Lipstick Liminality [ 1 of 3 ]
Title: Lipstick Liminality
Pairing: Jongin//Sehun//Luhan OT3
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:[Spoiler (click to open)]language, possible sexual harassment, fem!exo (girl!Jongin, girl!Sehun, girl!Lu Han, girl!Minseok, and girl!Chanyeol), Kris
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: First day on the job, and Jongin is already in over her head--in an ocean of hot breath and angry sighs named Oh Sehun. Lu Han’s perfume is also pretty overwhelming.
A/N: loosely based on the lyrics of this and this. Originally posted at the forjongin exchange.
“My name’s Lu Han.” The boss twirls a honey blonde curl around a long finger and Jongin struggles to maintain appropriate eye contact. She’s sweating through her jacket already and she’s been here less than an hour.
“Lu Han-ssi,” Jongin says, “is it…?”
“It’s Chinese,” Lu Han interrupts. “It means ‘badass and fearsome warrior.’”
“She’s lying,” the other person in the board room says, “and the only badass thing about her is her Ninja Turtles underwear. I’m Oh Sehun.”
Jongin looks between them, between Sehun’s bored expression and the sharp flash of light that crosses Lu Han’s dark eyes.
“You like what you see?” Lu Han twirls around in her spinny chair, arms outstretched. Jongin nods, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Good. ‘Cause this is where most of our staff meetings will happen when--”
“She’s still lying.” Sehun stands with a grunt to boost her hips onto the table, settling between Jongin and the boss. “We usually just meet in Lu’s office.”
“And,” Lu Han continues with a pointed look to Sehun, “our staff meetings are generally precise and to the point, so try to keep up. But don’t worry, we’re still chill because there’s--”
“Nope.” Sehun makes her lips pop. “Usually we bitch about the weather and the insane consumer prices of manicures.” She flicks a nail at Jongin, barely missing her forehead.
“--because there’s only two of us!” Lu Han finishes as if she were never interrupted. “Well, three of us now, including you, Jongin-ssi! Because we’re awesome and efficient, management trusts us to deliver on big projects, even understaffed and under budget.”
“Sounds...compelling.” Jongin tries to sound appreciative as she leans away from Sehun’s fingers, which are still flicking agitatedly in her breathing space.
“Translation: we’re so unimportant, no one cares what we do as long as we turn in drafts on time.” Sehun hitches one leg over the other, her wedge heel swinging dangerously close to Jongin’s chin as her floral print skirt rides up her thighs.
Jongin looks to Lu Han in question, but the boss keeps her professional smile in place. The kind of smile a museum docent keeps plastered on even while scolding nosy visitors not to photograph the mummy toes with the flash on. Lu Han would make a good hotel concierge. Or a museum docent, except Jongin hates museums and she rather likes Lu Han.
“Jongin-ssi, pastry?” Lu Han dips her hand into a white cardboard box and holds out a danish. The kind with powdered sugar that will get all over Jongin’s jacket with the first bite.
“Please, just Jongin is fine, really.” She smiles, showing off her teeth, and makes no move to take the pastry. The edges are sticky with some kind of red filling seeping out and it oozes under Lu Han’s fingernails.
“Take the pastry.” Sehun grabs it from Lu Han and shoves it in Jongin’s face. “And lose the jacket, you look like a chump.”
Jongin presses her lips together, wincing at the unfamiliar smear of lipstick between them, and takes it.
“Another perk of invisibility here, besides the lack of a dress code,” Lu Han pauses to pat Sehun’s bare thigh at the edge of her furled hemline, “is that we’re allotted the same budget as the larger departments. We can get really nice coffee for our meetings.”
“Meetings,” Sehun repeats, making quote marks in the air. She has really, really long pale fingers, and she wipes the powdered sugar and jam on the bony cap of her knee.
“Shall we adjourn?” Lu Han slaps the white cardboard lid on the white cardboard box. Only one of the corners closes. “Let me show you the ropes, Jongin.”
There aren’t any actual ropes in Jongin’s office, but there sure are a lot of wires. Jongin’s desk phone is hooked up to two different internal networks, both of which Lu Han says she won’t need.
“Even if it rings, just don’t answer. But make sure your door is unlocked in case Minseokkie comes down for some reason.” Lu Han frowns at the cables in her hand, as if deciding between the blue one and the white one will significantly impact Jongin’s internet connectivity.
“Minseok is Lu Han’s boss,” Sehun drawls through a yawn. She leans both elbows onto Jongin’s desk and Jongin leans back in her chair. “She lives upstairs, 18th floor.”
“But don’t worry, she never comes down here.” Lu Han tosses the blue cable in the far corner and plugs the white one into the scarred black laptop open on the desk. “Oh, before I forget,” she slaps a hot pink sticky note to the back of Jongin’s hand, “here’s the intranet password. Don’t trust anyone with your drafts. Technically it’s possible to transfer files over the intranet, but just don’t. Always take them straight to Minseok.”
“Departmental rivalry is pretty…”
Jongin turns to Sehun as she peels the note off and presses it to the laptop, just right of the trackpad. Sehun doesn’t finish her sentence, just blows a hot breath at the bangs falling into her eyes. They look like straw, stiff and faded yellow. Brittle. Jongin winces as a broken off strand drops to her desk and she makes a mental note to stock up on extra moisturizing conditioner.
“You got all that?” Lu Han’s eyes are dark and close. Jongin nods, even though she’s lying and it’ll probably come back to bite her. Even if Lu Han explained again, Jongin doubts she could comprehend it all. It’s hard to focus, caged in on both sides by her colleagues, restless legs trapped under a heavy desk. First day on the job, and Jongin is already in over her head--in an ocean of hot breath and angry sighs named Oh Sehun. Lu Han’s perfume is also pretty overwhelming.
“If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to ask! I promise, I’m nice.” Lu Han bats her eyelashes one too many times and strolls to the door. “I’ll come collect you for lunch. We always eat together downstairs.”
The door clicks shut, but Sehun is still leaning into Jongin’s shoulder, chin propped in her palms. “How old are you?”
Jongin ducks her head. The globe shaped pendant resting on her collarbones digs into her chin. This is the question she’s been dreading, is always dreading. “Twenty-one.”
“Okay.” Sehun flips around to lean her hips against the desk
“Okay what?” Jongin’s words come out harsher than she meant them and she bites her lip. Her defensive tone tends to sound hostile, and she needs to be more careful. Especially at work.
“Twenty-one, same as me.” Sehun picks up a paperclip, an old one with the loops bent awry. She tosses it up and clamps it in her fist. “Don’t worry about your age. You won’t get hurt if you follow the rules here.”
Jongin nods, licks at her lipstick. She is generally quite good at rules, or at least she tries to be.
“When’s your birthday?” Jongin asks, and Sehun glares. “I mean...so...I can get you really nice coffee! That day. ‘Cause I’m nice.”
“When’s yours?” Sehun’s eyes are slits that concentrate the sting of her gaze even sharper.
“Oh, uh, January.”
“Hmm.” Sehun drops the paper clip to the glass sheet topping the desk but the aluminum hardly makes a sound. “I’m in April.”
“Really?” Jongin’s fingers tighten on the mouse. Then that means she not the youngest for once, she’s actually--
“Don’t get any ideas, you’re still the bottom bitch here.” Sehun’s long, long fingers flick the paper clip across the desk. It bounces off the hard plastic swell of a troll doll’s stomach. There’s a line of them behind the computer, different heights, a pureed rainbow of dusty tufts of hair.
“Yes...ma’am.”
“Your office is really boring, by the way. You need some better decor.”
“Oh no--” Jongin says, eyes catching on the yellowed tape strapping the tiny plastic feet to the desk. “I mean, these aren’t mine. They were just here.”
“I know.” Sehun turns around with a smirk that doesn’t slip til she’s across the threshold and Jongin’s alone in the room with shelves of abandoned collectibles.
Jongin spends the weekend unpacking. The prospect of a new job, her first real job, felt surreal until she walked into the company building and no one stopped her, no one shot her a confused glare and said there must’ve been some mistake.
With her company ID swinging from her coat rack on a nylon lanyard, Jongin finally feels authorized to settle in. She only moved into the second floor one-room two weeks ago, but there’s already a mess of laundry strewn across the floor, sweat stained hose and wrinkled shirts. Her favorite sweats are lumped under her pillow on the bed.
On Saturday Jongin buys a laundry basket so she can keep her mess shoved under the bed responsibly, like an adult. On the way home she stops at a boutique in the department store, the shop only a few square meters of space literally dripping with imported European trinkets. Everything is overpriced, including the organic lip balm.
Jongin skips the fringe trimmed bolsters and comes home with a generic monochrome print of Paris to tack above her bed, unframed. She doubts Sehun would approve, but it’s more presentable than her tattered Panic! At The Disco poster from college, and it’s not like Sehun will ever see the inside of her apartment anyway.
On Sunday Jongin does laundry, hand rinsing the stockings and hanging her shirts up wet because she doesn’t have an iron. Her suits look fine with a bit of brushing. She can worry about finding a dry cleaning place next weekend.
“I thought we told you to dress comfortably,” Lu Han says with a distracted frown when Jongin comes in on Monday. Jongin looks down at the pleated chiffon skirt flaring out from under her nubbly silk blazer and then back to her boss. Lu Han is wearing tight vinyl pants and a rumpled linen crop top that don’t match at all, but somehow both complement the matte burgundy lipstick smeared across her mouth.
“Right, uh, good morning!” Jongin chirps, and makes sure she doesn’t flash the hall when she bows in her skirt. Lu Han nods absently, already typing again. Her pants can’t be more comfortable than Jongin’s breezy skirt, Jongin thinks with a frown as she drags herself to her office.
Her computer takes forever to boot, a glitchy file interrupting the start up. Jongin’s mind starts to wander as she punches the power button, planning out outfits in her head that might earn departmental approval.
“Here.” Sehun bursts through Jongin’s door without a knock and crosses the floor in three long strides. “This needs to be out Wednesday, so make sure it’s turned in before midnight tomorrow.” A sheaf of scrawled on notebook paper, chad frothing at the margins, descends in a scatter over the keyboard.
“Thanks,” Jongin says, scrambling to stack the papers into some semblance of neatness.
“‘S no problem,” Sehun slurs, “and lose the jacket, kid.” She slides her fingers under the lapel and yanks the jacket down Jongin’s shoulder.
“It’s cold,” Jongin protests, but lets it slip off so Sehun won’t damage the silk blazer. Her first professional wardrobe was bought on budget, mostly off of discount racks. She doubts the seams were constructed to withstand the abuse of Sehun’s insistent fingers. Sehun’s really, really long, pale fingers.
Sehun’s fingers are cold as they drag across her shoulders and Jongin lets out a low whine. She’s only wearing a sleeveless shell underneath.
“Seriously, I’ll freeze!” she hisses. It’s mid-autumn and the aircon is still running full blast on their floor.
“You should’ve thought of that when you got dressed this morning. Nice shoulders!” Sehun’s eyes give her top an appreciative caress through a blink of long lashes before she leans across the desk to hang the jacket on Jongin’s chair.
So Sehun’s not a complete asshole, then. Jongin half expected her to pitch the blazer into the cobwebby corner.
“Ciao.”
As soon as Sehun exits, slamming the door so it rattles the frame, Jongin tugs her jacket from the chair back. She puts it on halfway, just thrown over her shoulders without sticking her arms through the sleeves so she can immediately slip it off should there be further intrusions. Even with the added layer, Jongin still can’t shake the shivers stroking down her spine that Sehun’s fingers left in their wake.
They always eat together, the three of them, in the downstairs cafeteria. Lu Han orders salad with no dressing and something spicy, like yukgaejang or sundubu. Sehun gets whatever the special is, bulgogi in a dried out tortilla, greasy potatoes coated in sesame seeds, ddeokbokki in an over sweetened sauce. Jongin ordered a salad the first few days but once she realized her lunchmates don’t give a fuck about her dietary choices, she’s been alternating between fried chicken and kimbap. Which is pretty much all she eats at home, too.
“You doing ok? With work and stuff?” Lu Han slurps a tangle of boiled ferns and bean sprouts between her lips. She wipes the greasy broth on a lipstick stained napkin.
“Yes ma’am!” Jongin says quickly, then wavers, not wanting to sound over confident. “I mean, I think so.” She is the complete and total newbie here, as Sehun so enjoys reminding her.
“Not letting Sehun bully you around?” Lu Han slings an arm over Sehun’s shoulders, curling her fingers into the shapeless black sweater that hangs from her angular frame. Sehun doesn’t lean in, but she doesn’t pull away either. Jongin glances between them, chopsticks clutched in her fist.
“Why would Sehun--”
“Because you should let her bully you, just a teensy bit. Just so you don’t crush her ego.” Lu Han nods decisively and takes another bite.
“Excuse me?”
“When Sehun gets a bruised ego it ends up costing me a lot of bubble tea to fix it.” Lu Han sighs and smooths the back of her hair. Her no-nonsense chignon makes Jongin’s half ponytail clamped with a hair bow look like kid stuff. Jongin makes a mental note to either whack off her perm into a sleek bob, or else buy some grown-up looking hair stuff. Maybe faux tortoiseshell. That looks classy, right?
“Wait, bubble tea?”
“Hey, that shit’s expensive!” Lu Han protests, dunking her spoon in her soup broth. “Sehunnie only likes the kind from the ritzy shop over in Shinsa. You should come with us sometime.”
“Oh, well, that sounds nice.” Jongin peels a strip of soggy seaweed from a slice of kimbap and pops the bare rice in her mouth. Sehun glares across her broccoli soup and Jongin swallows the lumpy rice half chewed. “Maybe I’ll be free in...um...January?”
Lu Han gives her a weird, contemplating look, but Sehun smirks around her spoon, lips curling in victory. “Ok,” Lu Han says slowly, “just let me know.”
“Yes, I will,” Jongin says, breathless, and shoves the last two bites of kimbap between her teeth. Sehun’s relentless gaze is stealing her oxygen. “I’m...deadline.” She crumples her napkins and wrapper and waves them at the exit. “Sorry to leave first, but I should finish something. Enjoy your meal!”
Her hands are shaking as she brushes her teeth in the upstairs bathroom, and Jongin closes her office door securely before getting right to work on her latest article.
Sehun shows up not twenty minutes later. No knock, as usual.
“I’m here to pester you into hanging with us Saturday. You slipped away before we could get your number.” Sehun stays on the other side of Jongin’s desk but she still looms, her cropped blonde hair sticking up from a headband that matches the curve of her pouty lips.
“But I thought…” Jongin’s pinky rattles the space bar as she frowns.
“You thought what?” Sehun’s jersey skirt is twisted, the side stripes that should bracket her thighs highlighting the gap between her splayed legs.
“I dunno...you just seem...possessive of Lu Han, that’s all.” Jongin looks down with the warm prelude of a blush tingling in her cheeks, not sure if Sehun will get mad. But she didn’t know how else to put it, and Sehun doesn’t let people drop subjects.
“Of course I am! I’ve worked here longer than you.” Sehun huffs when Jongin continues to stare blankly up at her. She pulls her headband off and shoves it down against the crown of her head, hard. Jongin winces, imagining the bite of plastic teeth against her scalp. “I just needed to make sure you were aware of that…dynamic. But I think you’re ok, Kim. So be there Saturday, or I’ll put arsenic in your next coffee delivery to Minseok.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jongin squeaks as Sehun walks away with a greedy smile. Her teeth are tiny and perfect, but somehow reminiscent of crocodiles.
(part two here) (part three here)
Pairing: Jongin//Sehun//Luhan OT3
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:[Spoiler (click to open)]language, possible sexual harassment, fem!exo (girl!Jongin, girl!Sehun, girl!Lu Han, girl!Minseok, and girl!Chanyeol), Kris
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: First day on the job, and Jongin is already in over her head--in an ocean of hot breath and angry sighs named Oh Sehun. Lu Han’s perfume is also pretty overwhelming.
A/N: loosely based on the lyrics of this and this. Originally posted at the forjongin exchange.
“My name’s Lu Han.” The boss twirls a honey blonde curl around a long finger and Jongin struggles to maintain appropriate eye contact. She’s sweating through her jacket already and she’s been here less than an hour.
“Lu Han-ssi,” Jongin says, “is it…?”
“It’s Chinese,” Lu Han interrupts. “It means ‘badass and fearsome warrior.’”
“She’s lying,” the other person in the board room says, “and the only badass thing about her is her Ninja Turtles underwear. I’m Oh Sehun.”
Jongin looks between them, between Sehun’s bored expression and the sharp flash of light that crosses Lu Han’s dark eyes.
“You like what you see?” Lu Han twirls around in her spinny chair, arms outstretched. Jongin nods, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Good. ‘Cause this is where most of our staff meetings will happen when--”
“She’s still lying.” Sehun stands with a grunt to boost her hips onto the table, settling between Jongin and the boss. “We usually just meet in Lu’s office.”
“And,” Lu Han continues with a pointed look to Sehun, “our staff meetings are generally precise and to the point, so try to keep up. But don’t worry, we’re still chill because there’s--”
“Nope.” Sehun makes her lips pop. “Usually we bitch about the weather and the insane consumer prices of manicures.” She flicks a nail at Jongin, barely missing her forehead.
“--because there’s only two of us!” Lu Han finishes as if she were never interrupted. “Well, three of us now, including you, Jongin-ssi! Because we’re awesome and efficient, management trusts us to deliver on big projects, even understaffed and under budget.”
“Sounds...compelling.” Jongin tries to sound appreciative as she leans away from Sehun’s fingers, which are still flicking agitatedly in her breathing space.
“Translation: we’re so unimportant, no one cares what we do as long as we turn in drafts on time.” Sehun hitches one leg over the other, her wedge heel swinging dangerously close to Jongin’s chin as her floral print skirt rides up her thighs.
Jongin looks to Lu Han in question, but the boss keeps her professional smile in place. The kind of smile a museum docent keeps plastered on even while scolding nosy visitors not to photograph the mummy toes with the flash on. Lu Han would make a good hotel concierge. Or a museum docent, except Jongin hates museums and she rather likes Lu Han.
“Jongin-ssi, pastry?” Lu Han dips her hand into a white cardboard box and holds out a danish. The kind with powdered sugar that will get all over Jongin’s jacket with the first bite.
“Please, just Jongin is fine, really.” She smiles, showing off her teeth, and makes no move to take the pastry. The edges are sticky with some kind of red filling seeping out and it oozes under Lu Han’s fingernails.
“Take the pastry.” Sehun grabs it from Lu Han and shoves it in Jongin’s face. “And lose the jacket, you look like a chump.”
Jongin presses her lips together, wincing at the unfamiliar smear of lipstick between them, and takes it.
“Another perk of invisibility here, besides the lack of a dress code,” Lu Han pauses to pat Sehun’s bare thigh at the edge of her furled hemline, “is that we’re allotted the same budget as the larger departments. We can get really nice coffee for our meetings.”
“Meetings,” Sehun repeats, making quote marks in the air. She has really, really long pale fingers, and she wipes the powdered sugar and jam on the bony cap of her knee.
“Shall we adjourn?” Lu Han slaps the white cardboard lid on the white cardboard box. Only one of the corners closes. “Let me show you the ropes, Jongin.”
There aren’t any actual ropes in Jongin’s office, but there sure are a lot of wires. Jongin’s desk phone is hooked up to two different internal networks, both of which Lu Han says she won’t need.
“Even if it rings, just don’t answer. But make sure your door is unlocked in case Minseokkie comes down for some reason.” Lu Han frowns at the cables in her hand, as if deciding between the blue one and the white one will significantly impact Jongin’s internet connectivity.
“Minseok is Lu Han’s boss,” Sehun drawls through a yawn. She leans both elbows onto Jongin’s desk and Jongin leans back in her chair. “She lives upstairs, 18th floor.”
“But don’t worry, she never comes down here.” Lu Han tosses the blue cable in the far corner and plugs the white one into the scarred black laptop open on the desk. “Oh, before I forget,” she slaps a hot pink sticky note to the back of Jongin’s hand, “here’s the intranet password. Don’t trust anyone with your drafts. Technically it’s possible to transfer files over the intranet, but just don’t. Always take them straight to Minseok.”
“Departmental rivalry is pretty…”
Jongin turns to Sehun as she peels the note off and presses it to the laptop, just right of the trackpad. Sehun doesn’t finish her sentence, just blows a hot breath at the bangs falling into her eyes. They look like straw, stiff and faded yellow. Brittle. Jongin winces as a broken off strand drops to her desk and she makes a mental note to stock up on extra moisturizing conditioner.
“You got all that?” Lu Han’s eyes are dark and close. Jongin nods, even though she’s lying and it’ll probably come back to bite her. Even if Lu Han explained again, Jongin doubts she could comprehend it all. It’s hard to focus, caged in on both sides by her colleagues, restless legs trapped under a heavy desk. First day on the job, and Jongin is already in over her head--in an ocean of hot breath and angry sighs named Oh Sehun. Lu Han’s perfume is also pretty overwhelming.
“If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to ask! I promise, I’m nice.” Lu Han bats her eyelashes one too many times and strolls to the door. “I’ll come collect you for lunch. We always eat together downstairs.”
The door clicks shut, but Sehun is still leaning into Jongin’s shoulder, chin propped in her palms. “How old are you?”
Jongin ducks her head. The globe shaped pendant resting on her collarbones digs into her chin. This is the question she’s been dreading, is always dreading. “Twenty-one.”
“Okay.” Sehun flips around to lean her hips against the desk
“Okay what?” Jongin’s words come out harsher than she meant them and she bites her lip. Her defensive tone tends to sound hostile, and she needs to be more careful. Especially at work.
“Twenty-one, same as me.” Sehun picks up a paperclip, an old one with the loops bent awry. She tosses it up and clamps it in her fist. “Don’t worry about your age. You won’t get hurt if you follow the rules here.”
Jongin nods, licks at her lipstick. She is generally quite good at rules, or at least she tries to be.
“When’s your birthday?” Jongin asks, and Sehun glares. “I mean...so...I can get you really nice coffee! That day. ‘Cause I’m nice.”
“When’s yours?” Sehun’s eyes are slits that concentrate the sting of her gaze even sharper.
“Oh, uh, January.”
“Hmm.” Sehun drops the paper clip to the glass sheet topping the desk but the aluminum hardly makes a sound. “I’m in April.”
“Really?” Jongin’s fingers tighten on the mouse. Then that means she not the youngest for once, she’s actually--
“Don’t get any ideas, you’re still the bottom bitch here.” Sehun’s long, long fingers flick the paper clip across the desk. It bounces off the hard plastic swell of a troll doll’s stomach. There’s a line of them behind the computer, different heights, a pureed rainbow of dusty tufts of hair.
“Yes...ma’am.”
“Your office is really boring, by the way. You need some better decor.”
“Oh no--” Jongin says, eyes catching on the yellowed tape strapping the tiny plastic feet to the desk. “I mean, these aren’t mine. They were just here.”
“I know.” Sehun turns around with a smirk that doesn’t slip til she’s across the threshold and Jongin’s alone in the room with shelves of abandoned collectibles.
Jongin spends the weekend unpacking. The prospect of a new job, her first real job, felt surreal until she walked into the company building and no one stopped her, no one shot her a confused glare and said there must’ve been some mistake.
With her company ID swinging from her coat rack on a nylon lanyard, Jongin finally feels authorized to settle in. She only moved into the second floor one-room two weeks ago, but there’s already a mess of laundry strewn across the floor, sweat stained hose and wrinkled shirts. Her favorite sweats are lumped under her pillow on the bed.
On Saturday Jongin buys a laundry basket so she can keep her mess shoved under the bed responsibly, like an adult. On the way home she stops at a boutique in the department store, the shop only a few square meters of space literally dripping with imported European trinkets. Everything is overpriced, including the organic lip balm.
Jongin skips the fringe trimmed bolsters and comes home with a generic monochrome print of Paris to tack above her bed, unframed. She doubts Sehun would approve, but it’s more presentable than her tattered Panic! At The Disco poster from college, and it’s not like Sehun will ever see the inside of her apartment anyway.
On Sunday Jongin does laundry, hand rinsing the stockings and hanging her shirts up wet because she doesn’t have an iron. Her suits look fine with a bit of brushing. She can worry about finding a dry cleaning place next weekend.
“I thought we told you to dress comfortably,” Lu Han says with a distracted frown when Jongin comes in on Monday. Jongin looks down at the pleated chiffon skirt flaring out from under her nubbly silk blazer and then back to her boss. Lu Han is wearing tight vinyl pants and a rumpled linen crop top that don’t match at all, but somehow both complement the matte burgundy lipstick smeared across her mouth.
“Right, uh, good morning!” Jongin chirps, and makes sure she doesn’t flash the hall when she bows in her skirt. Lu Han nods absently, already typing again. Her pants can’t be more comfortable than Jongin’s breezy skirt, Jongin thinks with a frown as she drags herself to her office.
Her computer takes forever to boot, a glitchy file interrupting the start up. Jongin’s mind starts to wander as she punches the power button, planning out outfits in her head that might earn departmental approval.
“Here.” Sehun bursts through Jongin’s door without a knock and crosses the floor in three long strides. “This needs to be out Wednesday, so make sure it’s turned in before midnight tomorrow.” A sheaf of scrawled on notebook paper, chad frothing at the margins, descends in a scatter over the keyboard.
“Thanks,” Jongin says, scrambling to stack the papers into some semblance of neatness.
“‘S no problem,” Sehun slurs, “and lose the jacket, kid.” She slides her fingers under the lapel and yanks the jacket down Jongin’s shoulder.
“It’s cold,” Jongin protests, but lets it slip off so Sehun won’t damage the silk blazer. Her first professional wardrobe was bought on budget, mostly off of discount racks. She doubts the seams were constructed to withstand the abuse of Sehun’s insistent fingers. Sehun’s really, really long, pale fingers.
Sehun’s fingers are cold as they drag across her shoulders and Jongin lets out a low whine. She’s only wearing a sleeveless shell underneath.
“Seriously, I’ll freeze!” she hisses. It’s mid-autumn and the aircon is still running full blast on their floor.
“You should’ve thought of that when you got dressed this morning. Nice shoulders!” Sehun’s eyes give her top an appreciative caress through a blink of long lashes before she leans across the desk to hang the jacket on Jongin’s chair.
So Sehun’s not a complete asshole, then. Jongin half expected her to pitch the blazer into the cobwebby corner.
“Ciao.”
As soon as Sehun exits, slamming the door so it rattles the frame, Jongin tugs her jacket from the chair back. She puts it on halfway, just thrown over her shoulders without sticking her arms through the sleeves so she can immediately slip it off should there be further intrusions. Even with the added layer, Jongin still can’t shake the shivers stroking down her spine that Sehun’s fingers left in their wake.
They always eat together, the three of them, in the downstairs cafeteria. Lu Han orders salad with no dressing and something spicy, like yukgaejang or sundubu. Sehun gets whatever the special is, bulgogi in a dried out tortilla, greasy potatoes coated in sesame seeds, ddeokbokki in an over sweetened sauce. Jongin ordered a salad the first few days but once she realized her lunchmates don’t give a fuck about her dietary choices, she’s been alternating between fried chicken and kimbap. Which is pretty much all she eats at home, too.
“You doing ok? With work and stuff?” Lu Han slurps a tangle of boiled ferns and bean sprouts between her lips. She wipes the greasy broth on a lipstick stained napkin.
“Yes ma’am!” Jongin says quickly, then wavers, not wanting to sound over confident. “I mean, I think so.” She is the complete and total newbie here, as Sehun so enjoys reminding her.
“Not letting Sehun bully you around?” Lu Han slings an arm over Sehun’s shoulders, curling her fingers into the shapeless black sweater that hangs from her angular frame. Sehun doesn’t lean in, but she doesn’t pull away either. Jongin glances between them, chopsticks clutched in her fist.
“Why would Sehun--”
“Because you should let her bully you, just a teensy bit. Just so you don’t crush her ego.” Lu Han nods decisively and takes another bite.
“Excuse me?”
“When Sehun gets a bruised ego it ends up costing me a lot of bubble tea to fix it.” Lu Han sighs and smooths the back of her hair. Her no-nonsense chignon makes Jongin’s half ponytail clamped with a hair bow look like kid stuff. Jongin makes a mental note to either whack off her perm into a sleek bob, or else buy some grown-up looking hair stuff. Maybe faux tortoiseshell. That looks classy, right?
“Wait, bubble tea?”
“Hey, that shit’s expensive!” Lu Han protests, dunking her spoon in her soup broth. “Sehunnie only likes the kind from the ritzy shop over in Shinsa. You should come with us sometime.”
“Oh, well, that sounds nice.” Jongin peels a strip of soggy seaweed from a slice of kimbap and pops the bare rice in her mouth. Sehun glares across her broccoli soup and Jongin swallows the lumpy rice half chewed. “Maybe I’ll be free in...um...January?”
Lu Han gives her a weird, contemplating look, but Sehun smirks around her spoon, lips curling in victory. “Ok,” Lu Han says slowly, “just let me know.”
“Yes, I will,” Jongin says, breathless, and shoves the last two bites of kimbap between her teeth. Sehun’s relentless gaze is stealing her oxygen. “I’m...deadline.” She crumples her napkins and wrapper and waves them at the exit. “Sorry to leave first, but I should finish something. Enjoy your meal!”
Her hands are shaking as she brushes her teeth in the upstairs bathroom, and Jongin closes her office door securely before getting right to work on her latest article.
Sehun shows up not twenty minutes later. No knock, as usual.
“I’m here to pester you into hanging with us Saturday. You slipped away before we could get your number.” Sehun stays on the other side of Jongin’s desk but she still looms, her cropped blonde hair sticking up from a headband that matches the curve of her pouty lips.
“But I thought…” Jongin’s pinky rattles the space bar as she frowns.
“You thought what?” Sehun’s jersey skirt is twisted, the side stripes that should bracket her thighs highlighting the gap between her splayed legs.
“I dunno...you just seem...possessive of Lu Han, that’s all.” Jongin looks down with the warm prelude of a blush tingling in her cheeks, not sure if Sehun will get mad. But she didn’t know how else to put it, and Sehun doesn’t let people drop subjects.
“Of course I am! I’ve worked here longer than you.” Sehun huffs when Jongin continues to stare blankly up at her. She pulls her headband off and shoves it down against the crown of her head, hard. Jongin winces, imagining the bite of plastic teeth against her scalp. “I just needed to make sure you were aware of that…dynamic. But I think you’re ok, Kim. So be there Saturday, or I’ll put arsenic in your next coffee delivery to Minseok.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jongin squeaks as Sehun walks away with a greedy smile. Her teeth are tiny and perfect, but somehow reminiscent of crocodiles.
(part two here) (part three here)