I Need a Girl (KiWoon AU oneshot)

[himawarixxsandz]

Title: I Need a Girl
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): KiWoon, JunSeung, mentions of DooSeob
Summary: Dongwoon just needs paper, colors, and lines
A/N: So, I actually started this like weeks ago and it was supposed to be something short, fluffy, and funny. And then it exploded. It's no longer short, still pretty fluffy, and I have no idea how funny it is anymore OTL Tomorrow I'm uploading a bunch of stuff (if all turns out well) for Christmas, but no JoonHo that I promised. I'm thinking of making that for New Year's. But yeah. Anyway. Enjoy whatever monstrosity this turned out to be T^T


I’m tired of being alone

“I hate you, hyung,” Dongwoon says without much emotion because all of his emotion has been drained out of him throughout the course of the last hour he’s spent holding onto Junhyung’s feet in an attempt to get the lyricist to stop taking away Dongwoon’s manga. By now, Dongwoon is no longer holding onto Junhyung’s feet because the younger man thinks that eleven bruises are probably enough for today.

Junhyung ties up the trash bag. “It’s not like I’m throwing them away,” he snaps. “Stop being such a baby-I’m doing this for your own good.”

Dongwoon, personally, fails to see what sort of good is supposed to come out of his entire collection of One Piece being tied up and hauled over to Junhyung and Hyunseung’s apartment. He at least hopes that Hyunseung doesn’t try to eat them or something.

Sick of being single

“There isn’t even a point to this,” Dongwoon says, and runs a hand through his hair.

Junhyung glares at him as he hoists (with some difficulty) the increasingly large trash bag over his shoulder, dementedly resembling an anti-Santa-Clause. “There fucking is,” he says waspishly. “The point is to get you a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. I’m your best friend, and I forgot your sexuality-it’s gotten that bad, Dongwoon-ah.”

“I’m bi,” Dongwoon reminds him glumly.

“Good,” Junhyung says briskly, and shuffles as best he can towards the front door, trying not to trip on any of Dongwoon’s splayed out game consoles or anime figurines. “More options, then.”

Dongwoon opens the door for him.

“I’m going to get Hyunseungie to hook you up,” Junhyung huffs, sweat already forming against his forehead from carrying Dongwoon’s manga collection, “and I’ll be back tomorrow to get your dolls.”

Dongwoon slams the door after the other man.

Because they aren’t dolls-damn it.

They’re action figures.

Someone who will love me

It’s not that Dongwoon doesn’t want a relationship-it’s not even like he’s never been on dates before. He’s been on lots of dates through high school and through university because he personally doesn’t think he’s all that bad looking (even though, apparently, his worn-out-sweatshirts and jeans give Junhyung and Hyunseung aneurysms on the daily) and it’s not like he’s a jerk.

It’s more like Dongwoon thinks that if the right person rolls around, he or she will roll around. He doesn’t think he should have to actively look for someone to date just because most of his dates end unsuccessfully and he’s had all of two-point-five relationships in his entire life. Even Junhyung didn’t actively look for Hyunseung, as Dongwoon thinks he should remind the lyricist the next time they see each other.

It just so happened that an intensely attractive vocalist wandered into Junhyung’s studio one day and they ended up having sex and dating. That’s not an active search, in Dongwoon’s opinion.

And won’t play around when she’s bored

Dongwoon sighs, locking the door of his apartment behind him and straightening the tie around his neck. He glances over to the door beside his and feels a little smile crawl onto his face when a familiar face smiles back at him. “Hey, hyung,” Dongwoon says, waving and walking forward towards his neighbor.

Kikwang grins. “You look nice,” he says appraisingly. “Date?”

“Yeah,” Dongwoon says gloomily. He tugs at his tie again (because it’s itchy and not even his-it’s Hyunseung’s and the vocalist said that if Dongwoon doesn’t wear it, Hyunseung will feed his One Piece to the turtles).

“Why so enthusiastic?” Kikwang laughs, and Dongwoon feels the tips of his ears warm up a little-a regular occurrence when Dongwoon is around someone overly attractive. It happens especially often whenever Dongwoon talks to Kikwang-which is even more often since they’re neighbors.

Dongwoon shrugs. “Blind date,” he says. “’M not really that excited, y’know?”

His neighbor smiles and reaches out to pat Dongwoon’s arm. “Who knows?” Kikwang says brightly. “Maybe you’ll really like her.” He gives Dongwoon an encouraging wave before stepping back into his own apartment.

Even if she stands still

“You’re late,” Junhyung hisses when Dongwoon reaches the restaurant’s lobby. “And your tie isn’t high enough-fix it.”

Dongwoon puts his hands up at his neck and pretends to fix his tie (just because Junhyung likes to suffocate doesn’t mean Dongwoon has to too). “Sorry,” he says, “I was talking with my neighbor.”

“That’s great for your neighbor,” Junhyung says absently, and steers Dongwoon’s shoulder towards the direction of a cluster of tables. The lyricist jabs his finger towards a corner table with a pretty girl in a red dress. “She recorded with Hyunseungie once at the studio and he got her number because she thought he was hot. Go get her,” he says and pats Dongwoon’s back as a send-off.

“Wait-wait,” Dongwoon grabs Junhyung’s arm as the lyricist turns to leave. “What’re you going to do?”

Junhyung looks at Dongwoon like the younger man is stupid. “Hyunseung,” the lyricist says as though this is obvious and promptly exits the restaurant.

And guys hand her their phones

“Son Dongwoon,” he says and tries to sound as friendly as he can (it seems to work because she smiles back at him over the table).

“What do you like to do?” she asks as the waiter hands them menus.

He grins and leans forward. “Have you seen the new One Piece OVA? Because-”

That kind of girl who will proudly take out

Seven unproductive dates in, Junhyung loses it.

And the only thing between Junhyung losing it and Dongwoon losing his life is Hyunseung-who isn’t actually very happy with Dongwoon either since the artist continues to lose the vocalist’s ties-and-shirts whenever they’re lent.

“Do you know what the last girl told me?” Junhyung demands, clawing his arms as far as he can while Hyunseung teeters-and-totters between the lyricist and Dongwoon (who is curled into the farthest corner there is in his apartment). “She told me that you didn’t stop talking about fucking Ichigo’s fucking battle with fucking Zaraki until the tiramisu came out.”

“The tiramisu, which-by the way,” Hyunseung says, and turns his head for a moment to Dongwoon, “you got on my silver tie. You’re paying for the dry clean.”

“What else am I supposed to talk about?” Dongwoon says irritably and hopes that Hyunseung won’t get bored of holding Junhyung back and let go just to see what would happen if the lyricist actually managed to get his hands on Dongwoon.

“They’re girls,” Junhyung yells incredulously. “Ask them about their fucking hair or bras or something.”

And show my picture

“Maybe we should try with guys instead,” Hyunseung suggests then, shrugging. “I have lots of guys’ numbers too.”

Junhyung stops struggling long enough to look at the vocalist.

Dongwoon thinks maybe it’s safe to uncurl himself from the wall.

“Oh my God,” Junhyung says and rests his hands against Hyunseung’s hips. “You’re such a genius,” he says. “That’s perfect, baby.”

Dongwoon wonders if maybe he needs to get new friends-especially since Hyunseung has a lot of ties, Dongwoon has trouble with the tiny desert forks given at restaurants, and dry clean is expensive.

A girl who looks better in jeans

He’s pretty sure it’s mandatory that he finds new friends when he ends up kicked out of his own apartment, leaning against the railing underneath the night sky, because Junhyung is telling Hyunseung how much the lyricist appreciates the vocalist’s indescribable intelligence on Dongwoon’s living room sofa. Well-okay-so they didn’t really kick Dongwoon out because Dongwoon is sure he could’ve just stood there and watched the entire thing and neither of them would’ve cared.

It’s just-he’d rather sort of-y’know-not.

The weather’s nice tonight, so he doesn’t really mind.

He minds even less when he hears the door next to his click open and Kikwang comes out in jeans that ride visibly low on the older man’s waist because of the nearly translucent white wifebeater. Kikwang grins when their eyes meet (and Dongwoon’s ears turn red, right on cue). “Hi,” he says, waving.

“Hey,” Dongwoon says. “Where’re you headed?”

Kikwang shrugs. “Not sure.” He smiles. “Kind of bored, so I was going to go and do groceries or something.”

Dongwoon nods, looking down at his hands. Kikwang is sort of just standing there, doing the awkward wavering thing that Dongwoon knows means he’s supposed to say something further or end the conversation and let Kikwang do his errands except Dongwoon doesn’t know what else he should say (without going into the manga-anime-you-are-a-fucking-nerd territory that Junhyung has just forbidden to him).

He doesn’t know what to say but he doesn’t want to let Kikwang go just yet.

“Um-”

“How’d the date go?” Kikwang says, and (to Dongwoon’s surprise) suddenly comes to stand beside him, leaning on the railing as well.

“Terrible,” Dongwoon says, shrugging. “My friends are going to try setting me up with all guys next.”

Kikwang’s head whips towards him, eyes blinking rapidly. “You’re gay?”

Dongwoon blinks back. “I’m bi.”

The other man’s mouth opens a bit. “I-oh-oh, okay.”

“Does it bother you?” Dongwoon asks and supposes he probably should’ve used more discretion with that piece of information-it’s not something he bothers to really think about because it is what it is and sometimes, when he talks to Kikwang, he forgets that they’re only neighbors.

Kikwang laughs, his eyebrows furrowing playfully. “It’d be kind of hypocritical if it bothered me,” he says lightly, “since I am too.”

Dongwoon stares. “I-yeah?”

A girl that can eat well

“Why are you always late?” Junhyung hisses as Dongwoon comes stumbling-sprinting-stumbling through the door of the restaurant (and almost knocks into a waitress carrying glasses of water nearby). This time, he doesn’t even bother to tell Dongwoon first and grabs the younger man forward by the tie, hoisting it up until Dongwoon claws at Junhyung’s hands purely out of survival instinct.

“I was talking to my neighbor again,” Dongwoon says as Junhyung fixes the younger man’s collar.

Junhyung stares. “Dongwoon-ah,” he says with the air of holding back the punches he probably wanted to administer a few days ago but had no chance to since Hyunseung held him back, “wherever you go, you will always have neighbors unless you want to live on a fucking abandoned island. However, you will not always have a relationship so please don’t mess this one up.”

Dongwoon sighs. “I got it, hyung.”

A girl who looks young even when she’s old

Maybe, Dongwoon thinks, there’s something defective about him after all.

He drags his feet up the stairs towards his apartment, keys already in his hand and the slight buzz from the wine he drank nipping at his head. The date went just as Dongwoon expected-maybe even a little worse-in that he knew that once he was restricted from talking about art and manga and anime and drawing, there would be nothing left to talk about, and sure enough, he couldn’t even compliment his date’s dress because this time around his date was a guy.

Dongwoon wonders how Hyunseung knows all these single people anyway.

He sighs and raises his eyes, getting ready to unlock his door, fall on his sofa and pass out for the night. He’s too tired to think about undressing or showering, even though this will probably mean that he wrinkles Hyunseung’s tie and has to pay for more dry-cleaning.

“I’m guessing the date didn’t go so hot.”

Dongwoon’s head whips up. “Oh,” he says, his key in mid-turn.

Kikwang is in basketball shorts this time, still paired with a white wifebeater, with black square frames around his eyes. “Hi,” he waves.

“Yeah,” Dongwoon sighs, thumping his forehead against his door. “The date sucked because I couldn’t talk about anything and I ended up missing the rerun of the Naruto movie for a stupid date that sucked.” He winces, then, suddenly hearing his words replay in his head-he glances at Kikwang. “Sorry.”

Kikwang blinks. “What?”

Dongwoon bangs his head on the door a second time, wondering if maybe that would knock him out and Kikwang would leave him to his misery. “Nothing.”

“That’s going to leave a mark, y’know,” Kikwang smiles faintly. “And if you’re so upset about missing the rerun, I recorded it on my laptop. I could send it to you.”

A girl that acts shy

Dongwoon stares. “I-record-Naruto-you-really?”

But knows how to be bold

“I like Bleach better,” Kikwang smiles, “but Kakashi’s kind of cool, too.”

Dongwoon blinks.

“Can I come in?” Kikwang asks, pointing to Dongwoon’s still in-mid-turn-key. Dongwoon blinks again, and looks down, quickly finishing the rest of the turn-he holds the door open for Kikwang.

Always pretends to be careful of her behavior

In retrospect, Dongwoon supposes that he probably shouldn’t have let Kikwang come in. Except that he doesn’t have much time to spend in retrospect because Kikwang is in his house and Dongwoon’s drafts are all over the place-hanging from the ceiling on strings and clothespins (the ones that are drying, at least), and there are open paints and cups upon cups of dirty brush-rinse-water and if Kikwang stabs his foot on a charcoal pencil, Dongwoon might as well kill himself.

But he also doesn’t have much time to spend throwing everything out of sight because Kikwang has already picked up one of Dongwoon’s fallen drafts (probably due to a broken clothespin) and is staring at it with wide eyes. “Did you do this?” he asks curiously.

“I-well,” Dongwoon swallows, throwing his keys onto the counter. “Yeah-but it’s not mine. It’s-like-it’s not my story,” he says, crossing over towards Kikwang while kicking away as much as possible of the clutter on the floor.

“Oh,” Kikwang draws the sound out, full lips pushed out. “So you’re the illustrator, then?”

Dongwoon swallows again, coughing. “Um-I mean-okay.”

Kikwang’s eyebrows furrow, an uncertain smile. “Why don’t you sound prouder of this?” he asks softly. “It’s really pretty.”

“Really?” Dongwoon blurts out.

The draft is one that’s supposed to be part of the scene where the main character (a turtle) looks up at the stars and thinks about loneliness before his friends come back to find him. Dongwoon personally thinks that this is one of the drafts he’ll end up cutting because the night sky isn’t dark enough to contrast with the stars and he doesn’t like how the turtle’s silhouette ended up.

Kikwang laughs. “You need to stop sounding surprised,” he says playfully, reaching up and tugging at a lock of Dongwoon’s hair.

But when you’re with her

“I need to shower and go to bed,” Dongwoon blurts again-so rapidly that he’s almost afraid he might have to repeat himself for Kikwang to hear (all he knows, really, is that he needs Kikwang to leave Dongwoon’s apartment in a neat and timely fashion before Dongwoon promptly combusts).

Kikwang grins playfully, handing back the draft (fingers lingering against Dongwoon’s and Dongwoon thinks that he might honestly die). “Want me to join?” he says playfully.

Dongwoon feels his mouth drop open.

He stares.

Kikwang blinks, his smile faltering a little the longer the silence stretches on (a silence Dongwoon wants to fill, but isn’t entirely sure he heard right because there’s no way Kikwang has just said that-right?).

“I’m just kidding, Dongwoon-ah,” Kikwang says, a little sadly (fuck), and Dongwoon’s mind instantly implodes because fuck-fuck-fucking fuck fuck. He knows that of course Kikwang was just kidding because there’s no way someone like Kikwang would want to join someone like Dongwoon in the shower no matter how much Dongwoon might want someone like Kikwang to join Dongwoon in the shower except Dongwoon doesn’t exactly know how to articulate this to Kikwang and even less so when his mind is in a panic because Kikwang is looking disappointed and Dongwoon knows he’s a disappointment but he still doesn’t want to disappoint Kikwang because it’s Kikwang and-

“I’d love for you to join,” Dongwoon blurts-again.

Kikwang stares.

Dongwoon blinks-mouth opening and closing and opening and closing because he can’t-he-this-fucking believe he just-oh, fuck. He wishes Junhyung was here so the older man could kill Dongwoon before the mortification does.

“I mean I’m kidding,” Dongwoon stammers. “I mean-not that I wouldn’t want-but-like-I-sorry-”

You know what I’m talking about

Kikwang laughs, patting Dongwoon’s hip. “It’s okay,” he says, smiling brightly, one arm lightly around Dongwoon’s waist in a half-hug. “I have work to finish tonight anyway.” Kikwang grins. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

And Dongwoon can only watch (mouth open again and eyes frozen wide) as Kikwang steps around the furniture and heads out the door with a little wave.

Appearance is not an issue

Junhyung finds out about Kikwang unintentionally-accidentally-and completely without Dongwoon intending for Junhyung to find out because all of Dongwoon’s intentions are about Junhyung never finding out. Because if Junhyung ever found out, Dongwoon knows precisely what his (questionable) best friend’s reaction would be. Junhyung would react exactly the way Dongwoon predicts which is exactly the way Junhyung is reacting right this moment after glimpsing Kikwang getting into his car.

“That’s your neighbor?” Junhyung asks, with round eyes as he walks into Dongwoon’s kitchen to get a bottle of water.

Dongwoon sighs, taking a seat on the sofa. “Yeah.”

Junhyung comes to sit beside him. “He is your neighbor? The guy getting into the car? The one with the sweats and wifebeater?”

Dongwoon throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Yes, hyung-the guy getting into the car wearing sweatpants and a fucking wifebeater is my neighbor.”

The older man turns his head to face Dongwoon, squinting. “Are you sure?”

“Oh my God,” Dongwoon says. “Hyung, he’s my neighbor-I’m not going to-”

Junhyung snorts. “So you haven’t had sex with him,” he says.

Dongwoon sputters. “Hyung-he’s my fucking neighbor-what-why-he’s been over like once and I barely know him-”

“Then fucking get to know him,” Junhyung says loudly-heatedly, and the older man is suddenly standing up. Dongwoon blinks, bewildered. “Look,” Junhyung sighs. “I know you might not give a shit, but I do, okay? I’m worried about you and your mom even called me last week and actually fucking asked me if it’s harder to find someone if your gay and all these fucking questions that I really didn’t want to fucking answer because Hyunseungie was listening in and would’ve laughed himself fucking insane.”

“She always does that,” Dongwoon says apologetically. “You know that-and she called me too-she knows I’m fine, she’s just-”

“-worried about you like I am,” Junhyung finishes. “You rake in a fucking shitload drawing and I have no idea how you do it and that’s great and all, but I think she wishes you’d love someone real, y’know?”

Hobbies may be different, but what we like is the same

Dongwoon is silent.

He’s silent all the way until Junhyung sighs again and leaves.

Someone who’s easy to talk to

Dongwoon gets it-he understands. He understands where Junhyung, where his mom and dad, where Hyunseung-he understands where they’re all coming from. He understands because they’re probably more right than they think they are. They probably don’t know that Dongwoon wants exactly what they all want for Dongwoon too.

He wants to love someone real-wants to be able to love someone who he didn’t create on a piece of paper with colors and lines.

It’s just-

Everyone Dongwoon creates on pieces of paper with colors and lines-every single one of them is perfect in their own flawed way and Dongwoon loves all of them. He puts bits and pieces of his heart into each one, and he’s afraid that when he loves someone real-

He’s afraid that no one who’s real will ever be as perfect to him.

(On pieces of paper, made with colors and lines-they all instantly love Dongwoon back, and Dongwoon is always sure of that-he can never be sure if someone real will love him back or not)

Make my heart run again

On the day that Dongwoon finishes the illustrations for the book (Yoon Doojoon’s book), he walks the final drafts in to the author’s studio, since Yoseob (Doojoon’s editor) refuses to have someone pick them up from Dongwoon’s apartment (a waste of gas and time, Yoseob says, with how much they always pay Dongwoon). He walks them in and expects that he’s going to get a new project right after he hands in the drafts because that’s how it always works-Dongwoon likes to be busy and Yoseob likes working people to the bone.

He doesn’t expect, however, for Lee Kikwang-that Lee Kikwang, Kikwang-hyung, Dongwoon’s neighbor-to be standing in the middle of Doojoon’s writing room.

Help me write sweet songs again

“You know each other?” Yoseob asks happily as he stands in between Kikwang and Dongwoon (while Doojoon flips through Dongwoon’s final drafts). “Great,” the editor claps his hands. “Then you can work faster and we can have it done faster and the money can come in faster.” (Doojoon rolls his eyes and kicks Yoseob’s foot)

Kikwang smiles and Dongwoon feels like the floor might or might not have just fallen out from beneath his feet. “I didn’t know you write,” Dongwoon tries hoarsely.

“Well, I didn’t know you draw-I mean, up until when you told me,” Kikwang teases. “So we can call it even, yeah?” he smiles again, this time laughing a little so Dongwoon has a perfect view of even rows of white teeth displayed between full lips.

The person I want to give my heart to

There’s that feeling, right?

Dongwoon’s talked about it with Doojoon and Junhyung-since they’re all creators in their own way. It’s that feeling that they have right before they make something. They know it has to come to life and in each of their own heads, whatever that is-it’s already alive. To them, it’s always been alive, and that feeling is just a feeling that they have when they know this one is too perfect not to make alive to others too. It’s the feeling that nudges, elbows, prods and pokes for them to create.

And, for some reason, Dongwoon has that feeling right now-right now as Kikwang smiles up at him.

It’s odd.

Normally-usually, Dongwoon gets this feeling when he’s just finished drawing someone perfect (everything Dongwoon draws is perfect to him and he loves them all) and wishes, hopes, wants this someone to be real. If he or she were real, Dongwoon could love them.

But right now-it’s odd-because Dongwoon is pretty sure this is the first time he’s looking at someone real, someone he definitely didn’t draw or create, and wants to put this someone on paper. He wants to draw Kikwang and, the oddest part is, Dongwoon is afraid-this time around, for the first time-that what he draws won’t be nearly as perfect as the real thing.

It’s a first, huh?

Gotta make you mine

“Do you want to go out?” falls out of Dongwoon’s mouth before his brain has any time to premeditate this potential disaster (success?).

Yoseob and Doojoon stop talking (or-okay-Yoseob stops putting his hands underneath Doojoon’s shirt) and stare.

Kikwang blinks.

Dongwoon bites his lip.

Kikwang’s eyes curve and he reaches up, lightly brushing his hand over Dongwoon’s arm. “Sure,” he laughs.

I’ll treat you right, baby

“Where do you want to eat?” Dongwoon asks, later, while they’re in the parking lot of the writing studio (Doojoon kicked them out after Yoseob started undoing his own pants in celebration of having the final drafts turned in). He’s just walked Kikwang to his car, the older man twirling his keys thoughtfully.

Kikwang wrinkles his nose. “I kind of wanted to eat in-d’you want to come over?” He smiles. “I can order pizza and we can watch those reruns that you missed-I actually missed them too,” Kikwang adds sheepishly. “So I really want to-”

“That’s perfect,” Dongwoon says a little too quickly.

Kikwang widens his eyes, laughing again-complete with an arm wrapped around his stomach. And-for some reason-this time around, Dongwoon starts to laugh too (he isn’t sure why-it’s probably something to do with how amazing Kikwang looks when he laughs-it’s enough to make Dongwoon laugh right along).

As Kikwang gives Dongwoon a tight, brief hug before getting into his car (telling Dongwoon to come over at around six), Dongwoon feels vaguely stupid for ever thinking that perfection is only something he can make out of paper and colors and lines.

Also, he plans to drive up to Junhyung and Hyunseung’s apartment tomorrow to get his manga back.