her go. She glances over at Yonggook, almost red he's so upset, and smiles to herself. Maybe she should take Yohwan up on his offer. After giving her number to all of Yonggook's friends, she bids them goodbye outside the coffee shop. Yonggook lags behind the group, looking at his shoes. "You didn't have to give them your number," he mutters. She shoves her phone back into her bag. "They're really nice. I didn't mind." He glances up at her and she smiles. A look akin to panic flashes across his features and he looks away, and there's something endearing about it. "You should give me your number, too," he says with forced confidence. "We're working together, you know. It's not right to just give it out to people you don't know, but not me who's known you for months now." With a light chuckle, she retrieves her phone and they exchange numbers. The noticeable brightness in his grin and bounce in his step when he finally turns to go make her light-headed. The sting of bleach in her nose, Jieun steps out of the salon and almost runs smack into the chest of a man entering. She glances up and vaguely recognizes the face, which lights up and he bows quickly in apology. He turns out to be one of the rookie managers, and judging by the anxious way he glances into the salon, he's in a hurry. "If you have something to do, please go ahead," Jieun insists. The man smiles and nods, but before entering the building calls back to her, "I'm actually here with Yonggook. Didn't you see him? Don't you want to see him?" She wants to argue that there isn't any reason she should want to see him, but that would be unprofessional and illogical, so she swallows the shaking in her voice and follows him back inside. Yonggook is sitting on the other side of the salon, a towel wrapped messily around his head. He hardly even blinks when Jieun appears in the mirror before him. "Ah, you're here, too?" "The music video shoot starts tomorrow," she says in a noncommittal voice. He nods and, for a few seconds that stretch on for forever, he just stares. Gulping, Jieun pretends to be fascinated by the hair products lined up on the table beside him, though she can't even read their names. It's been over a week since recording ended, and they haven't seen each other since. To be honest, she doesn't know whether she should feel closer to him or more unsure after that strange gathering at the coffee shop. Then his eyes happen upon the thick ski cap around her head, and that familiar grin spreads across his face, ear to ear. "You're all done?" he asks with obvious amusement. "Let's see it, then." With some reluctance she yanks off the cap, damp blue strands falling into her face. In the mirror Yonggook's eyes widen and his grin falters a fraction. "You look like a mermaid." She flushes and pulls the cap back on, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror. Just as she's about to make herself thank him, he adds, "I think I even see some seaweed in there." "Oh yeah, what about you?" she retorts before she can stop herself. A haughty look in his eyes, he gently touches the towel around his head and smirks. "They're making me look like an idol." She almost chokes laughing. "What kind of boys do you like, unnie?" Hyosung yawns and stretches in the back of the van. Sunhwa is out cold next to her in the seat, her head lolling to the side and mouth hanging open. "Guys who will make me breakfast in the morning. And who will let me sleep on them." With that, she closes her eyes to drift back off, but Jieun prods her. "Unnie, come on," she whines quietly. Hyosung's lips smack in another yawn, but her eyes are still open. "Do you like pretty boys?" "They're nice," Hyosung replies dreamily. "But it's kind of funny when I can tell that a guy has on more make-up than I do." Hana giggles in the seat next to Jieun, who is turned all the way around to talk to Hyosung. The date for their goodbye stage is set, tomorrow Jieun films her own music video, but all she can think about is the way she can't control her mouth when she's around a certain annoying rapper. "So you like male idols then?" "I guess," Hyosung says with a shrug. "We're around them all the time. They're nice people." Jieun bites her lip. "What do you think about boys with lots of tattoos? And boys who smoke?" One eye cracks open, then another, and Hyosung looks up at the ceiling as if mulling it over. "I'm sure they're nice people, too," she concludes. "Unnie, you're no help," Jieun says, but Hyosung is already curled back up in her seat. With a huff, Jieun looks to Hana. "Don't even think about it," her friends warns her. "I am not getting involved in this." "Why are rappers so cool?" she asks, her bottom lip jutting out in a way she knows Hana can't resist. Hana rolls her eyes and folds her arms in her jacket. "What do you mean?" "I've never noticed it, but rappers have this... charisma. All of you. You're all so charismatic." She turns back around and sighs. "And I'm not." "Not at all," Hana agrees. "Thanks a lot," she mutters. An arm slings around her shoulder and Hana smiles. "Don't worry, Jieun, rappers have hearts, too." A small spread of food sits tantalizingly on a small table near the side of the set. On her way to the dressing room, Jieun eyes the stacks of sandwiches with lusty eyes, but a stylist pushes her gently toward the room, and she bids the beautiful table a bitter farewell. "Don't worry," the stylist says kindly. "We'll be done soon." Jieun blushes and nods, ashamed for being so obvious. Through the ajar door Yonggook's booming, grating voice echoes from the speakers on-set. The mix of his deep, threatening voice and the words of his rap send a shiver down her spine, and for once she calls up the image of his goofy grin willingly. Lately that image has a habit of popping into her mind without the slightest bit of cause, but at least now it's useful. "All done!" The stylist urges her out of the chair and back out of the room. Across the set, Yonggook sits in a chair, hands bound, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, and it's so alike the first few times Jieun remembers seeing him in the TSE building that she has to pause. Then the director calls out and Yonggook stands up. The hood falls back on its own to reveal his freshly bleached hair and made-up face, and the spell is broken. Her attention returns to the table of food. Lunch was hours ago and she isn't sure when or if they're having dinner. She inches to the side, out of sight, and slowly, carefully, reaches for a piece of kimbap, only to be cut off by a pair of arms looping around her from above. She almost, almost screams, but a low chuckle from behind and the bound pair of wrists stop her. She tries to twist away, but Yonggook's tied-up arms hold her tight in place. "They forgot to undo this for me, do you mind?" he asks as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Hands shaking, she claws at the ropes with her manicured nails. "What if someone sees you?" she hisses. She can feel him shrug, his chest bumping against her back. "You're just helping me." Her face is warm and her brain is in panic-mode such that all she can manage in reply is a flustered, "Why like this?" He just shrugs again, and laughs at Jieun's failed attempts to untie him. After a few seconds he rests his head on her shoulder. She can feel him breathing against her. There goes the rest of her cognitive function. "Hana says you were talking about me," he says quietly while he waits. She wants to hit him, hit herself, do something, but his arms around her prevent all possibility. "I-you-just-shut up, please." Oddly enough, he obeys, and without his annoying commentary she's able to focus enough to undo the simple knot. Free, she pushes away his arms and whirls around the face him. Hood pulled back, Yonggook smiles and shakes out his arms. "They're kinda numb." That's all the explanation she's getting, too, she can tell by the smug glee in his crescent eyes. "I wasn't talking about you." With her hands on her hips, she likes to think she looks serious despite the slight waver in her voice. "Okay, Jieun-ah," he says and, hearing someone calling him, walks away as if nothing had happened. If only Jieun could do the same. "I don't like it here." He shifts in his seat beside her. "Too bad," she whispers back. "You'll get used to it by the time you debut," she adds, knowing she should be a little more empathetic than that. The bright lights of the waiting room glint off of shiny costumes and perfectly styled hair. Numerous idols flock around the two of them, who sit on a couch and try not to attract too much attention. "Are you nervous?" She glances at him and flinches. His clothes, dark and baggy with a huge, gaping hood that covers most of his face, only add to the generally intimidating figure his one-hundred-eighty-two centimeters make. After watching her colleagues nervously inch around him for a while, she'd made him sit down. It made him a little less frightening, but only a little. She can't help but notice that no one is coming up and socializing with her like they usually do. Then again, that might have to do more with the fact that she's alone. A cold weight lurches in her stomach and she stares at the floor. Usually it's Hyosung or Sunhwa's who's going around and chatting, dragging Hana and Jieun along. Either that or Jieun and Hana would sit in their corner and chat while the others did what they always do. Jieun never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or ruining her image because she'd have someone there to help if she needed. Now the only person she has is an anti-social, obviously grumpy boy who is under orders not to socialize with anyone. Or even show his face. Not yet, it's to build suspense. Quite frankly, the rule is already annoying both of them. "Jieun?" a voice brings her out of her thoughts. A brightly colored vest and blue jeans greet her as she looks up, and then a familiar face. She jumps to her feet and bows quickly, a smile bursting onto her face. "David!" she says breathlessly. She clasps his hand and David smiles back. "Congrats on your solo debut!" She bows again and nods, not sure what she should say. "Thank you so much," she replies over and over again. There's a rustling behind her and she can practically feel her side go cold. David's eyes don't widen a bit. He looks up at Yonggook and gives a friendly smile. "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to meet you." Yonggook's jaw clenches. "Thank you, sunbae." "David used to be my rap trainer," Jieun says quickly, though she's not sure why she feels the need to give an explanation. "I look forward to your debut," David continues. "You've got some skills, but it looks like you need to work on your nerves." He turns back to Jieun and smiles in a way that accepts the apology in her eyes. "Good luck tonight." Yonggook sits back down as David walks back to the rest of Dalmatian. Jieun sits down, too, and says quietly, "Was that really necessary?" Yonggook shrugs. "I was just greeting a sunbae. I've heard his work. He's good." But not as good as me, his tone says, and Jieun rolls her eyes. She takes a deep breath and her nails dig into her palms. They're both standing now, because very soon it's their turn to record. Yonggook is yawning and rolling his shoulders like he's getting ready to play some kind of sport, and there isn't the faintest trace of fear in his eyes. He's ready to go to war. His arms flex inside his sweatshirt; Jieun can see it from where she stands, not even a meter apart. But she can't keep still. She shuffles back and forth in her tiny allotted space in her uncomfortable heels. She pats at her numb cheeks with her warm hands. This isn't right. There should be three more here with her, one holding her hand, one holding her waist, one pressing close against her back to peek out at the audience. This time, there is no one. Her arms feel cold and her mouth is dry. The excitement she should be feeling is instead pure, immobilizing dread. "I can't do this," she whispers, not because she wants him to know but because she needs to say it out loud. Maybe if she can acknowledge her fear, it'll go away. "Yes you can," he replies. He moves a few centimeters closer, enough to be comforting but not intruding, and she appreciates it. "I'm alone." She swallows and looks at him, apologizing because she knows she's not really alone, but knowing he'll understand. He glances behind them before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "They're watching you right now. They're all supporting you, just remember that. When it's all over you'll go right back to them and they'll tell you how amazing you are." The smile on his face says, And I think you're pretty amazing, too. She smiles despite himself and takes a deep breath. Only when his face is a breath away from hers does she realize that he was moving at all. She almost closes her eyes on reflex and he chuckles kindly. "Too bad. I can't mess up your make-up." And so he takes one of her shaking hands and presses it to his lips. "You are so not my type," she says breathlessly, laughing afterward. He makes an annoyed "tch" sound, but is still smiling. "Like that'll stop me."