Work Text:
“You’re going to fall asleep in your kimchi soup.”
Jinsol said this as she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm.
Yoona lifted her eyes from the bowl without rushing. It was nearly eleven at night, and the small restaurant in Seongsu was almost empty. The yellowish neon light cast a glow on the leftover broth still wet on her lips. She was still in her uniform, her bulletproof vest tossed onto the chair beside her. A few strands of hair had slipped free from her low ponytail.
“I’m not falling asleep,” she said. “I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
Yoona shrugged. Her eyes lingered for a second on Jinsol’s hands, those long fingers, the prominent knuckles, the skin noticeably brighter than her own. The doctor was wearing a simple black t-shirt that fit snugly across her broad shoulders. Broad shoulders. Yoona had noticed that from the very first day, one year ago, when Jinsol came to the station to file a report. It wasn’t anything serious, just a ridiculous minor case about a stolen phone that was found shortly after.
“About why you’re staring at that bowl like it insulted you?” Jinsol added with a smile.
“Because it’s empty.”
“Want another one?”
“No.”
Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t the awkward kind from their early days. This silence didn’t need to be filled with words.
Yoona liked that. She had never been good at small talk. Jinsol talked a lot, but she always left comfortable gaps for Yoona, and when she did speak, she knew how to keep the conversation from hitting a dead end.
Yoona pushed her bowl toward the center of the table. “Why did you call me out?”
Jinsol blinked. “To eat, obviously.”
“It’s eleven at night.”
“So? I finished work late. So did you.”
“Don’t you have any friends?”
The question sounded harsh, but there was no malice behind it. Jinsol laughed loudly, throwing her head back to reveal the sharp line of her jaw, and Yoona had to turn her face toward the window.
“I do,” Jinsol answered once her laughter died down. “But they’re all in relationships or sleeping. You’re always up.”
“Because I have to work.”
“Exactly. That’s why we’re a good match.”
Yoona fought back the twitch at the corner of her mouth. This wasn’t the first time Jinsol had said something like that in such a casual air that made Yoona wonder if she was joking or laying the groundwork for something more serious. Yoona had met enough people to know most hid behind humor. But Jinsol wasn’t like most people. She said what she thought, even when it was clumsy or suddenly so awkward it was almost ridiculous.
That was how they had reached this point. Meeting every two or three days for late meals, texting each other at two in the morning because neither could sleep. No official dating. No label for whatever this was. This gray area was slowly becoming a dangerous habit.
“Haewon asked me if we’re dating,” Jinsol said suddenly as she dipped her chopsticks into the remaining kimchi.
“What did you tell her?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
Yoona’s fingers tightened around the soda can she was holding even though she hadn’t taken a sip. Condensation trickled down the cold metal onto her palm. She watched the tiny bubbles rising through the narrow opening, popping silently on the surface.
“Didn’t know,” she repeated slowly.
“Well, that’s the truth, isn’t it? We’ve never talked about it. We just hang out, eat, fight over who pays the bill then go home. Are you okay with that?”
Yoona looked at Jinsol, waiting for any sign that might give her a clue. But that steady, uncalculating gaze revealed nothing.
“It’s fine,” she finally said. “For now.”
Jinsol’s smile widened. She cleared her throat, picked up the last piece of kimchi, then bounced to her feet. “I’ll walk you home.”
“I came by subway,” Yoona replied as she grabbed her bulletproof vest.
“So? I can walk you to the station. Or we can share a taxi. Or I could follow you home and crash on your sofa.”
“You have your own apartment.”
“It feels too empty.”
Yoona sighed but didn’t refuse.
They walked along the bumpy sidewalk. The wind hit them straight in the face, carrying the smell of toasted bread and diesel. Jinsol shoved her hands into her coat pockets, bouncing with each step in a way that didn’t suit a doctor at all.
Yoona walked half a step behind her, her eyes fixed on the back of Jinsol’s head, her fluffy, neatly cut hair bouncing with each step, revealing the bare nape of her neck that Yoona had wanted to touch at least three times tonight but hadn’t.
“Why did you become a cop?”
The question dropped without warning, just like all of Jinsol’s questions.
Yoona raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking that now?”
“Because I’m curious.”
Their footsteps crunched on the gravel. A motorcycle sped by too fast, blaring its horn before disappearing at the end of the street. Yoona waited for the noise to fade.
“My mother was a social worker. She worked with kids who were victims of violence. Sometimes I went with her to meetings. It affected me deeply.”
Jinsol turned to look at her. “Do you regret it?”
“No. What about you? Why did you choose medicine?”
Jinsol sidestepped a puddle on the road. “This might sound stupid, but I don’t really know. I just picked it. I guess I wanted to help people, plus I was good at science. But sometimes I wonder if I would’ve preferred music.”
“Do you play any instruments?”
“Nope.”
Yoona let out a laugh. “You want to do music without knowing how to play any instrument?”
“I figured I’d just start and learn later.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, that’s called optimism.”
They stopped in front of the subway entrance. Jinsol shifted from foot to foot, her eyes locked on Yoona with that intense, slightly awkward stare she never tried to hide. The wind blew her hair back and Yoona told herself she had never seen her look so vulnerable.
“Alright,” Yoona said, nodding toward the stairs. “Get home safely.”
“You’re not inviting me over?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We have work tomorrow.”
Jinsol’s face fell in an exaggerated pout, but her eyes were full of laughter. She took one step back. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow,” Yoona repeated, not sure if she meant it seriously.
But when Jinsol ran down the stairs and nearly tripped on the last step, Yoona felt something lighten in her chest. She turned and waited for her subway, hands in the pockets of her uniform, feeling the biting cold against her knuckles.
It rained the next day. A steady drizzle clung to hair and turned the sidewalks into slippery ice. Yoona had just stepped out of the police station when her phone buzzed.
Bae Jinsol: “open your mouth~~”
She glanced at the message and replied.
Seol Yoona: “What?”
Bae Jinsol: “your umbrella. open it. it’s raining.”
Yoona looked up at the gray sky. She wasn’t carrying an umbrella. In fact, she never did, letting herself get soaked always felt liberating, a way to remind herself that she had a body, that she had sensations, that the routine of daily life hadn’t swallowed her.
But Jinsol didn’t see it that way. Her phone buzzed again.
Bae Jinsol: “you don’t have an umbrella do you”
Seol Yoona: “No.”
Bae Jinsol: “idiot. stay there I’m coming.”
Yoona wanted to type something like “you’re at the hospital” or “stop acting like my babysitter,” but in the end, she put her phone away, sat down on the police station steps and waited.
About ten minutes later, a figure appeared at the end of the street. Jinsol was running, or at least she was trying to. Her shoes slipped on the wet asphalt, she clutched a folded umbrella against her chest, and her leather jacket was already soaked at the shoulders.
“Are you… are you serious?” She gasped for breath.
Yoona looked at her without moving. Jinsol’s hair was plastered to her forehead. A drop of water hung at the tip of her nose. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, or from exhaustion, or both.
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“You were going to walk home.”
“I was going to take the subway.”
“At this hour? In the rain? The trains are packed, everyone’s soaked, and the smell of sweat mixed with stale rainwater is disgusting. You’d still have to walk to the station anyway.”
“Then why didn’t you just open the umbrella?” Yoona pointed at the still-folded umbrella.
“I forgot…”
“Are you stupid…?”
“It wasn’t raining that hard.”
“Exactly. That’s why I was planning to walk to the station without one.”
As soon as she said that, the rain suddenly grew heavier, accompanied by a few rumbles in the sky.
“But you still waited for me, didn’t you?”
Jinsol narrowed her eyes with a cheerful smile. She shook her head, sending water flying like a dog just out of a pond, then opened the umbrella. The black fabric spread above them with a dull snap, and rain stopped falling on Yoona, at least not most of it.
“Let’s go,” Jinsol said, holding out her hand. “I’ll take you to eat tteokbokki.”
Yoona stared at the hand extended toward her. The hand of a healer, someone who sewed up damaged bodies without a tremor. She wanted to say something sharp to hide the warmth rising inside her. But no words came out. Instead, she placed her palm in Jinsol’s, felt the fingers gently close around it, and let herself be pulled forward.
The city receded behind them under an umbrella too small for two people, their shoulders brushing with each step. Jinsol held the handle with her right hand while her left stayed intertwined with Yoona’s.
The tteokbokki plate was bright red and steaming, thick with the scent of chili and fried garlic. Yoona took the first bite, savoring the burst of heat in her mouth. Jinsol stubbornly did the same even though she had ordered a non-spicy portion for herself. The doctor’s face turned brick red within seconds, her eyes welled up. She downed half a glass of water, nearly choked, then finally put her chopsticks down with forced dignity.
“Are you crying?” Yoona snorted.
“No.”
“Your eyes are all red.”
“It’s just the red reflection from your tteokbokki.”
Yoona had to cover her mouth to keep from dropping her rice cake from laughing. Even so, a cackle escaped. She slapped Jinsol hard on the shoulder.
“How can you say such stupid shit?”
“Stupid but it always makes you laugh,” Jinsol blinked rapidly with that smug little smile she often wore.
Their mutual friends said Jinsol’s jokes weren’t even that funny, yet Yoona always cracked up at the smallest things.
“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” Yoona asked once her laughter stopped.
“I know. It’s because I’m in love.”
The answer was so unexpected that Yoona stopped chewing. Her chopsticks hovered between the plate and her mouth, dripping sauce onto the table. The server passed behind them, indifferent. The TV in the corner played a variety show at low volume. Other customers remained lost in their own conversations. The world kept turning, but Yoona felt like someone had hit pause.
“What did you say?” She stammered. For God’s sake, she hadn’t misheard, had she? Jinsol just said love, but who was she in love with?
Jinsol shrugged, unembarrassed. “I’m in love,” she continued as if reading Yoona’s mind. “With you. For a while now. I wanted to say it yesterday, but I lost my nerve. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Yoona put her chopsticks down. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, folded it into quarters, unfolded it, then folded it again. She needed time for her brain to catch up with her racing heart.
“You just say something like that so casually,” she finally managed.
“Then how should I say it?”
“I don’t know. More romantically? More subtly?”
“Isn’t saying I love you the most romantic thing already? If you want subtle…” Jinsol scratched her head. “I want to be with you. I want to sleep next to you and fight over whose turn it is to take out the trash. Is that better?”
“Why me?” Yoona was still confused.
“Hmm... I don’t know,” Jinsol smiled after a moment of thought. “Maybe because you’re stubborn? Because you have really dark circles and drink too much coffee? Because you always laugh at my weird jokes?”
“Those things are enough to make you like me?”
“That’s why I said I don’t really know the reason. By the time I realized, it was already like this. Maybe I like you so much that even normal things feel precious?”
Jinsol’s greatest strength and weakness was being cheesy. Most of the time it was over-the-top on purpose to tease, but when she was sincere, she said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, enough to make anyone’s heart flutter.
“You’re so dumb,” Yoona whispered, suddenly realizing her eyes were stinging and it wasn’t from the spice.
“I know.”
“Do you want to date a cop who comes home at ungodly hours, might snore, cooks terribly, and has a tendency to lock up her emotions like a safe?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
Jinsol walked around the table, and stopped beside Yoona. She leaned down to eye level, took both of Yoona’s hands, and easily slipped her fingers between hers, locking them together.
“Because you’re not a safe,” she said softly. “You’re just pretending to be. And I have time. I have all the time in the world to unlock you.”
The noise of the restaurant reached her ears muffled and distant. Yoona looked down at their intertwined hands. She had never thought anyone would want to touch her hands, with knuckles marked by training sessions and late nights typing reports. But now Jinsol was holding them with such care, and suddenly Yoona thought they looked beautiful.
“Okay,” she finally said.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll date you.”
Jinsol’s smile was almost too big for her face, lighting up everything around her. She suddenly leaned in and kissed Yoona’s cheek, not caring that other people were still in the restaurant.
“Are you serious?” Jinsol asked as she straightened up.
“I’m always serious.”
Jinsol returned to her seat happily, but she kept holding Yoona’s hand on the table the whole time even when the server came to clear the dishes, she refused to let go.
Still late-night meals, two a.m. texts, and walks in the rain or cold. Confirming the relationship didn’t turn them into something completely new. It was just a little different in that they had more skinship than before, or did they? There had already been plenty of skinship, but now it felt intentional, or maybe those previous touches that seemed accidental had actually been deliberate all along?
Yoona wasn’t new to love. She had past relationships—flings, short romances, and one serious one that fell apart after two years. But this thing with Jinsol felt fresh and smoother than the old ones, and she hoped she wasn’t mistaken.
Work ran late for both of them that Saturday night. Yoona had to finish a report on a petty theft at a convenience store, while Jinsol had a surgery to perform. After a quick meal at a roadside noodle place, they went to Jinsol’s nearby apartment. It was a rather small apartment for a doctor, and with her salary Jinsol could easily afford a larger one. Yoona had thought so at first, but she soon understood that Jinsol didn’t like large spaces. In return, the place felt very cozy. Blankets scattered across the sofa, towering unbalanced stacks of medical books, houseplants miraculously surviving despite neglect, and a chubby tabby cat named Beom sleeping soundly on the windowsill—the stray Jinsol had adopted when she found him sick on the street.
Yoona sat cross-legged on the sofa, gently swirling a glass of soju without drinking. Jinsol had opened a bottle for the occasion, but she herself didn’t touch it because she hated alcohol. Yoona had never seen her drunk, and part of her was curious.
“What are you thinking about?”
Jinsol asked suddenly. She was lying sprawled across the sofa, legs propped on a pile of pillows, her head near Yoona’s knee.
“Something important.” A slight smile appeared on Yoona’s lips, and she didn’t try to hide it.
Jinsol propped herself up a little, looking up at Yoona with big eyes.
“Tell me.”
Yoona took a sip of soju. The warmth of the glass, the spicy burn of the liquid, the quiet of the apartment formed a cocoon she didn’t want to break. But Jinsol waited patiently.
“I’m scared,” she finally admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of messing this up.”
Jinsol didn’t flinch. She kept listening attentively.
“I’m complicated,” Yoona sighed, staring at her glass. “I know that. I lock myself away, just like you said. I tend to run away when things get too serious. My ex said I was a wall no one could get through. It wore her down. I’m terrified it’ll wear you down too.”
She looked up and was surprised to find Jinsol smiling.
“You’re not a wall,” Jinsol said softly. “You’re a door. With a complicated lock, but I have the key.”
“You don’t have a key.”
“I do. I’m finding them day by day.”
She sat up properly next to Yoona, took the soju glass and set it on the table before taking Yoona’s hands in hers.
“That night you said yes to me,” she reminded her. “That wasn’t just words, right? You meant it.”
“I meant it.”
“Then why are you panicking?”
“Because I love you too,” Yoona said. “And that scares the hell out of me.”
Jinsol’s bright laughter burst out in surprise. She ran a hand through her hair, and her expression grew more serious. She moved closer enough for Yoona to feel her warmth, for their thighs to touch on the too‑narrow sofa.
“Say it again,” Jinsol whispered.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll get that smug look on your face.”
“I already have it,” Jinsol pouted, and Yoona couldn’t help noticing those full lips.
She thought about all the things they hadn’t done yet—no real kiss on the mouth, no full night together, no direct “I love you.” Tomorrow, actually today, since it was already past midnight, was Sunday, so they had more time. That thought with the soju made Yoona feel strangely bold. She grabbed the back of Jinsol’s neck and pressed her lips to hers.
Jinsol’s lips were soft, slightly dry, and tasted like green tea and exhaustion. Yoona closed her eyes and gave in to the feeling, to the invisible shift that turned two mouths into one.
“You didn’t warn me,” Jinsol panted after the kiss, her trembling hands already around Yoona’s waist.
“I never warn you,” Yoona smirked and blew gently against the other woman’s still-quivering lips.
“Cheater.”
She collapsed onto Yoona. The sofa creaked under the weight of them. Beom lifted his head, blinked, then went back to sleep. Jinsol straddled Yoona’s thighs, her hands running along the cop’s arms before resting on her shoulders.
“Can we?”
“Didn’t I just make it clear?” Yoona laughed, grabbing Jinsol’s collar and pulling her down for another kiss.
The doctor’s hands slipped under Yoona’s shirt, gliding over her waist and ribs before slowly moving up to her breasts.
“Not here,” Yoona whispered against her lips. “Beom…”
Jinsol laughed and let Yoona pull her into the bedroom.
They didn’t bother turning on the light. As soon as they stepped inside, Yoona pushed Jinsol against the wall and started unbuttoning her jeans. Jinsol stood with her arms hanging loose, holding her breath, her eyes wide in the murky darkness. Her jeans fell to the floor. Yoona did the same with her own pants, then her shirt, leaving only her black bra.
Jinsol watched as Yoona lowered herself. Her legs nearly gave out. She had to brace herself against the wall to keep from falling.
“Yoona…”
“Shhhh.”
Yoona slipped her fingers under the waistband of Jinsol’s underwear and slowly pulled them down. Jinsol cooperated until she stood naked. The cop paused for a moment to admire what was in front of her, then she leaned in.
Her lips first brushed the inside of Jinsol’s thigh. Light, almost lazy kisses moved upward toward her groin. The moans that escaped Jinsol were as desperate as the fingers that gripped Yoona’s hair but didn’t dare pull hard. When Yoona’s tongue finally reached her sensitive spot, it triggered an explosion. A scream was stifled behind clenched teeth. One of Jinsol’s hands pressed hard against the wall to stay upright.
With almost cruel gentleness, Yoona alternated between quick licks and slow presses of her lips. Jinsol’s legs shook, her hips bucked instinctively, and her fingers were now yanking at Yoona’s hair.
“I… I can’t take it…” she gasped.
Yoona increased the pace. Her hand supporte Jinsol’s thigh to help her stay steady through the pleasure. Her lips were glossy when she looked up to meet Jinsol’s eyes.
“Holy shit,” Jinsol exhaled.
“Did you just swear?”
“I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I’m floating somewhere.”
Yoona guided Jinsol lie down on the bed and curled into her. Jinsol hugged her with new fervor, hands roaming over her back before finally settling on her butt, squeezing gently with adoration.
“You have a nice ass.”
“Focus.”
“I am focused. My whole mind is on you.”
Jinsol flipped them so Yoona was on her back. She used her knee to spread Yoona’s legs and began returning the favor. Before moving lower, she lingered at Yoona’s chest, pushing the bra straps aside, unhooking it with one skilled hand. Her lips found a nipple and sucked gently, rolling it between her lips. Yoona let out a moan she didn’t even recognize as her own.
“So good,” Jinsol murmured against her skin.
“Shut up.”
“No. Your milk tastes good.”
“I’m not nursing a baby. I don’t have milk.”
“I’ll drink anyway.”
She moved to the other side and took her time enjoying it meanwhile her fingers traveled down Yoona’s stomach and slipped into her panties. The doctor smiled when she felt the wetness that enveloped her hand in that small space, making it easier for her fingers to explore.
“It’s beautiful too,” Jinsol praised with a giggle.
“Can you just shut your mouth?”
“No. I want to tell you. It’s so pretty. Everything about you is beautiful.”
Her fingers had no trouble pushing deeper, making circular thrusts. Her thumb found the clit and stroked it.
The soaked underwear had long since slipped down to Yoona’s ankles. Jinsol’s lips returned to bite gently at one nipple, and Yoona experienced a similar wave of pleasure. She didn’t show it easily, but when Jinsol slowed down and brought her mouth close to Yoona’s neck to whisper nonsense did the cop finally let out a rough, stifled scream, accompanied by a series of full‑body tremors.
Yoona’s breathing slowly steadied, as did Jinsol’s hot breaths against her neck. Beom meowed somewhere in the apartment, probably hungry again, but Jinsol had already prepared food for him.
“You okay?” Jinsol broke the silence.
“I told you not to ask.”
“I’m asking anyway,” she stared at Yoona, and the look pierced right through her, forcing an admission.
“I’m good,” as if reluctant but meaning it.
“Good.”
Jinsol happily went to the bathroom and came back with a towel to clean them both. She tossed the towel aside and snuggled back into Yoona’s arms, head in the hollow of her shoulder, one arm around her waist.
“Want to shower?” Jinsol asked.
“Later.” Though Yoona wasn’t sure, what had just happened had taken more energy than she thought.
“Want something to drink?”
“No.”
“Want me to tell you a joke?”
“Stop it,” Yoona flicked her on the head.
Jinsol giggled, snuggling deeper.
The exhaustion from work, the long day, and the intense emotions finally caught up with Yoona. She felt her eyelids grow heavy and Jinsol’s breathing against her chest became steady.
Just before drifting off, she found Jinsol’s t‑shirt lying crumpled at the foot of the bed and pulled it over her head. It was too big and it smelled wonderful. She buried her nose in the collar, took a deep breath, and tightened her arms around Jinsol.
Yoona opened her eyes first, feeling a few aches when she moved.
The room still held the aftertaste of the night before. Jinsol was still sound asleep, the blanket kicked off because she moved a lot in her sleep. Yoona paused for a moment to admire the curve of her ribs, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, the scar along her spine, the dip of her hips. She wanted to wake her, but she also wanted to let her sleep.
She quietly got out of bed.
The floor was cold under her bare feet as she walked to the kitchen. She filled the kettle and looked for coffee. Opening the cabinet, she took out the pair of mugs they had bought together. A low rumble filling the kitchen space.
She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.
Arms wrapped around her waist before she could turn. A bare chest pressed against her back. Jinsol’s chin rested on her shoulder, and her hands gripped Yoona’s hips, fingers spread wide just beneath the hem of the t-shirt. Jinsol was plastered against her. No shirt, no underwear, not even socks.
“It’s still early,” Jinsol grumbled in a hoarse morning voice that needed water.
Her breasts squished against Yoona’s shoulder blades, her lower belly rubbed against the small of Yoona’s back, her bare thighs pressed against the backs of Yoona’s thighs, and something even hotter pressed against Yoona’s ass through the shirt. Yoona looked down at Jinsol’s hands, at their fingers interlaced on her bare skin just below the hem.
“You’re naked,” she said.
“Yep.”
“It’s cold.”
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
Yoona turned slightly in her arms. Jinsol was still squinty‑eyed with sleep, her hair a mess, her smile dopey. She didn’t seem at all embarrassed to stand bare as a worm in the kitchen, pressing her body against Yoona with a casualness that was almost spoiled.
“Put something on,” Yoona frowned.
“Put what on?”
“Pants. Underwear. Anything.”
Jinsol tilted her head as if thinking, then tightened her hold. “Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because my shirt is on you. And I’m cold. You can warm me up.”
“This is your house. You can find new clothes.”
“I don’t know.”
Jinsol ignored her. Her hands slid lower and grabbed the hem of the t-shirt, pulling it up Yoona’s thighs to reveal what it hid. There was nothing underneath, just Yoona’s honey-toned skin, her flat stomach, and the dark patch of hair between her legs. The doctor’s fingers touched her belly before sliding down to her most private area, stroking the already wet folds.
“You really aren’t wearing anything underneath,” Jinsol noted, sounding much more awake now.
“I didn’t have time to find clothes.”
“You just grabbed my shirt. So that’s all you need?”
Jinsol turned Yoona around and pressed her against the kitchen counter. Yoona found herself exposed under the lifted shirt, back against the counter, legs spread to make room for Jinsol’s hips.
“Stop staring,” she pushed Jinsol’s face away shyly, but it had no effect.
“No. I’m not done looking at you yet.”
Jinsol bent down to kiss her neck, her collarbone, then moved lower to take a nipple into her mouth.
“Breakfast looks delicious,” she sighed, sucking hard with a lewd sound.
“You’re disgusting.”
“But you love me like this.”
“I love you despite that.”
“Same thing.”
Jinsol sucked a little harder, her fingers had already found the entrance, and gently pushed inside. Yoona had been wet for a while, maybe since she woke up in Jinsol’s t‑shirt, or maybe since she felt the younger woman’s naked body against her own.
“Soaked,” Jinsol mumbled, the words muffled because she was kissing Yoona now.
The kettle whistled on the stove. Beom came over and rubbed against their ankles, then wandered off when no one paid him attention.
Yoona’s gaze drifted over Jinsol’s shoulder to her round ass. She refused to let Jinsol have all the fun and grabbed it firmly.
Jinsol only let out a soft hiss, not complaining. She even arched her back proudly so Yoona could knead her ass.
“Your ass is so big,” Yoona said breathlessly.
Jinsol let out a proud laugh. “Thanks. I do work out.”
“What kind of workout?”
“Working my ass off at the hospital counts.”
The harder Yoona squeezed, the deeper and harder Jinsol’s fingers thrust inside her.
“Fuck, Bae Jinsol.” Yoona hissed, and both Jinsol’s fingers and ass were crushed by Yoona right after.
They stood like that for a moment, tightly connected. The kettle had long since turned off.
When Yoona regained some clarity, she felt something dripping down the inside of her thigh.
Jinsol followed her gaze. Her smile grew wider with clear mischief. “Want me to clean it up for you?”
“What?”
“That. The thing dripping. I can clean it. If you want.”
“Are you serious?” Yoona blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.
“I could get you a towel,” Jinsol suggested. “Or you could wash it off. Or…” she paused, her eyes moving down to Yoona’s thighs before slowly rising again. “... I could lick it clean. So it wouldn’t go to waste.”
Yoona’s cheeks burned. She grabbed the first thing within reach, a small spoon on the counter, and lightly whacked Jinsol’s shoulder.
“You’re fucking sick!”
“I was joking!” Jinsol raised her hands, her smile showing she was anything but innocent. “Just kidding!”
“You weren’t kidding at all.”
“Okay, fine! Maybe… fifty percent.”
“Get out of my sight.”
“I just satisfied you. It’s a little late to say that now.”
Yoona glared at her and pushed at Jinsol’s chest.
“I’m taking a shower,” she said, walking straight to the bathroom without looking back.
“I’ll come with!” Jinsol offered, padding after her.
“No.”
“Why?” Jinsol whined.
“Because if you come in, we’ll be in there all morning.”
“So what? It’s Sunday.”
“So I’m hungry. We haven’t eaten anything, and coffee’s getting cold.”
“We can just order delivery.”
“No.”
Yoona slammed the bathroom door. She heard an exaggerated groan, then silence.
When she stepped out with a towel wrapped around her, the sight in the living room stopped her in her tracks.
Jinsol was lying on the sofa. The light highlighted the curves of her shoulders, her waist, her narrow middle, and the swell of her hips. Beom was curled up on her belly, and she was stroking him.
Yoona’s towel slipped slightly on her chest. She caught it out of habit but didn’t pull it up. Her eyes stayed fixed on the scene before her.
Catching Yoona staring, Jinsol showed no embarrassment, just beamed. “You’re peeping at me.”
“I’m looking at the cat.”
“Beom is on me. Looking at Beom means looking at me.”
“Stop with the nonsense logic.”
Jinsol laughed softly so as not to disturb Beom, who had his eyes closed.
Yoona came over to remind her. “Couldn’t you sit properly instead of lying there like a starfish?”
“This is more comfortable.”
“You’re naked.”
“I know. You keep reminding me.”
“Because it’s weird.”
“You like it th—”
Yoona clicked her tongue at Jinsol’s cheeky mouth. Instead of arguing, she slipped her hand into Jinsol’s hair and stroked it the same way Jinsol had let her fingers sink into Beom’s fur earlier. Jinsol fell silent, closing her eyes to enjoy it.
Beom, feeling his attention being stolen, stood up, and jumped off the sofa to find another spot. Jinsol didn’t even glance at him. She grabbed Yoona’s hand and pressed it to her cheek.
“You’re so gentle,” Jinsol whispered and grabbed the back of Yoona’s neck, pulling her closer.
Yoona knew exactly what Jinsol was up to and blocked her mouth with a finger.
“Go shower.”
Jinsol groaned and buried her face in Yoona’s neck. “Just five more minutes.”
“No. Go shower. I know you’re hungry too.”
Jinsol’s stomach growled right on cue. She laughed sheepishly. “Okay, I’m going. But kiss me first.”
Yoona sighed, cupped her face, and kissed her. “There. Now go shower.”
Jinsol reluctantly stood up, stretching her arms high above her head. Her breasts lifted, ribs showed, hips tilted. Yoona watched without blinking.
“You’re obsessed with my body, huh?” Jinsol said smugly.
“I’m just checking if you have goosebumps. You’ve been naked for an hour.”
“I’m not cold.”
“You’ve got goosebumps all over.”
“That’s your fault. You give me goosebumps.”
“That’s a disease. Go see a doctor.”
“I’m a doctor. I prescribe myself some hugs.”
“Go shower.”
Jinsol laughed again and turned back after a few steps. “You should put some clothes on too. Tongtongie is awake. I see them waving at me.”
Yoona narrowed her eyes, having no idea what she was talking about.
“Your tits,” Jinsol said, jerking her chin toward Yoona’s chest. “Tongtongie. They’re poking out.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious. Look, they’re so happy to see me. Hi, Tongtongie,” Jinsol waved at Yoona’s chest with a delighted smile.
Yoona threw Jinsol a sharp look. “Did you just name my breasts?”
“Yep. Want me to warm them up? They look pitiful, probably very cold.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“What? I’m just being nice to them. All love.”
“Go shower right now or I swear I’ll make your Dongdongie disappear.” She immediately thought up another name to retaliate and found it ridiculous that she was playing along.
Jinsol burst out laughing, playfully covering her chest with both hands, then ran toward the bathroom.
“They’re very happy to meet you! We should throw a meeting party for Tongtongie and Dongdongie someday!”
“BAE JINSOL!”
The bathroom door slammed shut, but Jinsol’s laughter still leaked through, mixing with the sound of running water. Yoona sat frozen by the sofa for a moment, clutching a pillow with every intention of strangling Jinsol later.