My glorious return! Not.
Um, hi.
tl;dr: I've had a really hard time in Tokyo for the past several months. I've been slowly trying to come out from under my rock, though, and I started shaking off the cobwebs by writing a few drabbles on an anonymous meme. They're rough and incomplete, but hey, it's something.
I'm very very aware of all the fic I still owe people, and I feel horrible about it. I will get to it.
On to the fic: Two post-disbandment drabbles (one Bom-centric, one G-Dragon/TOP), a bit of G-Dragon/TOP/Bom porn, and a pre-2NE1 CL & Teddy drabble.
Untitled
G-rated, Bom-centric
Prompt: Post-disbandment
Bom had fought so hard for this, for the career she'd thought she wanted. She'd switched majors and abandoned everything she knew for it, even. Hours and hours of vocal training until her voice was hoarse - to this day she can't suck on a cough drop without being hit by a nebulous sense of complete despair - and then hours and hours of waiting in crowded rooms, her identity reduced to the number plastered over her chest.
She never thought it would affect her so much: the faintly annoyed look on Yang Hyun Suk's face every time she went back to him, refusing to give up for years until he finally took her in; the eyes on her everywhere she went and the hundreds of online comments she'd pore over at night until her own eyes ached from crying so much; the steady beep-beep-beep of her heartbeat on the vital sign monitors, which she'd fall asleep to before every surgery.
It was all worth it, she'd told herself for years, even when she'd pass out after dancing for three hours on an empty stomach. It was fame and money and awesome clothes and everything anyone could have ever hoped for, right?
It was only when she woke up one morning with no interviews to prepare for, no albums to record, no photo shoots to make her feel miserable, no goal weight to worry about and no managers and stylists hovering over her that she realized how hellish the past decade of her life had been.
No more, she thought, and, for once, cried happy tears.
***
Untitled
PG, G-Dragon/TOP
Prompt: Post-disbandment
The cafeteria of YG Studios seems cold and empty after the flashing lights and barrage of questions from the reporters at the press conference. They stand face to face, somehow unwilling to leave even though Daesung and Youngbae and Seungri are long gone to their respective homes to rest, or rather to recover from the past two decades.
"What are you gonna do now?"
It's a little weird that they never discussed this over the last few months, the five of them clinging in silence to the normalcy of their recording-training-promotion routine. They can't pretend anymore, though.
Jiyong inclines his head, eyes cast down in thought. He'll probably take a long vacation somewhere, Seunghyun thinks -- he's always been the one most affected by their fame. Hell, it might be months before they see each other again.
He doesn't have much time to reflect on the way his insides jump at that thought as if he's just missed the last step on a staircase; Jiyong raises his head, finally, then leans forward and kisses him.
"... What, that's it?" Seunghyun says with mock-nonchalance as Jiyong's thumb traces his cheekbone and twenty years of a constant, low-key tension, an undefinable something at the edge of his mind suddenly clicks into place.
"Yeah." Jiyong's hand drops back to his side, but his eyes are laughing. "Don't you fucking dare ruin the moment, jackass. I can tell you're happy."
***
Untitled
G, Teddy & CL
Prompt: Pre-debut, "This is the part where I'm supposed to tell you it's not scary. Well, it is."
"This is awesome," Chaerin said, grinning, over the track Teddy had thrown together from a rap they'd co-written the previous week and a spare hook he'd had lying around, unused, since 1TYM's fourth album. "I hope YG's gonna let me get on stage soon." She positively bounced on the worn-out couch at the idea. "I can't wait to debut."
Teddy laughed humorlessly, thinking of Baek Kyoung crying in front of his computer and of the near-panic attacks he himself had had, more than once, while making his way through crowds of fans at the airport. "Chaerin... It fucking sucks."
She looked at him, her excitement fading to confusion. "What...?"
"It sucks. There's always people around, you know? And... shit, the things they're gonna say about you--"
"I don't care what people think," Chaerin said dismissively with all the predictable overconfidence of a teenager. They never thought they'd care.
"You ain't gonna get enough sleep. Ever again." That was one of the things he found hardest to watch: Youngbae and Jiyong pretty much losing consciousness as soon as they had the chance to sit still for a few minutes, whether it be in vans or in corners TV studios or even on the fucking hardwood floor of the dance practice room. It just wasn't right.
"I can handle it."
And she did seem strong. Strong enough to last longer than the Swi-T girls had, at least, but it still didn't sit right with Teddy to be part of the whole process, to meticulously build up some kid's confidence and skills as much as possible before sending them off to be slowly torn apart by mass media and opinionated fans and soulless TV producers.
***
Untitled
NC-17, G-Dragon/TOP/Bom
Seunghyun was sitting on his bed, Jiyong at his knees. His eyes met hers across the bedroom, and the rings on his fingers caught the light from the corridor as they slowly twisted in Jiyong's hair.
Bom opened her mouth. The silence was only broken by the soft sucking sounds coming from Jiyong's, though; she couldn't think with Seunghyun's eyes pinning her in place and the suffocating warmth suddenly flooding through her body. Jiyong took one quick look over his shoulder - Seunghyun's cock was glistening with spit - and his reddened lips curled into the barest of smiles.
They wanted her to see this, she realized. She'd known they were together, of course, but they were both too serious about their careers, too professional, and in months of working so closely together she'd never seen them so much as hold hands. Jiyong had never said anything, either, not even when Seunghyun's eyes had started lingering on her body through the dance studio mirrors, when conversation between her and Seunghyun had faded to awkward silences and held breaths and Jiyong would've been well within bounds to put his foot down and tell her off.
"Come here," Seunghyun said, his eyes burning into hers and his voice as low and husky as she'd imagined it would be (don't, don't, don't, she'd kept telling herself at night in her room, but she'd never been one for self-discipline). Jiyong hummed his agreement. She stepped forward.
tl;dr: I've had a really hard time in Tokyo for the past several months. I've been slowly trying to come out from under my rock, though, and I started shaking off the cobwebs by writing a few drabbles on an anonymous meme. They're rough and incomplete, but hey, it's something.
I'm very very aware of all the fic I still owe people, and I feel horrible about it. I will get to it.
On to the fic: Two post-disbandment drabbles (one Bom-centric, one G-Dragon/TOP), a bit of G-Dragon/TOP/Bom porn, and a pre-2NE1 CL & Teddy drabble.
Untitled
G-rated, Bom-centric
Prompt: Post-disbandment
Bom had fought so hard for this, for the career she'd thought she wanted. She'd switched majors and abandoned everything she knew for it, even. Hours and hours of vocal training until her voice was hoarse - to this day she can't suck on a cough drop without being hit by a nebulous sense of complete despair - and then hours and hours of waiting in crowded rooms, her identity reduced to the number plastered over her chest.
She never thought it would affect her so much: the faintly annoyed look on Yang Hyun Suk's face every time she went back to him, refusing to give up for years until he finally took her in; the eyes on her everywhere she went and the hundreds of online comments she'd pore over at night until her own eyes ached from crying so much; the steady beep-beep-beep of her heartbeat on the vital sign monitors, which she'd fall asleep to before every surgery.
It was all worth it, she'd told herself for years, even when she'd pass out after dancing for three hours on an empty stomach. It was fame and money and awesome clothes and everything anyone could have ever hoped for, right?
It was only when she woke up one morning with no interviews to prepare for, no albums to record, no photo shoots to make her feel miserable, no goal weight to worry about and no managers and stylists hovering over her that she realized how hellish the past decade of her life had been.
No more, she thought, and, for once, cried happy tears.
***
Untitled
PG, G-Dragon/TOP
Prompt: Post-disbandment
The cafeteria of YG Studios seems cold and empty after the flashing lights and barrage of questions from the reporters at the press conference. They stand face to face, somehow unwilling to leave even though Daesung and Youngbae and Seungri are long gone to their respective homes to rest, or rather to recover from the past two decades.
"What are you gonna do now?"
It's a little weird that they never discussed this over the last few months, the five of them clinging in silence to the normalcy of their recording-training-promotion routine. They can't pretend anymore, though.
Jiyong inclines his head, eyes cast down in thought. He'll probably take a long vacation somewhere, Seunghyun thinks -- he's always been the one most affected by their fame. Hell, it might be months before they see each other again.
He doesn't have much time to reflect on the way his insides jump at that thought as if he's just missed the last step on a staircase; Jiyong raises his head, finally, then leans forward and kisses him.
"... What, that's it?" Seunghyun says with mock-nonchalance as Jiyong's thumb traces his cheekbone and twenty years of a constant, low-key tension, an undefinable something at the edge of his mind suddenly clicks into place.
"Yeah." Jiyong's hand drops back to his side, but his eyes are laughing. "Don't you fucking dare ruin the moment, jackass. I can tell you're happy."
***
Untitled
G, Teddy & CL
Prompt: Pre-debut, "This is the part where I'm supposed to tell you it's not scary. Well, it is."
"This is awesome," Chaerin said, grinning, over the track Teddy had thrown together from a rap they'd co-written the previous week and a spare hook he'd had lying around, unused, since 1TYM's fourth album. "I hope YG's gonna let me get on stage soon." She positively bounced on the worn-out couch at the idea. "I can't wait to debut."
Teddy laughed humorlessly, thinking of Baek Kyoung crying in front of his computer and of the near-panic attacks he himself had had, more than once, while making his way through crowds of fans at the airport. "Chaerin... It fucking sucks."
She looked at him, her excitement fading to confusion. "What...?"
"It sucks. There's always people around, you know? And... shit, the things they're gonna say about you--"
"I don't care what people think," Chaerin said dismissively with all the predictable overconfidence of a teenager. They never thought they'd care.
"You ain't gonna get enough sleep. Ever again." That was one of the things he found hardest to watch: Youngbae and Jiyong pretty much losing consciousness as soon as they had the chance to sit still for a few minutes, whether it be in vans or in corners TV studios or even on the fucking hardwood floor of the dance practice room. It just wasn't right.
"I can handle it."
And she did seem strong. Strong enough to last longer than the Swi-T girls had, at least, but it still didn't sit right with Teddy to be part of the whole process, to meticulously build up some kid's confidence and skills as much as possible before sending them off to be slowly torn apart by mass media and opinionated fans and soulless TV producers.
***
Untitled
NC-17, G-Dragon/TOP/Bom
Seunghyun was sitting on his bed, Jiyong at his knees. His eyes met hers across the bedroom, and the rings on his fingers caught the light from the corridor as they slowly twisted in Jiyong's hair.
Bom opened her mouth. The silence was only broken by the soft sucking sounds coming from Jiyong's, though; she couldn't think with Seunghyun's eyes pinning her in place and the suffocating warmth suddenly flooding through her body. Jiyong took one quick look over his shoulder - Seunghyun's cock was glistening with spit - and his reddened lips curled into the barest of smiles.
They wanted her to see this, she realized. She'd known they were together, of course, but they were both too serious about their careers, too professional, and in months of working so closely together she'd never seen them so much as hold hands. Jiyong had never said anything, either, not even when Seunghyun's eyes had started lingering on her body through the dance studio mirrors, when conversation between her and Seunghyun had faded to awkward silences and held breaths and Jiyong would've been well within bounds to put his foot down and tell her off.
"Come here," Seunghyun said, his eyes burning into hers and his voice as low and husky as she'd imagined it would be (don't, don't, don't, she'd kept telling herself at night in her room, but she'd never been one for self-discipline). Jiyong hummed his agreement. She stepped forward.