Archive of Our Own ^beta

On her wedding day, Hyojin does not cry. 

Hyojin doesn’t cry often, and almost never in the presence of others. On her wedding day, she doesn’t cry in the morning, doesn’t cry as her mother helps her get ready. She just barely manages to not cry as Seungjun sees her off, staying just after her mother leaves to hold Hyojin in her arms, comforting and firm. She doesn’t cry during the vows or at the reception, though her heart wells with complicated emotions as her mother gives a speech. 

She doesn’t cry on her wedding day, but she starts to feel sick to her stomach just after leaving the reception, retiring to the large apartment she’s shared with Changyun for some months now. When they enter their bedroom together and meet each other's eyes, they’re like mirror images of each other; wide and wondering and fearful. 

They have never slept together. Hyojin gave some half-hearted excuse when they started dating about wanting to wait until marriage, and Changyun had quickly agreed. It was never an issue for him. But now there’s this pressure, this expectation. This above all other expectations of the day is crushing in on her. And perhaps Changyun is no different, because his eyes seem to hold just as much hesitancy as hers. 

Hyojin does what she does best then; she takes control of the situation. She is married now, and as long as she can make this keep working, as long as she can find desire in her heart for this man, she will live out her days peacefully, just like everyone else. She begins pulling Changyun’s tie off, watching his expression. He looks like he also wants this, terrified as he is. 

“What are you so scared for?” Hyojin asks, attempting to look and feel as strong as she can. 

“I mean, you know… I haven’t done this before,” Changyun explains. Hyojin has moved to unbuttoning his shirt now, and Changyun helps by untucking it. 

Hyojin kisses Changyun with practiced ease. Changyun has always been different; he’s kind, and careful. Hyojin had outright refused to kiss him for months into their relationship and unlike past partners, he had complied easily. Hyojin sets many boundaries just like that one all the time and Changyun hardly bats an eye at any of them. He listens well. All this to say, it’s not hard to kiss him anymore. 

Changyun relaxes somewhat, shirt splayed open revealing a white tank top underneath. He lets it slide down his arms, falling to the floor. When they part, he has a look in his eyes, something yearning and deep. Hyojin is terrified. 

“Get me out of this stupid dress,” she says, quickly turning around to hide her mortified face. The stiff fabric and lace was never her idea— her mother picked it out, just like everything else in the wedding. Hyojin hates most dresses, especially big formal ones like these, but there were no other options. A wedding must have a wedding dress. Ironically, she finds herself clinging to the fabric, wishing desperately to keep it on. It’s her last barrier between her bare skin and this intimate act. 

Changyun unzips the back of the dress, beginning to push it down Hyojin’s arms and torso. Hyojin feels sweat pooling in her palms. She can hardly move. 

Changyun helps her out of the garment completely. He leads her to the bed. He is every bit the gentleman he always is. 

“Why do you look so scared?” Changyun asks, genuine concern in his expression. 

“Same as you,” Hyojin responds. 

“You know, we don’t… have to do this,” Changyun slowly starts. “I want to, of course, but… if you don’t want to, I don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Hyojin answers a little too fast. 

“I— I really do,” she corrects, slowing down. She puts a hand on his arm, reassuring. She needs to do this. She needs to want this. She can hardly move. 

Changyun tries to touch her, to bring them both into the haze of sex, to make any of this feel less strange. Hyojin finds herself in a trance-like state. They go from a sitting position to a laying one, and Changyun looks so much larger hovering over her like this. Condoms and lube are retrieved and prepared. By the time she feels him breaching her insides, she’s already far enough outside of her body that she doesn’t notice her own reaction. It’s not until Changyun scrambles off of her that she realizes there are tears in her eyes.

“Okay, no. This— we can’t do this,” he says, voice shaking.  

Hyojin does not cry on her wedding day. But her wedding night gets her.

Changyun cries too, just as soon as he sees Hyojin’s tears, and Hyojin would feel terrible if this fact weren’t also strangely comforting. 

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, it’s not your fault, I also—”

The two speak over each other. 

“I think we both just… weren’t ready for this,” Changyun concludes.

“Right,” Hyojin agrees, voice shaking involuntarily. “We can work our way up to it.”

They shower separately, and Hyojin tries to pull her soul back into her body under the hot water. The dull, constant undercurrent of self-hatred she always feels is louder now, biting and sharp. She kind of feels disgusting, kind of can’t stand the sight of her own nudity in the mirror. But when they sleep that night, they sleep together. Hyojin wraps herself around Changyun like she sometimes likes to do. She wants to tell him it’s not his fault, that there’s something broken inside her, and she’s trying to use him to glue it back together. 

Changyun is so kind. It has to work eventually. 

Changyun doesn’t think he’s ever loved a woman more than he loves Hyojin. She’s paradoxical in many ways. Changyun’s hands are small, but Hyojin’s are somehow smaller, and they fit into his like a puzzle piece. Her face is round and squishy, but her eyes are sharp and severe. They match her distinct hairstyle, shorter than Changyun’s and jet black. The short cut allows her frankly masculine, square jaw to be shown off rather than hidden. Changyun loves her strong jaw just about as much as he loves her sharp nose, the most distinctive part of her side profile. It’s a breathtaking side profile, and he sees it often— sitting beside her in the car, on the couch, laying together in bed. 

And she’s shy. She’s skittish around strangers— polite, but short and unfriendly. She was like this with Changyun too, when they first met. Changyun thought she hated him with the cruel way she made fun of him around their friends. That was until he had driven her home though, and she pulled him in by his shirt collar for a hard, mean kiss though. And that was the flavor her affection would continue to take on throughout their relationship: mean. She likes to tease and push and hit a little too hard. She likes to belittle and humiliate him to their friends. But in private, their intimacy is a quiet, peaceful sort of thing. It is privately shared moments of stillness, gentle looks, small gestures. She’s so much more kind when they’re alone. 

Changyun doesn’t think he’s ever loved a woman more than he loves Hyojin. These days, Changyun has been wondering if he’s ever loved a woman at all. 

He works long hours as a creative director. Those hours have only gotten longer and longer lately. When he talks about it with Hyojin, he presents it like he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. In reality, he could just release some of this work to his colleagues. The design agency is growing rapidly, but his boss is not particularly cruel, not enough to make him work the hours he’s been taking on. 

Changyun has been putting puzzle pieces together— confusing feelings from his childhood, friends he liked a little bit too much, sexual experiences that never quite lined up. There are some more embarrassing, recent moments as well. Gym visits with Jaeyoung. Men in locker rooms, on benches, laying under heavy barbells and lifting, sweating, groaning—

There’s no reason for this to be coming about now, but it is. It feels new, and it feels like it’s always been here. An invisible elephant in the room. 

Changyun always thought he just needed to find the right person. He thought he did find the right person. He has had sex with Hyojin, albeit less than he assumes the average married couple tends to. But he’s not so sure any more. He’s not sure of anything. 

He can’t face Hyojin like this. So, he avoids her like the plague. He buries himself in his work. 

Hyojin spends a lot of time alone these days. At first she feels relieved, and then she feels sick to her stomach. A useless wife— that phrase reverberates in her head to fill the silence of her home. It’s spoken in the voice of her mother, scornful and judgmental as Hyojin breaks the news that she and Changyun do not, in fact, plan on having children. 

“How’d you convince him to agree to this?” was her mother’s first question on that gloomy spring day, as they sat in a minimalist cafe eating overpriced salads.

“I didn’t. It was a mutual decision,” she answers, avoiding the pointed eye contact. Her mother scoffs. 

“As if…” she mutters under her breath. Hyojin grits her teeth, but endures it. Arguing has never gotten them anywhere. “Hyojin, I was so relieved when you decided to marry Changyun. He’s a good man. If you… if this destroys your marriage, you can say goodbye to any inheritance from your grandparents. And I won’t be helping you out of that mess either.”

“Ruins— mom, I’m not lying. Changyun and I talked about it and we both have the same perspective. He’d rather focus on his career than have any children, and I feel the same. And I’ve always known I… I wouldn’t be a good mother. So we both decided it would be best to not have children,” Hyojin explains truthfully. Or, mostly truthfully. The additional information that she can rarely bring herself to have sex with Changyun anymore is none of her mother’s business. 

Her mother doesn’t appear satisfied by that answer— nothing ever satisfies her. 

“Fine. But if he ever changes his mind or threatens to leave you, you’ll have to put your feelings on the matter aside. I mean really, he’s a handsome, successful guy. Why would he settle for such a useless wife?”

A useless wife. She feels that way often, even more now that Changyun is always gone. Changyun is a kind man, but even he is only a man. Hyojin has never given him much affection, sexual or otherwise. She’s always been cold and cruel to him. Overly masculine, and overly independent. Perhaps this is the culmination of that. He works late, five, sometimes six days a week now. Hyojin used to come home at six o’clock every evening. Now she wonders if she should start working overtime as well, like she used to before Changyun admitted he was sad that they never ate dinner together. The stillness of the apartment is becoming unbearable. She feels restless, unsettled. She can’t stop thinking about what her mother said.

“I’m sorry,” Changyun apologizes when she finally brings it up to him. “Work has been so busy lately… you don’t have to wait up for me, you know. We just scored a pretty big deal with a fashion brand, so I don’t know when things will slow down again.”

And that would be fine. She would eat her dinner alone in peace, enjoy her evenings by herself if she really had to. But she can’t stand it. She starts getting short with him, spending more time by herself, keeping their conversations to a minimum so he knows she’s upset with him. 

The ring on her finger is searingly hot. Her family’s eyes line the baseboards of their apartment. She always knew she’d fail at this eventually. If she finds out that Changyun is actually unsatisfied, that he’s not at work, but rather…

When the silence becomes too overwhelming, when the anxieties pile up, she calls Seungjun. 

“Are my eyes tricking me? Did that caller ID say Kim Hyojin?” Seungjun picks up the phone, speaking dramatically. 

“Shut up, why are you acting like I never call you? I called you just last week,” Hyojin rolls her eyes, though Seungjun can’t see it over the phone. 

“A week without you is a week too long,” Seungjun sighs. Hyojin can’t hold back the sharp laugh that bursts through her lips. 

“Okay that’s it, I’m hanging up—”

“No, no, talk to me! What’s up? Why are you calling?” Seungjun asks genuinely. 

“I… you can’t make fun of me, okay?” Hyojin starts. 

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best,” Seungjun replies, her voice painted with a smile. Hyojin takes a deep breath. 

“Changyun’s been working late a lot. And… he goes out a bit on the weekends so… I mean, it’s not like I don’t believe him, but I’m not really a perfect w-wife or anything, so… you see him at the office sometimes, right? Has he actually been uh… working late? Is he really there?” She asks, her voice beginning to shake halfway through. She hadn’t meant to get so emotional, but she feels like she’s going to be sick. 

“Oh, Jinnie…” Seungjun’s voice turns serious. “Yeah, I see him around some nights. I can’t tell you much though, since I’m not usually there that late. But I had a nighttime photo shoot last week and he was definitely at the office when I stopped by at like… seven o’clock?” 

“Okay. Okay, sorry, I know I’m being crazy, but—”

“No, hey, I don’t think you’re crazy. Do you want me to tell him off for you? Tell him to go home more often?” Seungjun asks. 

“No! No, definitely not, that’s… I don’t mind it really. I just thought it was weird.”

“Well, maybe we should hang out! If he’s not around, then he can’t get mad at me for being loud and wrecking your house,” Seungjun proposes. Hyojin laughs. 

“I’ll get mad at you if you wreck our house. But… it’s fine if you wanna come,” Hyojin agrees. 

“Great! How about… Thursday? I don’t have any shoots or anything that day.”

“Thursday works for me. I’ll be home around six.”

“Perfect!” Seungjun exclaims. “I can’t wait to see you.”

Changyun comes home to a dark apartment. Hyojin has already turned out the lights, save for a lamp in the living room where she watches TV. 

“I’m back,” he says over the quiet murmurs of the television.

“Welcome home,” Hyojin says, without even looking up from the screen. 

Changyun stands in the entryway for a moment, watching the way the pale blue light sharpens her profile. The bridge of her nose is pronounced and sharp. Her eyelashes are long. Underneath the anxiety and pain, this feeling in Changyun’s chest… he would still call it love. Of course it’s love. It has to be, or else…

Shoes finally off, bag deposited on the shelf by the door, he approaches her. She finally looks up at him right as he lays his hand on her shoulder, leaning down to give her a small peck on the lips. Her bare skin under his hand, the ghost of her lips on his, every element feels foreign and wrong now. It feels like kissing a stranger. Has it always felt like this?

“What was that for?” Hyojin asks. 

“Sorry. Sorry I’ve been… gone,” he apologizes. 

“Whatever. It’s fine,” Hyojin says, stilted. It’s that tone she gets when she’s mad, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. Changyun has never been good at approaching her when she’s like this, he’s never been good at this relationship thing in general. 

Changyun sighs in presupposed defeat, letting his hand fall off of her shoulder as he retreats to the bedroom to get changed. 

The bed in their room is large, large enough that they can sleep completely separate from each other, without even touching. And they often do— nowadays, Hyojin always complains about the feeling of his body against hers, how it makes her hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. So, he stopped reaching for her. 

That’s normal, Changyun thinks. 

As he strips and redresses into his house clothes, the sight of his body in the long mirror in the corner is unsettling. It’s a body that can’t do much of anything, a figure he has a bubbling feeling of resentment towards. He’s never been a very good husband. Not in the romantic or sexual or even monetary sense— Hyojin is a scientist, she studies the stars. Changyun is just a glorified graphic designer. His pay is nothing in comparison to hers. What does he contribute?

When he had kissed her in the car on that night all those years ago, it had felt so right. Her pointed, confident eyes were deepened by the romantic warmth of the streetlights. It finally made sense— he had never loved another woman before, but in that moment, he loved her. Like he’d been waiting, saving his love for her. Thank goodness, he remembers thinking. Thank goodness, he might be capable of loving someone after all. 

Was it her short hair? Her strong jaw and masculine clothing? Had he been fooling himself all along, using her?

When he emerges from their bedroom, face washed of makeup and the grime of the day, he sits close to her on the couch. She’s watching a documentary, something about a spacecraft launch. He places his hand on top of hers and she finally reciprocates, threading their fingers together. Her hand is warm and it’s just as small as his, just as soft. Maybe if he can just… if he can just remember what it was like before… maybe if he can just remember his desire for Hyojin, how it feels to be close to her… it’s been so long, after all.

Changyun leans over her lap, places his arm against the armrest, boxing her in. She looks at him, a little surprised. 

“Yes?” She asks. 

“I, uh… well, I know I’m not always the perfect husband, but… I just think, it’s been a while since we did… anything, and so you must be kinda… like, you have needs too, and I’m not really filling them, so if you want…” Changyun rambles on and on and Hyojin’s face is mostly unreadable, but Changyun thinks he spies a hint of discomfort in her face, something awkward and tense. 

“Changyun, I… it was a long day at the lab, I’m not really—”

“Okay! Okay no, that’s totally fine I just. I wanted to offer. It’s uh, yeah. I had a long day too,” Changyun scrambles to say. Hyojin has turned down intimacy many times, but it’s never made Changyun feel quite as embarrassed as he feels now. 

Changyun moves off of her. He tries to let go of her hand but surprisingly, she doesn’t release his fingers, holding him firmly. This is normal, Changyun thinks. They’re a different sort of couple, is all. There’s nothing embarrassing about a no, not when you’re married. It doesn’t mean you’re a terrible husband or that your wife wants to leave you or that she can tell you’re a fucking queer and she’s just humoring you. 

No. This is normal, Changyun reminds himself. 

When it gets late enough that Changyun starts to doze off, head lulling to rest on Hyojin’s shoulder, they begin to move towards the bedroom. Once there, Changyun goes about his normal routine, turning out the lights and crawling under the covers. Hyojin is brushing her teeth, but Changyun already did that earlier. He leaves the lamp on her side of the bed on. 

When Hyojin walks back to the bed, she turns out her lamp. Instead of getting in bed like usual though, she crawls over Changyun, straddling his hips, hands on either side of his head. It’s so dark, he can barely see any of her facial features, but he can see that she’s already shed her pants, and she’s down to just her tank top and underwear.

“Do you still want to?” Hyojin asks. Changyun can’t hear an ounce of any particular emotion in her voice. This is his chance, he thinks.

He nods. 

Hyojin leans down for a kiss— the one romantic thing they both seem to enjoy. It’s not a very deep one though, and she still feels foreign and strange against his skin, against his lips. 

From there, Hyojin does most of the work. Changyun used to try to touch her, but she always made her distaste for his advances obvious. Hyojin wrestles his sweatpants down just enough and moves things along. Changyun holds her hips, moving along with her, but…

After a long, awkward process, Hyojin finally pulls away and speaks up. 

“Changyun, do you… sorry, but you’re barely even hard, do you really want this?” She asks. 

“I… well… I just wanted to do it for you, I— I’ve been away a lot and…” Changyun sheepishly trails off. This has never happened before. At the very least… the physical sensation is usually enough for him to just…

Hyojin runs an exasperated hand through her hair and quickly crawls off of his lap and back to her side of the bed. 

“You’re so ridiculous, when have I ever— if I needed something like that so badly, wouldn’t I just ask? Not everyone is as passive as you, you know,” Hyojin starts, voice taking a more scolding tone. Changyun has never felt more mortified in his life. He pulls his pants back on, disgusted mostly with himself. 

“I’m sorry I just thought… I’m your husband right? Shouldn’t I do this much, at least?” It’s true what he’s saying, though there was a second thought in his head— the thought that he needed to try again because surely, surely he loves Hyojin in this way. He’s had sex with her before. That he can’t even do much anymore only further cements his fears, the fog of doom creeping up on him. 

“Don’t patronize me,” Hyojin bites back. “I told you, I don’t care if you work late, I don’t care if you want to go out by yourself on the weekends, and I don’t care if you don’t want to have sex! Why are you trying to force yourself, that’s so…” 

The silence where her sentence lingers is deafening. Changyun wants to cry, but he can’t stand to cry in front of her. She’s so strong, so stoic, so independent. He can’t do this for her, can’t do anything he should be able to do. 

They sleep in that silence, and when Changyun wakes up in the morning, she’s gone. Left for work earlier than usual, he assumes. He cries then.

“I brought ice cream! Quick, let me in before it melts!” Seungjun shouts over the intercom. Hyojin shuffles over to the door, letting her inside. 

“Hyojin! I’m so happy to see you!” Seungjun exclaims, opening her arms for a hug. Hyojin swings at her instead. She flinches but can’t dodge away, making a small oof sound as Hyojin’s fist collides lightly with her stomach.

“Okay, fine, I guess if you hate me so much, I’ll just eat all this ice cream and drink all of this soda by myself,” Seungjun pouts, trying to walk past Hyojin and enter the house. 

“Oh no you don’t. Ice cream tax,” Hyojin says, grabbing her arm to intercept the bag. Seungjun tries to struggle out of her grip, but Hyojin gets her other hand in the bag and starts digging around to choose her treat. She pulls out a strawberry crunch bar, one of her favorites, and Seungjun finally relents, letting her take the whole bag. 

“There’s a chocolate ice cream in there for Changyun too, put it in the freezer,” Seungjun calls as Hyojin retreats into the apartment. Hyojin obeys, putting the ice cream away and bringing the rest of the bag back to the coffee table in the living room, where Seungjun has already made herself at home on the couch. She’s dressed down this evening, only wearing a baggy white sweater and her favorite pair of tiny red shorts. Her blonde hair is tied up into a quick ponytail. Her legs are long, smooth and pale and clean shaven. Her shins and knees are mysteriously bruised, as they usually are. 

“Did you seriously taxi out here dressed like that? It’s still so cold out, winter is barely over. Do you think you’re here to have some kind of sleepover? I’m sending you home after this you know,” Hyojin immediately lectures. Seungjun grins stupidly up at Hyojin, words rolling off of her like water. 

“You don’t want me to sleep here? We can sleep in your big bed like we did when we were kids. I’m sure there’s enough room for all three of us. I’m more fun to cuddle than Changyun anyway,” Seungjun starts. 

“Your bony ass? I'd rather cuddle a coat rack, at least it wouldn’t get grabby,” Hyojin retorts. Seungjun laughs in that lovely way she does, squeezing her eyes shut, throwing her head back. The exposed length of her neck is just as long and pale as her legs. She’s pale everywhere, like she always is after winter. It’s the end of March now. By June, Seungjun will be warmer, toasted golden. For now, she looks as cold as ice, as soft as freshly fallen snow. 

“Did you already eat?” Seungjun asks. 

“No, I only just got home. Do you wanna order chicken?” Hyojin suggests.

“That sounds great. Fried chicken and ice cream. Let’s do makeovers and paint each other’s nails, make this a proper girl’s night. We even have a boy to gossip about,” Seungjun quips. Hyojin rolls her eyes. 

“Changyun? You’re too mean to him,” Hyojin argues weakly. 

“That’s my job though, someone needs to be in your corner. And anyway, he’s too easy to bully. Poor, pathetic little guy,” Seungjun sighs with mock sympathy. Hyojin almost drops her phone laughing as she orders their food. 

“God, he really is… I mean, I don’t wanna be mean, but it’s hard to not like, pity him. He’s been so nervous lately? And then yesterday… oh god I shouldn’t even tell you,” Hyojin hesitates. 

“What, what? Oh god you have to tell me now,” Seungjun leans forward. 

“Well… you really can’t let him know I told you anything about this though. Nothing at all, okay?” Seungjun nods. 

“So, last night, Changyun was just being a bit weird? He kissed me when he got home and he looked all sad… then we were watching TV and he like, propositioned me?” Hyojin begins the story. 

“Like, for sex? What do you mean ‘propositioned’, you’re married,” Seungjun laughs in confusion. 

“Yeah but… since we don’t do that very often, it was just… I mean, he and I are both just awkward about sex, but he was just so much more weird about it than usual. So I said no, because I just wasn’t really… I don’t like doing it very much anyway. But then, when we were laying down for bed, I figured I could just quickly… quickly do something. But he— oh god. Seungjun, he couldn’t get hard at all. It was so embarrassing. And then, do you know what he said?” Hyojin asks. 

“What? Oh god, what?” Seungjun asks, eyes wide and eager. 

“He said he was just trying to do it for my sake! Because he hasn’t been around! I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever been the type to be so needy like that, right? When would I have ever given him the impression that he needs to… to force himself to…” Hyojin trails off. Seungjun’s laughter diminishes but it doesn’t end. 

“Oh Hyojin, that’s the saddest fucking thing, poor guy… and such a shitty thing to do to you…” Seungjun smiles crookedly. 

“Right? I mean, I feel bad for the guy, but what a terrible thing to do to both of us! I don’t care if he never wants to have sex ever again! He shouldn’t try to if he really can’t make himself,” Hyojin rants. Seungjun curls her feet up underneath herself, holding her head up with one hand as her elbow rests on the back of the couch. 

“Never? You really don’t care about sex that much? I dunno if I could date a girl who never wanted to have sex. It’s fun, it’s a fun way to get closer to someone.”

“Well… I mean sex is fine, but I’m just not as into it as you are. Changyun too, he just isn’t in the mood for it very often. It works fine for us, everyone is different,” Hyojin squirms, automatically defending their relationship. 

“Okay, if you say so,” Seungjun concedes, but she has a look on her face. It’s not the same judgement that everyone else throws at her though, it’s something knowing and suspicious, something that makes Hyojin sweat, nervous. After such a long friendship, Seungjun knows Hyojin too well, has seen her in all manner of vulnerable positions. An image flashes through Hyojin’s mind, a memory from a high school sleepover with Seungjun, Seungjun on top of her, leaning down to—

Hyojin firmly shoves the image out of her mind. It feels like Seungjun is telepathic, and she needs to hide her thoughts from her. It feels like Seungjun is seeing right through her. She always is, always has. 

“Sorry, I’m only talking about myself. How have you been, has work been chaotic? Seems like things are busy, from what Changyun’s said,” Hyojin changes the subject. 

“Oh, work is whatever, there’s not nearly as much interesting stuff going on in my life as there apparently is in yours. It’s busy, but just more of the same. I barely have any time to go out these days,” Seungjun complains. 

“What are you doing here then?” Hyojin asks. 

“Well I can always make time for you,” Seungjun giggles. 

“God, shut up,” Hyojin groans, shoving at her shoulder. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something? The food should be here in a little bit.”

“Are there any good movies you wanted to watch though? I’m honestly more interested in your marriage drama right now,” Seungjun jokes. 

“I already told you everything, there’s nothing more to say about it. Come on, that new superhero movie is on streaming now. Let’s watch that.

Changyun returns home to a familiar lump on the couch— Hyojin’s had a bad habit of falling asleep in front of the TV lately, and it seems like tonight is no different. 

Or that’s what he thinks, until a blonde woman sits up and scares him half to death. 

“Seungjun! You— she didn’t tell me you were coming over,” Changyun says, immediately recognizing her. She just holds a finger to her lips, shushing him. 

“Dinnie is sleeping,” she whispers. Changyun nods, putting away his work bag and leaving the entryway. 

“Are you staying the night? He asks.

“Nah. I’ll get out of here,” she whispers back, climbing off of Hyojin.

She puts herself back together silently, and right before leaving, she peers at Changyun from the door. 

“Take care of her for me,” she whisper-shouts. Changyun can’t make out her facial expression in the darkness of the living room. Besides the bright silhouette of her sweater and hair, Seungjun is a dark pit of swirling colors and patterns. Changyun gives her a thumbs up and she finally leaves. 

Hyojin barely registers Seungjun’s voice as she slips in and out of sleep. Seungjun is hovering over her, glowing blue in the light of the TV. She’s looking at something just past the couch, saying something Hyojin can’t understand. Hyojin’s mind wanders back to high school again, now unbound by the hangups of the waking world. It goes back to that sleepover, when the house was still and dark and Seungjun had confessed something to her—

“I… oh god, how do I say this? I… I kissed someone,” Seungjun whispered. 

“What? Who?” Hyojin asked, feeling uneasy, though unable to pinpoint why. 

“That’s the thing… You know Jihye? The cute, shy girl with those big glasses?”

“Yeah?” Hyojin answered, waiting for her to continue. Seungjun didn’t say a single other word, just looked at her expectantly. “Wait… you don’t mean…”

Seungjun nodded. “Hyojin, I really like girls. I’ve never wanted anything like that from a guy. But when I kissed her it… it all made sense.”

Hyojin sat in shocked silence long enough to see the excited expression on Seungjun’s face falter a little. 

“What? What’s wrong? I’m sorry, I just thought—” Seungjun began, attempting to explain herself. 

“No, wait, I’m not upset! I just didn’t expect it. I mean… you’re so popular, there are so many boys that like you, like… How can you be sure?” Hyojin asked, trying to verbalize the strange, unwell feeling inside of her. 

“Well, I wasn’t sure either, until I kissed her. I don’t think… I don’t like like her or anything. And anyway, she got kinda freaked out afterwards and she just ran off. But… it just felt so right. I don’t want a boy like that, any boy,” she explained, shy grin slowly growing across her face. She looked bright and refreshed despite her obvious nerves. Hyojin wanted that brightness too, felt herself growing towards it like a sunflower. 

“That’s… that’s really great,” was all Hyojin could say. Seungjun was always the more brave, the more loved by all those around her. Getting a girl to kiss her was probably no problem at all. Hyojin felt bitter at her own inadequate personality. 

“…But you don’t seem to really think it’s great though?” Seungjun prodded. 

“No, what do you mean? I’m happy for you,” Hyojin argued. 

“I don’t think you are though. You’re not jealous are you?” Seungjun asked.

“No! What? No!” 

“You are, you totally are!” Seungjun laughed with glee. “Oh my god, why? You know you’re my best friend. Jihye is cute but I’m not close with her like I am with you.”

“I’m not— I’m not upset about that!” Hyojin argued. 

“But you are upset, you’re jealous about something!” Seungjun continued. “Wait… are you jealous I kissed a girl?”

“You— huh? Wh— no, n-no I just—“

“Do you want to try?”

This finally managed to shut Hyojin up for a moment. Seungjun… would she really…

And Seungjun must have taken her silence as an admission of guilt, because she reached a gentle hand up to cup Hyojin’s cheek. 

“You know… if you just wanna try it… I could just…” Seungjun began leaning closer. Hyojin could barely breathe, eyes wide, stomach fluttering with a swarm of angry butterflies. In a rare fit of bravery, she surged forward. 

That night, Hyojin kissed Seungjun. And kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her. Seungjun reciprocated in full force, excitement lacing each movement. And it was messy and new and thrilling in that way that all first kisses are. Hyojin pulled Seungjun closer until she was practically on top of her. When they finally broke the kiss, Hyojin fell back onto the bed to look up in awe at her best friend. Illuminated by only the streetlights outside, she looked like an abstract painting of the most beautiful girl in the world. 

The person who hovered over Hyojin then was just a girl— bright eyes and baby-fat cheeks, dark hair, childish bangs cut thick and blunt like a mushroom cap. The person on top of her now is sharper and more defined, pastel toned like a ghost. A woman. Hyojin wonders for a moment as her eyelids slip shut if she would kiss differently now, better than she did when they were kids. Surely she would. 

A different voice registers as her mind slips back into slumber. A man’s voice, soft, barely above a whisper. Your husband, Hyojin’s brain supplies. It hurts in the same way her mother’s hand had weeks later, a stinging pain against her cheek. She falls asleep with the tingling sensation of an old scratch on her cheekbone, her mothers wedding ring crossing her face. 

In the morning, she wakes up in her own bed. Beside her, Changyun is fast asleep. She feels nothing for the soft slope of his shoulders, the slight tone of his bare back, exposed where the duvet has fallen lower. There was a time when she felt some friendly sort of affection for him. But even that feeling has soured and curdled over time, milk gone stale with time and frustration. She feels no love for him, not anymore. All she feels is a deep, painful mourning for the hopeful little girl she was all those years ago, a heavy resentment for the cold marital bed she sleeps in. 

At the office, Changyun can always find extra work to do to justify his late nights. Editing photos and assisting with graphic design projects is where he finds his joy the most, but he also sends lots of emails, fills out reports, makes write ups on visual concepts or offers edits to those made by his colleagues. It can be a slog to get through everything sometimes, but he counts himself lucky that he gets to use his creativity so much in his profession. And besides, taking on extra work is better than the crushing guilt he feels around Hyojin these days. 

On this particular evening, Changyun is recharging in the break room, making what he promises himself is his last coffee of the night. It’s kind of peaceful, staying at the office this late. Very few people are around and very few lights are on. The constant murmur and shuffle of the daytime has ceased. 

The coffee finishes brewing and Changyun takes his cup, heading for the door. As he reaches for the handle though, it turns on its own. 

The collision happens all at once. Coffee goes everywhere, as does the paper cup that contained it. Changyun feels a body against his, and then he doesn’t. 

“Shit, ow!” Changyun hears, and in front of him, a young man is sprawled on the floor in a puddle of hot coffee. 

“Who— wh— are you okay?” Changyun shouts. His own chest burns, having absorbed some of the splash of coffee, but the young man’s situation is much worse than his own. The coffee is all down his shirt and dress pants. 

“Do I look okay?” He asks sarcastically, snapping Changyun out of his startled state. 

“N-no!” Changyun realizes, and runs back into the break room to grab a roll of paper towels. He brings them back and immediately kneels down to try to pat the coffee out of the man’s shirt. 

Except first of all, he’s not really sure how to get coffee out of a dress shirt. And second of all, the guy definitely isn’t wearing an undershirt. The coffee dyes the thin white shirt into a transparent brown. Despite his petite stature, Changyun can see the outline of abs on his stomach. 

The man catches Changyun’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away. Changyun lets him, looking back up at his face. It’s a handsome face, Changyun realizes, with a strong nose and jaw, and big, shiny eyes. The expression on his face isn’t nearly as upset as it should be. It’s not a happy face, but he seems slightly amused, raising an eyebrow at Changyun. Changyun is speechless, and he feels his face begin to heat up. He notices their position, himself hovering over the other man. Their legs aren’t touching, but one of his knees is planted between the other man’s thighs. 

“That’s not helping,” the man comments, letting go of Changyun’s wrist. He doesn’t move to get up or push him away. He lays where he is, holding Changyun’s gaze with a little too much power, intent indecipherable. 

“Who— do I know you?” Is all Changyun can think to ask, still petrified. 

“Nah. I’m new. Mizuguchi Yuto. I work in photography,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand for a handshake. Changyun looks at his own hand, and sees that it’s still gripping a handful of paper towels. He places them awkwardly on the ground. 

“Lee Changyun. Creative director,” he replies, returning the handshake. 

Yuto shakes his hand firmly and doesn’t let go. 

“I see. Well, I’m just a photography assistant. Why are you here so late?”

“…Paperwork?” Changyun replies, and Yuto laughs. 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“Sorry, just… I’m doing a lot of things.”

“I understand. Say, director…” Yuto starts, propping himself up on his hand rather than his elbow, inadvertently pushing his face a touch closer to Changyun’s. “Are you gonna let me get out of this puddle of coffee anytime soon?”

“Oh!” Changyun shouts, jumping to his feet. Yuto begins to get up as well, and Changyun thinks he should offer him a hand, but he’s too nervous to touch him, too scared that this boy will see through him. His hands flutter about indecisively as Yuto pulls himself off the ground. 

“This is gonna be such a pain to clean…” Yuto mutters to himself, looking at his button up and suit. The coffee stain on his shirt is the worst of it, but it also splashed onto his blazer and soaked into his slacks while they were on the ground. 

“I can cover your dry cleaning,” Changyun immediately offers. “It was my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Oh yeah? Creative director like you, I suppose you would have some disposable income,” Yuto says in a tone that’s… could it be… flirting? 

“Uhh… yeah, I…” Changyun has no idea what to do with himself. Yuto laughs at him. 

“It’s fine, no need. You’ve got your own problem to worry about there,” Yuto replies. He places a hand on Changyun’s chest, tracing the coffee stain on his shirt with light, teasing fingertips. Changyun sucks in a breath. Is this kid… is he really…?

“Yuto!” Calls an all-too-familiar voice, knocking Changyun out of his mental spiral. He quickly takes a full step away from Yuto, looking around to find the source of the noise. At the door, he sees Seungjun charging into the room with cameras and duffel bags and all manner of photography equipment in tow. 

“Oh? Changyun? Hey, wait, what did you do to my assistant?” She asks accusingly. 

“Nothing!” Changyun shouts automatically, before realizing that it only makes him look guiltier. He can feel his palms sweating. What if Seungjun saw? What if Yuto tells her about what just happened? Will Changyun get taken to HR? Will Seungjun tell Hyojin?

“Just… bumped into him and… sorry,” Changyun tries to explain. Seungjun laughs. 

“Oh god, the office klutz strikes again. Watch out for this one Yuto, he doesn’t know right from left, and he breaks everything he touches,” she teases. Changyun would normally feel a little offended by her harsh teasing, but all he feels now is relief. So she didn’t see anything strange. 

“So I’m gathering,” Yuto comments. His eyes flick from Seungjun back to Changyun and Changyun thinks for sure he still sees a hint of interest in them. Changyun looks away from Yuto. 

“Well, now you’ve met my new assistant. Yuto, we should get going soon, it’s late. Are you gonna head out too, Changyun?” Seungjun asks. 

“Well, I guess I have to now,” Changyun looks down at his ruined shirt, frowning. 

“Oh, don’t make a face. You have a beautiful wife waiting for you, you’re lucky to go home to that,” Seungjun says with mocking strictness. 

“Relax, I’m just upset about the shirt,” Changyun grumbles. He looks up at Yuto to check his reaction to that tidbit of information, only to find Yuto staring back with the same casual, nonchalant interest. Changyun wonders if this is just his normal resting face. It’s intense enough that he feels himself blushing. 

“M’kay,” Seungjun brushes him off. “We’ll see you later, drive safe,” Seungjun says, handing off a few bags to Yuto. The pair start moving towards the door. 

“See you,” Changyun replies. He stands still, staring at their backs until they’re gone. Then, he runs a tired, embarrassed hand over his face. Yuto, huh?

On his commute home, Changyun stews in the uncomfortable mix of emotions, panic and interest and self-disgust brewing a terrible concoction in his stomach. The image of Yuto’s body sprawled on the floor underneath him haunts his mind. It’s the way he’d looked up at Changyun through his eyelashes like he was daring him to do something, it fills Changyun’s thoughts, driving him crazy. 

He can still feel the light touch of fingertips dancing across his chest. The sheer audacity of the kid, to… to hit on him so openly. Changyun could’ve easily been a less kind person, could’ve been someone terrible who would try to destroy a junior employee’s career over such a brazen, queer action. 

Could he see it in Changyun? Something mirroring his interest? Did he know Changyun would let him get away with it? Was Changyun really not as subtle as he thought?

In the privacy of his own car, Changyun groans loudly in frustration. 

When he arrives home, he greets Hyojin with the same lack of energy as usual. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t even look to see his stained clothes, so he saves himself the embarrassment of explaining himself by going straight to the bedroom and changing. 

As he does so, he thinks of Yuto’s chest, his coffee-stained shirt clinging to it. Getting into the shower, he traces the ghost of Yuto’s touch with his own hand. His chest is a little burnt from the coffee, and so his body jolts in both pain and excitement. 

Changyun imagines himself as a braver man, imagines placing his hand on Yuto’s chest in return, imagines pinning him to the ground where they had sat, covered in coffee. He imagines the desire in Yuto’s eyes lighting up with excitement. 

He imagines Yuto’s delicate touch trailing lower than his chest, unbuttoning his pants and lightly stroking him. Changyun tries to mimic the thought, grabbing onto himself with his free hand and stroking with all the restraint and lightness he can muster. He imagines Yuto grinding against his thigh in those tightly fitting slacks. He imagines what his face would look like tensed with pleasure, the way his soft voice would groan and shudder. He imagines unbuttoning Yuto’s shirt and exposing his narrow, flat chest. He imagines what it would feel like to get his mouth on it. It wouldn’t feel especially soft. No, it would feel harder, more muscle and less fat. The body of a man. His abs, his arms, contoured and masculine. Unable to restrain himself any further, Changyun’s hand moves faster and he spills out onto the shower wall. 

Pleasure explodes through him in a way he isn’t used to. It’s big and bright and all-encompassing, a full-bodied feeling instead of the quick and simple sensation he’s used to. He can’t help but allow a small whine to pass through his lips. 

Changyun comes back to himself slowly. The droning white noise of the shower makes the bathroom feel all the more empty. Changyun feels incredible until he feels awful, until he feels like he might throw up. There is a woman out there on his couch, a woman he has tied his entire life to. Changyun feels more disgusting than garbage. The come on the tile wall is pathetic and gross. 

It’s cheating, in a way, he thinks. Hyojin doesn’t deserve this. She has poured so much kindness and consideration and love into this marriage, trying just as desperately as Changyun to make it work. It’s been a peaceful thing, a constant, steady thing. And now Changyun is just going to ruin it by losing his head over a boy at work. 

Changyun mentally debates over whether he should go out to the living room as usual, not wanting to face her with this heinous feeling inside him. But he doesn’t want her to think anything is wrong, doesn’t want her to ask any questions. So, he emerges from their bathroom and returns to her side on the couch. She’s watching another documentary. 

“Hey, I’m going out to get dinner with Seungjun tomorrow,” Hyojin tells him as he sits beside her. “We might go drinking too, so I might just crash at her place. Just so you know.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah.”

“What, uh… what are you watching?” He tries. 

“Oh, it’s this documentary thing about how like… we know there’s water on the moon. But the crazy thing is, we can’t actually find it,” Hyojin begins, and her words seem to flow more naturally than they have in a while. Changyun settles beside her, lays his head on the back of the couch and listens to her explanation. She continues on for a while. 

“… so, the underground temperatures are a lot lower than we expected, so some scientists theorize the water is mostly underground. There’s still a lot we don’t know, though. Like, we think there’s a lunar water cycle? But anyway, this is all really important for people who want to establish a human colony on the moon.”

“Would you ever want to live on a moon colony?” Changyun asks, enraptured by her scientific lecture. He feels something swell inside of him. It’s not the love he’s been looking for, but it’s a type of love, a caring feeling. There was always an unspoken closeness between them before they had finally caved to the pressures of their families and married. Changyun wants to excavate it, for her sake at least. Hyojin responds after thinking for a moment. 

“I guess I would. Things move so fast here on Earth, and it’s all so much, all the time. It would be kind of claustrophobic, not being a part of society and all. But… I think I’d have to. Would you?” She asks in return. 

“I… don’t think so. I like Earth a lot. It’s like you’re saying, I like being a part of civilization, going places, seeing things. Space is beautiful but… I like the Earth, and other humans,” he concludes. 

“You’re such a romantic,” Hyojin smiles. It’s a small smile, like a budding flower in the spring. The love he feels sits right beside something constricting, a hand gripping at his windpipe from the inside. He knows that he has already ruined her life.

As planned, Hyojin taxis out to a barbecue restaurant near Seungjun’s apartment. Seungjun already has a table, and she waves Hyojin over excitedly as soon as she sees her. She looks especially dressed up tonight, dark makeup and a cute, short dress with a baggy denim jacket on top, falling off one shoulder. It looks like she’s ready for a bar crawl after this, something Hyojin hasn’t done with her in years. 

“I feel a little underdressed,” Hyojin says as she sits down, looking down at her own jeans and button up shirt. 

“Oh stop, you look great,” Seungjun compliments, reaching across the table to touch her forearm. “I love this shirt, you look so good in darker colors like this.”

Hyojin rolls her eyes, though she can’t fight the smile on her face. 

“Have you ordered yet?” Hyojin asks.

“Yeah, just the regular set. It should be out in a second,” Seungjun replies. “This is fun! Eating together instead of alone for a change!”

“God, you’re so mean,” Hyojin comments, laughing. 

“I’m just honest,” Seungjun corrects her. “And I meant instead of me eating alone. But I guess it applies to you too.”

“Yeah. I still don't know what Changyun’s problem is. Something is definitely up.”

“Have you actually tried asking him more seriously though? I mean, maybe he really is that busy with work. Or maybe there’s something going on in his life and he doesn’t know how to bring it up,” Seungjun suggests. 

“I dunno, I just don’t want to push. He just brushed me off anyway, when I did ask.”

“Hmm… and you can’t think of any reason he might want to avoid you? Any recent arguments?”

“Only the one I told you about. Jun, what if… what if he just doesn’t… like me anymore?” Hyojin finally asks. Seungjun opens her mouth to reply, but she’s cut off by the waiter arriving at their table with a plate of meats and numerous side dishes. They thank him and Seungjun immediately starts grilling. 

“Mmm, looks great,” Seungjun says. Hyojin looks at her, unamused, and she sighs. 

“I dunno, Dinnie. But if he really does feel like that, there are still ways to work through it. I’ll make his life a living hell if he screws around with your feelings,” Seungjun says with finality. 

“My mom is gonna kill me,” Hyojin groans, running a tired hand across her face. 

“Seriously, you’re thinking about her right now? Don’t worry about that old hag. And don’t worry about him! Just eat! Eat with me, and have fun, and smile, okay?” Seungjun says, grabbing a piece of meat from the grill to feed to her. Hyojin eats it straight from the tongs, hot grease stinging her throat. Seungjun always knows exactly what she needs. 

“Distract me,” Hyojin demands through bites of meat, reaching for her own chopsticks to dig into the side dishes. “What have you been up to?”

“Okay, well I was wanting to tell you about this crazy girl I met at the bar the other day…”

Seungjun regails her with tales of her adventurous, playboy lifestyle, of clingy hookups and scumbag men going to the wrong bars, hitting on the wrong girls. Hyojin eats and eats, letting the flavors melt into her tongue, sweetness and tang and oily, perfectly grilled meat. Seungjun grills and feeds her continuously without even pausing her stories. Hyojin lets her until she starts to notice how much less Seungjun has eaten than her. 

“Here, have some. You look like a skeleton,” Hyojin says as she makes a wrap and holds it out for Seungjun. Seungjun opens her mouth impossibly wide and eats it all in one go. Her lips lightly brush Hyojin’s fingertips. 

“Mmmh,” she groans in enjoyment, and Hyojin feels her face turning red. Hyojin makes another wrap for herself, and then makes another for Seungjun. Seungjun eats it just as happily, washing it down with a shot of soju. 

“Ah, delicious. I’m so glad you suggested barbecue,” Seungjun sighs, a little too satisfied. 

“I only suggested it so you can be my personal chef,” Hyojin tells her. 

“I’ll grill meat for you whenever you want, Dinnie,” Seungjun replies, a little too affectionately. 

“Whatever, loser,” Hyojin rolls her eyes, trying to look nonchalant. 

“Hey, I wasn’t kidding about going dancing though, there’s a nice club nearby. You don’t even need to drink, we can just have fun together like we used to!” Seungjun suggests. 

“Well… but, are you sure we aren’t too old for that stuff?” Hyojin asks anxiously. 

“Are you kidding? We’re barely even in our thirties! Come on, I promise this place is nice and low-key. You won’t regret it,” Seungjun persuades. 

“…Okay, sure,” Hyojin finally relents. It’s not actually a hard decision— this is a perfect out for her. Buy one too many drinks, dance with Seungjun until it’s a little too late to want to take a cab, and crash at her place. Hyojin won’t have to sleep in that cold, king-sized bed tonight. 

Seungjun cheers loud enough that a couple of other restaurant patrons give them dirty looks. She doesn’t seem to care though. After they finish eating, Seungjun pays the tab and drags Hyojin out onto the street. She stands a couple centimeters taller than Hyojin in her heels, something that would normally annoy Hyojin. But as Seungjun slings an arm around her shoulders, standing tall and vivid against the colorful lights of the city, she can’t find it in herself to be annoyed with anything.  

The club is busy, as expected for a Friday night, but Seungjun was right, it isn’t to the point of being overwhelming. The pair go to the bar first and Hyojin orders some fruity, frilly cocktail while Seungjun orders something stronger and laughs at Hyojin’s girly taste and low tolerance. They can’t quite chat anymore, the volume of the music is just a bit too high to hear over, so they do a lot of staring and laughing at each other as they down their drinks. Once their glasses are empty, Seungjun pulls Hyojin towards the dance floor. 

Seungjun has always been an incredible dancer, ever since she used to practice dance as a hobby back in high school. She twists and turns, hair swaying and flipping just right. Her movements have a carefree quality to them, contagiously fun. Hyojin is stiffer, more anxious, but Seungjun knows how to pull her in, how to grab her hands and move her rusted joints just enough to loosen them into something resembling dance. Seungjun likes to get close, likes for them to dance right up on top of each other. She leads Hyojin’s hands to her hips and places her own arms over Hyojin’s shoulders. It feels just like when they were in university, when Seungjun would convince her to quit studying and drag her along to enjoy the nightlife, to be properly twenty. After being ditched for other women— women Seungjun could actually sleep with— one too many times, Hyojin had quit going out. Then she’d gotten too old for it. Or maybe not too old. Too married. 

Hyojin doesn’t feel married right now; she feels twenty again, and free. Seungjun twists around in her arms and Hyojin pulls her closer, liquid courage running through her veins. Seungjun throws her head back, lays it on Hyojin’s shoulder and she’s so close, close enough that when she turns to face her, she can feel Seungjun’s breath on her lips, her hair tickling her cheek. Seungjun's eyes are half-lidded as they make eye contact. She looks just as hungry as she had back at the restaurant. Hyojin feels the same. Seungjun’s eyes dart down to look at Hyojin’s lips and for a moment, Hyojin considers ruining their lives. 

Suddenly, Seungjun lifts herself back up, spins back around. She looms tall over Hyojin once again and this time, she grabs Hyojin’s waist. 

“Having fun?” Seungjun shouts over the music, grinning mischievously. 

“I think you’re the one having a little too much fun,” Hyojin retorts, yanking Seungjun towards her, fronts colliding. Seungjun looks surprised and smiles wider, leaning in close. 

“Maybe we’re both having too much fun,” she says softly, lips directly against Hyojin’s ear. Her breath is hot, and Hyojin shivers.

“Nah, just humoring you,” Hyojin replies and smacks Seungjun’s hip. Seungjun yelps a little too excitedly and pulls away from her ear. 

“Rude!” Seungjun shouts and smacks Hyojin’s shoulder in return. “Are you already drunk? You only had one.” 

“I had a sip of your beer at the restaurant too,” Hyojin corrects. Seungjun laughs. 

“You should crash at mine then. I know how you get, you’ll fall asleep on the way home.”

“Sure,” Hyojin agrees, and Seungjun smiles down at her. 

They dance like that for a while, too wrapped up in each other to notice anyone or anything else around them. Seungjun looks beautiful bathed in the intense and shifting purple and pink lights. Her carefree, intoxicated gaze attracts Hyojin towards her, an irresistible force, like gravity. Seungjun has always been as bright and as magnetizing as a star. Hyojin feels like her satellite, feels like she’s been orbiting her for her whole life. She’s happy to stay like that, bathed in her light until she goes out. Hyojin wants to be destroyed by her supernova. 

Seungjun drags Hyojin back to her apartment. They stumble up the stairs, giddy and laughing, and Seungjun barely holds herself together long enough to put her key through the keyhole. Once inside, Hyojin lets herself collapse on the couch. The familiar scent of Seungjun surrounds her like a blanket. She hasn’t been in Seungjun’s apartment in a while. 

“What are you doing? If you wanna sleep, just come sleep in my bed,” she laughs. Hyojin groans in response. 

“Come on, there’s no way you’re that drunk. Get up,” Seungjun whines, approaching Hyojin and grabbing her arm. She pulls pretty hard, but Hyojin resists and yanks her down. With a shout, she falls right on top of her. Hyojin’s arms snake around her waist and hold her in place as she struggles to get up. 

“Hey! Let go!” She laughs, trying to push herself up, hands on either side of Hyojin’s head. But she fails, collapsing back against Hyojin’s torso. Their faces are mere centimeters apart. Seungjun pants. Her playful gaze shifts to something a bit more uncertain, searching. Hyojin knows what she wants to find. She lifts a hand to Hyojin’s face, brushes her bangs off of her forehead. Hyojin doesn’t flinch away, holds her eye contact. 

“Are you really that drunk?” Seungjun asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

Hyojin shakes her head. She brings one hand up to push a strand of hair back behind Seungjun’s ear, then places the hand on the nape of Seungjun’s neck. 

“Remember last time we were like this?” Seungjun asks, breathless. Hyojin feels static all around them, the dark apartment melting into an empty void. They are the only humans in the universe. 

“I think about it all the time… Me on top of you, back in high school—” Seungjun continues, and Hyojin cuts her off, surging up and kissing her, hard. This is the sequel she’s been waiting for, a decade in the making. Seungjun kisses just as perfectly as Hyojin had dreamt, pries into her mouth with her tongue. She tastes like barbecue and soju and beer, and it’s only delicious because it’s her, because Seungjun has always been as tempting as a full course meal. 

“Let me up, please, take me to bed,” Seungjun begs as soon as the kiss breaks. Hyojin can’t speak, she just nods, loosening her grip on her waist. Seungjun scrambles to get up, and then offers Hyojin her hand. Hyojin takes it without hesitation, pulling herself up from the couch and back into Seungjun’s arms. Seungjun holds her hand firmly for the short walk to her bedroom. Once inside, Hyojin pushes her up against the wall. 

Hyojin’s mouth immediately finds her neck, attacking with hard kisses as she tries to push Seungjun out of her jacket. Seungjun lets her jacket fall, brings a hand up to hold the nape of Hyojin’s neck, encouraging. Hyojin smells and tastes and feels Seungjun all around her. She kisses down to her exposed collarbone, nibbles on the bone to stave off the urge to bite and tear at her flesh. Her free hand sits on Seungjun’s hip, travels down the short distance to reach the hem of her dress. She doesn’t reach inside, just feels the boundary between skin and fabric. Seungjun gasps and Hyojin releases her collarbone to finally look her in the eyes. Seungjun looks dazed, eyes unfocused, drunk on sensation. 

“You’re not gonna regret this in the morning, right?” Seungjun pants. Her grin is smug but her eyes betray something self-conscious and scared. 

“Not if you don’t tell,” Hyojin replies easily. She’s famished. 

Seungjun seems to like that answer, smile widening as she turns around in Hyojin’s arms, front now against the wall. 

“Unzip me?” She asks slyly. 

Hyojin obeys, crowds her further into the wall, unzips the little dress while kissing the corner of her mouth. Seungjun lets the dress fall to the floor. It gathers at her feet, revealing the soft, bare expanse of her back. Hyojin leans back to get a good look, walks backwards until her legs hit Seungjun’s bed, and sits. Seungjun doesn’t follow, she presses herself against the wall, looks over her shoulder and watches Hyojin watch her. Hyojin’s eyes trace her long legs, the harsh, bony angle of her hips, the soft arch of her back, split in two by the lacy black band of her bra. Seungjun feeds on the attention, grows brighter and fuller with it. 

Then, Seungjun reaches behind herself and unhooks the bra. Her eyes gleam with mischief as she drops the garment at her feet, still facing away from Hyojin. 

“Enjoying the view? You gonna stay all dressed up while I’m like this?” She taunts. 

Hyojin leans back, legs spreading comfortably, one hand propping herself up while the other sits loosely on her top button. She only undoes the first one. 

“If you want me naked, you can come over here and undress me yourself,” Hyojin tells her. 

Seungjun wastes no time. She spins around, bare chest on full display, and takes two quick steps to Hyojin, immediately making herself at home in her lap. Hyojin has seen her breasts before, at a much younger age when nudity wasn’t as heavy with implications. But it was so long ago, such a different context. Seungjun has grown into herself since their school days, makes a much more beautiful image now that she’s filled out that skeletal form with muscle and fat. Her bare arms are slightly toned, a result of her work with heavy photography equipment. Her breasts look like the perfect size to fill Hyojin’s palms, to spill over the edges, squishy, sexy, satisfying. 

Seungjun immediately gets to work unbuttoning Hyojin’s shirt. She moves quickly, desperate for what lies beneath the fabric: Hyojin in her purest state. It makes a sudden feeling of anxiousness bubble up inside of Hyojin. Not for the consequences of this, just for the fact that no one has seen her body like this in years. 

Hyojin brings up a hand to halt Seungjun, down to the last two buttons. Seungjun stops, head shooting up to look her in the eye, worried. Hyojin can’t make that kind of eye contact now, only looks down while she gently moves Seungjun’s hands away, pulls her shirt from where it was tucked into her pants, and begins slowly opening the last two buttons. One, her pride, her fear, her armor, unlatched. Two, her reservations, her better judgment, undone. She pulls both sides of the shirt open with a certain hesitancy, like she's ashamed. A plain, uninteresting, navy blue sports bra is underneath. Hyojin finally looks back up. Seungjun is watching intently as the shirt slides down her arms, a mix of desire and awe painted across her face. Lightly, as though trying not to startle her, she smooths her hand over Hyojin’s side, up to the band of the sports bra. She feels along the edge, going no further. Hyojin understands— she has to be the one to show Seungjun she’s okay with this. Without allowing herself the space to feel fear, she lifts the bra over her head and off. 

Seungjun has a look in her eyes, it’s the kindest, warmest thing Hyojin’s ever felt. A campfire, a fleece blanket. Her large hands spread out across Hyojin’s sides, comforting. 

“Missed you so much Dinnie,” Seungjun sighs. 

“I’ve been here,” Hyojin counters. She can’t face the fact that she hasn’t been, not really. She’s been ghostlike, wandering through her life as a husk, daydreaming. 

Or maybe she is facing it, currently, and it’s blonde and one and a half centimeters taller than her, perched on her lap like a pet, like a loyal dog. Well then she’ll face it, she thinks, and she kisses it as apologetically as she can muster. 

Seungjun’s desire returns with Hyojin’s lips. She whines into the kiss, hands settling on Hyojin’s breasts. She kneads at them like a cat and Hyojin reaches behind her to grab at her ass. She’s spurred on by the action, shifting in Hyojin’s lap until she’s straddling her thigh. She openly, shamelessly grinds against Hyojin’s jeans, lace on denim, a gritty, intense friction. 

“Someone’s eager,” Hyojin comments as she breaks from the kiss. She presses Seungjun harder against her thigh, and she gasps. 

“Just… need you so bad…” Seungjun buries her face in Hyojin’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her, holding on for dear life. 

Hyojin pulls the both of them up to the center of the bed, flips them around and lays Seungjun out on her back. Her perfect blonde waves fan out around her, a halo. She stares at Hyojin with something deeper than desperation. Reverence, maybe. The same face that the stained glass windows saw when she took Hyojin to that cathedral during their study abroad program in Berlin. Hyojin had respectfully observed Seungjun’s devotion, pondered the blind faith she carried for those arbitrary holy figures. 

Hyojin understands it now— there is a saint right in front of her, beckoning without speaking. Hyojin cannot feel guilt or shame, and this is why: in Seungjun’s arms, her sins are absolved, forgiven entirely by forces larger than any man-made certificate, larger than any man. 

Hyojin’s saint reaches out, holds her face in both of her hands, and pulls her down into yet another hungry, immodest kiss. 

“Are you gonna make me wait even longer?” Seungjun asks. Her eyes are daring, her right hand falls back down to her own body. She has no more patience, feeling over the dark lace of her panties in long, deep strokes. Hyojin doesn’t respond with words, just scrambles to unbutton her pants. She shoves the final garments off, jeans and underwear all at once, kicking and struggling like a man possessed. The cold rush of air against her everything is terrible, mortifying. Seungjun watches her with a triumphant smile. 

“You’re still not naked,” Hyojin comments as she settles atop Seungjun once more, snapping the band of her underwear against her hip. 

“Fine,” she concedes, slipping the last piece off, kicking the panties from her ankle. “But neither are you.”

Seungjun reaches for Hyojin’s left hand, guides it to her mouth, and it’s not until Hyojin sees her own hand that she realizes what Seungjun means. 

Seungjun kisses the tips of two of Hyojin’s fingers — the middle and the ring— before taking them fully into her mouth. She takes them down to the base, sucking and licking at the metal band crowning Hyojin’s ring finger. Then, finally, a light grazing of teeth, and she removes Hyojin’s fingers from her mouth, ring now missing. Hyojin is frozen in awe. Seungjun opens her mouth, presenting Hyojin with the sight of her wedding ring sitting perfectly on her tongue. 

“You’re a freak,” Hyojin says lowly. She takes the ring from her mouth and tosses it carelessly onto the bedside table. Grabbing Seungjun’s wrist from between her legs, Hyojin pulls it over her head, holding her down. 

“And you’re a cheater. How’s it feel?” Seungjun asks. And she’s always been mean, but Hyojin hasn’t witnessed this ire on Seungjun’s face in years. Her eyes are dark pits, black holes, calling for Hyojin, asking to eat her whole. 

“Feels wet, mostly,” Hyojin replies, using her hand— now damp with saliva— to reach down, stroking Seungjun long and slow. Seungjun hums contentedly. 

“You haven’t done this before, have you?” Seungjun asks, eyes still closed with bliss. 

“What, cheat on Changyun? Don’t you think I would’ve told you?” Hyojin asks. 

“No,” Seungjun laughs. “You haven’t slept with a woman before.” 

“I mean… I know the mechanics…” Hyojin starts, flustered. 

She is inexperienced, especially compared to Seungjun. She understands sex between two women well enough, but she barely even sleeps with her own husband. She’s not really sure what they’re supposed to do here. She knows some lesbians use toys and things, but the whole concept feels daunting. Would Seungjun really be satisfied with just her fingers?

Seungjun puts a hand on top of Hyojin’s, the one that’s between her legs, gently guiding it. 

“It’s okay. I like virgins,” she says mischievously.

She’s so overwhelming, so frustrating. Hyojin hides her face in Seungjun’s collarbone. She gives her a playful bite, a punishment for her indecency. Another laugh reverberates through Seungjun, vibrations traveling straight to Hyojin’s brain. 

“You should bite me harder. Leave it somewhere where people can see it. Show them I’m yours,” she tells Hyojin. Yours… Hyojin thinks of the long list of friends and acquaintances that could see such a thing, overlapping social circles, her own husband being Seungjun’s coworker. 

She bites down harder, viciously, and Seungjun lets out a loud noise that is anything but pained. Hyojin’s already gathered from throwaway comments over the years that Seungjun likes pain a little too much. To be the one inflicting it though, to feel Seungjun writhing beneath her, is an intoxicating feeling. Nothing has ever felt more right. 

“Mmh, are you a vampire or something? Trying to make me bleed?” Seungjun pants. 

“Maybe I am. Maybe I do this to all the pretty girls I meet. Take them home and suck them dry,” Hyojin cringes internally at the not-quite dirty talk. She hasn’t done this before either. 

“You gonna suck me dry?” Seungjun laughs with a daring look in her eyes. She’s interested. 

“Maybe I will,” Hyojin agrees, crawling further down the bed. Her hands trail down Seungjun’s thighs. This is it, she realizes. Hyojin knows how to use her mouth. Seungjun looks excited at the prospect. 

Hyojin hooks a hand under Seungjun’s knee, bends down to taste it, kissing and licking. Her legs smell like the slightest hint of dried lotion, floral and soft. The skin of her thighs is as smooth as it looks, although Hyojin’s sensitive tongue can feel the slightly spiky texture of shaved hair growing in, not yet visible. Seungjun places a large hand on Hyojin’s head, weaving her long fingers through her hair. It rests, not demanding anything except another point of contact. Anxiety bubbles and brews a poison in Hyojin’s stomach. She can feel sweat forming at her hairline and palms. Seungjun will cure it, Hyojin decides. Seungjun is her holy water, her antidote. She dives in. 

Seungjun sighs, satisfied at the first touch of Hyojin’s tongue. She tastes like Hyojin would expect flesh to taste, with the tang of sex and an additional hint of saltiness, wet and slick even without Hyojin’s saliva. Hyojin licks a long stripe from bottom to top, sucks hard at her clit. She cringes at the sound her mouth makes, but Seungjun continues to make affirming noises. It must be normal, Hyojin thinks. It doesn’t get any more intimate than this. What difference can a few gross noises make?

“I think about you doing this to me all the time. You always eat so well,” Seungjun sighs.

Hyojin blossoms under the praise, letting go of her inhibitions more and more. She sucks and licks, tastes her like she’s a delicacy, like sucking the meat from a crab leg, slurping at noodles and broth. A mix of Seungjun’s wetness and her own saliva begin to paint Hyojin’s chin and the tip of her nose. 

Hyojin has no point of reference for something like this, save for a few illicit videos, exaggerated and hard to follow. She follows the sensations that she would like to feel herself, imagines what she would want Seungjun to do to her, how she would want her to use her tongue, the places she would want her to move faster, slower. Hyojin brings a hand up to continue stimulating Seungjun’s clit, moves her face lower so she can reach her tongue inside Seungjun. The taste and smell are stronger here, but Hyojin can’t get enough of the texture. Soft and malleable, occasionally twitching and tensing. Like kissing, but softer than a mouth. Hyojin follows the slight movements, slides her tongue hard against the tender walls. Seungjun’s hand tenses, grabbing at Hyojin’s hair, pressing her harder against her. Hyojin’s nose digs into her flesh. 

“You’re so good… I knew you’d be good at this too…” Seungjun says, mostly to herself. Her voice is strained now. Hyojin had expected her to take a lot longer to get worked up. She feels like she could eat Seungjun out for hours. 

Seungjun’s free hand joins Hyojin’s, pressing it harder against her, encouraging it to move faster. Hyojin does the same with her tongue, losing herself in that feeling, that texture. It’s some minutes later that Seungjun lets out a loud cry, legs suddenly pressing into the sides of Hyojin’s head. Her body tenses and twitches all over, especially inside. Hyojin works her through it, tongue and hand winding down into long, slow movements. When the hand in her hair gently pushes, she gets the memo and moves away. 

“That was a little fast. You weren’t faking it for my sake, were you?” Hyojin asks playfully. Seungjun giggles, a bit delirious. 

“Of course not. It’s because it’s you. God, I can’t believe it’s really you,” she says. Her voice is overflowing with a light, airy joy. Seungjun pulls her closer, captures her in another kiss despite her messy face, despite the strong aftertaste that must be filling her mouth, the taste of barbecue, and strawberry, and pussy. 

Seungjun seems to relish in it, licking her mouth both inside and out. When she gets enough of her mouth, she kisses and tastes Hyojin’s sticky cheeks and chin, kisses lightly over her jaw and down her neck. It’s gross, and obsessive, and Hyojin loves it, loves her desperation. Seungjun trails the kisses from her face to her neck, over her collarbone, and Hyojin’s anticipation begins to rise as she hovers over her breasts. 

“Let me leave a mark too,” Seungjun asks, demands, and Hyojin can’t deny her. She can only nod her head desperately. 

Seungjun picks a spot at the top of her breast, kisses and sucks ferociously at the sensitive skin. Hyojin nearly shouts at the sudden stimulation. It’s like nothing she’s felt before. Changyun had offered to do such things before, but— she puts it out of her mind. There’s just not enough space in her brain for him right now. 

“Mine,” Seungjun says into her skin, sealing her fate. 

Seungjun continues to lay kisses around Hyojin’s chest. She takes her nipple into her mouth and sucks, tongue swirling around it, and then repeats the action on the other one. She sucks and bites several more marks into the skin of her chest and Hyojin writhes, pressing her chest up into Seungjun’s mouth, ecstatic with pleasure. Seungjun’s teeth paint her chest a mottled, aggressive red. Hyojin adores it. 

As Seungjun’s mouth focuses on her chest, she reaches down to feel the seam of Hyojin’s pussy, already plenty slick. She strokes over it, fingers toying with her entrance but never quite going inside. Where Seungjun had been daydreaming about Hyojin eating her out, Hyojin’s had been daydreaming about Seungjun’s hands— her long and slender and bony hands. She had wondered how they would feel inside her, how deep they could reach. Seungjun doesn’t reach inside her yet, she just teases at it, hands moving with obvious experience. 

“Please, just—” Hyojin cuts herself off. 

“Oh? Please what? Are you gonna beg for it?” Seungjun asks excitedly, head resting right in the center of her chest. She dips the tip of her finger inside only to pull it right back out. Hyojin aches for it, for her. Reaching up, Hyojin plants a rough hand in Seungjun’s hair, grabs and yanks her up. 

“Fuck me,” Hyojin asks. It’s not begging, or it’s some demanding version of it. Seungjun groans at the rough treatment, leans into it. She lets Hyojin drag her up until Hyojin’s teeth can reach her throat. 

With that, Seungjun finally thrusts one long finger into her. Hyojin’s whole body tenses, her jaw stills as it bites Seungjun’s neck. It’s so good, better than her own fingers or Changyun’s—

“Relax, just let me in,” Seungjun says. Hyojin does her best, focuses on leaning into the feelings of pleasure and desire. Seungjun slowly moves in and out until Hyojin’s muscles start to accommodate her. She pushes a second finger inside and Hyojin gasps, losing herself. Seungjun’s fingertips explore the walls, searching until Hyojin flinches especially hard, crying out. Seungjun locks onto that spot, pressing and stroking. She uses her other hand to massage Hyojin on the outside, and Hyojin is shaking and flinching, coming within minutes. 

The sensation washes over her stronger than it ever has before. She sees bright stars and brilliant colors blooming on the inside of her eyelids. Seungjun is the only thing that’s solid and real, laying on her, pinning her to Earth. She has just enough mind to let go of her hair, not wanting to hurt her in the reverie. 

When she comes back to herself, Seungjun has already settled on the bed beside her, firm arm locked around her waist. Her eyes are intense, anticipating. Hyojin still can’t find the energy to feel as guilty as she probably should. Sleeping with Seungjun feels less like a betrayal or a rebellion and more like returning home to her childhood bedroom, exactly as she left it. It feels like she’s finally caught her breath after years of running. 

Hyojin’s eyelids flutter, dead tired. She reaches up to hold Seungjun’s cheek in her palm. Seungjun immediately holds Hyojin’s hand against her cheek, palm completely enveloping Hyojin’s. 

“Hyojin don’t… don’t leave without telling me, okay?” Seungjun asks, self-consciousness creeping into her voice. 

“Of course,” Hyojin agrees. The bite on her chest stings, ever so slightly. Seungjun blurs until she’s just a cloud, a dream, imprinted in Hyojin’s eye. Hyojin sleeps comfortably through the night.

Changyun comfortably eats his breakfast alone. Sleeping without someone beside him, spending his morning in silence preparing his food, reading as he eats, all of it is exactly what he needed to clear his mind. He cannot erase the guilt of what he’s done, what he will continue to do to Hyojin. He can barely look at himself in the mirror. But Hyojin’s small absence has allowed him the space to breathe, to collect himself. 

He recalls the night that Seungjun had introduced him to Hyojin, a large gathering of friends and friend’s friends. He recalls the way he’d chatted with her at the end of the large table, how the universe had closed in on them, how it felt for a night that she was the only other person in the world. She was magnetic then, is still magnetic now. 

Changyun thinks of her smile the night before last, her tone of quiet excitement in their living room, in front of their tv. He holds it tenderly in his mind's eye, that unfamiliar liveliness. He never had any right to trap her like this in the first place. He knows how her family is. He knows that what little familial bonds they have left would probably just crumble with such a serious upheaval. Everything has become too tangled to resolve cleanly. The strings must be cut to remove the knot. Changyun would be fine. He doesn’t know what would happen to Hyojin. Hyojin does still like seeing her parents after all, even though she always looks like death by the time they finally leave. He’s sure she doesn’t want them to abandon her altogether. 

Hyojin walks through the front door around ten o’clock, as Changyun’s plate sits cleared and cold in front of him. He looks up from his book he’s been trying to read, and there she is, the one for which the world turns. Maybe it’s not the love it’s supposed to be, but he’s always cared about her. They’ve always been a different sort of couple. He wonders if he should go back to ignoring himself, for her sake. Sacrifice these feelings for her life to go on. He wonders if he will die like this, looking up at her. 

“Welcome back. How was your night?” Changyun asks, painting on a smile. She looks awkward as she enters the living space, somehow more awkward than usual.

“Oh, uh, good. It was good to catch up a bit,” she answers shortly. 

“Good. You’re probably tired, so I don’t mind getting the groceries alone today, if you want,” he offers. 

“Are you sure? But you’ve been… working so much lately.” She asks. There’s something different about her today. She’s… unsteady? She moves like she’s not in her own home, like she’s somewhere unfamiliar and strange. It was probably the drinking she did last night, Changyun thinks. She never could hold her alcohol. 

“I’m sure,” he agrees. “It’s not inconvenient or anything.”

“Yeah, that’s… sure.”

Changyun doesn’t know how much longer he can run before she catches up. 

Hyojin wakes to the featherlight weight of Seungjun’s hand resting on her hip. Seungjun is backlit by her bedroom window, haloed in sunlight. She looks as innocent and angelic as ever, despite the previous night’s activities.

The memory of last night doesn’t hit Hyojin hard; it melts over her, a feeling of dread creeping slowly from her stomach to her throat. Her esophagus is a riverbed— ice cold, rough with rocks and pebbles and dirt. The anxiety begins to drown her, so she buries her face into the pillow, the sheets. When the scent of her best friend surrounds her, she feels a sense of relief. It smells like home. 

The hand on Hyojin’s hip twitches. Seungjun stirs for a moment, and Hyojin lifts her head to take a peek at her as she wakes up. She is immediately bowled over by the look in Seungjun’s eyes, the direct, intense eye contact. Seungjun’s hand leaves her hip to cup her cheek, thumb smoothing over her cheekbone. Neither of them speak. What could possibly be said? 

Hyojin does not confess her love, does not lash out with hate. Seungjun does not demand a divorce, a proposal, an uprooting of everything. 

Seungjun does not ask before she kisses Hyojin, because she must know that Hyojin would never deny her. 

Hyojin drinks in the stale scent of morning breath, of old sweat and sex, chases Seungjun’s lips as they try to leave hers, and kisses and kisses and kisses. Seungjun finally pulls away, giggling at her eagerness. 

“Okay, okay, enough. We should eat, I’m hungry. I’m sure you are too,” Seungjun says. 

And their breakfast feels exactly the same as any meal they’ve shared together in the past. Seungjun chatters and laughs, Hyojin nags and teases. They are exactly what they’ve always been, save for the fact that the world is now completely upside down. 

Hyojin throws on last night’s clothes as she prepares to leave. Before she steps out of the apartment, Seungjun pulls her in by the waist and kisses her once more. It tastes like poison, a blissful death. The bites on Seungjun’s neck are stark and deep. Hers. 

At home, the guilt finally crawls from her throat to her mouth, a thin, sticky film of muck coating her teeth. It threatens to jump out with Changyun’s every word, every kind glance, every smile. It says “I hate you. I’m miserable. I’m dead and it’s all your fault. It’s all our fault.” The apartment is a cold cage, a net woven with rough, scratchy rope. She can’t completely blame Changyun— they wove it together. 

Changyun leaves to go grocery shopping, and Hyojin changes out of her day-old outfit. In her bedroom mirror, she sees the mess Seungjun has made of her chest, deep red bites and hickeys covering her breasts. It’s unsettling, painful. She wants it all, wants it to keep hurting, to hurt more. She wants these bites to permanently scar her. “Mine,” Seungjun had said. All hers, in body and in mind. She loves her desperately. 

Her frustration bubbles over as she thinks of Changyun’s gentle voice, the things they could never be for each other. She thinks of the act she has to maintain now. 

“I cheated on you. I don’t love you.” She could say. And he could find a way to restart his life. All while Hyojin drowns in the mess she’s made.  

Hyojin doesn’t cry much, maybe once in the past year. But now, she feels her eyes sting. Her love for Seungjun washes over her in waves, as does her guilt. 

At the grocery store, Changyun enjoys more clarifying solitude. It’s always good to get out of the house, good to move and be alone and think. Thinking is easier than acting on his thoughts, and it feels just as productive. 

Changyun thinks his way through the produce section, and the snack aisle. As he picks between different types of pasta, he witnesses an older couple looking at sauces. They don’t do anything notable, but Changyun thinks of his own age. He’d always considered thirty to be old, until he turned thirty and realized just how much time he still had. 

Now, at thirty-two, he wonders if forty years is really enough time to tear his life down and rebuild it from the ground up. He wonders if such a thing is an option, if it would really be worth it. 

Changyun turns back to the shelf and reaches for a box of spaghetti, deciding that something classic would be best, and also easiest to cook without messing up too badly. But at that exact moment, a long, slender hand snatches the box he was reaching for. He turns to the source, startled, and is met with—

“Oh, Seungjun!” He realizes. 

“Fancy meeting you here!” Seungjun smiles, handing him the spaghetti noodles. She looks funny, dressed down in sweatpants and a simple, zip-up hoodie. It’s completely different from her (admittedly still quite casual) work clothes. 

She’s accessorized with one thing though; Changyun pointedly does not look at the dark, fresh-looking hickeys and bites dotting her neck. 

“Yeah. How are you? Have fun with Hyojin last night?” Changyun chats lightly. 

“Oh, definitely. You know how she gets when she drinks,” Seungjun answers without missing a beat. “Is she here too?”

“Nah, I thought I should let her rest a bit more. I don’t think she’s totally recovered from whatever you guys did last night.” 

“Oh? She seemed fine when we were eating breakfast though?” Seungjun wonders aloud. “Well, it’s good for her to rest anyway. She’s probably tired from all the dancing and stuff.”

“Dancing? You dragged her out to like… a club or something?” Changyun asks. The thought of serious, quiet Hyojin doing something rebellious like that is kind of funny, and Changyun smiles. If anyone could drag Hyojin to a place like that, it’s Seungjun. 

“Yup. But don’t worry, I made sure she only danced with me,” Seungjun replies.

“Good, good,” Changyun responds automatically, though he hadn't even thought to worry about who Hyojin may have danced with. “Well, I’d better keep moving, I’ve got some frozen stuff here. Good to see you though.”

“Good to see you. I’ll see you again on Monday,” Seungjun says cheerfully. “Get home, go take care of my girl.”

Something in her face shifts when she says the last part. Changyun isn’t sure if he imagines it, but her face seems to become a bit emptier than usual. Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“I will. See you,” Changyun says, turning away to continue with his grocery shopping. 

It isn’t until Changyun has left the store that he considers the hickeys on Seungjun’s neck. They were… fresh. Really fresh. But it’s not like she would’ve ditched Hyojin if they were out together, right?

So they must’ve been from the previous night. 

…Except, he ran into Seungjun the previous night as well, as she and Yuto were leaving the office. To work the hours she had, then go out and do god knows what, and then go clubbing with her friend the very next day… it doesn’t sound realistic. It would be incredibly tiring. The Seungjun at the grocery store had been perfectly energized. 

Changyun settles on the answer that Seungjun could’ve gotten those any other time within the previous couple of days, and they really aren’t his business. He’s comfortable enough with that answer, it’s all true. But it sits uncomfortably in the back of his mind. He orbits around the thought the whole way home. 

Hyojin likes to go dancing?

Hyojin’s emotional outburst is short lived. 

Barely a week passes, and Seungjun is already calling her to chat on the phone as usual. It’s all the same, except Seungjun keeps saying these… these lines.

“Boy, these bites sure are deep. I guess they’ll last for a while, huh?”

“Is Changyun there? Can I come over?”

“I miss you…”

Hyojin’s guilt seems to dissipate with every line, every conversation. It’s not that she feels justified, but there’s an excitement to it all, one she hasn’t felt in a long time. And it feels mean to say, but Changyun is so… forgettable. He’s still avoiding her for some dumb reason. Hyojin has no idea why, thinks he might be trying to figure out the best way to tell her he has erectile dysfunction or something, but she leans into it. She lets herself forget him, spends as much time as she can away from him. He becomes something closer to a roommate than a husband. 

At work one day, the phone at Hyojin’s desk rings.

“Hyojin, you have a visitor,” the secretary tells her over the phone. 

“What? Who?” She asks. It’s nearly the end of the work day, no one could possibly need anything from her. For a foolish moment, she thinks it could be Changyun, doing some grand romantic gesture like he used to at the beginning of the relationship. Showing up right before closing time so he could take her out for dinner, or maybe just drive her home. 

“Lee Seungjun,” the secretary answers, and Hyojin nearly drops the phone. 

“Oh uh— yeah I’ll— tell her I’ll be a minute,” Hyojin stutters out. She gets to a stopping point with the research proposal she was looking through and hurriedly packs her things. She’s out in record time, bidding farewell to her colleagues without even looking at them, beelining for the door. 

Hyojin goes down to reception and her attention is immediately captured by Seungjun. She's not especially dressed up, just wearing typical business casual attire. Her hair is messy and she’s applied the bare minimum amount of makeup that would be expected at the sort of office she works in. 

All to say, there’s nothing particularly different about her. But it’s the first time Hyojin has seen her in person since their night together. Her head turns as Hyojin enters the room, and her signature bright, carefree smile lights up across her face. She is absolutely breathtaking. 

“Dinnie! Let me walk you home!” Seungjun starts. Hyojin flushes red at the usage of the childish nickname in front of the secretary. 

“I— I ride the bus,” Hyojin argues. 

“Let me ride with you,” she corrects, not batting an eye. Hyojin narrows her eyes. There seems to be no getting rid of her. 

On the bus, Hyojin makes the mistake of sitting on the window seat. Seungjun settles too close next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. 

“How was work?” Seungjun prompts. 

“…Fine,” Hyojin replies, suspicious. Seungjun pouts. 

“Why are you acting weird? Were you not happy to see me? I thought it was a cute way to surprise you.” Seungjun’s pout is lighthearted, but Hyojin can see how delicate she really is in this moment. They both are; their friendship of so many years has been shaken by this new facet, this realization, still not properly verbalized. Hyojin wants to be even meaner to her than she usually is, but she knows she shouldn’t lie. 

“That’s not it,” Hyojin replies, turning to look out the window so that Seungjun can’t see her facial expression. She does not clarify what “it” is. 

“Oh? Well, good,” Seungjun says. The smile is audible in her voice. “I was happy to see you too.”

Seungjun places a hand on Hyojin’s thigh, and Hyojin can’t hold back a small flinch of surprise. Seungjun rubs her thigh with her thumb. The motion, the points of contact, her shoulder and arm and knee all in contact with Hyojin, all of it starts to become too much for Hyojin to handle. She feels dizzy with affection, and sick to her stomach. There is no guilt, but there is a bubbling anger. How can she act like this is fine, how can she so easily do these things, call Hyojin and show up to her work and sit with her on the bus and touch her?

Why can’t Hyojin touch her back?

Hyojin keeps her face turned away from Seungjun. She worries Seungjun may kiss her if she gives her the chance. 

They get off the bus at Hyojin’s stop and walk in near silence back to her apartment. Seungjun laces their fingers together and Hyojin doesn’t have the strength to pull away. She walks closer to Seungjun instead, brushing shoulders every now and then. When they reach Hyojin’s front door, Seungjun finally speaks up. 

“Do you think he’s home already?” Seungjun asks. Hyojin feels her heart pound, adrenaline suddenly seeping into her muscles. 

“Uh… I mean, probably not,” Hyojin replies. She’d forgotten what an incredible rush it was to break the rules. She feels like a child again. 

“Go on, check,” Seungjun gestures at the door, taking a step behind her. 

“Right,” Hyojin says and opens the door, stepping inside. The lights are all off, but she calls inside just to be certain. “Changyun? Are you here?”

The door clicks closed behind her. Seungjun’s body crowds against her back, holding her by her hips. She lays her face against Hyojin’s neck and breathes deeply. Hyojin shudders with fear and excitement. 

“We can’t— I dunno when he’ll be back. Probably soon, it’s Friday,” Hyojin tells her. 

“I know, just let me… just for a second. I missed you so much, I couldn’t handle it,” Seungjun explains, laying a desperate kiss on her neck. 

“It was just last week, are you really so needy? How has any other woman put up with you until now?” Hyojin teases, projecting more confidence than she feels. 

“No one has, no one has had to. I’m only like this for you,” Seungjun mutters. Her voice is as light and dainty as a breath, as a bell. Hyojin feels a wave of satisfaction, of possessiveness. 

Hyojin can’t think of anything she could possibly say in response. She turns in Seungjun’s arms, pulling her in for a proper kiss. There’s no time, no time for her to fuck Seungjun like she wants to, no time to get lost in her lips, her soft hair and floral scent. She cherishes this gem of contact instead, Seungjun’s large mouth, lips sticky with gloss, tongue wet and eager. The world regains its color. Hyojin’s frozen heart thaws. Seungjun is medicine, is life support, is the light of the sun breaking through winter’s clouds, thawing the earth. 

“Fuck me in your bed next time?” Seungjun asks at some point, and Hyojin can only nod in agreement. 

There is exactly one problem with staying at the office so much, Changyun finds. 

“Mr. Lee, do you have a second? I need your help again,” Yuto asks, dipping his head into Changyun’s cubicle. 

“Yuto? What are you here this late for?” Changyun asks. The clock reads 7:00 pm. Only a handful of others remain in the office. And this isn’t the first time— Changyun has been running into the boy frequently, especially at these late hours. What business does a photography assistant have working so much overtime, he wonders? How could he possibly have this much work to do?

“We have a deadline coming up and Seungjun gave me some extra editing to do. You’re good at that kind of graphic work though, can you help?” Yuto asks. 

“…Sure,” Changyun reluctantly agrees, getting up from his seat. He walks with Yuto to the corner where the photography team’s computers reside. It’s obvious which workstation is Yuto’s, because it’s so much tidier than the others. 

Yuto pulls his desk chair out and looks up at Changyun expectantly. Changyun can already feel the headache coming on. He sits. 

“So, I was just trying to add some text to this part, but I just can’t make it look right. Do you think it’s the font? The color? I just can’t get it right,” Yuto explains. He hovers over Changyun, one hand on the computer mouse and the other on the back of the chair. The light scent of cologne wafts across Changyun’s nose, something delicate and not too overpowering. It suits Yuto perfectly. 

Changyun notices the silence. He realizes it’s his turn to speak. 

“Oh, uh… yeah I mean I think the color is fine, but you’re just doing too much. Like, uh, the scene itself is already really busy, and the font is kind of fancy. You need more empty space, I think.” Changyun nudges Yuto’s hand off the mouse and shows him what he means. He picks a simpler font and shrinks the text, revealing more of the empty background of the shot. 

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Yuto exclaims. “Do you think— what if I just—” 

Yuto places his hand on top of Changyun’s where it rests on the computer mouse. He changes the size slightly and selects a brighter color. Changyun can hardly see the screen, all of his senses are focused on the feeling of Yuto’s hand, warm, firm, larger than his. 

“How about now?” Yuto asks, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. 

“Oh uh, yeah, it’s good,” Changyun agrees. It’s fine. He can’t focus, can’t think straight. 

“Do you mind looking at the rest of the video? See if anything sticks out to you?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Changyun agrees. He’s not sure how this kid has the courage to be taking up so much of his time. They don’t even work in the same area. 

The video is just fine. Better than fine, actually. Changyun likes it a lot more than their company’s past video work. It’s a simple promotional video, a compilation of clips from a recent photoshoot for a fashion brand. The shakiness of the shoot gives it a touch of humanity, makes it all come off as much more natural. 

“This is nice, who did the videography?” Changyun asks. 

“That’s all my work,” Yuto answers proudly. He’s leaning down now, voice right beside Changyun’s ear. “Seungjun likes the way I shoot videos, so she’s put me in charge of a lot of that work. It’s a good way for me to watch her process during the photoshoots as well.”

“That’s great, you really… I mean, you’ve got a good eye for this stuff so…” Changyun doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. He turns to face Yuto and Yuto’s eyes are deep and intense, sparkling with the reflection of the computer screen. His face is far closer than Changyun had expected. 

“Uh… like, you’ll probably be promoted pretty quickly,” is what Changyun settles on. 

“…You think?” Yuto replies, smirking. Changyun feels like a fool. 

“Y-yeah. Like, when the uh, opportunity comes, I’m sure Seungjun will put in a good word for you,” Changyun tries to sound normal but even he knows it isn’t working. Yuto is… really close. He studies Changyun’s face, staring openly. 

“You would put in a good word too, right?” Yuto asks, placing his hand on Changyun’s upper arm. Changyun is both aroused and… disgusted. He suddenly becomes acutely aware of the position of power he is in above Yuto, even though he’s from a different department. Is this what Yuto is really after? A career boost? Changyun should be offended, except…

Except Yuto’s cologne fills the air, floats through Changyun’s breath, up into his brain. He has this charisma, this look in his eyes, daring and intense. Changyun wishes Yuto would take him right there, would just bend him over the desk and—

Changyun stands abruptly, ripping his hand away from Yuto. 

“You— this really isn’t— I should go, uh, go home. Hyojin is probably sick of waiting for me,” Changyun says. He’s not even sure why he says it. It’s as if he’s trying to prove something. 

“See you tomorrow,” Yuto says. He doesn’t look even a little bit shaken. 

Hyojin begins to find out just how easy it is to let go of her inhibitions when Seungjun is involved. She loses herself in the rush of sneaking around, of going out and hooking up and having real, genuine fun again. She can’t remember the last time she did anything fun with Changyun.

Actually, scratch that, she can. It was early winter. They went out to shop for gifts for their friends and family. They didn’t chat much, they just quietly shopped, enjoying each other’s presence. When they left the shopping center, hands full with plastic and paper bags, they noticed it was snowing. Changyun had exclaimed as much, running out into it excitedly, staring up at the dark sky. 

In that moment, Hyojin swore she felt something like fondness, something like adoration. But just below that, the familiar sense of doom crept in. She distinctly remembers one thought that came to the forefront of her mind at the time. “I don’t want to live like this.”

Hyojin may feel doomed when she spends time with Seungjun, but she never thinks anything like that. Being with Seungjun is all she craves, maybe it’s all she ever has craved. Hyojin wants to live a life with her. This she is sure of. 

She starts spending more time with Seungjun, all of her free time, many of her listless, dull evenings. Seungjun invites her out more often, and Hyojin never turns her down. They shop together, meet each other for lunch and dinner, dance, drink, enjoy each other's company. It’s everything they’ve always done together, only now the dam has broken. Seungjun’s affection flows even more freely. There’s a new excitement in the air, a new sense of wrongness that makes everything feel scandalous, electric. Seungjun’s hand on her thigh, under the table. Seungjun’s dirty jokes, all the more pointed. 

Or now: Seungjun crowding into the changing room after Hyojin, hands full of hangers. 

“…can’t you get your own changing room?” Hyojin asks. 

“Why? You can change in front of me, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Seungjun replies with a smirk. 

“You’re such a pervert,” Hyojin says, rolling her eyes, turning away from Seungjun. She feels her face heating up. 

Despite her embarrassment, despite Seungjun’s overwhelming presence just behind her, she begins changing. Just try on the jeans and get out, she thinks. Deep down, she knows Seungjun won’t let her get away with just that. 

But things really do start out innocently enough. Hyojin shuffles out of her own jeans and squeezes into the pair she wanted to try on. They’re too small, but Hyojin had the foresight to grab the next size up. That pair ends up being much more comfortable. Hyojin loves the shape, and it’s a lighter shade of denim that she doesn’t have in her wardrobe. 

“Hey, what do you think—” Hyojin starts to ask, but her voice gets caught in her throat as she turns around. She sees Seungjun just in time to catch a glimpse of her bare chest and bra as she pulls on a tight little top. It’s a cropped white tank top dotted with little blue flowers. The sleeves and hem are ruffled. 

It’s cute, really cute. But what really affects Hyojin though is the contrast of it. The contrast between the cute, innocent looking top and Seungjun’s bruised and bitten collarbone and neck. That Seungjun can look so sweet, so angelic and pure, that Hyojin can bite her and bruise her and taint that purity…

“Hmm? Oh, cute! Those jeans are nice!” Seungjun exclaims, interrupting Hyojin’s spiraling thoughts. 

“You think? I mean they’re kinda expensive but… I could always use a good pair of jeans…” Hyojin thinks out loud. 

“I think they’re worth it, you look good,” Seungjun agrees, taking a step closer and placing a hand on Hyojin’s hip to feel the denim appreciatively. 

“How about my shirt, what do you think? Is it cute? You keep staring at it, is it a good stare?” Seungjun asks, puffing out her chest a bit. 

“Wh— I’m not staring, I was just looking,” Hyojin corrects, embarrassed about being caught. “It’s— it’s fine.”

“Just fine?” Seungjun pouts. “Is it too girly? I like girly things though.”

“No, no it— you look good. Really good. Cute things suit you. It’s just a bit showy, what with the… y’know,” Hyojin points at her own collarbone area, strictly covered by a thick, long-sleeved shirt. 

“What, you mean with your bite marks all over the place?” Seungjun giggles. “But I want people to see those. That way they know I’m taken.”

Seungjun releases Hyojin’s hip, opting instead to throw her arms over Hyojin’s shoulders. Her face draws closer, mere centimeters away from Hyojin’s face. 

“Are you? Are you taken?” Hyojin asks, staring at her glossy lips. She wants her, wants to be hers. But that’s not true, is it?

“Mmhmm. I’ve been fucking the same girl for weeks now. I don’t want anyone else,” Seungjun murmurs happily. 

“And what about the girl you’re with? What if her husband kisses her? What if they do things together? Isn’t she already taken? You can’t take something that’s already taken,” Hyojin pushes. She can’t stop herself, she’s anxious. She needs Seungjun’s confidence, wants to prod it out of her. 

“What if I’m the one that took her first?” Seungjun replies, closing the distance between them with a soft, earnest kiss. And that’s right, Hyojin thinks, and any doubts she had subside. It’s all so easy when it comes to Seungjun. Hyojin has been hers all along. You can’t take something that’s already been taken. 

Hyojin deepens the kiss to convey as much, kisses her heavily, intensely. She brings a hand up to the back of Seungjun’s head, threading her fingers through the long, blonde locks. Seungjun presses herself against Hyojin’s front, backing the pair of them up into the mirror. Hyojin’s hand tightens in Seungjun’s hair and Seungjun whimpers in enjoyment. 

“Wait, wait, we—” Hyojin breaks out of the kiss, whispering. “We can’t do this here, people will hear us. We’re gonna get kicked out.”

“No, c’mon, I can be quiet,” Seungjun whispers back, desperate. 

“Like hell you can,” Hyojin argues. She grabs Seungjun’s ass and Seungjun gasps loudly before clapping a hand over her own mouth. Hyojin gives her an amused look. 

“That’s not fair,” Seungjun whines. “I promise I’ll be quiet. And it’ll be quick.”

“Will you?” Hyojin asks, flipping them around to press Seungjun into the mirror. Hyojin can never fight Seungjun for long though, she always gives in eventually. She wants her too much, needs her. 

Seungjun braces herself with one hand, covers her mouth with the other. Hyojin finally reaches for her skirt, pulls it up just enough to reach underneath. It’s exactly like she thought, Seungjun is already plenty wet. 

“Oh wow, this really will be quick. You like doing it in public that much? Like it when everyone can hear how slutty you are? You really are a pervert, just like I said.”

Seungjun whimpers quietly into her hand, nodding. Hyojin laughs at her derisively. 

“Aw, aren’t you obedient? Good, stay quiet now.”

Hyojin reaches into Seungjun’s underwear, rubbing two fingers along her slit. Seungjun is wet enough that Hyojin doesn’t think she’ll need much help taking her small fingers. Hyojin circles her clit a few more times before teasing her hole with the tip of her middle finger. She reaches her free arm around Seungjun’s torso to grope at her breast and Seungjun whines again, louder this time. 

“Uh-uh, quiet. Quiet and quick, that’s what you said. You’d better hurry up and come before someone hears us,” Hyojin scolds her lightly. Seungjun nods her head desperately. It’s cute, it’s pitiful. 

Hyojin takes pity on her, pushing her middle finger deeper into Seungjun. Seungjun gasps, grinding into her hand. Hyojin pulls it in and out of her slowly, stroking the inner walls. Her index finger quickly joins in as well. 

Outside the changing booth, a sudden shuffle of movement occurs. A group of girls excitedly chatter amongst themselves, slowly walking past. Hyojin hears Seungjun’s panting breaths suddenly speed up. 

“Shhh,” Hyojin shushes her, leaning closer to whisper directly into her ear. “You don’t want them to hear you getting fucked, do you?”

Hyojin thrusts her fingers harder into Seungjun, dragging along her soft insides. Seungjun uncovers her mouth to whisper back to Hyojin. 

“What if I do?” Seungjun asks, voice murmuring in a quiet, whiny tone. 

“God, you really are a slut, huh?” Hyojin derides before kissing Seungjun’s neck and then biting down into the soft flesh. Seungjun lets a loud moan slip past her lips before Hyojin quickly slaps a hand over her mouth once again. 

“Quiet,” Hyojin snaps. The girls outside seem to pause, conversation lulling as they seem to wonder about the suspicious sound. Hyojin holds Seungjun in place, one hand knuckle deep inside of her, the other clamped over her mouth. Seungjun tries to squirm, but Hyojin holds her as still as she can. She is not about to get kicked out of one of her favorite clothing stores just because her best friend had to get fingered in public. 

Glancing at the mirror, Seungjun is a sight to behold. The bite on her neck is fresh, blooming pink and imprinted with the shape of Hyojin’s teeth. Her eyes are distant and dazed, staring at Hyojin in the mirror in front of her. Her legs are shaking, skirt bunched up over Hyojin’s arm to reveal the entirety of her legs, her squishy thighs marked up with the same aggressive bruises as her neck. Maybe she’s been chewing on Seungjun a little too much, Hyojin thinks. 

“You should come now. Come while they’re all listening to you,” Hyojin whispers into her ear. She pulls her fingers out of her hole to stroke her clit. Her hand moves in quick circles until Seungjun comes with a muffled sob, jerking against Hyojin’s fingers. She leans against the mirror as her knees start to buckle, and Hyojin finally stops touching her, instead opting to hold her weight and gently help her to the ground. 

They kneel on the changing room floor, and Seungjun lays back against Hyojin’s chest, head falling back onto Hyojin’s shoulder. They both turn to look at each other at the same time, and Hyojin feels like she might overflow with fondness at the sexy, sweet mess she’s holding. 

“I guess I’ll have to buy these jeans then,” Hyojin mutters, breaking the silence. Seungjun laughs, rolling her eyes. 

“What, did it make you that wet? You like me that much?” Seungjun jokes. 

“Shut up,” Hyojin says embarrassed, smacking Seungjun where her hand rests on Seungjun’s stomach. Seungjun laughs even louder, catching Hyojin’s hand and threading their fingers together. As her laughter dies down, she sighs, satisfied.

“I love you,” Seungjun admits. It’s unexpected; Hyojin lets out a startled laugh. Seungjun flinches, holding her smile as best she can. 

“Well aren’t you romantic, saying that after I fingered you in a changing room of all things,” Hyojin replies, rolling her eyes. She wants to play it tough, it’s hard to cross that line. But she meets Seungjun’s eyes and… her mood is totally flipped, of course it is. She looks like she might cry, which would be crazy, because is this really the time? Is this really what she wants? “I love you”s after fingerfucking in changing room stalls, running around in secret like this? Being the mistress? 

Seungjun deserves better than that. Seungjun deserves better than all of this. 

Seungjun looks really disappointed. 

“…Love you too,” Hyojin says, reluctantly. 

“…Well don’t say it if you don’t want to,” Seungjun says with a frown, starting to get up out of Hyojin’s lap. 

“No, that’s not— I just—” Hyojin grabs Seungjun’s hand, still kneeling on the floor while Seungjun stands above her, looking down expectantly. 

“I just… I wanted to say it at a more romantic time. You should’ve at least waited until, like, dinner or something,” Hyojin admits. She feels her face turning red. 

Seungjun’s expression morphs from worry to relieved joy. She’s always worn happiness well, a smile, high, bubbly cheekbones, eyes squished into crescent moons. Hyojin kind of wants to make it her life’s mission to ensure Seungjun’s happiness at all times. 

“You— don’t worry me like that next time! You’ve gotta stop being such a tough guy, it’s bad for my heart,” Seungjun whines with a grin, swinging their joined hands back and forth. 

“Sorry. You— you know how I am.”

“Mhmm. Now get up, stop kneeling like that, it’s embarrassing,” Seungjun tugs on Hyojin’s hand and Hyojin stands. “Let’s go buy our clothes.”

Changyun and Hyojin fall into an easy routine. Changyun stays at work a little less, and Hyojin leaves the house a little more. They see each other less and less, but Changyun can’t find it in himself to be upset. The less he sees Hyojin, the less he has to feel guilty for the long spans of time he spends mentoring Yuto, watching him, wanting him. 

And anyway, he’s glad she’s spending more time with her friends, with Seungjun especially. He's always wondered what it might be like to have a close childhood friend like that. 

It’s good that they’re spending more time together, really. 

It’s just that…

…well, there’s something unsettling about it all. 

Firstly, there’s the way Hyojin has gone from upset to completely unbothered about Changyun’s constant absence. Her constant side eyes and troubled questioning have completely ceased. That should be a good thing, but Hyojin has never been one to drop a grudge without ample reason. Changyun hasn’t given her any reason to be less upset. 

And then there’s… the outings. Hyojin often comes home late at night, if she comes home at all. Often she spends the night with Seungjun. She says it’s because she doesn’t like to wake Changyun up by coming in as he’s trying to sleep. And this reason really should be adequate, but… there’s something nagging at the back of Changyun’s head. 

He really shouldn’t be upset. What right does he have to be upset about this when he was the one who wanted to see her less in the first place? If anyone deserves to go out and enjoy their life, it’s her. 

There’s one night though, one night he keeps replaying in his head, over and over. 

It’s past midnight. Changyun had opted to stay up late to watch a movie, and he’s thinking about whether or not he should head to bed when the keypad on the front door beeps and clicks open. Hyojin is back. 

Hyojin is back, and her hair is messy. That’s excusable, it’s been windy these days, but what catches Changyun’s eye is her makeup. 

“Oh, you’re still up,” she observes, taking her shoes off, putting her bag on the shelf. She steps into the light and…

“You— your lipstick is smudged,” Changyun points out, and for a moment, Hyojin looks startled. 

“Ah,” she reacts, wiping the outside of her mouth with her index finger. “Must’ve been from eating. I wonder why Seungjun didn’t tell me.”

And that’s that. 

There’s something weird about it. It’s weird that she would come in like that, weird that no one would have pointed it out to her…

It’s weird that she was wearing makeup in the first place. 

Changyun can’t remember the last time Hyojin did her makeup before going out, especially for something as casual as hanging out with Seungjun. 

It’s weird. And Changyun has half a mind to ask Seungjun what exactly is going on, but he doesn’t know exactly what to ask. “Is Hyojin actually hanging out with you?” What else could she be doing? 

Unexpectedly, Seungjun reaches out to him first. 

Hey, it’s been too long since we all hung out. We’re all gonna go out for dinner on Friday. You and Hyojin should come.

Changyun knows exactly who she means when she says “we’re all” going. Minkyun and Jaeyoung will probably be there too. The five of them were inseparable back in college. Changyun roomed with Minkyun and Jaeyoung for years, all the way up until he moved in with Hyojin. They’re still plenty close of course, but their time hanging out as a five person group had slowly been whittled down into mostly one on one hangouts, workouts with Jaeyoung, cafe visits with Minkyun. The last time Changyun recalls seeing all four of them all at once was Seungjun’s birthday, a day none of them were ever allowed to skip. 

Before he can overthink it, he texts back. 

Sounds good, I’ll tell Hyojin. When and where?

This is how Changyun ends up pulling up to their old favorite chicken restaurant late at night, stiff yet excited Hyojin in tow. The night air is cold, damp with a spring shower having just passed through. When he opens the door to the restaurant, he’s hit by a blast of warmth, the scent of freshly cooked chicken and sauce. 

Changyun holds the door for Hyojin before entering behind her. They stand in the doorway for a moment, scanning the room until Changyun’s eyes fall on Seungjun, grinning broadly and waving them over. 

“Hyojin! Changyun!” She calls out across the restaurant. Hyojin begins to make her way over, but stops when she notices Changyun standing still in the doorway. 

In the booth, beside Seungjun, sits Yuto. Minkyun is chatting animatedly with him and Yuto seems amused, stifling a grin. Yuto looks unfamiliar in such casual clothing, but also softer, also cuter. The plaid shirt he wears over his plain tank top is oversized, sleeves cutely reaching past his wrists, over his palms. Changyun’s heart jumps to his throat. What is he doing here?

“Come on, what are you doing?” Hyojin asks, annoyed. She grabs Changyun’s hand and practically drags him over to the table. To her, it must look like his usual anxiety; the restaurant is crowded and loud, and Changyun always was a bit stilted in social situations like this. 

She has no idea about Yuto. 

When they finally get to the table, Seungjun tries to scoop Hyojin up into a hug. Hyojin wrestles away from her grabby arms though, and shoves Changyun into the opposite side of the booth, sliding in next to him. This squishes him right into Jaeyoung’s side, and places him directly in front of Yuto. 

“Hey,” Yuto greets Changyun, simply. 

“…Hi,” Changyun replies. 

“Who is this?” Hyojin asks 

“He’s Yuto! He’s my assistant at work. He’s cool though, I thought you guys would like him,” Seungjun introduces. “Yuto, this is Hyojin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuto greets cordially. “You’re married to Changyun, right? That Hyojin?” 

“That’s right,” Hyojin replies with a laugh. “Is this not weird for you? Hanging out with your boss and her friends?”

“Nah, Seungjun and I have already been hanging out a bit anyway. Changyun too, we work together a lot,” Yuto says, eyes darting over to Changyun. 

“Really? Changyun never mentioned anyone new at the office,” Hyojin replies offhandedly. 

“He hasn’t? Well, he’s been helping me basically everyday now. He’s a really good resource when it comes to visual design, so I like running my projects by him,” Yuto explains. He and Hyojin both look to Changyun, as if awaiting an explanation. Changyun freezes, feeling panic rise in his chest. 

“Oh uh, well, me and Hyojin don’t really talk much about, like… work and stuff, so… I mean nothing special happened, there was really no reason to mention…” Changyun tries to explain. 

“Aw, and here I thought I was special to you,” Yuto complains jokingly. His eyes are sharp as usual though, and Changyun feels like they’re cutting straight into his soul. He forces out a nervous laugh, trying to pretend everything is normal, and Hyojin seems unphased, already starting to open the menu. Why is Yuto putting him in this position?

“You’re a lifesaver Changyun, thanks for showing my young protege the ropes,” Seungjun adds. She’s looking at Changyun with some intensity as well, and Changyun is truly, fully freaked out now. It occurs to him that if Yuto and Seungjun have become close as friends, it’s possible he’s told Seungjun about what’s gone on between them. And if Seungjun finds out… Hyojin surely won’t be far behind. 

Squished in the booth between Jaeyoung and Hyojin, Changyun feels like a caged animal. He feels like livestock, like Seungjun and Yuto are just staring at him, thinking of what a delicious cut of meat he’s gonna be when they finally slaughter him. 

“Jaeyoung!” Changyun suddenly exclaims, turning to Jaeyoung as his only available exit strategy. “It’s been a while! How, uh, how are you?”

Jaeyoung perks up upon hearing his name, expression brightening up from its neutral state. 

“Hey, I’m good! It’s really good to see you, what’s been going on? How’s life been? You haven’t been coming to the gym much,” He starts, genuine interest immediately pouring out of him. Minkyun looks up as well, silent but obviously interested in joining. Changyun feels a small pang in his chest. Has he really been neglecting his friendships so much? 

“I’m okay, I’m… you know. Work has been difficult. I haven’t had much free time lately,” Changyun replies. “What about you? You look good you— gosh, have you gotten more muscular since the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m surprised you noticed! Yeah, I’ve been trying to bulk up lately,” Jaeyoung says with a smile.

“Any… particular reason? Or is it just for fun?” Changyun asks. He instinctively places a hand on Jaeyoung’s shoulder to feel the bulk in question, and Jaeyoung instinctively flexes to show off. Even through the fabric of Jaeyoung’s jacket, he can feel the hardness of a well-built arm. 

“No, I just wanted to be a bit… bigger? I slacked off a little bit during the holidays, so I just wanted to get some of that bulk back,” Jaeyoung describes. 

“That’s really all? You don’t have a girl you’re trying to impress, do you?” Changyun teases. 

“No, nothing like that. Girls aren’t really into the body-building thing anyway,” Jaeyoung laughs nervously. 

Changyun glances up and sees Yuto still watching him. He feels like Yuto is looking right through him, staring at the veins under his skin, his rapidly beating heart. He realizes belatedly that he’s still hanging onto Jaeyoung’s arm, petting his shoulder. He lets go of Jaeyoung suddenly, like he’s been burnt, and Jaeyoung gives him a look of mild confusion. 

But the dinner continues normally. It’s their typical mix of joking and making fun of each other, with an added splash of repeating old stories and explaining references for Yuto’s sake. It feels like they’re getting him caught up to speed on their friendship. He’s sliding into place exceptionally well, well enough that Changyun almost forgets his worries. He and Seungjun are already surprisingly close, sharing a couple of stories of their own. 

“—I mean, that kind of thing doesn’t surprise me though. The first time I met Changyun was when he slammed into me with a cup of scalding hot coffee,” Yuto adds on to a story Hyojin was telling, in which Changyun attempted to build a bookshelf several times, and by the time he finally finished it and started stacking books and other trinkets on it, it fully collapsed again. 

“Oh no, I remember this,” Seungjun laughs. “Didn’t you say he literally knocked you onto your ass? And he tried to wipe the coffee off your shirt with paper towels, but like, obviously that’s not really how fabric works…”

“Right, he’s a surprisingly sturdy guy, I dunno how he managed to knock me over like that. He was so awkward and embarrassed,” Yuto agrees. 

“What? Wait, when was this?” Hyojin asks, confused. 

“Maybe a month ago? I was still pretty new at the time. Why? You didn’t see him come in with a huge coffee stain on the front of his shirt?” Yuto laughs. 

“No?” Hyojin replies, and looks to Changyun for clarification. Changyun recalls that night with embarrassing detail, the image of Yuto sprawled across the floor in that suit of his, the coffee making his shirt transparent, and—

“I was just, uh, embarrassed! I didn’t want— I dunno, you didn’t look at me when I came in the door, so I figured I could just change, and then I wouldn’t have to tell you that I ruined my shirt. And it worked, so!” Changyun tries to justify. 

“God you’re such a weirdo,” Hyojin rolls her eyes dismissively. Changyun pouts, returning his attention to the fried chicken they’ve all been picking away at. He hears Seungjun make a comment, something like “isn’t marriage such a beautiful thing?” And everyone laughs with her. It’s not until Changyun has sufficiently stuffed his face with chicken that he feels it— a light drag over his ankle. He flinches, sitting back to try to look under the table. What he sees is a foot, jeans and a sneaker, stroking the side of his leg. It’s coming from just across from him, it’s coming from—

Yuto doesn’t even look at him, he has an elbow on the table, resting his cheek on his hand while he looks at Minkyun, completely enthralled by some kind of tangent Minkyun is going on about—

“—and I really, really thought Changyun was some kind of secret genius. Like, he was always reading and he had that aloof, chic kind of look, y’know? So I asked him to help me study and he waited until we were literally at a cafe together with our textbooks and stuff to mention that he was also failing the class?” Minkyun laughs. 

“Hey,” Changyun interrupts. “It’s because it was a statistics class. I'm really good at the arts and humanities, you know. You make it sound like I’m not smart at all.” 

“Hey, hey, I know I’m not one to talk. At least you actually finished your degree, unlike me. But you just looked so, like… like you really seemed like a valedictorian type or something, and you just weren’t. Yuto, do you wanna see what he looked like back then?” Minkyun turns his attention back to Yuto. 

“No, what is there to even show, I basically look the same,” Changyun argues, trying to reach across the table to stop him. Yuto helps Minkyun fend him off though, grabbing Changyun’s forearm and pushing it back until Minkyun finds a good photo. 

“See, look. He was kinda hot back then, right? All lean and muscular, and he had that really short haircut…” Minkyun compliments. 

“Wow, yeah it’s really short…” Yuto stares at the picture, really studies it, and Changyun can feel Yuto’s foot rubbing against his ankle, and—

“…I dunno. I think he looks better now,” Yuto’s gaze meets Changyun’s and it’s just as loaded as ever. The foot against Changyun’s ankle drags higher, up the calf, and—

Changyun’s knee slams against the bottom of the table. All side conversations lull as the five people around the table turn their attention towards Changyun. 

“What’d you do that for?” Hyojin asks, annoyed. 

“I, uh… sorry, I just need to uh, get up, I need to— to go to the bathroom,” Changyun decides. Anything to get away from Yuto, anything to get out of here. 

The look Hyojin gives him is severe. These days, it seems like she’s only ever uninterested or actively annoyed with him. She’s the latter right now, rolling her eyes as she stands to let Changyun out. He rubs his knee as he climbs out of the booth. It really hurt.

Changyun makes his way to the men’s room and locks himself in a stall. He runs his hands over his face, his tired, tired face. His skin feels like it’s buzzing, with adrenaline, anxiety, with desire, with guilt. He thinks of his time with Yuto in that cubicle, the numerous times Yuto’s used his body language to practically beg Changyun to do something, to take any kind of action. He thinks of Yuto’s hand, larger than his, on top of his, holding his hand down. He thinks of Yuto’s mouth beside his ear, his body behind Changyun’s back. He thinks of the scent of cologne lightly glazing the air, growing stronger as he grows closer. And suddenly he’s not in the desk chair, helping Yuto with his work. He’s bent over the desk, pressed into the desk, held down on the desk by Yuto. Yuto behind him, Yuto on top of him, Yuto inside him—

And Changyun is hard. Standing in a bathroom stall at a fried chicken restaurant, friends just outside, laughing and enjoying each other's company. And he’s stuck in here with one of the most embarrassing boners of his life. Hyojin is out there too. The Hyojin he sees in his mind is warped and cruel. She’s annoyed with him, probably belittling him to their friends while he’s away. Changyun wants to hate her, but all he can feel is humiliation. This is his own fault, after all. 

The ache in his heart mixes with, and then slowly replaces the feeling of lust. Changyun imagines the disappointed face of his mother, imagines his brother, mildly uncomfortable and disgusted, turning his back on him. He imagines Hyojin crying, cursing him out, some combination of words, like “how will I explain this to my mother,” and “how could you use me like this,” and there it goes. Works like a charm, no more boner. Great. 

Changyun exits the stall feeling less like a live wire of anxiety and more like a depressed, jittery hamster. Something pathetic and completely harmless. He washes his hands and makes his way out of the bathroom and back to the table. 

There is instantly a new problem. 

“Hey, sorry I took your spot,” Seungjun says as he approaches. It seems like Hyojin has moved down to the middle of the bench and Seungjun has slid into the end beside her, resting her head on Hyojin’s shoulder. This leaves only one spot open. The end of the booth, beside Yuto. 

Changyun feels like the universe is playing a trick on him. Like the world's lamest court jester. He looks Seungjun in the eyes and she looks downright thrilled. Maybe he was right, maybe Yuto really has told her everything that’s happened between them. Maybe this is her way of punishing him. 

Changyun has emptied his heart out now though. Hyojin looks happier beside Seungjun anyway. They’re really close. Changyun takes the seat beside Yuto. 

“I was just saying how we should hang out like this more. Why do I always have to be the one inviting everyone to get together? Don’t you guys want to see me too?” Seungjun fills Changyun in. She’s whining like a child, like it’s not that serious, but Changyun can tell it bothers her. It bothers him too. It bothers him that things don’t feel the way they used to, it bothers him that they might never feel like that again. 

It bothers him that if he does finally break things off with Hyojin, he’ll probably be the one left behind. Hyojin has always been an indispensable friend, a comforting presence to everyone who knows her. Changyun knows he’ll miss everyone, especially her, especially after all they’ve been through. 

“Of course we want to see you!” Jaeyoung agrees. “I invite you out all the time, but you never—”

“Inviting me to your gym doesn’t count! Why would I want to go to the gym?” Seungjun interrupts. Jaeyoung scoffs, laughing at her. 

“Well, I’m always free, just give me the word and I’ll be there,” Minkyun adds. 

“You’re not always free, you spend every waking moment at work! When was the last time you ate dinner with me? We literally live together and I still never see you,” Jaeyoung argues. 

“Well, but I can basically leave the studio whenever I want though… you just have to invite me…” Minkyun starts sounding sheepish. 

“Why do you keep leaving me on read then?” Jaeyoung fires back with a cute pout. Minkyun has no response, he just buries his head in his hands with a high-pitched shriek. He never was good at expressing his feelings. 

As everyone argues in front of them, Changyun startles, flinching as a hand touches his leg. Yuto has now placed his hand on Changyun’s leg, just above the knee. Again, he doesn’t look at Changyun when he does it. The hand makes its way slowly to the inside of Changyun’s thigh, sliding up, and… Changyun wants it. Changyun wants to enjoy the contact, wants his heartbeat to be anything other than dreadful panic. 

He takes a deep breath in, allowing himself to get lost in the innocent flutter of his heart, an automatic reaction. He feels excitement run through him just below the surface of all the guilt and fear, humoring it. He breathes back out, coming back to himself. He glances over at Yuto, and pushes his hand off. 

The change in Yuto’s expression is minute. There’s just a pinch of shock, a genuine confusion at Changyun’s actions. He doesn’t try to touch Changyun again, doesn’t even let their legs rest against each other. He doesn’t look at Changyun at all for the rest of the meal. 

Changyun only catches small glimpses of him at the office the following week. He doesn’t ask for Changyun’s help even once. 

“Are you really okay with this?” Hyojin asks, laying tangled in the sheets of her own bed. Seungjun stands nude, collecting her clothes from the ground. Changyun is out for the night, gone drinking with Minkyun, probably at some expensive, instagramable bar, reminiscing about college like old men. Naturally, Hyojin took the opportunity to fulfill her promise. She invited Seungjun into her own bed. 

“Hmm?” Seungjun hums, asking for clarification. 

“Are you… does it not bother you? Being the other woman?” Hyojin asks again. 

“Oh. Well, I guess not. I don’t feel like I am the “other” one. Because I know you don’t love him,” Seungjun answers casually. And that annoys Hyojin, somehow. It doesn’t feel right. But it is, isn’t it? Hyojin’s never loved anyone besides Seungjun, has she?

But then again, she’d convinced herself for long enough to get married. And anyway, what right does Seungjun have to say who she loves?

“What if I do love him? Maybe not romantically but… what if I care about him? I’m still with him, aren’t I? And he loves me.” Hyojin argues. Seungjun looks up to meet her gaze with a gentle smile. 

“But if you loved him, would I be here? Would you have let me into your bed like this, the one you sleep on with him? How much do you really care about him?” 

Her words make Hyojin irrationally angry. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t like Seungjun telling her about her own feelings, as if she knows better. Or maybe it’s because there’s some truth there. Maybe it’s because Hyojin doesn’t like that Seungjun is pointing out how cruel she’s being. 

“So you don’t feel bad about any of it?” Hyojin accuses. 

“I didn’t say that. Why, do you want me to feel bad? Do you want me to beg you to divorce him?” The bed dips as Seungjun returns to Hyojin, crawling over her body. Hyojin sighs with frustration. Seungjun laughs. 

“Why do you look so mad? Obviously this isn’t ideal. Of course I want you to be all mine. But that’s not my choice to make.”

“That’s the problem! You shouldn’t be okay with that, you should… you deserve…” she stops as Seungjun reaches up to run a hand through her hair. Seungjun’s face is dark, hair falling over one shoulder like a curtain, blocking the moonlight from reaching her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t deserve. I need you. I have to take whatever I can get.”

Before she can reply, Seungjun kisses her. Hyojin feels helpless as Seungjun’s hand leaves her hair to instead grab her hand. She laces their fingers together, pressing them into the bed. Hyojin imagines what her life would be like if she chose Seungjun over everything else. Even if she lost everything… she would have this. She would have Seungjun. Maybe the trade off would be worth it. Maybe this is a sacrifice she has to make. 

“Can I tell you something, Dinnie? Something about Changyun?” Seungjun murmurs to her when their lips finally part, tone shifting into something strange. She sounds serious. She sounds maybe… excited?

“What? What is there to say?” Hyojin asks, hesitantly. 

April is spring, and that means spring cleaning. Hyojin is always complaining about the amount of clothing that Changyun buys. Changyun is trying to do better though, shopping less, wearing each piece more often. This is what leads him to clean out their closet on a peaceful Sunday afternoon. Hyojin is out getting lunch, so he opens the windows and plays his own music, two things she hates. She always complains about her allergies when he opens the windows, coughing at the slightest hint of cold air, and she likes to make fun of his music taste. She isn’t here right now though, and surely she can put up with the fresh air in exchange for all the closet space they’ll have when he’s done.  

The closet really is way too packed Changyun sees, opening the closet door, and Hyojin’s clothing takes up only a small fraction of it, maybe thirty percent to Changyun’s seventy. What she lacks in clothes however, she more than makes up for in shoes. Collecting sneakers is one of her few hobbies, though she does so more casually than the average fanatic. It’s much neater and more organized than Changyun’s fashion hobby anyway; the floor of their closet is carpeted in a layer of colorful shoeboxes. They also take up a large portion of the shelf that sits above the clothing rack. 

Changyun gets to work pulling hanger after hanger off the rack, mentally debating about whether or not he should keep each item. He can’t bring himself to get rid of very many, sentimentality and general love of clothing making him doubt each decision, but he manages to accumulate a small pile of pieces that don’t fit as well, or aren’t really his style anymore. 

He goes to pull one last item out— a large coat in the very back of the closet— and it’s really stuck in there. He pulls harder and harder, and suddenly it’s released from the surrounding clothes. Changyun’s hand lurches up along with it, slamming into the upper shelf, and the shelf collapses. Changyun flinches, ducking as shoe boxes and spare blankets and various storage containers tumble to the floor around him. 

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. His hand throbs from the impact. He looks around at the mess. It shouldn’t be too difficult to tidy up, just shoving shoes back into boxes and folding up blankets, except…

Changyun bends down to one particular shoebox. It’s fallen upside down to reveal distinctly non-shoe contents. All manner of miscellaneous items have scattered from the open box. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the contents— Changyun sees several cutesy pens, a couple of old, worn journals, a golden snowflake ornament, some class photos, among other things. Maybe it’s just a memory box? Miscellaneous nostalgic items? 

Along with the class photos, there are several polaroids. They depict nature, buildings, Hyojin’s school and home. Many of them depict a young girl with long dark hair and chunky, blunt bangs. Seungjun, Changyun realizes. 

What an incredible thing it must be, for Hyojin to have this constant companion throughout her life, Changyun thinks. He’s a bit jealous, even. The relationships in his own life have often proved to be light, fleeting things. Sometimes he feels like he’s only holding on to Jaeyoung and Minkyun’s friendship by a thread, clutching at it for dear life.

Changyun does his best to repack all of the little knick-knacks into the box, hoping Hyojin won’t notice his accidental rummaging. When he goes to place one of the journals in the box though, he hesitates. Hyojin is a quiet woman, but it’s not like she’s never confided in Changyun before. They used to spend long nights on the couch, conversing, confessing the ugliest bits of their lives. Hyojin’s difficult home life, her love-hate relationship with her family. It’s not like Changyun wants to dig up secrets. If anything he’s just curious what a young Hyojin may have written like, what kinds of things she found important back then. Surely… surely she wouldn’t mind if he had just a peek. They’re married, after all. 

The spine of the diary crackles as Changyun flips it open to a random page. Hyojin’s handwriting is as neat as ever. The margins of the pages are decorated with stickers, pink bows and little woodland creatures— Hyojin’s private cute side showing itself. She writes:

Seungjun failed the math test today, so she didn’t want to go home after school. I did okay but I didn’t want her to be alone, so we went to the park together. I told her she was being dumb. Her parents would never get that mad at her, not scary mad anyway. She said they were probably gonna ground her though, since she failed the last one too. I told her we should study together next time. I think it would be fun, I could teach her and stuff. We’re good at all the same things so it would be cool to be better than her at something. There were some kids at the park with a soccer ball, so we played soccer for a while until it started getting dark. I hope her parents don’t ground her. We were gonna have a sleepover soon

It’s cute, really cute. Juvenile concerns, and simple, innocent friendship. Changyun feels a pang of envy. He flips forward a few pages, to read another. 

I almost fell asleep in science class today. This chemistry stuff is sooooo stupid, it doesn’t make any sense. I’m not gonna be a chemist anyway, so why do I need to learn it? It’s so dumb. After school, Seungjun walked home with me and we went to the bookstore to buy some manga. She got another action manga and I got the newest volume of Nana and a volume of Fruits Basket. She likes to laugh at me and call me a girly girl for only reading romances, but she’s really one to talk. She’s always buying cutesy girly clothes and she likes lots of magical girl stories so she really has no room to laugh at me. I’m excited for the weekend so I can finally read my manga in peace. She’s gonna come over later in the day to sleep over though, so I won’t have that much alone time. I’ll have to read fast. 

It really is all just like that. Changyun can practically hear Hyojin’s voice reading off the entries. Her nagging and complaining to disguise how much she really cares about Seungjun. It’s sweet, she’s always been a bit of a closed book, even to herself apparently, keeping up appearances even in her diary. Changyun flips forward. The entries are all harmless enough, what’s the harm in reading one or two more? 

The next few pages have no entries though, Changyun finds. Most of them are left blank, with a couple containing deep black scribbles. When he finally reaches the next entry, it’s a different tone completely. 

I feel like I shouldn’t be writing this but I have to get this out. Seungjun told me she likes girls. She said she kissed a girl in our class, and I was so mad. Because she’s my best friend, so it just feels weird for her to be close to another girl like that. But then… we ended up kissing too. Like actually KISSING. For a while! She asked me how it was, but I was nervous and confused, so I told her I needed some time to think. But… I really think I liked it. And it would make sense, because I really don’t think I’ve ever had a crush on a boy, even though everyone in my class talks about their crushes all the time. Maybe this is what they meant, maybe this is what a crush actually feels like. I want to keep kissing her forever. I don’t know what to do, I can’t tell anyone. Seungjun is like the only person I talk to anyway so who am I supposed to go to about something like this? Is it weird to be like this? I can’t face Seungjun, I avoided her all day today. I feel like such a freak. I don’t think girls are supposed to do this. 

The further Changyun reads, the more shocked he becomes. He feels nauseous, like he’s uncovered something dead and buried, lost on purpose. He’s confused and worried; the sense of dread that’s been hovering over him expands into something much wider, transforming. He reads the next entry. 

Still avoiding Seungjun. She tried to come up to me for lunch but I walked away while she was talking to me. She looked so sad. I really hate doing this to her, but what else can I do? I can’t be like this. What am I gonna do? I really hate this feeling. I never wanna go to school again. I just wanna lay in bed all day. 

And the next

Mom is really mad at me. I asked her why girls can’t date other girls. She said it was something about God, and men and women being made for each other. She said women being with other women would go against nature. I just got so mad. I kept arguing with her, because I know gay people exist, there are people like that out there. But she got really upset. She hit me. She hasn’t hit me like that before. She said those people are degenerate freaks, and asked why I was asking. I got so scared that she might find out or hit me again, so I told her it’s because a girl in my class was saying she liked girls. She asked if it was Seungjun and I told her no. I was really really scared, she was so much more mad than she usually gets. I must really be a freak for being like this. I mean she’s right, it’s all the same in nature. Males go with females. So I must be really abnormal. I really don’t want to be like this. 

Changyun’s heart aches for the girl. He feels tears start to prickle at the corners of his eyes. The next entry reads:

When I was coming home from school today, I saw Seungjun in the field alone. It was really weird, she’s almost never alone like that. And I was really so sick of ignoring her. I miss her so much. So I went up to her and I saw that she was crying. I asked if she was okay and she said she was sorry for kissing me and that she was sorry I was gonna get dragged to hell with her. I didn’t know what to do, I’ve never seen her look that sad. So I just sat down with her and held her. I told her I wasn’t mad at her and she asked why I was avoiding her then. I told her I was scared. And she said she was really scared too. I told her we should forget the kiss ever happened and go back to being friends because she’s my best friend in the world. So we hugged and made up with each other. I’m so glad I don’t have to ignore her anymore. I still really wish we could just keep kissing and stuff, but I just can’t be gay. If we can just forget about it, maybe we can both find guys to be with, and then we won’t have to worry about it. I don’t know. I don’t want to be like that. 

And there it is, in plain text. Changyun’s head is spinning, and the anxiety swirling in his stomach has turned into outright nausea. It’s a lot to take in at once. 

There is, of course, a guilty feeling of relief. As it turns out, Hyojin was using him just as much as he was using her. It simplifies things, in a way. But at the same time… Changyun feels a deep sense of emptiness. Memories of dates, of intimate moments, holidays and birthdays spent supporting one another, late night conversations. Her body in his arms. His hand in her hand. 

As it sets in, the lack of love in both of them, the feelings still present become all the more pronounced. He’s always cared about her. How hurt is he allowed to be? 

Then, his heart begins to settle into a sick, dreadful feeling. Hyojin has been much more content lately, and much more distant. She has been spending nearly all of her spare time with Seungjun. 

His mind flashes back to Hyojin’s smudged lipstick and messed up hair. It flashes back to the grocery store, Seungjun’s neck covered in hickeys and bites. “She only danced with me,” Seungjun had said. Her eyes were black as pitch. 

There are so many pictures of Seungjun in this box. 

When Hyojin gets home, Changyun is nowhere to be found. The lights are all off, but the windows are still open. Hyojin lets out a frustrated sigh, kicking off her shoes and stepping inside. She moves around the apartment in a huff, closing all the windows a little harder than she probably should. 

“Seriously, what’s his problem,” she mutters to herself, making her way back to the kitchen to put away the leftover food she brought back for him. 

At that moment, the front door opens. 

“I’m back,” Changyun says out of habit. 

“Hey, where were you? You didnt say you were going anywhere. Also, why’d you leave all the windows open? You know I hate that, and it’s so dangerous to just leave them open when you aren’t here,” Hyojin begins nagging right away. The crash in Hyojin’s mood when she leaves Seungjun and returns home to Changyun is always fierce. 

“…I just needed a walk,” Changyun answers only one of her questions. She glares at him, disliking the answer. 

“Whatever. I brought you some leftovers, if you’re hungry,” she says nonchalantly. Changyun doesn’t reply. He takes a seat on the sofa, balling his hands into fists in his lap. 

“You good?” Hyojin asks. Changyun is silent, but not in the usual way. His expression is terrible and distant.  He looks like he has something to say. 

“I—” Changyun tries to start. “I just—“ and stops again. He takes a deep breath, fighting to get the words out, something he always struggles with when he’s overwhelmed. Hyojin’s expression morphs from confusion to concern. 

“I didn’t mean to look through your things,” he starts, turning to face her. Hyojin feels a spark of shocked anger flicker on inside of her. “I didn’t mean to, but the shelf fell down while I was cleaning out the closet and there was this box of just… of stuff. And… I know I shouldn’t have read your old journal—”

“What? You read the— like the old ones, the ones from when I was a kid?” Hyojin questions angrily. She recalls the box and its contents. It’s a sentimental mishmash of photos and trinkets and other such mementos. They all hold childhood memories, which means most of the items can be traced back to…

…to Seungjun. 

Changyun takes another deep breath. 

“You… You’re cheating on me, right? You and Seungjun… you’ve loved her all along. Right?”

Hyojin freezes. Her blood runs cold. A dizzy spell bowls her over and has her grasping at the counter to hold herself up, face paralyzed in an attempt to keep her composure. 

“What? You… what did you read?” Hyojin asks, after a stunned silence. 

“You loved her when you were kids. You kissed her and everything,” Changyun replies. Hyojin recalls the kiss. She recalls writing about it sweetly, innocently, before she had realized the real weight of their actions. She recalls having a meltdown, scribbling through the pages. Everything that mattered to her, she wrote about in that diary. 

“What? What are you talking about, you— what does any of that childhood shit have to do with now?” Hyojin fires back defensively. Maybe if she can just convince him, just make him doubt himself…

But she knows deep down, it’s no use. 

“You’re always with her, Hyojin. Going to eat, drinking, dancing, spending the night? And she’s got all those bites on her neck, and—” Changyun starts to get choked up. 

“And you seem… really happy lately.”

“Oh god, and you’re crying,” Hyojin throws her hands up, rolling her eyes. The nerve he has, to pretend he’s any better than her, to act like this innocent puppy, this bleeding heart. “You wouldn’t know how much time I spend with her, you wouldn’t know because you’re never here! What do you care?”

“Of course I care! Of course I know! But you don’t like it when we do things together, you don’t like my interests, you don’t share your interests anymore, you don’t— you don’t like… men. You said so in that old diary,” Changyun snaps, voice trailing off at the end. 

Changyun looks up and Hyojin is enraged. 

“Oh yeah? Well I’m sure you’d know all about liking men, wouldn’t you?” Hyojin bites. Changyun gasps softly. Hyojin feels a sick sense of satisfaction, her anger being fed. 

“What— how did you…”

“How did I know? I mean come on. A creative director marrying the most masculine woman he can find, agreeing to never have kids together, never caring about having sex, can’t even get it up when we do, you think you’re subtle?” Hyojin tears into him with a cruel smirk, walking from the kitchen to the living room to stand over him triumphantly. She looks down at his shocked, pathetic little face and continues. “Actually, Seungjun told me everything. How are things going with the little guy, anyway? Yuto?”

“Yuto? There’s nothing to tell about Yuto! What does Seungjun know, fuck!” Changyun curses, rubbing his eyes harshly with his palms. 

“Seungjun knows everything! Did you seriously think he actually liked you? Seungjun was just using him to get proof, and you proved it! You could’ve told him off, could’ve made it stop, but you didn’t. You like men, you want him,” Hyojin accuses. 

“Are you kidding? She actually… they were…” Changyun’s upset at the betrayal shows clearly on his face. “Were you in on it too? Were you all just… messing with me?” 

“I wasn’t in on anything,” Hyojin rolls her eyes. “I really didn’t know Yuto before last week. But Seungjun was always suspicious of you. She told me about it afterwards.”

“For what? She just wanted to… to get rid of me, to get to you?”

“Why does it matter? You’re gay, I’m gay, we shouldn’t even be together in the first place.”

“Of course it matters, I— you could’ve just talked to me, either of you! Both of you! Why this?”

“You could’ve talked to me too! Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone if you’d just told me instead of working yourself half to death because you hate me so much!”

“I— I’ve never hated you! I hated myself! I hated that I was— that I am a… a freak!” Changyun shouts. 

“Good! So we both hate you then, there’s something we have in common!” Hyojin shouts back. They’re both shouting now, tension breaking and crackling into fury and fire. 

“So you never cared about me at all then? It was all fake, you never— you never felt any guilt the whole time you were…”

“The whole time I was what? Fucking Seungjun? The only thing I felt was fantastic,” Hyojin spits. It feels like catharsis, sweet vengeance. For just this moment, Changyun stands in for every frustration— the cold, emotionless apartment, the too-large bed, the nights spent eating alone, the nights spent eating together, the cutting words of her mother, the suffocating pressures of her family.

Then, Changyun wipes his tears. His face switches from confused and upset to blank detachment. He takes a shaky breath and rises from his place on the couch. 

“Sure. Fine. If that’s how you feel, I won’t hold you back. I’ll… I’ll find the paperwork and we can get a divorce.”

“Fine! Kick me out! I’ll just pack my shit then,” Hyojin shouts after him as he retreats to the bedroom. 

“I’m not kicking you out. Stay or go. I don’t care,” Changyun replies, voice crackling, watery. Hyojin can’t help but roll her eyes again. He obviously does care. 

“And by the way,” Changyun adds, standing in the bedroom door frame, “I don’t know what Seungjun told you, but I never cheated on you. I turned Yuto down.”

And Hyojin doesn’t really care. But that does pull a reaction out of her, a nauseous sort of guilt. 

It doesn’t matter. They can’t change who they are. 

When Seungjun arrives at Hyojin’s apartment complex, her already racing heart starts beating even faster. Hyojin sits on the curb, huddling into herself. Beside her is a large duffel bag. Seungjun parks the car and rushes over to her. 

“Jinnie, hey, what happened?” She asks worriedly, crouching down to meet her eyes. She doesn’t look like she’s been crying, but she looks like maybe she should, just to relieve some of the pressure of whatever is eating at her. 

“He found us out, Seungjun,” is all she says before picking up her bag and walking to Seungjun’s car, tossing it in the back seat. 

“Huh?” Seungjun calls out, hurrying after her. “He— are you okay? Did he do anything?” 

“No, fuck, it’s Changyun we’re talking about here. I’m fine, I just… I can’t be in there right now,” Hyojin admits. “You’ll… let me stay with you, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever you need,” Seungjun replies eagerly. She does her best to mask the excitement welling up within her. She’s never been able to react to Hyojin properly. Hyojin’s anger turns her on. Hyojin’s kindness makes her squirm. And now, Hyojin’s sadness gives her a sick sort of satisfaction. It’s not that she wants Hyojin to be sad or anything, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping for things to finally come to a head like this. 

The car ride is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The silence is never uncomfortable between them. When Seungjun is at a stoplight, she glances to her side to see Hyojin leaning against the window, deep in thought. She looks resigned, unhappy but not miserable. Seungjun can work with this. She’s happy to. 

When they arrive at Seungjun’s apartment, Hyojin lets herself in, typing in the door code and entering like she owns the place before Seungjun even makes it up the stairs. Once inside, she sees Hyojin has made a beeline for the fridge and is already digging through her food to find a good snack. She can’t help but let out a soft chuckle. 

“Hungry?” She asks. 

“Mm,” Hyojin hums in response, before pulling out a container of pasta. “Can I have this?” 

“Uh… well…” Seungjun has half a mind to tell her no, given how great the pasta is. But Yuto’s fantastic home cooking is probably exactly what Hyojin needs to start feeling better. “…Okay, sure.”

Hyojin heats the pasta in the microwave as Seungjun goes to sit on the couch. Hyojin joins her when the pasta is finished reheating. Seungjun smiles when she sees two forks in the container. 

She doesn’t interrupt the silence as she usually would. They eat the pasta together and she scrolls on her phone as Hyojin stares blankly into the distance. It isn’t until the container is completely empty that Hyojin finally speaks. 

“Did you make that?” She asks, voice light and gentle. 

“Huh? Oh, the pasta? No, no it was actually Yuto! He’s a really great cook, right?” Seungjun replies happily. 

Hyojin nods in agreement. She takes a deep breath and sighs, sinking back into the couch. Seungjun joins her, throwing her arm over the back. 

“So… what does this mean?” Seungjun asks. She wants to be cautious, but she really can’t help herself.

Hyojin glances at her with a stressed-out glare, and then looks away. 

“I dunno,” she takes a deep, shaking breath. “My parents are gonna be pissed. They probably won’t ever talk to me again. It’s over with Changyun. I dunno if he’ll bring this to the office but it might impact your job. It’s all fucked now. But you probably just want me to tell you whether or not I’m gonna date you, right?”

“Excuse me?” Seungjun scoffs. “Just because we fuck now doesn’t mean I stopped caring about your personal life. I’m concerned about you, Hyojin. Whatever happens to us can wait.”

And to her credit, Hyojin’s face immediately softens into an apologetic look. “Right. Right, I’m sorry,” Hyojin apologizes sheepishly. And Seungjun doesn’t take much offense; she knows how Hyojin is, knows she gets prickly when she feels hurt or threatened. She knows how to back down when it matters though, or at least, she knows how to back down when it matters to Seungjun. 

“I’m scared,” Hyojin quietly admits. “This was so stupid. We’ve really screwed up this time. I really screwed up.”

“Well, It’s not pretty,” Seungjun starts, “but we did it to ourselves. We just have to keep moving forward.”

“Right,” Hyojin agrees, but she still looks freaked out. She’ll probably be in fight or flight mode for the next few months, Seungjun guesses. 

“And hey. You know I’m on your side. I’ll always have your back, okay?” Seungjun tells Hyojin. She uses the hand that had been rubbing Hyojin’s back to wrap around her shoulders instead, pulling her closer. 

“Okay,” Hyojin says, finally allowing herself to lean further into Seungjun’s space, giving in to the arm wrapped around her. After a period of silence, Hyojin glances up at her. 

“Junnie,” she starts, and Seungjun’s heart is already doing cartwheels around her chest. The nickname never fails to make her heart flutter. 

“Can I kiss you?” Is what Hyojin finally asks, and Seungjun is over the moon excited. 

“Of course,” she replies, Hyojin’s face already hovering a couple centimeters in front of hers. 

Hyojin closes the gap. The kiss is sweet and gentle, and Seungjun knows everything will be fine. She doesn’t care if she has to go into awkward meetings with Changyun in HR, or even if she flat out loses her job. She doesn’t care if all of their friends ditch them, if they have to move all the way across Korea to find peace. She doesn’t care if their lives are harder from here on out. Hyojin is the only thing Seungjun needs to be happy. Hyojin will be her fulfillment, her joy, her reason for life, just as she always has been. Seungjun will kiss Hyojin in public, and Hyojin will kiss her back.