[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Drowning in this Rush

[rabenhorst]

Title: Drowning in this Rush
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: girl!Minho/Key (Minjung/Gwiboon)
Warnings: none? girl on girl? first time writing this?
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: The deeper Minjung falls, the more she finds herself focused on numerous details about Gwiboon. It’s p0rn.
Comments: Urrrghhh so. For Nee. I hope it’s acceptable. In the Girlgroup-verse.

If Minjung had been asked about things she finds attractive, she wouldn’t have listed hair even among the top ten. Not before their first comeback. That is when Gwiboon proves her otherwise. Gwiboon’s hair was long to begin with, but she gets extensions until the longest part reaches the curve of her waist, while the other side of her head is nearly shaven off. The cut is angular and extravagant, underlining her sharp features. Something none of the others could pull off quite like she does. And it makes Minjung fall a little bit in love. Granted, she’s been well on her way for longer now, but somehow this feels like a milestone on the road of her growing attraction. It’s not like Taeyeon’s chocolate brown curls do anything to her. She doesn’t feel the urge to run her fingers through Eunsook’s bob cut, or to spend hours unknotting the thick mess of Junghee’s hair in the mornings. No, it’s only Gwiboon. Gwiboon with her ridiculously flashy hair. Or, Gwiboon with her ridiculously flashy everything, considering her fashion sense. Ever since the two of them began to grow closer, bond over their shared dance practices, Minjung has started to notice little things she finds more than a bit intriguing about the other girl, and this seems to be one of them. Especially when things evolve even further, when the friendships shifts into something more. After that first kiss backstage there’s the second one, this time in the secrecy of their own kitchen before any of the others have woken up. There’s the third, the fourth, until they both stop counting. There are kisses in the morning, kisses in the evening, in bright daylight and sometimes even in the middle of the night. And the deeper Minjung falls, the more she finds herself focused on numerous details about Gwiboon. The hair included. The worst – or the best – part of it is that Gwiboon knows. She’s fully aware of the way she affects Minjung and she’s fighting tooth and nail to be allowed to keep her hair as it is until their next official album release. The initial shock value has worn off, but no one can deny she’s rocking the style in a way that demands some more time for it. That’s how Gwiboon now, four months after their comeback, is still winning in the big hair drama. She’s even managed to drive one of their stylists on the brink of a nervous breakdown, shooting down all of the suggestions to change it. So they’ve settled on a compromise: Gwiboon gets to keep the cut, but for every performance they set it up differently. There have been braids, princess Leia inspired styles, gigantic ornaments set in the midst of imaginative whirls and buns, sometimes only little bells and pearls twined into the long strands. Much to Minjung’s dismay, it looks amazing almost every time. Then again she is fairly sure Gwiboon would look gorgeous no matter what, so there is no winning for her. Or losing, depending on how you look at things. At the very least she’s glad she’s not a guy; otherwise there’d be a lot of random awkward boners in inappropriate situations. Like this, she only gets to enjoy the pros, the stolen kisses and moments they manage to steal together out of prying eyes. What Minjung loves the most is when she gets to be the one to mess up the perfection that is Gwiboon. She loves to run her fingers through the long strands of hair, loves unbraiding, unhooking and unravelling the buns and twirls, loves detaching the numerous decorations. The most stunning she’s ever seen Gwiboon is with her cheeks flushed, her lips reddened from the kisses and her hair tousled. It’s way too rare for them to catch a moment alone properly, so when their sleeping arrangements change and they get assigned a room together it’s like Christmas come early for them. A room means a lockable door, and that means more privacy than they ever even dared to hope for. And that is how things escalate. Minjung has been spending a slow night in, and she knows there’s a crass contrast between the two of them; her comfy sweats and loose shirt compared to Gwiboon’s tiny skirt and cute top. She’s freshly showered, her hair still damp, while Gwiboon looks like she materialized straight from a make up commercial with the way she looks perfectly touched up. Or looked. Minjung has been doing a pretty good job in destroying that perfection. For once Gwiboon doesn’t care how her lip gloss is smeared, her shirt hanging off one shoulder, and her perfect curls looking less printed by now. She nearly purrs as Minjung runs her fingers along one of the pink highlights, contrasting against the natural pitch black. This time there’s one electric blue one as well, and Minjung has hard time believing anyone else would pull it off as well as Gwiboon does. Then again, she might be ever so slightly biased in her opinion. Minjung lets her fingers slide down slowly, until she can wrap the long part of Gwiboon’s hair around her wrist in one quick movement. Although she makes sure it doesn’t hurt, her grip is firm as she pulls Gwiboon’s head back, angling her to gain better access to the column of her neck. Minjung mouths at the pale skin as she follows the sharp line of Gwiboon’s jaw, trails down to her collarbone. It’s intoxicating how Gwiboon is shivering underneath her, arching her back to press them closer together. Minjung slips her free hand underneath the stretched shirt, her palm sliding up Gwiboon’s flat stomach until she reaches the clasp of her bra. It’s not the first time she’s gotten her hands on Gwiboon like this, but it still feels new, feels like she’s won the lottery for being allowed to have all this. That must be written all over her features as the next thing she knows Gwiboon pushes her shoulder playfully, grinning up at her. “Stop looking like that.” “Like what?” Minjung asks, blinking innocently. Almost too easily she unhooks the lacy bra and lets it fall to the sides, following the movement over a round breast. She’s already figured out how Gwiboon likes it, and true enough gains a helpless shudder with little to no effort at all. “Like that,” Gwiboon grits out helpfully through clenched teeth. She tries her hardest to appear unaffected but there’s a telltale blush on her skin, visible even through the layer of make up. Her eyes slip shut as Minjung leans down, pushing the shirt out of her way as she replaces her hand with her mouth. She has to hold Gwiboon down then, with a hand on her ribs, teasing breathless gasps from her. It’s been a fun journey, finding out what makes each other tick, and they both know they’ve only taken the first steps of the way. Easily Gwiboon’s thighs fall open for Minjung, who takes the given opportunity to push up the skirt. It’d require way too much coordination and effort to strip it off properly right now but this is good enough. Gently, Minjung rakes her blunt fingernails up Gwiboon’s inner thigh, rubbing slow circles into her hipbone. The touches are just enough to push Gwiboon to the point of nearly begging for more, asking for direct stimulation. The kiss that follows is almost filthy, intense in a way that short-circuits Minjung’s brains and makes her limbs buckle, dangerous to her balance. It feels like her whole body is thrumming with the excess energy, her skin crawling with the need to touch, to be touched. In a sudden movement Gwiboon rolls them over, shoving Minjung into the pillows with surprising force. She’s grinning as she hovers above Minjung, her eyes bright. “You do know I can’t keep the same hairdo forever?” She asks conversationally, but there’s nothing casual in the way she slowly moves her hips to grind against Minjung’s thigh. Instinctively Minjung lifts her leg, bends it at the knee, to provide better resistance and thus more friction. “I know,” she breathes out, reaching up to twine her fingers into said hair now that she still can, seizing the opportunity. “But I have a feeling I’ll love the next version of it, too.” She’s not even saying it to be nice, or to sweet-talk, she’s honestly convinced of that. Gwiboon knows that, knows that Minjung is a crap liar and wouldn’t be able to appear even halfway believable if she didn’t mean it. There is no answer, not with words anyway. Instead Gwiboon rocks her hips again, a breathy little moan escaping her parted lips as she finds the exact right way to rut against Minjung’s leg. Her skirt is still bunched up around her waist, her shirt in such a stage of disarray it might be stretched beyond salvation by now. Maybe that’s what finally helps Minjung decide it can go altogether. Easily, Minjung slips her palms underneath Gwiboon’s shirt to push it upwards and expose more skin to touch. It’s more difficult to get Gwiboon to lift her arms for long enough that the garment can be properly discarded to the side. It’s easy enough to get Minjung out of her loose shirt and she again congratulates herself for the habit of not wearing a bra when she knows she’s spending the evening confined within the walls of their apartment. Her sweats aren’t much more difficult, sliding down her hips so she can kick them off. Gwiboon is still rubbing against her, sliding lower now until their bodies are flush against one another. It sends sparks of pleasure through Minjung and she can’t stop herself from bucking up, trying to gain more of it. She has a feeling she could already reach her limits from the way Gwiboon looks on top of her, all flushed skin and reddened lips, strands of hair sticking to the sweat on her shoulders, her arms, her chest. The only barrier between them is the thin material of their underwear but neither of them cares, too focused on the building sensations to bother with taking them off. Gwiboon is moving her hips in small circles, and Minjung could swear she adds bits and pieces of their most recent choreography into that. Whenever she gets more used to the way their bodies slide together Gwiboon changes the angle slightly, alters the pace, keeps Minjung on her toes expecting what comes next. It’s addictive on its own already, but Minjung feels like she’s going out of her mind if she doesn’t gain release soon enough. She slides her palms down the curve of Gwiboon’s back to her butt, grabbing her hips tight to pull her down with more force. She’s rewarded with a surprised moan, high-pitched enough to turn into a whimper when she repeats the motion. She hooks one of her arms around the back of Gwiboon’s thigh, reaching between her legs to get her fingers on the soggy fabric. That does the trick and within seconds Minjung has Gwiboon reduced to a gasping, shuddering mess. Not that she’s much better off, not when everything seems like a sensory overload, sending her hanging on a thin thread. Gwiboon is the one who snaps first. She throws her head back, the sound getting stuck in her throat as her breath hitches, tremors shaking her from head to toe. It only lasts for a few heartbeats before she goes pliant in Minjung’s hands, easily following the guidance as Minjung shamelessly uses her to get what she needs. Minjung arches her back, lifts her pelvis to press against Gwiboon in the exact right way that finally sends her careening over the edge. Instinctively Minjung twines her arms around Gwiboon’s waist and pulls her close, until it’s inch after inch of skin on skin, their heartbeats slowly calming back down to the regular pace. Sweat is cooling on their skin and they know now would be a perfect moment to clean up, but neither of them really feels like moving. So instead, Gwiboon presses her face into Minjung’s neck, mouthing at a patch of skin below her ear. “You do know you need to shower again now?” she asks, her voice a low, content purr. She’s warm and languid against Minjung’s side, her soft curves slotting perfectly against the longer planes of Minjung’s body. “Yeah,” Minjung chuckles, “I know.” She can’t help but toy with the long strands of multicoloured hair again, relaxing as she makes twirls around her fingers. The silence stretches on until Gwiboon finally breaks it, mumbling sleepily right against Minjung’s shoulder. “I was thinking of bright red next. Shoulder length and a few longer parts. Or maybe blond? Like, so light it’s almost white. But that would need a really short cut.” Minjung doesn’t answer. Instead, she takes a hold of the back of Gwiboon’s knee, hitching the leg up over her hip. It presses them even closer together, a faint shiver running down Gwiboon’s spine. It only takes a tilt of their heads to slide into yet another kiss, one that begins slow but rapidly gains more heat. Soon enough Gwiboon shifts until she’s straddling Minjung’s waist, smirking down at her as her fingers dance up Minjung’s chest. “Maybe we can negotiate,” she coos, “I’m sure I can convince you to see it my way.” She scrapes her pink fingernails along the sensitive skin, her laughter echoing off the walls as Minjung reacts exactly the way she anticipated. Truthfully, Minjung knows it’s a battle she’s already lost before it even began. Not that she minds.

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(2279 words)


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please don’t kill me ;_____;

and yes it's named after the Poisonblack song just because the vid does have two girls get all up in each other's personal space lmao. plus I love the song. but it rly has nothing to do with the fic. nothing.