In Good Taste [Part Ten]
Title: In Good Taste [Part Ten]
Pairing(s): YulTi
Rating/Genre: R; Coming Out, Girl-Meets-Girl
Disclaimer: I don’t own Soshi. I don’t own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Warning(s): Small snippet of sexiness, but you’ll live.
Author’s Notes: Omgomgomg this is the home stretch, people. I’m getting close-to-end-fic jitters. If you’ve creeped my Twitter, I’ve mentioned possibly writing TaengSic for my next ongoing. I’m pre-outline for that, though. I miss their chemistry. Check out my A/N for another little question for y’all~
Yuri
--
The timing of Yuri’s promotion couldn’t have occurred at a more ideal time. Using ‘ideal’ relatively, of course, since she’d been hit with a double whammy of disaster.
One being the aftershock of Taekwoon’s fight. As she buffed each checkout desk of spilt glitter and the debris from shedding wreaths, his words lingered. Especially that ‘penniless’ remark. Damn, he’d really went in on her. While his apology that night seemed sincere, the wreckage that was her self-esteem kept her from returning home. ‘Home’ being used loosely.
For the other disaster, she owed a big, fat non-thankyou to Sooyoung, who hadn’t returned her calls after her outburst. Yuri would’ve gone further to investigate. Dropping by her and Han’s (groan) condo or sneak-attacking Soo with hugs until she broke her silence. Both options worked in the past. Although, Yuri was only human. She’d been made shambles of by two constants in her life.
“What’s this?” Jea snatched the wet rag from Yuri’s grip. Lifting it by the end of her pen, eyebrow raised. “This isn’t your responsibility anymore, manager trainee.”
Yuri feigned offense. “I’m not suddenly too good to clean, miss.”
“Ha. You’re avoiding that stack of paperwork in the front office, aren’t you?”
A promotion meant dividing time on the floor with new product booklet reading, countless meetings with higher ups, and display rearrangement based on vague schematics. Tedious, yet not unpleasant. “It’s an intimidating stack.”
She patted Yuri on the arm, beaming. “You’re doing great, Yul. Keep it up.”
Jea, most beloved of beloved supervisors, provided sanctuary for the past week and a half (ten days since Yuri and Taekwoon’s fight, ten days since Sooyoung’s silence started, ten days of self-pity). When she spotted Yuri bawling like a toddler during her break, she offered her shoulder. A comforting arm at her waist. Yuri relayed a PG-rated, gay-absent version of her story. Enough for the senior manager to offer a spare bedroom until Yuri figured out her next steps.
A blessing, really, because she didn’t point a finger at Yuri, reminding her to blame herself. She’d proven herself a friend. So, Yuri accompanied Jea home, met her husband, their two miniature schnauzers, and engaged in a refreshingly non-caustic dinner.
Her other form of emotional solace came from the warrior presently known as Tiffany Hwang. News of the fight put a fire she’d never heard in Tiffany’s voice. Thus, Yuri accepted another person as her aide. To protect her, knowing the past and her involvement. But, as Tiffany had phrased it, Yuri couldn’t heal herself without these trials. She also yielded several gracious apologies for her part in it all-barring the sex. “I’d never regret that, oh my god,” her sexy defender murmured into the phone one night.
In a whole other phone call, she frazzled her parents with her “Taek and I are through” announcement. Normally, they stayed out of her hair, trusting Taekwoon to be her knight in shining armor. But following a confession that gigantic, Yuri had been dodging their call backs until the dust cleared. The only specific she’d left them was that she had a safe place to live.
And Tiffany would’ve opened her apartment to Yuri, she knew it. However, it felt like a weakness to add stock to her ‘user’ title, so she’d been quick to accept Jea’s generous hand.
Back to the ‘ideal.’ A managing position’s obligations surpassed a pay raise and a better set of shirts (less polos, more emblemed button-ups!). They turned out to be useful distractions from her drama. For two days, she’d reported to off-site training seminars: attending small group sessions with similarly ranked people from other Craftie’s chains, clicking through PowerPoints of common-sense solutions, and watching a crap ton of outdated simulation videos that belonged in a vintage time capsule. Jea threw a her little congrats party during an early shift (cake decorated by the baking team, balloon hats, a gift card in a polka dot envelope) and it actually improved Yuri’s mood.
Nonetheless, ten days without Sooyoung were ten days without Sooyoung. Ten days that doubled as sexless, too. What she and Tiffany shared shouldn’t be gloomed by her own transgressions. So, she put a pin in any in-person hangouts. Tiffany deserved her at her best. And her best required her friend’s forgiveness.
So, on this tenth day, Kwon Yuri cornered Sooyoung in the scrapbooking section, Soo’s domain. Heart racing, she reached into her apron and revealed a newly assembled name tag. “For you.”
Sooyoung smirked, possibly even blushed, as she hooked it to the breast of her polo. “I gotta say, it’s been a nice case study of what customers call me when I’m nameless. My greatest hit’s been ‘Hey, you, Sticker Lady.’”
“I’m splitting my lunch with you. No arguments.”
“Is that how you bag your women, Kwon?”
A joke. A lesbian joke. She’d missed Sooyoung so much. “Only when they’re stubborn and ghost me for days.”
Pain swept over Sooyoung’s eyes. Her smirk faltered. “Why is your lunch so big?”
Because Jea’s husband cooked enough meals for five homeless Craftie’s workers. Free lunch! “To tempt my big-mouth friend into spending forty minutes with me.”
“Instead of a thirst trap, you’ve deployed a hunger trap. That’s low.” She’d returned to unloading a shipment of die cutters, leaving Yuri to sweat until she muttered, “My lunch break’s at three.”
Managers set their own break parameters. Why’d she cower from applying for so long? “Then, so is mine.”
…
“Dare, I ask,” Sooyoung sank her teeth into chicken cutlet, eyes rolling in ecstasy, “where’d you get this spread?”
By, ‘spread,’ she meant the container Yuri haphazardly stuffed with leftovers. Broiled eel and kimchi fried rice and kimbap and grilled tofu and more. The works, essentially. Their breaks tended to breeze by, so she couldn’t beat around the bush. She set the food in between them on a bench near Craftie’s. The bright, sunny weather called for them to step out of the monotony of retail for a spell. “Jea’s husband.”
“That’s cryptic and weird. Explain.”
“I’ve been staying at Jea’s house. In, um, their extra-ish room.” She scooped out rice with a pair of disposable chopsticks. Chewing slowly, taking in Sooyoung’s eyes growing more and more concerned. “Taek and I broke up.”
Sooyoung’s shrug wasn’t dismissive; it reflected someone groping for an adequate response. “I thought you’d already broken up.”
“No, no. That was a stroll in the botanical gardens compared to…ten days ago.”
Conscious of their limited time, Yuri spit off a short, yet detailed summary of the Taek argument, him finding out about Tiffany’s sleepover, his threat to rebound hookup with some random woman.
And, in true Sooyoung fashion, she merely came back with, “Wait, so you and Tiffany got it on?”
That had been implied when she called it ‘staying over’ with her eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah.”
“Yul.” Her friend rubbed her hands within a napkin. Eyes less concerned and more…misty. “You slept with her?”
“Y-yeah, I did.”
“Did it blow your mind?”
Oh god, the dance of Tiffany’s tongue, the delicate press of her body behind Yuri, taking her the morning after. “I finally understand the world’s the fixation on sex.”
Sooyoung whipped Yuri into an unexpected hug. “Girl, that news is stupendous! Fucking-literally-amazing!”
“Seriously?”
“Hell yes.” She moved backward, holding Yuri arms-length. “I should’ve known. You’re glowing.”
Yuri’s cheeks burned in an fervent blush. Honestly, she’d felt the glow, too. “I’d give everything to be her girlfriend.”
“Are you stupid?”
At that, Yuri balked. In time for Sooyoung’s eyes to twinkle, for her to add, “Yul…you’ve sacrificed your live-in boyfriend. Your security. Your sense of right and wrong-at least, temporarily. Your privilege-you’re now, by default, included in a subjugated minority. It’s not everything, but you’ve given up damn well near close.”
“Thank you, Dr. Choi,” Yuri’s eyes watered, so affected by this acceptance. “So, what do I do about Taek?”
“Taek. Right.” Sooyoung twisted her lips, poking at the chicken. “Fast forward to a year from that day. What do you want?”
Yuri sighed. She’d been so caught up in the present’s drama. Thoughts of the future and what promise it held fell by the wayside. “Tiffany, obviously. My own apartment. Um, stable pay. Maybe an…an aquarium?”
Sooyoung snorted at the last bit. “I didn’t hear anything about Taek in there.”
“Well,” Yuri’s defense halted when she noticed Sooyoung’s approving smirk. “I’d like if Taek and I were civil, maybe even cool with each other.”
“That’s secondary information. Breakups influence everyone differently…” Her eyes dimmed, tipping off Yuri’s very own Sooyoung-o-meter. “Civil or not, that relationship’s run its course. Your fantastic sex with Tiffany should be your wakeup call, woman. You had an inkling of something even I couldn’t see and you tackled it head-on. Kudos.”
Yuri’s brain cranked to high gear as they ate for the next few minutes. Sooyoung, while forever helpful, rarely passed up every salacious part of a Taekwoon story this magnitude. Hell, the subject of the rebound girl should’ve had her transfixed and prone to hunt the lady out on social media.
Her heart dropped somewhere into the bottom of her stomach. She’d been shutting Sooyoung out. Expecting an undercover agent’s caliber of lying on her behalf. Like, when were her wedding plans going to start? What stresses of work had her tired at the end of the day? How was she doing? Being gay wasn’t an excuse for sloppiness. Everyone, including straight people, needed their space to vent. “Soo…you mentioned something about ‘issues’ when we spoke that one time. What issues?”
“Sure you can handle it? Will you call me a ‘damn whore’ again?”
Yuri winced. “I didn’t mean that.”
Sooyoung stuffed kimbap into her mouth. She’d brushed her pink hair into an out-of-my-face situation atop her head. Still picturesque, Yuri’s striking best friend.
“Sooyoungie,” she tried again. “What issues?”
“Taehyung.” When Sooyoung was met with a dumb face, she explained, “the flower boy from the club.”
“What about him?”
“I slept with him.”
Instantly, Yuri felt much more than a dropped heart. This was a bomb. “Wh-when did-”
“That same night.” Sooyoung wiped her mouth clean. “I was-uh, am-lonely. He’s a sweet kid, really. Just sweaty. And a surprisingly good lay.”
“Are you two a thing?”
“Oh, fuck to the no. I can’t suffer over a one-night blip in my life. He and I talked, kissed, he gave me the, erm, the hickey. I liked the tent in his pants, so he sprang for a hotel room.”
Shit. All this happened? Where’d Yuri been? Oh, right. Swooning over Tiffany Hwang. “I gotta admit I’m speechless.”
“I showed you just the hickey, to gauge your response. When you asked no follow-up questions, I assumed you didn’t care.” Her breath shuddered weakly. “I…came clean to Han and a whole thing happened.” She waved to seem glib and failed. She looked miserable. “We broke up.”
“When?”
“After Taek spent the night. Han went on one of his tirades-as he’s apt to do-grandstanding on why he’d never be,” Sooyoung held up her fingers to quote, “‘Such a bitch’ if a woman ran around on him. That he had the sense of a bald eagle, something stupid. It pissed me off so much that I just blurted it. I had no intention to tell him. You were on your own cheating spree, which still disappoints me, but you’d become pretty useless. No offense.”
“Oh, no. So, before, when I criticized your engagement…”
“It seemed like you were rubbing my mistake in my face. I felt bad enough already; I couldn’t prove you right.”
“I’m so, so, so sorry, Soo. I-” Yuri’s throat bobbed as if she’d gag up her lunch right there on the bench. “I wouldn’t have judged you-”
“You did judge. Solely because our relationship didn’t fit a standard you couldn’t follow yourself. We couldn’t follow ourselves...”
“I understand,” she replied, sick enough to call out for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, she was new to this position, so that wouldn’t fly. “Please don’t ever, ever bear this kind of crap without me. No matter how self-centered or distracted I seem. I’m the worst.”
“Nah, you’re just in love.”
Unprepared to discuss that topic, Yuri moved the container from between them and fully embraced this friend, this woman who’d clearly been through just as much anguish for these past weeks. How in the hell could she forgive herself for not only dropping the ball, but flattening it beneath her heel?
Before long, they’d been reduced to people weeping publicly. As if they cared.
“Soo, what’s your living situation?”
“Cooped up with the ‘rents.” Sooyoung blew her nose into her wrinkled napkin. “Can you believe my dad admitted to hating Han’s guts all along? You think you know a guy…”
“I told my parents about Taek. Maybe I should bring up your broken engagement to take the heat off of me.”
She smiled. “Go for it.”
“Do you regret it? Telling Han the truth?”
As she tapped her phone for the time, she answered, “The long-term relationship, the home, the marriage. I wanted to get it all done and out the way, you know? It’s been drilled in our minds for so long.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“When you started to pull away, I projected onto you and I’m sorry for that. I’m mostly angry at myself.”
Currently, it’d be an inopportune moment to ask, yet Yuri wondered if Sooyoung considered herself relieved. She’d played her and Han’s impending nuptials as a burden, a roadblock to her social life. In fact, marriage could’ve exacerbated it. Provoked Soo to club more, to flirt more shamelessly with these dime-a-dozen males. To bed more Taehyungs.
No, Sooyoung deserved encouragement. “I haven’t seen your parents in a long time.”
“Or Tetris. That dog idolizes you.”
“I guess I’m that bitch.” They shared a brief grin. Melancholic grins. “If…um, if they don’t mind the extra company, I’d love to stay over tonight. We could catch up. Holding back nothing.”
“You’re the daughter they wished they’d reared, girl. You’re invited.”
“I’m sorry about Han.”
“Hey, that’s life, right?” Sooyoung struggled to sell her flippancy, her carefree smile. “Thanks, Yul.”
“My pleasure. I’ve missed you.”
As Yuri bagged up their napkins and the uneaten portions, Sooyoung rose to full height. Self-consciously fiddling with the name tag, straightening her throat. “So, Yul…”
“Yep?”
“I didn’t appreciate finding out about your new manager title with the masses, but congratulations.” She held her palm out to the onslaught of eventual apologies. “I’d iced you out and you had training. I’m not holding a grudge. But, um…”
Yuri remained seated, fearing another slap to her sense of comfort. “Speak to me, Soo.”
“I’m putting in my two weeks notice.”
“W-why?! Is it ‘cause of me?”
“Kinda.” Sooyoung glanced down to her black Converses. “It’s strange now, Yul. You’re a position over me. A boss in one way or another.”
Yuri bit her lip, not wasting her breath fighting this. She had a point; they’d been partners in crime as equals. This manager position created an imbalance, an awkward spot for their scheduling and duties. Like, she couldn’t even wipe off registers without a reminder. “Do you have any interviews lined up? I’ll type up a recommendation.”
“Relax there, eager beaver eater.” She dramatized an eye roll. “You can roleplay boss duties while I’m not around. Let’s be friends in the meantime.”
“I can do that.”
“Ma’s forcing me to take her to dinner and a movie after work, so…show up at my parents’ house around eleven? We’ll binge on one of the shittier dramas and eat our feelings in Ben & Jerry’s.”
“You know my flavors. It’s a date.”
“Cool.” Sooyoung eyed the time again, frowning. “I won’t cash in on your nepotism today. Maybe tomorrow you’ll carve me out an hour-long break?”
Yuri received a tight hug. Others might view a night of them watching beautiful celebrities fumble through plot and fantastical romances, consuming their weight in frozen dairy, and mourning their respective long-term relationships a sign of hitting an unfortunate low. Though, it would ignite a friendship that’d been ridiculously underused. Yuri trailed Sooyoung into Craftie’s Warehouse to find Jea. To tell her she and her husband had the house to themselves tonight.
…
With high hopes on what a sleepover with Sooyoung would entail, Yuri marched up the flights to Taekwoon’s apartment, dimly resenting how her once home became an unwelcome space. He’d be there at this hour, but after her shift at Craftie’s ended, she thought to parcel out more clothes into a suitcase. Also, her flat iron.
Her stomach flopped. What was the worst that could occur?
Another fight? A new set of scathing insults? A change of Taekwoon’s heart, where he begged for her to take him back?
She mounted the flight to her floor, marveling at the semi-plush rug formed over the final stairs. Those particular steps used to creak something awful and now-Yuri bounced, satisfied-they were whisper-quiet. Of all the days for their building management to spruce up the building, it had to have happened while she’d been MIA.
The front door phased into view. As she reflexively rooted into her bag for a key she didn’t need, two things impacted Yuri.
One, immediate dread.
And, two, a beautiful woman.
“Oh, oh,” the young lady gasped, her curled, shoulder-length hair swayed over her surprised face. “I’m, uh, I apologize-”
Yuri touched the girl’s elbow as a friendly gesture. Poor thing looked freaked enough to faint. “It’s cool.”
“Excuse me, excuse me, ex-excuse me, I’m, excuse…” she babbled at an incessant pace. Bowing and muttering and excusing herself right around Yuri, through the narrow hall.
That was…interesting. She glanced over at the retreating stranger, bemused, until she turned back to Taekwoon’s door. His ajar door.
He wouldn’t. Would he?
Curiosity winning out, she banged through the entrance, inciting a tiny jump from Taekwoon trashing empty takeout boxes. As he realized his visitor, his gaze settled into amusement. “Ah, Yul. Didn’t know you’d stop by.”
While true, it ticked her off, to be candid. He smirked as if a master plan had gelled into place. “You wasted no time, Taek.”
“I’m social while I’m single. You should try it.”
He was baiting her. Knowing how much she hated confrontation. “Why’d she look so terrified at me?”
“Who knows?” Taekwoon adjusted the roll of his sleeves. In navy slacks stopping at the ankle, a loosely buttoned shirt. A gold watch shined on his wrist. And his hair-shaved immaculately on the sides. “I see your Han cosplay’s successful.”
“We’ve been hanging out more than ever, yes. I needed someone on my side. Unlike you. Unlike Soo.”
Fuck, a dig at Sooyoung. The unfaithful, on-the-road-to-liberated women vs. their responsible ex-boyfriends. Well, ‘responsible’ pertained to Taek. Not so much Han. Alas, he wasn’t their problem anymore. “You two have merged, that’s for sure.”
“Is that bad?”
“Haircut-wise, no. I’d suggest not adopting his tool-ish ways. You’re better than that.”
“You make one fine judge of character.”
Yuri’s eyesight blistered red. She’d had enough accusations of judgement. People like Sinbi and Yoona were judge-y. Not her.
She freed her clunky suitcase from the closet and began emptying her dresser. She’d been beaten down enough, right? A girl had her limits.
Somewhere behind her, the Taekwoon she’d known reemerged. “Hey, Yul. Sorry for that.”
“I have no leverage in our arguments, Taek.” She tucked in several bras, tangling their straps in her haste. “I cheated, I brought the person here without your permission. I’m the bad guy. A bad guy who’s ready to just move the fuck on. You can beat this dead horse all you want, but I’m happy with my decision.”
“You’re happy living out of a bag?”
“I’ve had shelter, so don’t worry. It may shock you to find out people care about me.”
“Are you living with…him?”
“Hm?”
“You know. Him.”
Yuri forgot she hadn’t come out to Taekwoon. All the best that way. If he threw her sexuality in her face as some cheap shot, it’s break her heart. Not that it’d been fully repaired since their fight. “No. Jea, now Soo.”
“How is Sooyoung?”
“Devastated. She puts on a strong front, but I can tell.”
“That uh, the girl you ran into…” Taekwoon flopped onto the couch, next to the suitcase. Yuri wished she couldn’t notice his earnestly remorseful eyes. “She’s only a friend. More like a colleague. We mostly talked numbers over dinner.”
“You have no reason to defend yourself.”
“She’s smart. An accountant from the design firm, the most praised in her sector,” he murmured as if Yuri cared. “Sadly, she’s no you.”
“Don’t use her, Taek. Let’s…let’s try to be reasonable.”
Taek slacked a long arm over the open luggage, leaning to engulf Yuri’s attention, her gaze. “Please, don’t go.”
“After everything you’ve said? After everything I’ve done?” A pair of jeans creased over her forearm. “Why?”
“I love you.”
“Taek-”
“Soo and Han weren’t gonna get married, cheating or no cheating. Han’s not the marrying kind. His family pressures him.”
Yuri nodded, vaguely recalling that last tad of information once when Han drunkenly opened up to her in this very room. “They strung each other along.”
“They’re the kind…” He gently closed the top of the suitcase, fingers idling on its zipper. “They’re the kind of people who are flighty, free-spirited, too free to tie the knot. Han had the ability estimate our celebration night server’s bra size, yet he couldn’t even remember Soo’s preferred wedding season.”
Ugh, so he was perving on Jihyo. “Asshole.”
“And Soo spent her spare time dancing on dudes that weren’t Han. Hell, she’s partied with guys I’d even turn for.” Yuri gave an uncomfortable laugh, which Taek gained as initiative to zip further. “You and I-we’re grounded. On the straight and narrow. Besides this other man, I know everything about you. Could someone else really love you like I do?”
She’d lain on that very couch, Tiffany’s dark eyes reflecting dreams unrealized, their lips dry from passionate kisses. “What are you saying?”
“Unpack these bags. Live with me.”
“I can’t take anything else from you.”
“I’ll forgive you. Just…make me your home again.”
Years ago, those words would’ve worked on Yuri. That voice, those handsomely narrow features. And the fragility. “You mean that?”
“You’re my end goal, babe. Don’t subject yourself to years more at Craftie’s to prove a point. I’ll take care of you. For the marriage, kids, house on the countryside.” He snorted to himself. “A dog of your choice. Even the 200-pound ones that scare me.”
Taekwoon ticked so many quality boxes. There, baring it all, with a pope’s capacity of mercy.
She slid her hand over his, clutching it. “You’re a layered guy, aren’t ya?”
He sputtered into a chuckle, eyes wet. “Close your eyes. Picture your future.” Raising her fingers to his lips, he asked, “What do you see?”
Yuri complied, dedicated to this significant moment. Once the darkness swirled into the bright crevice of imagination, she allowed her mind the space to wander.
To a scenario not bogged down by money and a self-conscious attitude.
Envisioning not an apartment-maybe something larger and practical. Like a townhouse. A vacation bungalow for the summers. Her mother’s wedding dress tailored and modernized for her body, along with a necklace passed down for generations. Yuri brushed at the loop of her collar, feeling its coolness.
And children. With their black hair, their skin tan from running in the sun all day. Quirky, yet undeniably beautiful. Bee-stung lips. Possibly a crooked side tooth that added a unique charm. Another with knees so knobby they dented jeans.
All girls. No-two girls and a boy.
Three.
Her eyes sprang open.
Three.
For her vision down the aisle, she didn’t see Taekwoon. She’d pictured slim fingers between her own, nails manicured for the closeup shots by the photographer. Tiffany’s hands.
“Wow.” Taekwoon had been watching closely. “I’ve never seen you so at peace. What’d you see?”
“Taek,” she bent forth, sealing his cheek with a final kiss. “It’d be a disservice to keep you from a woman who’ll truly love you. I’m sorry, that’s not me.”
“How are you sure?”
Here it comes.
The impulse.
The motive to whisper onto his cheek, “Because I’m gay.”
Avoiding her ex-boyfriend calcified on the couch-bed where she’d talked dirty for the first time, Yuri filled the suitcase to its limit, mumbled an awkward goodbye, and closed the door on her heterosexual past.
…
Thank goodness for friends.
After that ordeal with Taekwoon, her reunion with Sooyoung couldn’t have come soon enough. They gabbed, gorged themselves on personal tubs of ice cream (swapping often, as they were prone to do), tummy-scratched Tetris intro a stupor, recounted every misstep (and triumph) of their days apart, and, of course, commentated through an all-night play of romance dramas. Oh, and also copious apologizing and sobbing, once Sooyoung’s mother dropped off four bottles of soju.
Sooyoung grilled Yuri about Tiffany, unsure herself if women demanded the same barrage of suspicion as men. Then, Yuri informed her of the run-in with Pink Halter. And her eyes were opened.
Nonetheless, Yuri fell into the receiving end of a lecture when her friend sussed out her short hiatus from Tiffany (in person, that is). With a wistful glance to the far-side, she reminded Yuri to savor the honeymoon phase. To not take it for granted.
Leaving her, two days later, in Tiffany’s bed.
“Ah,” Tiffany’s upper body contorted in pleasure. “Ah, honey.”
Yuri slowed her thrusting fingers, the squeezing around them nearly slipping them out of place. She held her tongue onto the prize, though, picking up on the ebbs and flows of Tiffany’s hips. Her lips suctioned, and that bit of friction sent the woman into a fit of strangled gasps. She kissed leisurely, firmly. Waiting for the eventual call to crawl up.
Tiffany palmed greedily at Yuri’s curved back, her ass. “How dare you make me wait almost two weeks for your sexy mouth.”
She bit her lip guiltily, yet cheekily. “FaceTime wasn’t enough, huh?”
“FaceTime never is.”
Yuri slumped onto her slender side, clumping handfuls of damp hair into a half-decent ponytail. “You missed me that much?”
“Wasn’t my greeting forward enough?” Tiffany had answered on the first knock to her apartment door. Eyes wild and so aroused, Yuri gasped. Then, another gasp as she flung Yuri to a wall and dropped to her knees. “I’ve missed your smile, your body,” She smoothed hairs around the other woman’s hairline, “your gorgeous hair, your jokes, your laugh…” The smoothing quickly glided between bare breasts, down between Yuri’s legs. “I missed…this.”
Beneath the heavy sensuality, Yuri’s heart ached something terrible. “One night of The Kwon and you’re hooked.”
“I’m milking this. Who knows when you’ll abandon me again.”
Though said with a smile, Tiffany’s eyes always betrayed their twinge of sadness. Yuri whimpered. “That was unfair of me, I’m sorry. Guess I’ll have to adjust my work-friend-Tiffany balance.”
The sadness lightened up. To a quiet hope, so to speak. “I’m not lumped with your friends.”
“Why would you be?”
Tiffany’s fingers, that’d slowed to a stop, picked up speed. “You tell me.”
The ability to talk missed Yuri. Her hips gained precedent, rocking with might, despite her overall fatigue. They’d been mating like bunnies for three hours. Yet, with priorities of its own, Yuri’s center took in two fingers. She braced a hand onto Tiffany’s headboard as she worked herself against deep passes inside.
She loved this about lesbian sex. Being an active participant.
“Say something dirty, Yul.”
Yuri gulped, letting go of her inhibitions to mutter, “I want to live on your fingers, Fany.”
“God.” Tiffany fluttered long lashes. Barely holding on. Arm buckling as her strength caved to desire. “Touch me.”
Elated at obliging to fourths (fifths, sixths, sevenths), Yuri accommodated their positions to do her favorite new task in the world: reciprocating.
…
The “straight” Yuri of month’s past wouldn’t have ever, ever conjured this in her future. A firm curvature of the world’s comfiest mattress giving into her form. Snuggled onto a gorgeous woman. Blissfully nude, opposed to throwing on a shirt. And smiling after sex. Legit afterglow.
Not to mention the conversation. It didn’t save her cents off dish detergent, but it saved on the soul.
“You and Sooyoung need each other more than anybody right now,” Tiffany sighed, troubled about their double-breakup situation.
Yuri blushed. Whispering, “Not anybody.”
They breathed into the warm air. Couple’s grin’s marking their lips like the nips and love bruises on Yuri’s skin.
“I don’t mind squatting at her parents’, but I think Soo’d rather claw her own eyes out than make it permanent.”
“She sounds fiercely independent.” Tiffany lifted her chirping phone, sighed, and thumbed out an email. To a client or something.
Either way, how she’d shifted into businesswoman mode tickled Yuri’s heartstrings. “Soo wants to meet you.”
Tripling-no, quadrupling-her attractiveness, Tiffany agreed without a hitch. As if making an acquaintance with a mouthy, unpredictable stranger sniffing out for flaws didn’t shake her. Damn, those social skills.
Declaring love so soon exacted doom.
So, Yuri switched the subject to humor. Whipping out a quick, “Soo’s independent enough to get her own studio, you know? Maybe I should fulfill my lesbian U-Haul tendencies and move in with you.”
By the sudden stiffness of Tiffany’s fingers-body, as a whole, actually-she knew her joke was a bust. “Hey-hey, I’m kidding.”
“It’s…it’s not that I don’t want to help you…”
“Fany, no.” She gently tucked Tiffany’s cheek into her palm. Feeding into the magnetism, the beauty of her vulnerable eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t take advantage, right? I meant that. You’re all I want. Money be damned.”
“Don’t let my baggage kill the moment.”
“I mean it. I won’t use and burn you like your exes or your dad.” She’d done that enough with Taek. “I um, care about you too much to even consider it.”
Without a side glance, Tiffany tossed her phone to the end of the bed. Shimmying closer on her elbows, hovering over Yuri’s lips. Hair tangled and spilling around them. “You can use me for sex.”
“Nope. Not even that.”
Then, Yuri saw it.
Right there, in the tremble of Tiffany’s lip, the intense softness in her eyes.
She saw what she herself felt. From her heart, drumming at top speed. “Fany…”
It took her a few seconds to register her name. “Mm?”
“I…I don’t have much stuff. Or experience. Or smarts in fine eating. For years, I’ve learned how to stretch a little into a lot. But, um, how I’m feeling. For once, I feel wealthy.”
“Yul, you came out to your ex.” Tiffany bit her lip, eyes projecting something scarily more intense than before. “He has no room to intimidate you anymore.”
“He won’t.”
“And…” Their noses brushed. “Be mine. Officially.”
Mother of all fucks, a knife couldn’t have punctured Yuri’s chest so heinously. Mine. Oh god, Tiffany Hwang’s. “I’m afraid I’ll say yes, and I’ll wake up.”
“Then, you’d better hurry.”
“Yes, I’ll be yours.”
This was worth all of her crappy, short-term worries. In this real life-where she counted her coins, nodded off through dated Craftie’s videos-she merely received a deep, possessive kiss that curled every nerve ending into a bow. Nobody (and she meant nobody) had ever imprinted this sort of passion onto her flesh.
Yuri pushed her girlfriend’s hair from her face, smiled, and, swore never to wake up from Tiffany.
[A/N: Question time!]
Welcome, those of you who click this spoiler button thing.
So, yeah. In addition to the TaengSic ongoing (crossing my fingers), I gotta be a downer for a second. We know that our years of Soshi fic are kind of numbered. And...idk. I've been feeling nostalgic. If y'all have any ideas for a one-shot based off any of my previous fics, I'm open to hearing your ideas. Even if it's just a character you haven't
I'm so happy to contribute to the SONE/Golden Star fandom for so long. Love y'all~
♥♥♥, ♥♥♥, ♥♥♥,
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