Chapter Text
They laugh as they fall into the living room. In general, this should not be done, especially as loudly as Minnie does, especially when they both know that Miyeon's parents and older brother are sleeping at home — literally behind the wall of her own room. But the room is on the second floor, and they have already been breaking into the apartment like the most inept thieves — Miyeon seemed to want to rip up this unfortunate lock with her keys (and, of course, she tried to shove the key from the upper, round one, into the lower lock — narrow rectangular hole, but this did not bother her at all; she was confused only by the hands of Minnie standing behind her and touching here and there on her sides) — so there's not much to lose.
As soon as the door slams shut behind them (re-e-eally quietly closes and latches), Miyeon becomes more serious, well at least she's trying.
"And now we'll go upstairs, ve-e-ery quietly. Ve-ry, okay?"
"Of c-"
"And no talking. Like no sound," Miyeon cuts off in a whisper, putting her index finger somewhere in the area of Minnie's lips. It turns out surprisingly well, considering that she rests the rest of her bent fingers on her chin for stability.
Minnie wants to laugh so much, no, nicker because of her facial expression. Miyeon, when drunk, is so funny, so relaxed and not thinking about anything at all (even about her oppa, even about her parents, especially when Minnie still manages to say her "of course" onto her lips). Minnie pulls Miyeon by her waist, abruptly, so that Miyeon almost falls on her. Minnie sways, trying to stay on her feet and not plop down on the fashionable mustard-colored sofa. A very good choice — she accidentally thinks to herself on her designer profile language. Ugh, fuck this study for now!
"Not now," Miyen mumbles, poking her lips at random into her face. It hits Minnie's cheek. Miyeon presses her cheek against Minnie's. She stays like this for a short time, sticking to Minnie in tight embrace. Then her head slides lower and stops with her chin on Minnie's shoulder.
The t-shirt under the jacket sticks to the body worse than before (Minnie not only sweated because of especially hot May, but also got wet because of Yuqi's stupid idea to shoot with water pistols), when Miyeon hugs Minnie. Her fingers scratching the others' back. A little more, and Minnie can start purring with pleasure. It's almost as pleasant as scratching forearm with fingertips, but not nearly as pleasant as the little ridiculous kisses caught in public.
Sometimes Minnie wants to tell everyone that Miyeon is with her. Miyeon is with her. Point. No kickbacks and questionable pickup phrases, please. Leave it to Minnie. She has in this case — not the dog eaten, because it's a pity for dogs somehow — the doctor's degree protected.
"Baby, did it hurt-"
Miyeon raises her eyebrows. Minnie feels it on her cheek. Ticklish.
"When you fell out of the vending machine? Because it looks like I wouldn't mind eating-"
"Yah!" Miyeon separates from Minnie still caught in a cage — splits her arms, starting with the cheekbone, stuck to her chin — and pushes her shoulder. Not hard, but to make it clear that this is already lame, baby, this is too much.
"You…"
Miyeon slides her gaze to Minnie's lips. She pulls herself up, shakes her head from side to side.
"Let's go." Minnie feels her fingers interwine with her own. It turns into a flimsy lock. They try to walk as quietly as possible up the stairs. It turns out just awful, because Minnie stumbles every now and then.
There are only ten steps. They feel like a staircase to the Heavenly Gate (a ladder to the Tianmenshan Cave with a length of 999 steps) no less.
The walls of Miyeon's room are bare, but painted in pastel pink. She also has a pink wardrobe and a table lamp. Miyeon's room looks like a princess's room: a huge mirror over the dressing table, a fluffy white carpet (she vacuums it every day, so this is solely her merit) and a bed with a width of one and a half beds. Almost a queen-size, just as it should be for Miyeon — because she's the queen, damn it. The queen of today's prom, the queen of Minnie's heart, the queen of white lies.
And Minnie likes it so, so much. Minnie likes Miyeon so, so much.
Miyeon falls onto the bed with her back, without undressing. She spreads her arms and lies there for a couple of seconds before raising herself on her elbows and paying attention to Minnie taking off her jacket. Minnie throws it on the back of a chair by the desk. Today she is going to sleep with Miyeon, in her embrace, and it will be the most wonderful night of her life (so far). So far, Miyeon doesn't look sleepy — at all. Miyeon looks like she's ready to devour Minnie right here, right now, right when her brother is peacefully snuffling behind the wall.
"No, no, what are you doing," Minnie mumbles at her attempts to pull herself onto the bed — right above Miyeon. Miyeon's dress is yellow and undoes from the back, but she doesn't let it to be unzipped. She continues to puff out her cheeks and frown in her not so sober manner. Sweet.
Minnie jumps on one leg, pulling off a long silver-glittered sock from the other. Then the second one — in the same stupid way, without thinking to grab the edge of the table for balance.
If Miyeon has just a little something in mind, she should at least think a little about the fact that her house is full of people (and they should not know a) that their seventeen-year-old daughter is dating a girl, b) has preserved the remnants of innocence exclusively in the pastel pink color of her room), and that neither what kind of quickest little sex is out of the question.
"Well, if you're quiet-"
"If you're quiet."
And not "if" at all. There can be no "if" now, if there were just not enough problems with her parents on the eve of going to college. Miyeon whines, rolls onto her side to see how Minnie pulls her t-shirt over her head, remaining in a sports top better. Miyeon pulls her hands in her direction and pokes her thigh, barely reaching it. Minnie dodges a second poke.
"Not today, it's... dangerous."
"So what?"
"No "so what"," Minnie says, folding her t-shirt in half, putting it to her jacket. She starts to unbutton her belt.
Miyeon sits up on the bed, tucking her legs under her butt. Minnie has been fiddling with the belt for too long — the hole punched the day before with an awl for the tongue of the buckle turned out to be too small. And the fact that Miyeon grabs the belt, forcing Minnie to take a couple more steps to the bed is not surprising.
"Lemme help you," she says. Pulling Minnie closer to herself, grinning.
Miyeon handles the belt quickly. Just as quickly, Minnie finds herself dragged onto the bed just like that — in bright blue pants, bought especially for the prom, and a sports top. Miyeon lies down on the bed with entire back, holds Minnie by the belt from behind, goes down with her hands lower. Stroking, squeezing.
"Miyeon-ah, we can't now-"
"We can. I said," Miyeon gets up again, pulling away from the bed (and Minnie is really ready to be forever surprised at how strong her abs muscles are, given the apparent fragility), "you can."
Miyeon raises her arms from Minnie's waist to her face. Pulls it to herself, falling back on the bed. The soft mattress is crumpled. Miyeon's lips press into Minnie's. And that determines everything. Miyeon detirmines to act for sure.
Miyeon kisses too sloppy, wet and even cheeky for her external modesty. She makes her way into Minnie's mouth with her tongue, bites, makes Minnie breathe unevenly, makes her feel the temperature creeping up to her face.
Miyeon looks like a disease. Looks like a deadly 37.5°C — offhand. Looks like a sore throat after an awesome evening in the company of the coolest friends at karaoke bar. Looks like a shooting pain in teeth when she descends with sweaty palms over the shoulders to the ribs, and then crawls smoothly to Minnie's chest and squeezes — suddenly.
Miyeon is like one big lie, when she whispers "you are the" in her ear and doesn't continue breaking into her lips with a noisy exhalation. A lie for salvation, right?
Minnie will stay "the" for Miyeon — for now. Until Mom and Dad find her a suitable match. A person who will not be uncomfortable in a too big house and will not be stressed by paying for an expensive restaurant over and over again, because Miyeon likes the wine there.
Minnie kisses her back the same way — insistently, a little bit angrily (just a little). She pushes Miyeon's shoulders into the bed, moving to the neck. Miyeon lifts her back to make it easier to unzip her dress. The dress is silk, and therefore slides from the edge of the bed to the floor. Miyeon stretches her arms up when Minnie pulls off her bra.
Miyeon is beautiful. Miyeon is beautiful enough to surpass Princess Diana. After all, she's the queen, right?
"The best," Miyeon whispers, pressing Minnie's head to her chest. She holds Minnie's hair tightly, clinging with long nails. They're pink, even more pink than her whole room. Minnie bites her nipple (grins at the sharp ragged exhile), licks it before blowing onto it. Miyeon leans her head back against the pillows. Softly. Minnie goes down. Under the breast, while twisting the nipples between her fingers, along the sternum, along the stomach (Miyeon laughs softly — it's tickling — and intuitively draws stomach in under Minnie's touches) — Minnie places kisses. Below. Lower. She holds Miyeon's hips from the outside.
Miyeon doesn't need to be asked to spread her legs. Minnie looks at her from under her brows, after the first movement — along, with her nose through the fabric of her underpants — checks. Miyeon bites her lip. One more time. Minnie presses somewhere blindly, because the body feels wrong through the fabric, and it's harder to navigate. Miyeon shudders, tensing her whole body. Alright. Minnie does everything right. She does it again, then again, and again. Pulls Miyeon's panties down her legs, not forgetting to kiss under the knee (because it feels nice there; because Miyeon likes when she is kissed there).
Minnie carefully tries to push the same way as before, but with her fingers and now directly. Without underwear, it feels different. Miyeon sobs softly.
"More."
It is customary to obey the orders of Queens.
Minnie tries a different way. This is the first time she does it. With Miyeon she tries for the first time. The first time —at all. Minnie tries a lot of things for the first time with Miyeon. She tried mango-flavored ice cream, carrot cake, sweet cocktails. Minnie tries fingering. She had already read about it. The Internet epoque is definitely a plus in satisfying the desires of Queens. She looks at her fingers with disbelief, as if they are not good enough.
"What do you think about, hm, penetration?"
Miyeon lifts her head from the pillows to look at Minnie in bewilderment. Annoyance is written on her face. Very colorful. Very beautiful. Very pink — cheeks, disheveled hair.
"Just- yes, yes, Minnie, whatever."
When her name is pronounced by Miyeon, it sounds better. It's already beautiful, but Miyeon makes it almost magical.
"Say it again."
"What?"
"Say it again... my name."
Minnie wonders if she looks pathetic enough now, or if there is still a place to fall down.
"Minnie?"
The fingers pass over the vulva. The lube is smeared. One, Minnie thinks, is not enough, three are definitely too much. Her fingers are thin, not much thicker than the fountain pen from Miyeon's desk, which she managed to notice before. She pushes her fingers inside — carefully, little by little. Bends her fingers, twisting hand towards herself. Minnie puts her elbow on the bed for support.
Miyeon with her mouth open and her eyes closed is an absolute art. A masterpiece.
Minnie scrolls her fingers again, spreads them apart. But that seems to please Miyeon less. So she returnes to bending them and pulling towards herself. Yes, that's right. This is the way pleasure is drawn on Miyeon's face.
Queens, as a rule, need to be pleased.
One more time. And again, pressing her lips to the inside of Miyeon's thigh. Miyeon's legs tense up, the muscles feel angular under the kiss.
"Min-"
"Miyeon-ah, is everything okay?"
Minnie shudders when a man's voice hoarse from sleep, is heard on the other side of the door. Miyeon bites her lips in frustration.
"Yes, Oppa. My friend and I decided to play Uno, 'cause we don't wanna sleep," says Miyeon, and her voice trembles a little.
"Oppa" stands at the door for a little longer before the shuffling of slippers is heard. Miyeon looks annoyed. She sits up on the bed, bites her cheeks from the inside. Angry. Miyeon is angry.
Minnie is a little hurt. She wants to throw all these pillows off the bed and Miyeon herself too — on this white fluffy carpet. But the Queens are not treated like that. And if this is a palace coup, then it must be as impressive as the Queen, there is no other way.
Minnie thinks that if Miyeon deems this is all an Uno game, then she'll try her best to be a wild card.