Archive of Our Own

There’s something about the beach.

It could be the salt in the air, the constant crash of the surf, the cries of the gulls overhead, the excited chatter and laughter of the people scattered about, the rich diversity of marine wildlife...

Or, Zoey muses, it could simply be her ability to ogle hot people from the safety of her tower and the anonymity behind her mirrored sunglasses.

For safety reasons.

As a lifeguard, safety is her number one priority at all times, of course. 

Of course.

Safety.

Particularly the safety of two girls (young women, really, probably around her own age) at Zoey’s 11 o’clock, who seem to be avoiding the sun as though their lives depend on it (which, honestly, why even come to the beach just to hide under an umbrella the whole time?), both with hair so long that Zoey winces at the thought of trying to detangle it after a windy day at the beach.

“Yikes,” she mumbles to herself. She shakes her head and returns her attention to the other beachgoers, most of whom are staying close to shore and not attempting anything cool (read: stupid) in front of her.

Most.

One guy, however, seems to be swimming out as far as he can, passing by the buoys without so much as a pause, his lilac hair almost blending into the shimmering water.

Zoey sighs, “C’mon, man, not today, don’t swim into the boat lanes…”

Naturally, he does exactly this.

Zoey groans, raising her whistle to her lips and blasting it shrilly. The sound rips out across the beach, startling everyone in earshot- thankfully, this includes Dumb Boy, who stops swimming to stare back at her.

“Hey, dude! Get back in the swim area! You’re gonna get hit by a boat!” Zoey shouts, rising to her feet with her hands cupped around her mouth.

Her voice carries well across the beach, and this, combined with his friends motioning him back toward them, prompts Dumb Boy to turn around.

“Good choice!” Zoey shouts, settling back into her chair.

One of the dads nearby grins at her, offering a thumbs up. “Kids these days!” he calls with a laugh.

Zoey laughs with him, returning to her vigil of this section of Jeju Island’s beautiful coastline.

Being a lifeguard was not the plan. It still isn’t, really.

Or at least, it isn’t the long-term plan.

But uni isn’t free, and neither is food or housing, so since she has to be here anyways for school at JNU, she figured that at least she’d get to enjoy the beaches.

Plus, with the advanced training she had from her time as a lifeguard while she (ironically) floundered at UCSD, she’d been eagerly accepted into the fold of Jeju Island’s less experienced team.

So it’s not so bad, Dumb Boy and his ilk aside.

And she does get tons of time to explore the island and its various tide pools, which is great for her morale and her research on the effects of global warming on the species in said tide pools. And sometimes, she gets to help some baby sea turtles get to the water, which feels like actual magic.

So, overall, not a bad gig.

Especially since the two (very pretty, oh my god) girls she noticed seem to have taken notice of her, eyeing her up from under their umbrella, the taller of the two not particularly seeming to care when Zoey sees.

‘Interesting.’

Zoey feigns a yawn, standing and doing a showy stretch that puts her taut arms and stomach on full display.

The less tall girl, with the purple hair and the dark long-sleeved rashguard, seems to be more shy than her friend (girlfriend?), flushing before whipping her head around like an owl to avert her gaze.

Her tall friend (pink hair, Zoey notes), seems to find this funny, shoving her sideways into the sand before turning back to Zoey and lowering her sunglasses to get a better look.

Zoey can’t help but feel a little proud and grins over at her, prompting rolled eyes and a smirk as Tall Girl puts her shades back on and turns back to her companion, who appears to be halfheartedly griping about getting all sandy.

Her job is fun, sometimes.

Except for when some parent forgets where they are and gets lost in their phone while their kids wade out further, and further, and-

Zoey’s grabbed her life can, jumped out of her tower and is already sprinting across the sand by the time she hears one of the three kids shriek with alarm as their sibling goes under (the drop-off from the sand bar here is a bitch, and it really will just sneak up on you). Her feet pound against the hot sand in time with her rapid heartbeat, whistle once again ripping through the air in her wake. She hits the water at a run, both thankful and annoyed that the water is shallow enough for her to keep running instead of swimming.

By the time she gets to the kids, two of them are clasping hands, trying to make a chain to reach the one who went out too far and is barely keeping her head above water, tears and snot mixing with seawater as she sobs, terrified, arms and legs flailing wildly in desperation. But she’s bobbed out of their reach, a good twenty feet past the drop off.

“Guys, go to the beach! I’ve got her, go to the beach!” Zoey yells, not unkindly, knowing they’re probably too shocked to do it but needing to say it anyways.

Zoey dives, the water going from hip-deep to deep-deep in the blink of an eye. She propels herself forward with powerful strokes, reaching the girl just as she seems to tire out. “Hey! Hey, I’ve got you, okay? Can you grab the floatie, aga? You’re okay, you went out too far, but you’re okay.”

The girl latches onto the life can like, well, a lifeline, shuddering with sobs as Zoey starts cutting through the water like a shark. 

‘Please, in the name of all that is holy, do not let there be a shark nearby…’

It only takes them a minute or two to get back onto the sandbar, and as soon as Zoey regains her footing, the girl scrambles into her arms and clings to her like a koala, too afraid to be in the water a moment longer. Her siblings surge toward them, teeth chattering as they fret over their (younger, from Zoey’s best guess) sister.

“Okay, ooookay, I’ve got her, guys. Let’s all go up on the beach, okay? She doesn’t wanna swim right now,” Zoey soothes, running a comforting hand over the girl’s back. “Who brought you to the beach, where are they?”

“Our mom brought us,” the eldest, a boy who looks to be 12 at most says, eyes locked on his sister, hand wrapped around the ankle closest to him as if to reassure him that she’s whole and safe. “We were just playing, I didn’t know she was following us out so far, she’s supposed to stay by the beach if she’s not wearing her floaties, she can’t swim good yet, and-” tears are leaking from his eyes as he sniffles. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Is she okay?”

“Hey, yeah, she’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Zoey reassures him, adjusting the girl in her arms. “You guys did the right thing calling for help, and not trying to rescue her.”

“My dad says that’s what we should do if we ever go too far, to try to reach and pull someone back and not swim out, because then everyone drowns,” the other boy (maybe 10) says, eyes wide as he half-jogs to keep up, his hand locked with his little sister’s chubby one.

“Your dad is right,” Zoey agrees. “You both saved me a lot of work, yelling for help and staying put. You did great.”

The boys seem to calm down a bit at this, though they remain stuck to their sister where they can reach her as they trudge back up to the shore.

There’s a crowd of concerned people on the beach, some of whom are holding back a woman who seems halfway hysterical as she tries to run to them.

“Is that your mom?” Zoey asks, bouncing the girl a bit in her arms to get her attention. 

She pulls her little face away from Zoey’s neck. As soon as she sees the woman (fortunately now only a few meters away), her face crumples and she extends her arms toward her mother, bawling her little heart out.

“Okay almost there, aaaand, there’s Mom!”

She passes the girl off to her mother, who looks even more hysterical up close, smiling as she sees the tension leave the woman’s body when her daughter’s weight settles in her arms. She apologizes and thanks Zoey profusely, listening intently as Zoey explains that they still need to go to a hospital because secondary drowning is a possibility even when someone seems fine at first. One of the bystanders lets her know that an ambulance had already been called just as the yellow and white vehicle pulls up, sirens blaring.

Zoey greets the paramedic team, giving them a brief rundown of what’d happened, nodding along as the medics also advise the mother to go to the hospital to make sure the girl doesn’t have any water in her lungs. She readily agrees to do so, and some helpful bystanders help to pack up the family’s belongings as quickly as possible.

Zoey loves to see people helping people, and the appreciative words as she makes her way back to her tower don’t hurt her mood either.

She settles back into her seat, allowing herself a long exhale.

“Wild shift,” she mumbles to herself, stretching a bit and shaking some of the water from her hair.

“Seems like it,” a deep voice drawls from somewhere nearby.

Zoey nearly jumps out of her skin and looks around, but no one seems to be talking to her. “Um…”

“Down here, hero.”

Zoey peers over the edge of the tower to see the tall pretty (pretty, so freaking pretty) girl from before smirking up at her. “Oh! Hi!”

“Hi yourself.” The girl’s lips quirk up. “Nice moves out there. That was pretty impressive.”

“Oh, that? Psshht, no, I was just doing my job. No big deal,” Zoey says with a smile.

“I bet it’s a big deal to that girl and her family,” the pink-haired girl disagrees mildly, lifting her glasses to look at Zoey. “I’m sure they’re very grateful you were here.”

Zoey shrugs easily, though she can feel herself flushing a bit. She blames the sun and exertion. “Like I said, just doing my job.” She looks around but doesn’t see the other girl. “Where’s your friend?”

“Rumi? She ran to get some more snacks for us.”

“Oh, good. I was afraid I was gonna have to run back in to save someone else,” Zoey jokes.

“I’ll let her know that mouth to mouth from the cute lifeguard is an option if she starts drowning,” the girl snarks. “She may take you up on it, so stay loose, ah…?”

“Zoey.”

“Mira.”

‘Suits her,’ Zoey thinks. 

“Pretty,” Zoey says.

Or, more accurately, sighs.

Mira’s lips quirk again. “Yeah?”

Zoey huffs a laugh as her ears burn. “Please, you know you’re hot.”

Mira chuckles, crossing her arms over a step and resting her chin on them as she squints up at Zoey. “So, Zoey, what time do heroes like you get off?”

‘Whenever you want.’

“My shift is over in… 107 minutes,” Zoey says, checking her stupidly-expensive-but-totally-worth-it diving watch.

“Wanna get dinner with us? Our treat,” Mira asks.

Zoey thinks of the work on her research project she needs to complete in the next few weeks, the trash in her kitchen she hadn’t managed to take out this morning, the recently-found sea turtle nest she’d volunteered to check in on early tomorrow morning to see if her mentor’s team needs to cordon off more of the beach as the little guys (and girls!) make their way to the ocean…

“C’mon,” Mira coaxes, and her low voice seems to scratch an itch in Zoey’s brain. “You deserve a reward for saving that girl. The least we can do is buy you dinner.”

“I’d love to,” Zoey finally says. “I’m kind of new here, still, so I’m always looking to make new friends!”

“Friends,” Mira drawls knowingly. “Sure.”

Zoey’s laughing as the other girl ('Rumi, her name is Rumi, Mira said’) comes wandering up with an armload of snacks from the vendors out by the street.

(Something somewhere deep in Zoey’s brain tells her that Rumi looks…. Oddly familiar.) 

“Hey, we’re taking the cute lifeguard to dinner,” Mira says bluntly, winking at Zoey. “Rumi, this is Zoey, Zoey, Rumi.”

Rumi blinks and flushes, eyes darting up to Zoey. “Oh, um. Sure. Just, Celine said we should get some rest before tomorrow, so-”

“We’ll be plenty rested, fearless leader,” Mira snarks, though there’s an undeniable fondness to it as she takes some of Rumi’s burden from her arms. “It’s a reward for being such a hero today.”

“I told you, just doing my job,” Zoey insists.

Rumi’s face goes serious. “That was super brave, you saved her life, and probably her brothers’ lives too- I don’t think they were going to wait much longer before they tried to get her themselves.”

Zoey shudders at the thought. “Ugh, that would’ve been awful, I don’t even wanna think about that.”

“Thanks to you, that didn’t happen,” Rumi says simply, a small crooked smile breaking across her face. “That was amazing and brave. Give yourself some credit, Zoey.”

And as hot and snarky and exactly Zoey’s type as Mira is (and boy is she), Rumi is adorable, nervous and earnest in equal measure, and gorgeous to boot. 

Uh-oh.

‘This seems like a problem for Future Zoey to figure out,’ is Current Zoey’s determination, and so she just smiles. “You two are very distracting. I’m supposed to be guarding lives right now.”

Mira rolls her eyes, smiling as she steps back and slips her sunglasses back on. “Like you don’t like it. But fine. We’ll be back in 105 minutes.”

“What’s in 105 minutes?” Rumi asks, still playing a bit of catch up but rolling with it admirably.

“That’s what time I get off,” Zoey offers.

“No, that’s in 272 minutes,” Mira says with a wink, walking backwards toward their umbrella and belongings, narrow hips swaying under the thin fabric of her sarong.

Zoey almost swallows her tongue. Rumi goes redder than ever.

“Mira!”

The rest of her shift is thankfully uneventful, due in part to the fact that the sun is starting to set and tourists are leaving in droves to head to the western shore to watch (and more than a few left after the incident with the little girl, spooked about their possibility of their own kids wading too deep while they're distracted).

Zoey’s grateful that everyone clears out without complaint once she announces that the beach is closing for the day (sometimes people seem to think that if they argue in exactly the right way, the beach will stay open).

All except the two girls waiting at the base of the lifeguard tower, idly scrolling on their phones as Zoey hurries to get her things together. Finally, she manages to shove everything into her bag and drops down between them, slipping into a threadbare button-down so she’s at least wearing a shirt to… wherever they’re going (and missing the grumpy face Mira makes as she does). “Whew! Sorry about that, I usually have my stuff where it’s supposed to be before I clear the beach. I appreciate you guys waiting.”

“Duh,” Mira says, slipping the bag from Zoey’s shoulder, adding it to the umbrella slung across her back and the two bags slung over her shoulders, starting the trek back to the street. 

“Oh, hey, you don’t have to-” Zoey starts, interrupted by a snort from Rumi.

“Don’t bother, it’s a Mira thing. We brought all that stuff with us and I’m literally only allowed to carry this,” she says dryly, holding up just a single thermos- what sounds like a single empty thermos as Zoey hears the ice rattle around. “I asked to carry my own stuff once and I swear she looked like she was going to bite me.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Mira calls over her shoulder. “C’mon,  I need some carbs. Plus Yi-Joon is waiting with the car.”

Zoey groans. “Oh my god, yes please. You wouldn’t believe how much of an appetite you can work up sitting in a chair all day, even on chill days.”

“I wouldn’t call today a chill day,” Rumi chuckles, eyes warm and almost golden in the light of the setting sun.

“Oh, no, today was definitely un-chill. I haven’t had to do any water rescues like that in a while.”

Mira’s loading their stuff into a fancy black SUV by the time they catch up, her long legs giving her an easy advantage over them in terms of speed. She opens the door to the backseat, and Rumi slides into it with a small smile. “How many have you had to do, exactly?”

“Here? Not as many as the other lifeguards warned me about, but still a few. It’s mostly my job to keep people inside the buoys because if you go out past them, the drop off is bad .. Fortunately I haven't had to do CPR on anyone yet, just give them a hand getting back to the shallows,” Zoey shrugs, sliding in behind her. “It was a lot worse in California for people getting in over their heads- literally.”

“You were a lifeguard in California?” Mira asks, curiosity piqued as she settles next to Zoey.

“I was, yeah, first at a pool when I was younger, then when I was at UCSD I was at the beaches, which was a lot more intense. The rip currents are no joke.”

“My parents took us to LA once, they freaked out if we got our toes wet at the beach,” Mira snorts. “I think they watched too many movies.”

“Celine did the same thing when we went to the beach here when I was little,” Rumi offers with a small smile. “I was covered in floaties from my neck down, I think.”

“I could totally see that,” Mira agrees. She reaches over and playfully flicks Rumi’s long braid. “Maybe even one for your hair.”

“Hey!” Rumi laughs, reaching behind Zoey to shove lightly at her. “My hair was shorter then.”

“Was your hair shorter, or was all of you shorter? Because I’ve seen the old pictures, and you’ve never had short hair, aein.”

‘Oh, okay, so they are together. Bummer.’

“I like my hair long,” Rumi defends mildly.

“It’s pretty, I can’t blame you,” Zoey says with a smile. “I’m honestly jealous, you both have gorgeous hair.”

“Thanks, I grew it myself,” Mira drawls, lips quirking up when they snort at her.

“So, where are we going?”

“This kimbap place Rumi’s obsessed with first so she doesn’t give me big sad moo cow eyes-”

“Hey!”

“-then wherever you want, it’s your dinner.”

“There’s a great bbq place not too far from here,” Zoey offers.

“Sold, I love bbq after the beach,” Mira agrees.

“Same. Good choice, Zoey.”

And so what if she preens, just a little, sitting between the prettiest girls she’s literally ever seen in real life with Mira’s leg pressing gently against hers and Rumi’s braid tickling against her bare arm on the other side.

At the kimbap place, the conversation continues easily, although Zoey’s somewhat distracted when Rumi appears to unhinge her jaw like a snake and seemingly swallow the uncut roll whole.

Mira leans down and whispers, “Goddamn, right?”

Zoey swallows thickly. “Yeah, that’s… how?”

“No gag reflex whatsoever, that one. I told her she should list that as a special talent on her CV, but she won’t. Coward.”

“That’s probably for the best, honestly,” Zoey laughs. 

“So what did you study?”

Zoey looks up, wide-eyed, a ssam she’d just inhaled making her cheeks bulge a bit like a rabbit. “Mmph?”

Rumi giggles. “You said you went to uni in the US, right? What did you study?”

“Mm!” Zoey swallows quickly. “Marine biology.”

“Oh that’s cool! I love sharks,” Mira says. “So misunderstood.”

"Yes, yes, you get it. Okay so what’s your favorite?”

“Tiger shark, hands down.”

“Fins down,” Rumi corrects around a mouthful of pork belly.

“No,” Mira grumbles, though she’s visibly fighting a smile. “None of your dad jokes.”

Rumi rolls her eyes. “Like you don’t love them.”

“I don’t,” she insists, eyes sparkling.

“Uh-huh. So, marine biology. Are you going to JNU, then? I know they have a program there.”

“Yeah, wrapping up my BS. I’m doing my research on the tidepools on Jeju and the effects of global warming on the health and diversity of the species in them. It’s really sad, honestly, there are so many species going extinct because of the impact humans are having on their natural habitats, and we have no idea because they’re not as cute as red pandas or rhinos and elephants. But marine animals and fish are so important to the health of their ecosystems and to the planet as a whole, and because it’s more work to do the work for them, there’s way.. less…” She notices that they’ve both stopped eating, Rumi’s chin cupped in her hand as she watches Zoey, Mira smiling slightly from where she’s slumped back into the booth. Zoey flushes and manages an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, that was probably too much. Yes, I’m going to JNU.”

“Hey, no way,” Rumi assures. 

“It was cute how into it you were,” Mira agrees. “Keep telling us about the tide pools.”

Zoey feels herself get a bit redder. “Are you sure? I know when I get talking about it I tend to be… a lot.”

“Nah, not at all. It’s just enough,” Mira says, loading some more meat onto the grill. 

“Exactly the right amount,” Rumi says. “So, tide pools.”

Zoey steadies herself and launches into a lecture about the lack of resources available for research that doesn’t benefit ‘cute’ animals and the general underfunding of marine biology research.

She does not catch the looks of mutual fondness Rumi and Mira shoot each other before locking in on her rant.

“... and don’t even get me started on the impacts on sea turtles!”

“Oh my god that was so gooood," Mira groans as they walk out the door. “The ribeye-”

“Yeah! And the shortribs, I could eat 100 of them,” Rumi agrees. “How did you find this place? It’s not on any of the sites Mira checked out before we got here.”

“Oh, my coworkers are locals, they know all the best spots and have dragged me to all of them,” Zoey laughs. “Our apartments have like, hotplates and microwaves and a sink, eating out is essential.”

Mira snorts, Rumi flushes red and subtly knocks an elbow into her stomach.

“How long have you been here?” Rumi asks.

“Jeju? Since last fall, I started at the beach this spring though.”

“Are you from the US?”

“That seems to be a matter of some debate,” Zoey chuckles. “I was born in Busan, but my mom moved to California when I was three, and I split time between the US and here because the custody kept getting changed and challenged.”

“That’s hard,” Mira says. “My parents are the worst , but they at least weren’t playing transpacific tug of war with me.”

“It wasn’t great,” Zoey admits. “It was hard making friends.”

“You seem like you’d make friends so easily,” Rumi says, sounding a touch envious.

“Ah, well, you know. Too Korean for the US, too American for Korea,” Zoey says, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her lifeguard shorts.

“That sucks,” Mira says bluntly, nudging Zoey gently with her elbow as they walk. 

“It did suck, but I developed a lot of hobbies and stuff. Music was a big thing with both my parents, so I got really into it.” She laughs. “I think the only thing they’ve agreed on since I was a baby is that they hate that I write rap music.”

The other two pause. “You rap?”

“Yeah! Odd, I know, but I got pretty good- even won my high school’s talent show a couple years in a row. I used to hole up in my room playing with tracks I made on the computer for hours, it drove my parents crazy. My mom and her husband were terrified I was gonna run away to LA and try to make it there, they came to visit once a week just to make sure I wasn’t still doing street performances.”

Mira pulls a face. “Ugh, nightmare.”

“Can we hear something?” Rumi asks.

“Oh, gosh, you guys don’t wanna hear my stuff,” Zoey laughs. “It’s not that good, honestly.”

“I mean, I know a bit about music production from my guardian,” Rumi pushes, glaring at Mira when she laughs. “Worst case, I could give you some pointers?”

“Ugh. Maybe, let me think about it. I- oh, I’m so rude, we’ve been talking about me the whole time!”

“That was on purpose- I already know everything about her,” Mira says, shoving Rumi playfully.

“Not everything, I have some secrets,” Rumi argues.

“I know about the teddy bear, Rumi.”

She looks appalled. “How??”

“We share an apartment,” Mira snorts.

Rumi grumbles about privacy and boundaries. “That’s not my only secret,” she insists, pink rising high in her cheeks.

“Sure it’s not,” Mira agrees, too easily.

Before Rumi can act on what looks to Zoey like an urge to tackle Mira (or at least attempt to, given that Mira is half a head taller than she is), Zoey asks, “So how did you two meet?”

“We work together,” Mira says.

“Or we will, soon. Trying to figure out one last piece of our team, still, but after that we’ll be underway.”

“Oh, cool. So what brought you here?”

“We’re conducting, um. Interviews. Tomorrow morning,” Mira says, brow crinkling as she chooses her words. “We got a lead from a reputable source that we’d find our last member here on the island.”

“Oh, cool. Is it like a startup, or something?”

“Something like that.” “Kinda sorta.”

“Very helpful,” Zoey chuckles. “Are you gonna solve world hunger, or clean up trash, or- oh, no, don’t tell me you’re doing something with AI, please.”

“Ew, no,” Mira snorts. “It is kind of a secret right now, though. Literally everyone has to fill out a stack of NDAs taller than me, and that’s-”

“Tall, yeah, yeah, rub it in,” Zoey mock-pouts.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Mira coos at her. “You’re tall compared to some people.”

“I’m moving there,” Zoey declares. She spins in a circle. “Point me in the direction of my new home.”

Mira laughs and slings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a half-hug, half-headlock. “It’s over the rainbow, in Munchkinland.”

“Noooooo…”

They eventually wander back toward the beach, now bathed in moonlight that’s breaking between the clouds overhead. Mira’s arm is still draped over Zoey, and Zoey’s looped an arm through Rumi’s, happily warm, buffered as she is against a slight breeze that’s picked up. She starts pulling them toward the sand, but Rumi puts the brakes on nervously. “It’s- isn’t the beach closed?”

“Technically,” Zoey says, tugging her arm gently. “But it’s too pretty not to go look, and the water’s all warm and not full of kids I’m supposed to keep from drowning- I haven’t been to the beach for fun in weeks. Please?”

Rumi huffs. “Okay, okay, put the puppy eyes away,” she grumbles, fighting a smile as Zoey and Mira cheer and drag her toward the water. “I’m not going in, though.”

“Aw.” “Boo!”

Rumi flushes slightly. “I’m not- I don’t…”

“Rumi,” Zoey says gently, “do you know how to swim?”

Mira stops her moaning and groaning for a moment. “You do, right?”

Rumi’s answer is her turning scarlet from her hairline to the high neck of her rashguard. She crosses her arms over her chest. “No, I- there wasn’t always a lot of time for stuff like that, when I was a kid, and my hair gets all gross, and I just never got around to it, I guess.”

“That’s okay!” Zoey soothes, smoothing her hands up and down Rumi’s arms. “That’s totally fine, I used to teach an adult swim class at the pool in Burbank. No big deal. Lots of people can’t swim. I can show you a little, if you want?”

She can feel a bit of the tension bleed from her new friend’s frame. “Really, it’s not necessary. I’d feel silly.”

“Dude, who is there to feel silly in front of? It’s just us here,” Mira says. “Ideal opportunity for silliness.”

“And you have your own personal lifeguard on duty,” Zoey adds, dancing on the line between playful and earnest. “I promise I won’t let you drown.”

Rumi sighs again. “Okay, fine.”

“Whoop!” “Yeeeeessss!”

She laughs as they drag her down to the water, only to clam up again as soon as Mira and Zoey start stripping out of their shirts. “Oh, um. Are we not… wearing clothes? Because I thought, since we’re all wearing swimsuits, we’d, um. Keep them on.”

And here’s the truth, reader- Mira and Zoey had only been stripping off their covers (shirts and Mira’s sarong) so they didn’t get their actual clothes wet.

However, now that Rumi’s mentioned it, skinny dipping doesn’t seem unappealing.

Like, at all.

They look at Rumi, look at one another, and come to the mutual decision that getting Rumi out of that fucking shirt is as high a priority as teaching her to swim.

(Okay, maybe not, but close.)

Zoey shrugs. “I don’t mind if you guys don’t. Plus, with too much on, it’s hard to get a feel for it, your arms and legs drag in the water, and stuff.”

“Plus, y’know. Bonding, or whatever,” Mira agrees quickly. “Good for team cohesion.”

‘This is a startup I wanna work at, if getting naked is considered ‘good for team cohesion,' Zoey thinks, slipping her thumbs under the waistband of her board shorts and looking at Rumi for approval. “Is this okay?”

Rumi’s attention seems to lie just above said waistband. “Um…”

“You can say no, no big deal,” Mira assures her, gentler than she’s been so far. “I get how it could be uncomfortable.”

This seems to bolster Rumi, who screws her face up in determination and whips her shirt off, dropping it to the sand. “No, it’s fine. For, um. Bonding, right?”

“Absolutely,” Zoey agrees, dropping her shorts, already deeply obsessed with Rumi's muscular arms now that they've been revealed.

Something lands on her head, followed swiftly by something landing at Rumi’s feet. She hears splashing behind her and turns just in time to see a pale, lithe body slip underwater. She turns back to look at Rumi, who’s staring at the spot where Mira disappeared like she’s been struck by lightning.

“Oh,” she mumbles, eyes huge.

It’s so cute that Zoey has to laugh, pulling what she now realizes is Mira’s bikini top off of her head. “C’mon, or she’s gonna make fun of us for sure.”

This seems to shake Rumi awake, and she strips off the rest of her clothes with startling speed, sprinting past Zoey and into the water.

‘Those may well be the best asses I’ve ever seen,’ Zoey thinks to herself as she struggles her way out of her athletic bikini top. ‘Scratch that- they definitely are. I can’t even pick a second place. Tied for first in the Best Butt division, Mira and Rumi.’

“Are you coming in or not?” Mira jeers from somewhere a ways out.

Zoey finally frees herself (her stupid whistle got tangled up in her pigtails) and sprints after them, yelping in delight as the cool water splashes up to her stomach. She does a shallow dive just to get it over with, anticipating (correctly) that Mira is lurking nearby, waiting to splash her. 

She surfaces and wipes the water from her eyes, settling on her knees and keeping everything below her shoulders submerged. “Oo! Brisk, I like it!”

She can hear Mira’s deep laugh just behind her, and whips around to see her slipping silently through the water. “Boo.”

“Yeah, yeah, very scary,” Zoey chuckles, pushing water at her halfheartedly. “Where’s Rumi?”

“Here,” she says, sitting in the shallow water, arms wrapped around bent knees and hands gripping her biceps.

(Zoey would also like to grip those biceps, but now doesn’t seem like the time.)

“Oh, thank goodness, I was afraid I broke my promise,” Zoey jokes, paddling over to her. Seeing her rigid posture, she pauses. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, just.” She bites her lip and looks back toward the beach nervously. “I’ve never broken this many rules before,” she half-whispers.

Zoey giggles, settling into a backfloat behind her. “It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?”

Rumi tips her head back with a bashful smile. “Kinda.”

“And this is why you’re in charge, you have such good ideeeaaaas,” Mira groans, arms folded behind her head as she floats by, eyes closed.

Something glints, hard and shiny, in the light, and Zoey just about loses her mind when she realizes that Mira has a barbell through each dusky nipple.

‘Because of course she does, why wouldn’t the leggy, snarky, good-looking-enough-to-be-a-serious-Miss-South-Korea-candidate have pierced nipples? Obviously she does, because she’s perfect.’ Zoey’s brain completely bluescreens for a minute, all higher functions shutting down rapidly.

Rumi shakes her head fondly, still eyeing the beach with some trepidation. Zoey's brain kicks back on and she softens, relaxing into an awkward half-kneel, half-paddle as she comes up behind Rumi, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder and keeping it there as Rumi relaxes under her touch. She thumbs over a criss-cross of purple kineseo-tape that goes from Rumi’s right shoulder to halfway down her forearm. “What happened here?”

“Oh, um. Old injury, taekwondo,” Rumi mutters. “It acts up, sometimes.”

“You wanna try floating first? It’s probably one of the easier things to learn, and definitely the most useful if you ever fall in unexpectedly. And it’d be easy on your shoulder, if it’s sore.” She does an admirable job at keeping her voice steady and calm, she thinks. Because Rumi burns under her hands like she has a fever, and her big, soulful eyes are on Zoey, watching her over her shoulder, her profile sharp against the water.

There’s a moment of hesitation as Rumi eyes her, teeth snagging on her lower lip, before she nods and releases a breath. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Great! So, what I need you to do is unpretzel yourself, and kind of lie back.” Seeing Rumi open her mouth to protest, she hastens to assure her, “I won’t let you drown, remember? I’m going to be holding you up at first.”

“Celine said that, when I was learning to ride a bike,” Rumi grumbles, though she does follow Zoey’s instructions to unknot her limbs. “She let go of me, and I crashed into a fence and lost a tooth.”

“My dad did the same thing, and I crashed into our car,” Zoey giggles.

“I crashed into a horse,” Mira offers as she floats by again. 

Still belly up, still driving Zoey insane (and Rumi too, if her sudden tense exhale is anything to go by).

Zoey turns to Rumi, desperately attempting to re-rack her focus. “A horse?” she mouths silently once that settles in her brain, and Rumi snorts a laugh, relaxing against Zoey as she reclines in the water. “Okay, Rumi, I’m gonna move around to your side and hold you up, a hand on your shoulders and one on your legs, okay?”

Rumi breathes out slowly, face screwed up in concentration. “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

“Good,” Zoey says, unable to resist running her hand over Rumi’s head, stroking a thumb over her eyebrow as she shifts and settles. “Good job, just try to relax a little.”

Rumi opens her left eye with a small frown. “I… am? Relaxed?”

“Yeobo, I say this with professionalism and concern- you are definitely not relaxed,” Zoey chuckles. “Your core is totally tightened up, you’re all tense, all the way down to your toes. You have to relax your muscles in order to float.”

“That seems…. Wrong,” Rumi mutters.

“It’s not,” Mira assures, floating up and stopping at Rumi’s head, shooting her a soft smile as she cradles the back of her head in both (large) hands. 

Rumi tips her head back to look up at her as Mira settles onto her knees in the shallows. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Zoey murmurs. “I’ll show you where to release the tension, okay? Just gentle touches.”

Rumi bites her lip again and nods, closing her eyes and settling back against their hands, but somehow still the least-relaxed anyone has ever looked while surrounded by (hot) naked women in the ocean.

‘Maybe this is how sailors felt with sirens,’ Zoey thinks, stifling a laugh.

And look, Zoey’s been being so, so good and professional, and she has been not ogling them this whole time, but holy shit, it’s like they’re carved from fucking marble.

Where Mira is all long, lean, lithe, and sinewy- she looks like she’s dancing even sitting still, with the way the water makes her reflection writhe and ripple-, Rumi is hard , muscular and compact with seemingly no wasted space on her athletic frame. The moonlight is faint, but all that does is throw the sharpness of her (currently wet) physique into sharp relief, shadows shifting and dancing across her abdomen as she takes each breath.

Zoey would very much like to bite, lick, nibble, kiss- just put her mouth on every single part of both of them, for as long as they’ll let her.

‘No, no, focus.’

Zoey pulls her hand away from Rumi’s back, confident that Mira will keep her head above water, and lets her hand drift to the harsh line of Rumi’s shoulders and across her neck. “Try to relax this, a little.”

“I have to keep my head up, though,” she argues, left eye peeking open again.

“No, you don’t. I’ve got you,” Mira says. “I won’t let you drown either.” She smooths her thumbs over the many piercings studding Rumi’s ears and scratches lightly at her nape, eliciting a gentle shudder as Rumi’s eye slips closed once again. “Just relax.”

Rumi lets out a breath and Zoey can see the tension bleed from her neck and shoulders, head shifting slightly as Mira adjusts her hold to accommodate the new weight in her hands.

“Good job,” Zoey praises (another shudder, which she graciously chooses to ignore), and moves her hand across the defined cuts of Rumi’s deltoid, bicep, and down to her forearm, gently circling her wrist in a loose grip. “Now your arms.”

“How do I…?” she seems almost embarrassed, to not know how to relax, and Zoey feels a sharp pang of sympathy. ‘What must that be like, to be wound so tight you think that this is loose?’

“Try to flex as hard as you can,” Zoey says softly, watching as Rumi complies, barely resisting the urge to tighten the grip on her wrist to better feel the muscles quiver in her hand. “Then release.”

Zoey can feel the weight of Rumi’s arm lift as it floats gently in the water.

“Perfect, Rumi,” she murmurs, stroking over her forearm whisper-soft. “That’s perfect.”

(Another shudder, this time paired with shifting legs and a sharp inhale, good god.)

Zoey blows out her own calming breath, making the mistake of making eye contact with Mira, who’s biting her lip so hard it looks like it might start bleeding.

‘Professional, professional, I’m a professional…’

But nothing about this is anywhere near professional, and hasn’t been from go.

Still, she white-knuckles her self-control (as little as she seems to have, right now), and murmurs, “I’m gonna move down a little and touch your legs, okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

She almost sounds half-asleep, and it’d be cute if it weren’t for the rest of this ridiculous situation.

Zoey seeks out the moon for comfort, guidance, patience, permission- she honestly doesn’t even know, at this point, but she seeks something, getting literally nothing in return. She moves down Rumi’s side, hand running lightly over her hip, thigh, knee, calf, and smooths a hand down her shin back up to her knee. She chuckles as Rumi twitches slightly when Zoey’s hand rubs between her knees. “Now here, hips to toes. Do what you did before, with your arms, flex really hard.”

Rumi does as instructed, muscles coiling and standing out in sharp relief  as the water laps gently over them, and Zoey is avoiding looking at the apex of her sculpted thighs with all she’s got (which admittedly isn’t much) and a peek at the thatch of close-cropped dark hair is very nearly her undoing before she drags her eyes up to Mira’s face.

Mira, who seems to have far fewer qualms about this entire thing, and is watching with a rapture that seems hungry. When she catches Zoey looking, she throws her a playful wink, tipping her chin to get Zoey to continue the horniest, most inappropriate swimming lesson she’s ever had to (and will ever have to) conduct, bending a bit to say something to Rumi so quietly that Zoey doesn’t catch it.

“And relax,” Zoey says lowly, stroking over Rumi’s shin again.

It’s like slicing a guitar string, the way the tension snaps and releases so immediately. Rumi’s legs start to drift with the waves, and Zoey chuckles as she skims her hand along the back of her leg as she moves back up to her side. “Perfect, now, last is your core, here.” And bolstered as she is by Rumi’s responsiveness, her compliance, her trust, Zoey runs her fingers lightly over the taut muscles of her stomach. “Tighten up, hard.”

Rumi sucks in an unsteady breath and holds herself firm.

Zoey scratches her nails gently over the quivering muscles under her hand before laying her palm over cut abs. “Release,” she says softly.

The breath leaves Rumi in an audible whoosh as she goes completely, utterly slack in their hands.

And later on, Zoey will blame the moonlight, the bottle of plum soju they had earlier, anything but her own selfish need to push just a bit further as she breathes, “There you go. Good girl.”

The muscles bunch and clench again under her hand, and this time, there’s just the slightest, tiniest whine that sounds like it’s been physically ripped from Rumi’s throat.

“Holy shit ,” Mira whispers, mouth dropping open slightly, looking the most off-kilter she has since Zoey’s met her, eyes wide and a bit wild.

“Relax, jagiya,” Zoey soothes. “That’s it, just like before. Good.”

She slowly goes limp again, and Zoey smiles. “See? Not so bad, huh?”

“No,” Rumi murmurs, sounding a bit breathless. “‘s nice.”

“You’re doing great,” Zoey hums, and she slowly, slowly removes her supporting hands from Rumi’s body. “So good, Rumi.” She watches from the corner of her eye as Mira does the same, and soon enough they’re both kneeling in the water, hands raised, as Rumi floats peacefully between them, all on her own. 

They grin madly at one another, making ridiculous victory faces and gestures as quietly as they can, and come to an unspoken decision. Mira slips silently to Rumi’s right side, leaning back to mimic her position while Zoey does the same on her left.

“Do you wanna know something cute about otters?” Zoey asks quietly.

“Sure,” Rumi says, not opening her eyes.

“They float on their backs to sleep, like this. And they hold hands with their mates or friends, so they don’t float too far away from each other.” She slips her hand into Rumi’s, seeing Mira do the same on her other side, and slots their fingers together. “And they keep holding hands like that, the whole time they sleep. Because they don’t wanna be apart.”

“That is cute,” Rumi agrees, sounding sleepy herself.

Zoey tips her head to look at Rumi in profile. She’s gorgeous like this. “Rumi?”

“Yeah?”

“Open your eyes.”

She watches, rapt, as Rumi blinks up at the bright light of the moon. “Okay?”

“You’re floating,” Mira says with a quiet laugh.

For a brief moment, it’s almost ruined as Rumi’s eyes widen and her brain kicks back on, muscles tensing again.

“We’ve got you,” Zoey assures her, giving her hand a squeeze to anchor her. 

“You’re good,” from Mira. "Just relax."

She watches as Rumi makes herself relax again, eyes slipping closed, forehead smoothing, strain melting away. Within moments, she’s floating again, and soon enough she opens her eyes to look up at the sky above, and god if the clear patch of stars doesn’t make her eyes sparkle. She raises their interlocked hands out of the water, and smiles. “Like the otters.”

“Exactly like the otters,” Mira sighs, pulling their hands to rest on her stomach as her eyes slip closed.

“No drifting away,” Zoey agrees.

Rumi chuckles, low in her chest. “Good.” She tips her head to smile, crooked and cute, at Zoey, squeezing her hand tight. “Wouldn’t want to.”

Eventually, they turn to prunes and have to drag themselves back to shore, waterlogged limbs heavy in the shallow water.

All semblance of shyness and modesty seemingly disappeared somewhere among the waves, so they allow themselves a few moments to air dry before attempting to struggle back into their clothes.

“So that’s swimming,” Rumi muses.

Mira snorts, wringing her hair out on the sand. “I mean, there’s usually slightly less nudity.”

“Slightly, huh?” Rumi teases.

“Yeah, usually none, give or take a speedo mishap,” Zoey chuckles. “But it helped, right?”

Rumi shakes her head ruefully. “Yes. Not sure how or why, but it did help.”

“It’s the vibes,” Mira nods sagely. “Can’t be embarrassed in front of naked people.”

“There’s a reason artists picture the crowd naked when they’re onstage,” Zoey agrees, stretching her arms over her head and leaping away with a yelp when Mira pokes her in the belly. “Hey!”

“I hadn’t heard that one,” Rumi laughs, tugging her shirt back on, much to her companions’ disappointment.

“Seriously?” Zoey gawps. “It’s right up there with ‘break a leg’ as far as stage advice goes!”

Rumi shrugs, unapologetic. “Maybe it’s an American thing?”

“It isn’t,” Mira snickers. “I’ve heard both before I go on stage.”

“Oooo, you perform?” Zoey asks.

“I dance, sometimes I sing a little,” Mira shrugs, stepping back into the bottoms that Rumi tosses her.

“A little,” Rumi mutters, rolling her eyes fondly. “‘Sings a little’, she says…”

“Ha! I knew you were a dancer!” Zoey cheers. 

“Oh yeah? How come?” Mira asks with a knowing smirk, turning and lifting a brow at Zoey that beckons her to retie the loose strings of her bikini top.

“This is the most stereotypical dancer body I’ve ever seen,” Zoey laughs, gesturing at said body, thankful that her hands shake only a little as she redoes the knot. Feeling daring, she runs a hand over the smooth, elegant planes of Mira’s back. “All long and flowy and graceful.”

Mira smirks. “Uh-huh. All that from casual, friendly observation?”

Zoey locks eyes with her. “No. I wouldn’t say casual. I’ve only been staring at it for the past-” she checks her watch again. “-five hours.”

“Not quite four,” Mira corrects with a grin.

“I was looking at you way before you came up to me,” Zoey argues.

“I know. We were looking at you before that, too.”

“I know,” Zoey says with a grin. “It was hot. And definitely not friendly.”

“Mmm. Maybe not.” She turns to Rumi. “So, are you ready to head out?”

The other woman is shivering slightly as she nods. “More than. ‘m freezing, now.”

“It’s the long hair, it’ll get you every time,” Zoey says wisely. 

“Hot shower will fix you right up,” Mira agrees, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

“Sounds great,” Rumi says. “I’ll call Yi-Joon, he’ll come get us and bring us back to the hotel.”

Zoey’s heart sinks, and she scolds herself a little for falling into the fantasy she’s been floating in for the past few hours. “Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“You’re coming too, Zoey,” Mira says, eyeing her with exasperated affection like she’s a beloved but very stupid pet who’s just run into a wall. Again.

“Oh, no, it’s alright, I can walk back to my dorm from here, it’s not a big deal,” Zoey says, waving away the offer.

Rumi looks startled, then a bit hurt. “Oh! Um, I mean, if that’s what you want to do, then-”

“Oh my god, do I have to do everything?” Mira mutters.

And before Zoey can blink, she’s being kissed within an inch of her life, Mira methodically snapping her brain clean in half as her hot tongue sweeps into Zoey’s mouth, sliding firm and wet against Zoey’s own.

She tastes salty, and sweet like the drinks they’d had earlier, and all Zoey can think is that she’s been waiting for this all day, and it’s was so worth it, even for someone as ADHD-riddled as she is, and-

She’s propelling Zoey slowly backward until she backs into something warm and solid. It takes Zoey a second to realize that the object she’s pinned against is, in fact, Rumi, whose hands come to rest softly on her waist.

“Is this okay?” Rumi husks against her ear, blunt nails scratching lightly over her toned stomach.

"God yes,” Zoey groans, turning to pull her down into a searing kiss.

Rumi hums, grip tightening as she pulls Zoey in hard. She’s less sure of herself than Mira, but no less enthusiastic, and quickly picks up on the tempo Zoey sets with lips, teeth, tongue, matching it with a low moan that vibrates Zoey’s tongue where it’s sliding into her mouth.

Zoey pulls back with a gasp, desperately trying to fill her lungs, only to have all the air rush back out when Mira tucks her hair back, pulls the collar of her loose shirt down, and starts sucking a bruise at the juncture of shoulder and neck. “Mira…”

She feels a puff of hot air against the wet skin as Mira chuckles. “Well, every hero needs a medal, right? Only, I don’t seem to have one on me, right now, so I guess we’ll have to make do…”

In front of her, Rumi snorts, pressing delicate kisses all over her face in a seemingly random pattern. It takes Zoey a moment to realize she’s trying to kiss each freckle individually.

They’re so perfect she just might die.

But what a way to go.

“The um- god!- the driver, to the hotel,” she gasps. “You should call…”

“Maybe I don’t want to wait,” Mira murmurs, nipping gently at the shell of her ear. “Maybe, I think you look so pretty right now that I just… can’t… help myself…”

“Holy shit,” Zoey pants. 

And suddenly, the warm assault on her neck and ear ends, and she shivers as she’s exposed to the cold (not really at all) night air once more.

“Or maybe you’re right, and we shouldn’t get caught fucking you on the beach,” Mira drawls as she pulls away. “Might upset some people.”

And Zoey knows she’s right- hell, she’d said it herself not 20 seconds ago.

However, when confronted with the practical reality of logical suggestions, those concerns burn away. “No, come back,” she grumbles, groaning as Rumi tries her hand at giving Zoey a ‘medal’ of her own, catching the meat of Zoey’s shoulder in her teeth and biting down just enough for Zoey to get distracted and drag their mouths back together. Rumi’s arms wrap tight around her, muscles bulging slightly as she pulls Zoey up off the ground. Zoey’s legs wrap around her hips without delay, and she can’t help dragging in a slow grind against the hard ridges of Rumi’s stomach, groaning at the sensation even through her shorts and Rumi’s shirt. “You’re strong," she breathes against Rumi’s mouth, eliciting a cocky grin.

Behind her, Mira rolls her eyes playfully. “Show-off,” she heckles, covering the receiver as she tells their semi-frantic driver where they are. “No, Yi-Joon, not you. We’re at the same beach as we were earlier. See you in a few.” She tucks the phone away after making sure the call is disconnected and reattaches herself to Zoey’s back. “He’ll be here in five.” She grabs Zoey’s wrist, the one with her watch, and eyes it, humming thoughtfully. “The ride there is about 10 minutes, another 3 to get up to the room… it’ll have to be quick, but I ah, think we can manage, with how worked up you are,” she murmurs against Zoey’s neck, dragging her mouth down her nape in a series of open-mouthed kisses. She frowns as she’s blocked by Zoey’s shirt. “Why did we wait until we had clothes on again to start doing this?”

“No idea,” Rumi grumbles, hitching Zoey higher and locking her arms under muscled thighs. “Think we might be stupid.”

“You two are, for sure,” Mira sniffs, yelping when Zoey tucks her arm back and pinches her. “You thought we were going to make you walk home alone! And you almost let her do it!”

They break apart for a moment and stare at one another, a single thought passing between them; ‘Holy shit, she’s right.’

Rumi sets Zoey back on her feet carefully, making sure her footing is steady, before cupping a hand behind Mira’s head and pulling her down into a gentler kiss.

Zoey’s transfixed as their lips slide and slip together, a sliver of tongue visible between them for a brief moment before vanishing again. Rumi lets out a sound that almost sounds like the noises the tigers make when Zoey’s seen them sunbathing at the zoo, a pleased, rumbling groan.

They’re so beautiful, it’s insane. This entire thing is insane.

Then again, Zoey’s never been called sane.

Finally they break apart, a strand of saliva hanging between them for a moment longer before snapping.

“I’ve wanted to do that for weeks," Rumi mumbles.

“I was waiting for you to do that,” Mira laughs, ducking in for another kiss, “for weeks.”

“So, does that mean we’re all stupid?” Rumi asks innocently (or as innocently as one can, when one has their paramour’s ass in a tight, two-handed grip).

Mira huffs, head-butting her affectionately. “Fine. But just this once.”

Zoey tucks herself against Mira’s back, nuzzling her forehead between her shoulders and sighing happily, hands holding onto Rumi’s stupid, perfect arms. “Good. One of us needs to be smart, and I refuse to let it be me.”

“Oh yeah?” Rumi laughs.

“Mmm. It’d be tragic,” Zoey says. “We’d all die, for sure. Like, so fast.”

“That would be tragic,” Mira says. “Because I have plans for both of you.”

“You do, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mira says. “Big ones.” She presses another kiss to the bridge of Rumi’s nose, turning to plant one on Zoey's lips before stepping away. “Now, c’mon. The car’s here.”

These big plans evidently involve torturing Zoey all the way to the hotel, whispering a stream of deliciously sweet, filthy words into her ear, a large, warm hand sliding slowly up the inside of her thigh, then tugging her all the way across the lobby by the wrist, and then she and Rumi pinning her up against the mirrored wall of the elevator and lavishing attention on her neck (and maybe, possibly, Rumi growls and yanks her shirt open harshly and a button or two go flying- who’s to say what happens in there?).

By the time they reach their floor, Zoey’s looking a little debauched and feeling more than a little desperate, and so she can’t really be blamed for slamming Mira against the door to their suite. “One of you better open this fucking door so I can climb you like a tree.”

Mira grins. “All over it, babe ."

And maybe the distinctly American pet name slipping out so easily, the English sounding blunt in a stream of Korean is what snaps Zoey’s final tether to sanity.

Or, maybe it’s that Rumi finally managed to find the key card and open the door.

Either way, she pounces, scrambling up Mira until she can wrap her legs around her hips, tangling her fingers carelessly into her hair and tugging her forward into a kiss.

Mira stumbles as the door opens, but thankfully Rumi (who may or may not be laughing, hard) manages to catch them and keep them upright. “Damn, Zoey, easy.”

But Zoey takes no heed, only reaching out to grab a fistful of Rumi’s shirt and drag her forward into a kiss that takes her breath away, coaxing Rumi’s tongue into her mouth and then sucking on it like she’ll die if she doesn’t make Rumi feel half as desperate as she is.

When Zoey pulls away, Rumi is no longer laughing, and instead looks dazed, pupils blown wide. “Oh, wow."

Zoey turns back to Mira, nipping at her lips playfully, mischief in her eyes. “Shower. Bed. Couch. Table. Flat surface. I don’t care. But now.”

Mira does laugh. “Yes ma’am.”

She walks easily into the en suite bathroom and directly into the shower, tugging Zoey’s shirt the rest of the way off, as Zoey drags Rumi after them by the shirt. She sets her back onto the floor, and it’s a three-way race to see who can get naked fastest (Rumi), with the winner having to help Zoey out of her very practical (and very, very annoying) swimsuit as Zoey tries to unbraid Rumi’s insanely long hair. 

Mira, the cheater, simply pulls the ties on her bikini apart, and they drop to the ground with minimal effort. She kicks them aside with a smirk as she rejoins them just as Zoey’s top finally comes off, and she bends and pulls the trunks off in a smooth motion, leaving them all bare.

Rumi flips the water on, and they all yelp and laugh as they’re hit by the initial jets of cold water. Zoey turns in their embrace, burying her face in Mira’s chest, humming happily as Rumi laughs behind her.

Mira’s chest shakes with mirth, and Zoey pouts as she looks up at her. “Having fun down there?”

“Yes,” Zoey groans, heaving a sigh as Rumi scrubs methodically at her back with a soap that smells warm and spicy and exactly the way they both smelled before they jumped into the ocean. She groans as Mira tightens a fist in her hair, pulling her away from Mira’s perfect, soft, pierced breasts. “Warm, comfy, water pressure, nice soap, boobs… ”

“In that order?” Mira asks mildly, scrubbing shampoo into her scalp in gentle circles.

“Nooo, no. Boobs, then warm, then nice soap, then…” Zoey thinks for a minute, and draws a complete blank. “Um. Then the rest of it.”

Mira chuckles, pressing a kiss to a soapy eyebrow. “Correct answer.”

Rumi tugs her gently under the spray of the showerhead, rinsing away the soap as she lathers herself up and passes the soap to Mira, who by now is rinsing shampoo out of her own tangled hair. She motions to Rumi to turn around and spins Zoey as well, dropping the shampoo bottle into her hands. “Help her with that, please.”

Zoey does so enthusiastically, massaging the shampoo in at the scalp and working it to a lather through the rest of the violet locks. “Your hair is so pretty, Rumi, you’re so pretty,” she sighs, giggling as Rumi shudders again at the praise. “Do you like hearing how pretty I think you are? Because you’re absolutely gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and strong… ”

Rumi’s back is to her, but in such close proximity, it’s easy to hear how her breath hitches in her chest. 

Zoey tugs her back against her chest so she’s under the spray. “So, so pretty,” she murmurs, arms looped around Rumi’s lean waist, giggling as she feels the muscles jump at her touch. Mira moves up behind Zoey, freed as she now is from suds, and scratches her nails teasingly down Zoey’s ribs, those fucking piercings dragging over the tops of Zoey’s shoulders.

“That’s better,” Mira murmurs. “All clean.”

There’s a stretch of contented silence before Rumi clears her throat.  “Um, I uh. I haven’t really, like, done this before,” she admits quietly, though they both hear her. She turns her head to look over her shoulder at them. “I’m- is that okay?”

“This being three people, this being girls, or this being sex, at all?” Mira asks calmly, though she does stop fondling Zoey’s boobs, to their mutual disappointment.

“Um. Yes?” Rumi says, shrugging. Zoey tugs at her hips and she turns around with a sigh. “I just, um. I’m a little embarrassed, I don’t really know what to do, with other people? I barely know what to do with me, half the time. And I’m afraid I’m gonna, like. Do it wrong.”

“Do you wanna keep going?” Mira asks softly, tone gentle and warm as a summer breeze as she reaches out to cup Rumi’s face in her hand. 

“Yeah, if you’re not up for it, you can totally tap out,” Zoey reassures her, giving her a hug. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No! No, I wanna keep going, but I just thought I should mention it,” Rumi clarifies, nuzzling against Mira’s hand with a sigh. “I just don’t want anyone to be, um. Disappointed?”

Zoey shakes her head resolutely. “Not a chance.” 

Mira snorts, tracing her thumb over Rumi’s cheek. “Yeah, right, like you could disappoint at anything, ever.”

Rumi scoffs, stepping back and dropping her gaze to the floor as she scrubs roughly at her tape-covered right arm. “We’ll see.”

“No, I’m so serious, you could literally stand there t-posing and yelling the alphabet at me in a burlap rice sack, and it’d probably still work for me, because it’s you, babo,” Mira says, rolling her eyes with a smile that’s so tender it makes Zoey ache as Mira adjusts her hold and forces Rumi to look her in the eyes. “It’s totally embarrassing how into you I am. And you too- it’s even worse since we literally met a few hours ago,” she says, pinching Zoey’s nipple and nipping at her ear again.

“No, I- ah, shit!- I know what you mean,” Zoey says, swatting Mira’s thigh playfully as she bites her neck. “I definitely don’t generally go home with a random tourist I met at work, let alone two . I just feel… drawn to you both, it’s wild, like- fuck, what are you a vampire? ”

Rumi snorts, stepping closer and relaxing into their embrace. “Same here,” she murmurs, dropping her head onto Mira’s shoulder. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“And if it makes you feel any better, I’ve also never been with two other people at the same time,” Zoey offers with a smile. “So that’s definitely new to me.”

“That does make me feel better, actually,” Rumi admits, heaving a sigh.

They both peer over at Mira curiously, and she shrugs, unapologetic. “Nope. Rebellious problem child. You name it, I’ve probably done it. Probably more than once.” 

Rumi shakes her head fondly. “Well good, at least someone knows what they’re doing,” she says, leaning up on tiptoes to press a kiss to Mira’s smirking mouth.

“I sure do,” Mira practically purrs. She tucks a strand of Rumi’s hair behind her ear. “Thank you for saying something. We want you to be comfortable, especially your first time. Let us know what you need to stay comfortable.” 

Rumi nods, smiling. “I will. There’s a lot more, um, laughing, than I thought there’d be.”

“Sex is supposed to be fun,” Mira says fondly. “If you can’t laugh, you’re maybe not having it with the right person. Or people.” She tugs Zoey’s watch up to eye-level again and sighs. “Alright, well, now that we’re all settled down, we’ve gotta do this fast.”

“Yes, good, what are we doi- eek!”

Zoey finds herself suddenly spun around and pinned between the two of them again, and Mira’s- holy shit, holy shit- Mira’s dropping to her knees, kissing her way down, down, down…

“Oh my god,” Zoey groans as Mira pulls one of her legs up and over to the side, leaving her fully exposed. 

“You wanna learn how to do this?” she asks Rumi, who nods with almost comical enthusiasm. She pulls Zoey’s leg up a little higher. “Hold this, and watch. And use your other hand to play with her nipples, just try whatever you like when you do it to yourself, okay? She’ll tell you if it’s not her thing.”

Rumi does as she’s bidden without hesitation, strong, calloused fingers gripping Zoey’s thigh and holding her open as her other hand cups Zoey’s breast, thumbing over it gently. Her eyes are wide as she watches Mira lean forward and kiss just above Zoey’s pubic bone.

“You good?” she asks Zoey, pressing another gentle kiss parallel to the one before, smiling as the muscles of Zoey’s stomach bunch and jump eagerly.

“Golden, now will you please-"

The rest of her complaint is lost in a shout as Mira ducks forward and licks a hot stripe up through her folds, running the flat of her tongue over her clit before sliding back down the same way. Her tongue probes lightly at her entrance before slipping back up again. Mira laps at her clit with a happy hum, evidently perfectly content with her back being sprayed by the shower as she gives Zoey the most thorough head she’s ever had. Her tongue seems to be everywhere, and Zoey’s lost in the slick heat of her it, of Rumi’s firm grip on her thigh, the sting as she flicks and pinches at her breast, the quiet groans and shifting hips against her ass, of the shower water hitting her on the stomach, of her own breathy moans.

Mira pulls away for a moment, biting gently on the muscle of Zoey’s inner thigh to get her attention. “We’re supposed to be teaching, right now,” Mira reminds her. “So I need for you to tell us what you like, babe."

“I like that ,” Zoey gasps. “More of what you were doing. Please,” she adds, when Mira just cocks an eyebrow at her.

“I’m flattered,” she chuckles, tipping her head in a way that would seem adorable if she would just let Zoey cum already, “but I need you to tell her what I’m doing, so she can do it too.”

“Okay okay, yeah, just keep going or I’m gonna die ,” Zoey pants, twisting a hand into Mira’s very, very wet hair and dragging her back. Mira goes back to her previous task of melting Zoey’s brain using only her tongue, only now Zoey has to narrate her own orgasm, which is, essentially, torture. “So she’s, um, she’s dipping her tongue inside me, then going back up to my cli- clit, and she’s putting pressure over, and- holy shit, do that again, please, please, please! God! She’s rolling her tongue against me, and it feels so good, I can feel it all the way to my toes.” Zoey takes a moment to catch a breath, crying out in frustration as Mira pulls away again in admonishment. “Fuck! Okay okay, sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. Now she’s um, she’s using the sides and flat of her tongue all over it, then she’s um. Su- sucking on it, and- no teeth! No teeth, please, too much. Okay, yeah, good, thank you, better. Some, um. Some people like teeth, like to be nibbled on there, sometimes I do too, but right now I’m- ah!- I’m a little too sensitive for that, because she’s teasing me again, goddammit, Mira and she’s just barely dipping her tongue in me, where I want her to be, and then she’s moving away, and it’s awful, don’t stop, plea- oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou, just like that.” Zoey knows she must sound wrecked, right now, would honestly be surprised if Rumi understands half of her babbling, because she genuinely isn’t sure if she’s keeping to Korean or if she’s blurring it with English into indecipherable nonsense, but she’s far, far beyond caring as Mira kisses and suckles at her folds. “She’s moving back to my clit, and she’s- fuck! - sucking on it, not too hard, it’s perfect, yeah, please, like that. And when she sucks on it, it um. Makes me wobbly, so please don’t let me fall, that’d be embarrassing!” She feels Rumi’s grip on her tighten and relaxes a bit. “Shit! She’s picking up the pace, now, because she can tell I’m close- faster, please, harder- and she’s got her finger slipping in, just a little, thrusting a little at a time so it’s timed with her sucking my clit again, and she’s gonna suck the soul out of me, apparently , and- oh, fuck!”

Orgasm rolls up her spine at an almost leisurely pace, hitting the base of her skull and making her brain fill with TV static and fireworks. She’s aware of the fact that someone is keeping her upright, aware that the pressure low in her hips seems to be ratcheting tighter again before it even has time to fully loosen, closer, closer still…

This time, it’s chain lightning, and she doesn’t stand a chance. Her legs give out, her mind goes blank, and her vision goes white.

“Wow,” Rumi murmurs into her ear, audibly awed. “That was- wow."

“You can put her leg down, now, she needs a second. Carefully, keep her steady- there you go.”

There’s shuffling as her leg is lowered and she regains her feet, then a low groan, and something warm and lean is pressing against her front, and Zoey hums as she’s caught between Rumi and what must be Mira, warm and snug and safe as can be.

“You alive?” Mira teases, brushing her nose over Zoey’s eyebrows and kissing her on the forehead. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

“Maybe,” Zoey mutters, eyes staying stubbornly closed.

“Well, that’s too bad, because I believe our student is eager to have a taste…” 

Zoey’s eyes flutter open.

“Oh, so that wakes you up,” Mira laughs lowly. “I see how it is. I get you off, and now I’m dead to you.” She lifts Zoey’s wrist again to check her watch and grins. “Buzzer-beater. Two minutes to spare.”

Zoey has no clue what Mira’s talking about, and also she feels that talking is very overrated, so she drags Mira down into a lazy, meandering kiss.

It’s not so much a wildfire, this time, as it is a campfire, warm and cozy and comfortable, and honestly, Zoey’s always been a campfire girl at heart. She hums happily as Mira kisses her gently, as though she might break apart if not handled carefully, ghosting kisses to her top lip, the corner of her mouth, the lid of her eye, the bridge of her nose… She can feel Rumi behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, nosing softly at her neck, steady and warm and grounding.

It’s perfect. Honestly, Zoey could live here forever, even though the water from the shower is lukewarm at best, now, and she can feel Mira starting to shiver. 

She heaves a regretful sigh and fights her baser urges as she says, “We should get out, we’re gonna freeze, soon.” She masssages Mira’s arms and over her back, trying to get her blood flowing again. “You’re already freezing.”

“I can deal,” Mira argues, undercut by the way she snuggles further into Zoey’s embrace to get a bit further out of the spray, piercings scraping over Zoey’s collarbones. Seeing Zoey’s smug, knowing look, she groans. “Oh my god, fine.”

She steps out, tugging Zoey after her, who in turn pulls Rumi, and tosses them all towels.

“That’s the best shower I’ve had in a while,” Zoey jokes, legs still feeling wobbly as a newborn deer. 

“A while, huh?” Mira asks. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Zoey shrugs, playing coy. “Might be.”

Mira’s eyes flash as she fights a smirk, rubbing roughly at her skin with the towel. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now hurry up, I need you both horizontal so I don’t get arthritis trying to kiss you- trust me to fall for short girls.”

“Hey!”

“I’m above average height, beanpole!” Rumi grumbles, trying to snap Mira playfully with her towel and missing by inches.

“Sure you are,” she says, too sweetly to be genuine, before tossing her own damp towel at Rumi and striding out of the room. “See you in a few. Try not to jump each other without me.”

Mira’s sitting with her back against the headboard when they walk in, legs sprawled open lazily, one arm crossed behind her head, the other resting carelessly over her stomach, eyes closed, face smooth and relaxed. She’s as bare as she’d been when she left the bathroom, still-wet hair clinging to her neck and collarbone. The water droplets catch the light from the bedside lamp, shining like diamonds.

She looks like an artist’s master work in the low light of the room. Zoey feels the unreasonable urge to try to find a piece of paper and a pencil, even though she knows she wouldn’t be able to properly capture it with her art skills being limited to doodling in the margins of notebooks.

She seems to sense them staring at her hungrily, and opens her eyes with a smug smile. “Are you going to come over here, or keep being creeps?”

Zoey reacts first, jumping onto the bed, bouncing Mira into the air slightly and straddling her lap to pepper her perfect, fresh-scrubbed face with kisses so feather-light they pull an honest-to-god giggle from her. Rumi’s close behind, crowding Mira’s side and taking hold of her chin to gently turn her in for a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rumi breathes, sounding like she’s been hit in the head, before going in for another kiss, and another, and another...

Zoey keeps herself occupied, smoothing her palms flat over Mira’s breasts and cupping them reverently, even daring to slip one of the barbells that’s been taunting her for an hour into the ‘V’ of her first two fingers and gives just the barest hint of a tug. Mira breaks the kiss with Rumi, threads her long, nimble fingers into Zoey’s hair, and gives it a real tug in warning before loosening her grip and returning her attention to Rumi’s lips. Zoey takes the hint and doesn’t push, instead just thumbing roughly over pert, dusky nipples and studying Mira’s breasts further. Not as large as Rumi’s, nor maybe even Zoey’s, years of dance training have left her wiry and lean and the perfect size to be held in Zoey’s hands. Zoey bends to kiss down her neck, returning the many bites Mira’s given her with one of her own, low on the side of her neck, and sucking a bruise over it to really make her point. She can feel Mira’s groan vibrate against her lips, feel Mira’s hips lift trying to seek some friction, and soon enough she’s just smiling into her neck as Mira rakes her nails down her back and over the soft skin of her ass.

‘What a good day Future Zoey ended up having,' she thinks before licking up the column of Mira’s throat. She nibbles along the line of her sharp jaw, kissing the spots where she can feel the muscles working as Rumi kisses her senseless, and works her way to Mira’s ear. She mouths at the shell of her ear and blows a puff of air over it, giggling when Mira grumbles into Rumi’s mouth. “Told you I’d climb you like a tree,” she whispers, shifting a bit before settling fully into Mira’s lap and starting up a slow, steady grind against her.

Mira’s hands grip her hips, and Zoey’s disappointed to realize that she’s being stopped. Mira pulls away from Rumi’s lips with visible effort, blinking a few times. Rumi pouts at her, dark eyes huge and pleading, but Mira only chuckles, dropping a chaste kiss to swollen lips. “Wait,” she says, turning to Zoey. “I already got you. I wanna see how well Rumi pays attention, don’t you?”

Zoey groans, thighs clenching around Mira’s hips. “Yeah, yeah I do, please.”

Mira turns to Rumi and cocks an eyebrow in challenge. “You wanna try? Or do you wanna go first?”

Rumi looks torn. “I don’t…?”

Mira smirks at her, “Will you stay awake long enough to try if you go first?”

Rumi flushes slightly. “I usually pass out right after,” she admits.

“That’s fine, that’s why I asked,” Mira says. “So you wanna try Zoey?”

Rumi’s now eyeing Zoey like she’s water in a desert. “Yeah, please, I wanna try.”

“Good girl,” Mira praises lowly, and Rumi’s eyes slip closed as a needy whine escapes her. “Zoey, turn around, lay back on me.”

Zoey does as she’s told, pulling another chuckle from Mira with her eagerness. Mira spreads her long legs wider to accommodate her, and soon Zoey’s back is pressed to Mira’s chest, not an inch of space between them. Mira smooths hands down her thighs, pulling them wider when she reaches her knees. “Rumi, c’mere. Facing us.”

She crawls over, smooth power in her movements, the image she projects of a big cat stalking its prey ruined somewhat as she leans into Zoey’s space and smiles nervously at her. Zoey surges forward and tugs her into a clumsy kiss, which only makes Rumi smile wider. Zoey has to huff a laugh as she realizes that all she’s doing is kissing Rumi’s teeth, she’s grinning so wide.

“You’re a goober," she says affectionately, tracing the tip of Rumi’s nose with her own and placing a kiss on the bow of her upper lip.

Rumi’s brow crinkles at the unfamiliar English term. “Is that… good?”

“It is in your case,” Mira chuckles.

“Very good,” Zoey agrees, voice laced with easy affection as she pecks her mouth again.

“Good, then,” Rumi mumbles against her lips. She shifts back onto her haunches, eyes seeking out Mira. “What do I do?”

Mira shakes her head. “Ask her, not me.”

Rumi looks at Zoey, keen and enthused, almost all traces of shyness and nervousness gone from her dancing eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

Zoey swallows thickly. “Lay down, on your stomach, between my legs.” Rumi does so, and she turns to Mira. “Can I have a pillow for my hips?”

“‘Course,” Mira says, jostling them slightly as she grabs a stray pillow across the bed and passes it to Rumi, who slips it under Zoey’s hips. 

She wriggles a bit to get comfortable, settling fully back against Mira with a sigh, humming as Mira gives her a lazy scalp massage. “Better. Okay, did you wanna try with your fingers, or your mouth? I’m fine with either, but fingers might be easier for you the first time because that’s probably what you’re used to doing to yourself…?”

Rumi’s staring transfixed at Zoey’s dripping sex, so close that her breath cools the damp skin and makes Zoey clench around nothing. She swallows harshly. “I, um. Yeah, that sounds good. Fingers.” She looks up at Zoey, and the brown in her eyes is almost gone, lost to her pupils, as she sucks in a shuddering breath. She looks almost drunk, though they haven’t had anything to drink in hours , and definitely not enough to make her look like this . “Can you show me, please?”

“Show you?”

“Like I did,” Mira murmurs huskily into her ear, guiding one of Zoey’s hands between her legs. “Show her how you like to be touched. Tell her what you like, how you want her to touch you.”

She doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t even think about it, just slips her fingers down and over her clit, gasping at the tiny sparks she feels. “Fuck. I like pressure,” she grits out, fingers working over herself. “I like to play a little at first, though, I like to work myself up so I’m really wet, usually, but um. You both already did that,” she chuckles breathlessly. “So now I’m just trying to draw it out, so I’ll slip down, go inside, and kind of spread my fingers, and move back out. And I’m- mm! - I’m grinding up against my hand, so I’m getting both…”  she rolls her hips a few times with a gasp, “-both sensations. Which I like, when I don’t have- unf!- any toys. But when I’m with someone else, I like their fingers in me, and their mouth on my clit. Or sometimes, vice versa, with their tongue in me and their fingers rubbing me.”

“The way Mira did earlier,” Rumi clarifies.

Zoey’s eyes have slipped closed, but she can feel Rumi move closer, broad shoulders pushing her legs further apart. Mira’s arms are wrapped around her comfortingly. “Yeah, just like that,” Zoey agrees.

“Okay. I can touch you?”

Zoey snorts. “I’m pretty sure if you don’t, you’re gonna miss your chance.”

Rumi evidently doesn’t like the sound of that, and her hand traces a burning trail up the inside of Zoey’s thigh, and it’s not just that she feels the touch more , it’s that Rumi seems to literally operate as a human furnace. Her rough-calloused thumb strokes carefully over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the texture and sheer shocking heat of it almost has Zoey jackknifing off the bed with a moan, though Rumi and Mira are quick to pin her hips down again.

“Bad?” Rumi asks hesitantly.

“Fuck no, I just- you’re warm ,” Zoey pants, gripping Mira’s thigh for dear life.

“Dude, try sleeping next to her,” Mira grumbles, though it’s fond.

“Planning to,” Zoey grumbles, trying to roll her hips back up to seek out more sensation, more heat, more of Rumi. “Keep going, it’s fine, it’s good, please, touch me.”

Rumi strokes over her clit again, more pressure this time, and does a hard circle like she’d seen Zoey do moments before. 

“Like that, yeah, just like that,” Zoey sighs contentedly, easing the iron grip she’d had on Mira, massaging over it in apology. “Smaller circles, if- yeah, yeah, perfect. God you’re perfect.”

And then, Rumi licks her, a bit clumsy but eager, tongue sweeping through her folds and down into her, and she hums, the vibrations shooting a different kind of heat through Zoey. She reaches Zoey’s clit and sucks.

It feels like she just set Zoey on fire.

“Holy shit!” she yelps, canting her hips up into Rumi’s mouth as much as she can. 

Rumi pulls away, and Zoey forces her eyes open to look down at her. She looks sheepish. “Sorry, I just really wanted to taste you, you smell so good, couldn’t help it.” She nuzzles at Zoey’s center, open-mouthed, not seeming to care that she’s making a mess of herself as she does. She meets Zoey’s eye and licks her lips. “You taste so good, Zoey. I wanna keep-”

“Yes! Yes, please, do whatever you want,” Zoey chokes out. “I don’t care, whatever it is, just keep touching me.”

Rumi grins, lopsided and brimming with newfound confidence as she leans in once more, hot hot tongue working her over thoroughly

The sounds coming from both of them- all of them, really - are obscene, a low hum from Rumi, Zoey squeaking and chasing a breath, the wet sucking squelch as Rumi eats Zoey like a meal, a sharp breath from Mira…

Rumi twitches and flutters her tongue inside her, and Zoey honest to god screams.

Rumi pulls away again, looking terrified. “Did I hurt you??”

“Oh, fuck, do that again,” Mira rasps. “Whatever that was, do it again. She loved it.”

Rumi hums in acknowledgement, repeating the move, the hot, wet, slip and glide of muscle inside her almost sending Zoey off the deep end.

“Fuck! God you’re so good, you’ve- ah! - that's insane, where did you learn to do that with your tongue?” She’s starting to see spots of white in her vision again. “I’m so close, Rumi, this is so good, you’re doing so good, making me feel so good… ”

Rumi groans, long and loud, and does the fluttery thing again, and Mira has the presence of mind to cover Zoey’s mouth as she sobs through the orgasm, tears leaking from her eyes. She shudders through the aftershocks and flops bonelessly backward.

She’s aware that Rumi’s still going strong, seeming determined to continue forever, but she’s too tired to move. Thankfully, Mira pushes gently against her head. “Dude, stop. You’re gonna kill her,” she chuckles.

Rumi pulls away, looking like someone’s just told her she’s grounded from a new favorite toy.

“She’s tapped out, gotta stop, she’s gonna get too sensitive and sore,” Mira explains kindly. She ducks forward and swipes her thumb over Rumi’s mouth and chin. “Messy eater, huh?”

“She slurped me like I was noodles,” Zoey agrees, dazed as she is, pointing a finger in wobbly accusation in the direction of the three Rumis sprawled between her legs.

“I saw, it was very hot,” Mira hushes, scooping Zoey’s hand up and kissing the knuckles a few times before holding the hand against her chest for safekeeping. “Seriously, what were you doing to her?”

Rumi flushes a brilliant pink. “Oh, um, she said she liked for the fingers or tongue to move around when they’re in her, so I did some tongue trills because I figured...”

Mira barks a laugh. “You did tongue trills into her? The tongue trills Celine keeps making me try? The vocal warm-up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My apologies for all the times I said those were stupid,” Mira mutters. “How’s your jaw?”

Rumi flexes it and sticks her tongue out as far as she can before flopping against Zoey’s thigh with a groan. “I thibk I thprained by tobgue?” she grumbles, lisping exaggeratedly.

Mira laughs again. “Yeah, that sounds right. You were a champ though, I definitely didn’t go that long the first time I went down on someone.”

“Yeah, A+ head, Rumi,” Zoey pants, patting at her hair absently as her soul begins to merge once more with her earthly body. “Bravo.”

Rumi doesn’t lift her head, but does shoot Mira and Zoey a thumbs up, quirking a smile as they laugh. “Worth it,” she declares.

Zoey sits up with a groan, scratching gently over Rumi’s back and shoulders, giggling as she does that happy hum again. “Rumi, gotta move, yeobo.”

“Nooo, tired,” she grumbles.

“You’re too tired to let me and Mira touch you?”

Rumi is suddenly sitting up, practically vibrating.

“She lives,” Mira drawls teasingly. “Shocker.”

Rumi pouts at her, and Zoey plants a kiss on her cheek to distract her. It works, because Zoey is soon subjected to what she’d heard Mira say earlier were Rumi’s ‘big sad moo cow eyes’. “Yes, your turn. You were so good and so patient, you did so good with me, made me feel amazing," Zoey croons, cupping Rumi’s face in her hands and guiding her to lay down beside Mira, head propped up on the pile of pillows, straddling her hips. “So now you get whatever you want.”

“How do you want us?” Mira husks, leaning over her. “Where do you want us to touch you?”

“Everywhere,” Rumi breathes, stars in her eyes as she looks up at them. “Anywhere, please?”

“Oh, baby," Zoey sighs, the English slipping out but feeling right. “Of course we’re gonna touch you. Everywhere you let us.”

“Is there anywhere you don’t want us touching you?” Mira asks, brushing a lock of hair from Rumi’s eyes.

Rumi opens her mouth, thinks, then shakes her head slowly. “I don’t… think so?”

“If we find one, or if we do something you don’t like, tell us," Mira says, voice firm. "None of this people-pleaser shit, okay? This is important.”

Rumi nods quickly. “I promise.”

“Good girl.”

Rumi’s eyes slam closed as she gasps, legs snapping together. 

“It’s like a magic trick,” Zoey whispers.

Mira rumbles a laugh and slides down next to Rumi, her entire front pressed flush to Rumi’s left side. She props herself up on bent elbow, using her free hand to drift lightly over Rumi’s torso, carefully cataloging what gets a reaction.

Zoey slips off her, following Mira’s lead and laying on Rumi’s right, though she lays so she’s eye-level with Rumi’s hips instead of her face, and traces meandering patterns across Rumi’s thighs, knees, the soft v of her smooth stomach. She hits what must be a particularly ticklish spot, giggling as Rumi jerks away from her touch. Just above her, Mira seems determined to extract every possible noise she can get Rumi to produce just playing with her nipples.

And what sounds they are.

A particularly high whine/gasp combo makes Zoey wonder about using these sounds in a mix sometime.

‘No, no, focus. Task at hand.”

Literally at hand, in fact, as Zoey skims her palm lightly up the inside of Rumi’s thigh, humming in satisfaction when she finds a not-inconsiderable amount of wetness halfway up. “Oh, for us?”

Rumi stiffens for a moment, but forces herself to relax as Mira whispers something into her ear. 

Slowly, so, so slowly, she spreads her legs wider, even lifting her hips invitingly for Zoey. 

And really, who is she to refuse?

She spreads Rumi with her thumbs, watching the slick clings snap and break apart. She dips a finger in and slips it from Rumi’s hole to her clit, gathering as much wetness as she can and rubbing a firm circle over and around the swollen, throbbing bundle of nerves.

Rumi whimpers, back arching even at such a bare touch.

Zoey sucks her finger into her mouth, savoring and sampling Rumi like she’s a sommelier. She tastes… wild, is the only way Zoey can think to describe it. Musk and salt and something almost feral . It’s good, though she has no idea what that taste is. She sweeps her fingers through her again and offers them to Mira. “Taste.”

Mira leans over and sucks Zoey’s fingers clean without hesitation. She hums thoughtfully. “That’s a new one,” she mumbles, tip of her tongue darting out to lick away any leftovers on her lips.”

“Yeah. I kinda dig it, though,” Zoey whispers.

“Same.” Mira presses gently against Rumi’s abdomen, her large hand spanning from belly button to hipbone, and Rumi groans. “I don’t think she’s gonna last long.”

“God, no. We’re the hottest women on the island and she’s never done this before. I’m surprised she didn’t already bust,” Zoey snickers, swiping her fingers through again.

“She can hear you, and she would like to cum, please,” Rumi says, voice strained.

They snort, slipping back to their previous positions. “Sorry, sorry, we’re just trying to figure out what to do with you,” Zoey says. 

“Literally anything, as long as it’s right now,” Rumi grunts.

“You got it,” Zoey assures her, and dips her finger inside, gentle and easy. Her thumb starts an exploration of Rumi’s clit, tapping, grinding, rubbing, even a delicate drag of her nail over it, and starts whittling down her best choices.

Mira is hovering over her, mouth sucking gently at one nipple while long, clever fingers tweak and tease the other.

Zoey can feel the pulling tightness, the almost reluctance as she pulls out her finger to thrust back in. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?” she asks.

Rumi whines high in her throat. “Yeah, I’m just- I need-”

“You need more?” Zoey asks. “More fingers?”

“Yeah! Yes, more fingers, please.”

Zoey complies, grinning when Rumi shudders as she takes two fingers. “Is that better?”

“Yes, yes, thank you, um, but, could you put your mouth on me?”

“Of course.” She bends and runs the flat of her tongue over Rumi. “Like that?”

“Yeah, god, yes, like that, please!” Rumi grunts.

Zoey grins against her and presses a kiss to the sensitive spot, scissoring her fingers inside of Rumi, seeking on each thrust, trying to find the-

Rumi yells and almost breaks Zoey’s nose, hips bucking wildly. Mira drops her weight onto Rumi’s torso, pinning her more fully to the bed.

“What was that?” Rumi yelps.

“I found it,” Zoey announces proudly.

“The best way to kill me??” Rumi pants. 

“Only a little death,” Mira teases, nipping at the side of her breast.

Zoey snorts. “Try not to break my face, okay? This is gonna feel crazy good, but if you have to spend the rest of the night at the hospital with me after breaking my nose it’s gonna ruin it.”

Rumi drops her head back and laughs breathlessly. “Um. I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” Zoey drops a kiss to her stomach, then another. Then maybe a bite, or two…

“Zoey, she’s about to tackle you,” Mira warns.

Zoey groans at her spoiled fun. “Fine. God forbid you tease a girl a little.” 

“A little?” Rumi argues weakly.

She slips back into Rumi with two fingers, fucking into her and humming with delight when she finds that spot again. She hooks her fingers and thrusts into it in time with the soft suction of her mouth on Rumi’s clit. The increasing pitches of Rumi’s gasps and moans have her redoubling her efforts, and finally, finally, Rumi goes taut as a bowstring, arching in the air for a few moments that feel like an eternity before snapping loose and collapsing.

“Rumi, Rumi, you gotta breathe,” Mira says, running a hand over her sternum. “Breathe, aein.”

Rumi sucks in a greedy breath, chest heaving like she just ran a marathon. She stares up at the ceiling, sweaty and sticky and positively giddy, if the huge grin on her face is anything to go by. “Fuck,” she mumbles.

“That was the idea,” Mira agrees, kissing her sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

“Y’know, I don’t know,” Rumi admits absently.

“What do you mean?” Zoey asks, the satisfaction of a job well done giving way to panic. “Are you not okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

Rumi shrugs, still studying the ceiling with blissful fascination. “I’m not hurt.”

“But you’re not okay?” Mira asks, concerned, keeping her hand firm in the middle of Rumi’s chest.

“I mean, I’m usually all. Worried about stuff. And it’s important stuff, and I should be worried about it, and I know that, but um.” She giggles. “I have no idea what that stuff is, right now.” She laughs, and a few tears leak from her eyes as she squeezes them shut. “I’ve heard people say it before, but, I think you two actually fucked my brains out.”

Mira collapses against the bed, shaking with laughter, while Zoey slowly releases all the tension that’d knotted her up, thinking something was wrong with Rumi. “Okay, well, when your brains come back, we’re gonna have a talk about the appropriate time to make jokes."

“No, I think she nailed it, actually,” Mira laughs, scrubbing her hands over her face as she curls into a ball of mirth. 

Zoey huffs and rolls her eyes without heat, rubbing a hand over Rumi’s stomach. “You’re good?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think I died for a second, but in a good way?”

“You’ll have that, sometimes,” Zoey chuckles. “It was okay, though?”

Rumi blinks up at her, startled. “Is that a real question? If I could figure out how my legs work, I’d be trying to climb on you and go again.”

Mira snorts. “You wait your turn, some of us could orgasm from a stiff breeze right now.”

Zoey laughs now, crawling over Mira as she goes prone. “Stiff breeze, huh?”

Mira shrugs, the corner of her mouth quirking as she fights a smile, crossing her arms behind her head. “I’m open to other options.”

“Good,” Zoey breathes, laying on her and claiming her mouth with a hungry kiss, groaning as those damn piercings drag over her sensitive skin. 

Mira tastes like Rumi, and Zoey, and tiny bit like the soju from earlier, and Zoey falls into her like- no, that’s not right, she doesn’t fall, falls are accidents. Zoey leaps for her like she’s jumping off a cliff, and it’s all she can do not to whoop on the way down.

Mira abandons playing it cool and wraps her arms around Zoey, one of her mile-long legs hooking up and around Zoey’s hip and dragging her down, rising up to meet her in a tortuously slow grind of her hips against Zoey’s thigh. Zoey groans aloud, rocking back into Mira, licking into her mouth eagerly before parting so she can catch her breath, kissing and nipping her way down Mira’s neck as her chest heaves.

And sure, maybe, possibly, it was strategic so that Zoey could finally get her mouth on-

“Zoey!” Mira gasps as Zoey’s tongue flicks over her nipple, thumb brushing lightly over the other. “Zoey, easy, you’re gonna make me- fuck!”

Zoey hums and sucks lightly, happy that she’s finally been given enough time to pay them their due. She pulls away with a wet pop, using her hands to continue playing and watching in fascination. “Y’know how when you’re in a museum, and they have the ‘do not touch’ signs, and then all you wanna do is touch whatever it is?” Zoey asks conversationally as Mira writhes under her, arching up into her touch as Zoey gives the barest tugging pressure to the barbell slotted between her fingers. “Like you kinda think it might drive you crazy if you don’t touch it?”

“I, um, no, I don’t wanna touch the art at museums,” Mira gasps.

“Maybe it’s just me, then.” Zoey shrugs. “Anyways, that ‘gotta touch it right now or I’ll die’ is how I’ve felt about these since I saw them on the beach.”

“Same,” Rumi offers sleepily, voice rumbling with amusement and something distinctly not amusement.

“It’s unanimous, you’re officially a work of art,” Zoey declares, grinning down at Mira, big and wide and sweet.

Like she hasn’t wedged her thigh up tight against Mira to grind against, and she isn’t currently committing nipple-based crimes against Mira’s sanity.

Mira laughs breathlessly, and Zoey ducks to suck a bruise into the side of her breast. “You’re ridiculous.”

“How embarrassing for you, you’re about to get fucked by someone ridiculous,” Zoey observes. When all she gets in response is a moan, she grins. “How do you want me?”

“Slow,” Mira breathes. “I’m, um, I’m pretty sensitive right now, it’s been a minute, and we’ve been- I’ve been fucking you two for like 2 hours. Slow.”

“I can do slow,” Zoey nods, before grinning wickedly. “But it’s not gonna help you last, sweetheart."

Mira groans at the familiar English endearment, tipping her head back and rolling up into Zoey invitingly. “All I’m hearing is a lot of talk, so far.”

“You don’t like me talking?” Zoey asks innocently, sucking a kiss onto the middle of her throat. “But you wanted me to talk a little while ago?”

Beside them, Rumi manages an undignified snort.

“Are you seriously -”

“ Actually ,” Zoey continues, scrunching up her face as though she’s thinking deeply. “I thought we were supposed to be teaching, right now?”

Mira lifts her head to stare Zoey down, eyes narrowed. “What?”

“We’re supposed to be teaching, so I need you to tell her what you like,” Zoey says, batting her lashes and smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, dropping a chaste kiss to Mira’s breastbone. “She needs to hear what I’m doing so she can do it too.”

A silent battle of wills begins, Zoey smiling at Mira, Mira looking as though she’s moments from strangling Zoey, and Rumi watching, her wide eyes flicking back and forth as though she were watching a tennis match.

It goes on, and on, and just when Zoey thinks that maybe she’d pushed too hard and too far and lost the opportunity that this actual goddess has presented to her, Mira lets out a shuddering breath and chuckles.

“You're lucky you're hot, or I'd flip you over and make you beg for the rest of the night.”

“And that would also be a win for me,” Zoey tells her smugly, planting a kiss between her crinkled brows. “Joke’s on you.”

“Seconded,” Rumi agrees, stretching and moving her legs a bit experimentally as she seems to start regaining control of her extremities.

Zoey winks exaggeratedly at her and grins down at her (very) willing captive. “So Mira, if you wanna get off, you should tell us what you want.” She leans in and kisses her, slow and heady and steam-driven before pulling back. “We just wanna make you happy. Make you feel good. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

"That," Mira starts, interrupted as Zoey once again ducks in to kiss her, “is cheating.”

But the dry, unamused tone is spoiled, somewhat, by the way she’s visibly fighting to not laugh.

“Too bad.” Zoey slowly starts to slip down Mira’s body, leaving a lazy, meandering trail of teasing kisses and nips in her wake. And, okay, she maybe lingers a good while on the piercings again, but a) who wouldn’t, given the opportunity, and b) Mira doesn’t seem to mind, judging by the steady stream of groans and whines is any indicator.

Zoey pulls away, tipping her head as she looks up at Mira. “Talk to us, tell her what I’m doing.”

Mira’s eyes dart over to Rumi, who’s watching with rapt attention, but her mouth remains stubbornly shut.

“Aw, so shy, all of a sudden,” Zoey teases. She follows the flush back up Mira’s body and drops a string of kisses to her high cheekbones. “Are you embarrassed to tell her how good that feels, when I’ve barely even touched you? She already knows, I already had her under me, Mira.”

That gets a reaction, Mira lets out a gasp and rolls up into Zoey’s thigh, eyes dropping shut and brows knitting together. Her nails dig into Zoey’s shoulders, and she bites her lip, hard. “Zoey…”

“Tell her.” Zoey eggs her on, breath hot in Mira’s ear as she flexes her thigh and grinds it up against Mira for a brief second before pulling away. “Tell her how good that feels. Tell her how close you are to falling apart. Tell her how it feels.” She licks out at a bead of sweat on Mira’s sharp jaw.

Finally, Mira cracks. “Fuck! God, this is ridiculous, how are you doing that? You’re making me crazy.”

Zoey grins. “Good. Thank you.”

“You’re evil,” Mira grumbles as Zoey slips back down.

“Keep talking, aein.” Zoey returns to her slow teasing, slowly working her way down Mira’s body. “We were right, by the way, you are a work of art.”

“Absolutely,” Rumi breathes, shifting closer. She extends a hand slightly before pulling it back. “Um, can I…?”

“Can you what?” Zoey asks sweetly, nipping a bit harder when Mira starts to protest at her stopping her progress yet again. “You did say you wanted it slow.”

“I said ‘go slow’, not ‘edge me!’” Mira snaps.

“That’s your fault for not doing what you said you would,” Zoey reminds her. She returns her attention to Rumi. “Can you what, Rumi?”

“Can I touch too?”

Zoey shrugs. “Gotta ask Mira.”

“Can I touch you too, please?” Rumi asks, without a beat of hesitation. “I’ve wanted to touch you for weeks, Mira. Please?”

“I think she’s a hands-on learner,” Zoey mock-whispers, drawing a snort from both of them.

“Yes, touch me,” Mira says, and Rumi darts forward and licks eagerly into her mouth, one hand cupping Mira’s cheek, the other slowly moving toward her chest.

Zoey continues, licking into Mira’s navel and grinning when Mira actually giggles and squirms away. “Cute,” she whispers against her stomach as it clenches, and lands an extra-sloppy kiss to the firm line of muscle between abdominals and pelvis before pulling away to look at Mira. “What would make you feel good?”

“I want you to go down on me,” Mira pants, pulling away from Rumi, chest heaving. “Now.”

And damn if that weak little bit of command in her voice doesn’t do something for Zoey. “As you wish,” she says softly, nuzzling her face over the spot and placing another reverent kiss there.

Rumi, quick learner that she is, passes Zoey a pillow without being asked. She cocks a brow, making sure she’d understood correctly and smiles her goofy, crooked smile when Zoey winks at her.

Zoey taps Mira’s hip to get her to lift and slides the pillow under when she does. She settles between her legs, wiggling under and then up so Mira’s legs are slung over her shoulders, and Mira frees one of her hands and threads her fingers through Zoey’s still-damp hair- no pressure, no tugging, simply scratching lightly over Zoey’s scalp. This close to her legs, it’s even more apparently that Mira must be a dancer, and a dedicated one at that, the lean cords of muscle bunching and shifting gracefully as she shifts to get comfortable.

It occurs to Zoey that if those long, long legs were to lock around her head, it’s entirely possible that her head would explode like a watermelon in the same circumstances.

‘But what a way to go,’ she thinks dizzily, kissing up the inside of Mira’s thighs, sweat and that spicy soap and the tang of Mira heavy on her tongue as she licks out at the copious slick arousal coating her there. Mira cants her hips up a bit, and Zoey presses a chaste kiss to her sex.

“Zoey, c’mon…”

“You wanted me to go slow,” Zoey reminds her, voice soft but firm. She licks out delicately at Mira’s folds, fighting a grin as the fingers in her hair tighten. “Be patient.”

Mira remains tense for a few beats before relaxing back down. “You’re gonna kill me,” she laughs, though it sounds more like a moan.

“Sounds familiar,” Rumi grumbles.

Zoey grins. “Only a little death.”

She parts Mira and licks up through her before she can respond, sucking a gentle kiss to her clit, slinging an arm over Mira’s hips as they buck. “Too much?” she asks softly. “If you’re overstimulated, we can take a break…?”

“God no.” Mira sucks in a breath. “No, no, ‘s good. Keep going.”

Zoey nods. “Just let me know.”

She goes back, doing as much as she can to go slow, to be light, fighting every instinct to bury herself in Mira, every need to touch and taste and take, knowing that it’d be too much for her to handle right now.

It really doesn't help that Mira's definitely doing what Zoey told her to, telling Rumi in excruciating, graphic detail exactly what Zoey’s doing with her tongue. Zoey can’t catch much of it, positioned as she is, but she can hear brief snippets, or snippets of snippets, really, and the pleasant hum of Mira’s low voice slips down her spine like warm water.

Zoey would like to think to herself that there’ll be time later, another time where she can satisfy the urge to dive, to really let loose with both of them, but honestly, she doesn’t know. So she’ll give Mira exactly what she asks for ("God this is torture, fuck,” and “Easy, Zoey” and “That’s so good, right there, just like tha-Ah!”), murmuring encouragement into her and scratching lightly over her hips when they start to shift with the ebb and flow of Zoey’s tongue, responding as best she can to every tightened grip and breathy moan. She slips her tongue inside, attempting the trill that'd been so effective on her earlier, equal parts sad and relieved when it finally sends Mira over the edge, warm wetness dribbling down her chin and onto her neck and chest.

Mira's legs do snap tight over Zoey’s ears, and the pressure is insane, and Zoey very briefly considers that perhaps a hand would've been better, for medical reasons such as not dying, but also, once again, what a way to go.

Fortunately, Rumi notes Zoey’s increasingly insistent tapping on Mira’s hip and manages to coax her legs open, stifling a laugh when Zoey sucks in a grateful lungful of air. “You okay?”

“Local lifeguard drowns in a hotel room in freaky sex accident,” Zoey pants, forehead resting in the crease of hip and thigh. “More at 11.”

Rumi snorks, nose and eyes crinkling. “Don’t you mean a freak sex accident?”

“I do not.”

This gets Rumi and Mira laughing, bouncing Zoey’s head as her body shakes with mirth. 

When Mira’s eyes meet Zoey's, she smiles down at her, soft and fond. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Zoey says, just as soft, just as fond.

“C’mere,” Mira says, crooking a finger at her.

And who is Zoey to argue?

She climbs back up Mira’s body and settles on top of her, tucking her head under Mira’s chin and burrowing in.

“You can’t sleep there,” Mira grumbles, smoothing hair away from her sweaty forehead and placing a kiss there.

“Warm,” Zoey says sleepily, even as she shifts so she’s wedged in between Mira and Rumi.

Rumi hums happily, curling around her, still seemingly operating at a temperature that would hospitalize someone else. “Yay. Mira says it's too hot to cuddle with me.”

“It was double entendre, babo,” Mira mumbles, rolling onto her side to throw an arm and a leg across them and sighing with deep contentment. “You’re a furnace, and also very, very hot.”

“Seconded,” Zoey says, feeling moments from sleep. “Latched onto me like a sexy barnacle.”

“Nooo, barnacles are gross. I'm a turtle shell.”

Zoey hums, eyes slipping closed.

And, very suddenly, they fly open as Zoey sits completely upright in bed. “Oh crap!”

“Whoah!” “Dude!”

She jerks her wrist free and checks her watch.

4:37 AM.

“Oh, crap, crap, crap,” she mutters, scrambling out of bed, ignoring their protests. “Where's my, god, I'm gonna be late!”

“There’s no way you have to work," Mira says, sitting up. “It’s still dark out, surely no one's stupid enough to swim in the dark.”

“Um…?”

“Without bringing their own personal lifeguard,” Mira says, waving Rumi's argument away impatiently. “Who goes to the beach this- Zoey, slow down!”

“No, no, it's not for work, it's- I mean it kinda is, but not really, it's for school, for my mentor, but I have to get to the east beach in like, fuck, 15 minutes. Where are my pants?!”

“They’re in the bathroom- you're seriously leaving? You haven't even slept yet,” Rumi argues.

“God, please don't remind me- aha!” She steps into her shorts and jumps, tugging them up to hang low on her hips and tying a hasty knot to keep them there. “No, trust me, trust me, literally nothing else could make me leave right now.”

Mira eyes her, expression tight. “Sure. Do you want us to call Yi-Joon?”

Zoey sighs as she checks her watch again. “Normally no, but right now? Yes please.”

“Sure.”

Zoey struggles back into her top. “Thank you, you're a lifesaver.”

“No, that's still you,” Rumi jokes, looking a bit melancholy as she curls into herself, arms crossed over her knees.

Zoey huffs a laugh. “Yeah, yeah.” She finally gets her top back on and shrugs into her shirt, stopping in front of a mirror to try to wrangle her hair into something remotely resembling respectable. “This is the most insane sex hair of all time.”

“More orgasms, more problems,” Mira drawls, settling back on the bed, long legs folded in front of her. “Yi-Joon should be out front to take you.”

“You're the best,” Zoey breathes, ducking forward to give them both a lingering kiss. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Least we could do,” Mira says. She hesitates. “Zoey?”

She's halfway to the door and spins, heart in her throat. “Yeah?”

Mira studies her, looking like she’s mapping her face, her body, and sighs. “Nothing. Um. Thank you, for tonight. This was-”

“Magic,” Rumi murmurs.

Zoey freezes, an idea forming. She chances a small smile. “So, what would you both think about seeing a little bit more magic tonight, and coming with me?”

Zoey’s fully prepared to beg and wheedle and plead her case. She is not prepared for them to almost fall out of bed and scoop her up in their arms, squishing her between them.

“Oh thank god.” “ Yes. Never do that again, that was so mean.”

All Zoey can do is laugh.

Zoey arrives in time, tagging out her classmate who gives her an odd look but retires to his dorm gratefully nonetheless after giving her a brief rundown of the night's exciting happenings. She settles down onto the sand a short distance from the flags and barricades, dragging Rumi and Mira down with her.

“Why are we here?” Mira asks after nearly an hour, when the first touches of pink and purple stain the horizon, tucking closer to Zoey's side as she shivers.

Zoey loops her arm ‘round her waist and buffs her hand briskly over her arm and back. “We're waiting.”

“For what?” Rumi asks.

“Magic.” Zoey notes the sand beside the flag shifting slightly, and her smile widens. “It won't be long.”

“Well at least the magic is timely,” Mira grumbles. “Be rude if the magic was late, like, after we got some sleep.”

“Heaven forbid,” Rumi agrees. “Imagine if we had time to eat and sleep. Madness.”

“Shh,” Zoey giggles, shoving Rumi lightly and butting her head against Mira's shoulder. “Just wait.”

“Zoey, I swear, if you brought us out here to do something sappy like watch the sunrise…”

“Oh it's sappy, but it's not that. Well,” she amends, “not only that, this is the best beach to do that…”

“Zoey.”

“Mira,” Rumi says, sounding awed. “Look.”

A few feet away, a tiny, floppy shape emerges from the sand.

Mira squints behind her glasses before her eyes widen. “That’s-”

“Caretta caretta,” Zoey says, pride in her voice as another tiny creature flails its way to the surface. “Loggerhead sea turtle.”

“Oh, wow .”

Zoey rolls to her feet and walks lightly to the barricade, ducking under it. She grins as the tiny turtle hatchlings move by, driven forward by instinct. “I'm making sure none of them go the wrong way,” she explains as Mira and Rumi creep up behind her. “They get disoriented sometimes.”

Rumi's eyes are huge, and she walks alongside the barricade, a silent escort for the tiny creatures as they make their way to the sea.

“I need to call my mentor,” Zoey says, grinning hugely as she watches two, then three more turtles surface. She fishes her phone out of her pocket, doing her best not to bounce up and down in her excitement. “He's relieving me in 3 hours, but he's had his ringer on for days waiting for this call.” One of the little guys makes a bee-line for Mira, and Zoey traps her phone between her ear and shoulder as the line rings. “Block him,” she says quietly. “Make a wall with some sand, or block him with your foot or hand, but don't pick him up. It's important that they get to the water themselves.”

Mira nods, dropping carefully to the sand and using her hands to make a wall so the hatchling can't continue in its misguided path. The little thing butts up against her hands and makes an abrupt 180° turn, scooting back toward its nest and hatch mates.

“Yes, perfect, Mira, that's- Professor! Hello, It’s Zoey Choi. Yes, I'm sorry to disturb you so early, but-” 

“Are they hatching?”

“Yes, sir,” Zoey laughs. “About 10 so far.”

“I'll be there in 15 minutes. Notify the-”

“Lifeguard captains,” Zoey finishes. “Already on it, Professor.”

“This is why you're my favorite, Miss Choi.”

Zoey laughs again, watching as Rumi shuffles up and down the beach, whispering encouragement to the turtles. “I have a couple of friends with me, but I wouldn't mind if you called some of the other students in-”

“I'll call in my fellows, don't worry.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she says, watching as Mira and Rumi scramble around outside the barricade with careful enthusiasm. “I um. I have something I have to do today.”

“Absolutely, you've earned a break, after volunteering for every nest spotting all season.”

“Thanks again.” She disconnects the call and shoots a text to her boss to let him know that the east beach has to be closed for the day before joining Mira and Rumi.

Rumi is ecstatic, grin so wide it nearly splits her face as she peppers Zoey with questions about the baby turtles.

Mira is oddly quiet, and when Rumi dashes back up the beach to escort the newest batch to the water, she turns to Zoey, eyes big and watery.

“Oh, no, hey, c'mere! What's wrong?” Zoey says, wrapping her in a hug as best she can.

“They're so little and cute,” Mira sniffles. “And they go right into the ocean, all helpless, and things eat them. It’s dumb, I hate it.”

Zoey can relate, has had this exact breakdown at least 6 times herself, and so she just crushes Mira closer. “I know. But we're helping them get the chance to live, y'know? We're helping to give them their best chance. And that's pretty cool, I think.”

Mira takes a shuddering breath and relaxes into Zoey's embrace. “It is. I've never- it's amazing, Zoey. Thank you for showing us.”

“I'll show you anything you'll let me,” Zoey says quietly. She opens her eyes and grins. “And speaking of amazing… turn around.”

Mira spins in Zoey’s arms, resting her hands over the ones now splayed across her stomach, and chuckles helplessly. 

It's the most beautiful sunrise she's ever seen.

“Sappy,” she admonished lightly, nothing but warmth in her voice.

“It worked well enough to land the two hottest women I've ever seen. I make no apologies for art, Mira,” Zoey says primly, grinning against her shoulder as Mira shakes with laughter.

Rumi barrels into them, snuggling up against Zoey’s back. “Oh, wow, that's beautiful.”

Zoey tips her head back to admire Rumi's sharp profile, grinning when Rumi notices her looking and tries to wink at her, though it ends up being more of a stressful-looking blink. What a dork. “ Yeah. Sure is.”

Hours later, after a quick nap, a fresh shower, and a light breakfast back at the hotel, the three make their way to the space where Rumi and Mira will be holding their interviews. When the car rolls to a stop outside a sleek, modern performing arts center, Zoey’s not ready to say goodbye, still.

But she knows that eventually they'll go their separate ways, and steels herself to sever whatever this strange, thrumming connection is that flows between them. 

“So, this is it,” she says, willing herself to sound chipper. “I really hope you find the right person at your interviews.”

Rumi and Mira gawk at her with varying degrees of fascination and disbelief. 

Finally, Mira snaps out of it, shaking her head firmly. “No. Nope. We're not doing this again.” She grabs Zoey and fairly drags her out of the car.

“What?”

“You're so cute, Zoey,” Rumi sighs. “We already found our third partner. Yesterday. At the beach.”

Zoey wracks her brain, but can't seem to recall them talking to anyone at the beach. “Oh, um. Are they meeting you here?”

“They rode here with us,” Mira says firmly.

“But-”

“Zoey, I know you feel it,” Mira says, brushing aside a stray lock of hair. “This pull, I know we all feel it.”

“That’s what we were looking for,” Rumi explains, resting a hand lightly over Zoey’s heart. “We were looking for the person on the other end of it.”

“It’s how she and Celine found me,” Mira shrugs. “I showed up to a dance showcase and boom.”

“Boom,” Rumi agrees, gazing at Mira with tenderness.

“So, why-”

“We still have to convince the boss,” Mira says. “It'll help that you perform already.”

“But, the- my school-”

“You're done in the spring, right?”

“Yeah?”

“We can stay until you finish,” Rumi assures her hastily, pulling the other two through the doors with her. “It'd be good to stay out of the city anyways, while we train.”

“Whoa, whoa, train for what?” Zoey asks. “I'm not saying no, but can you please explain what's going on?”

She can feel dozens of eyes on her as they almost jog through the crowded lobby.

“So our start-up isn't the kind you thought,” Mira offers, leading them to a side door. “It’s a new girl group.”

“Wait, girl group as in… a music group?” Zoey can feel her heart skip a beat as she's led through yet another door. “Seriously? You have to be so honest with me, right now.”

“Yes, a music group,” Mira laughs.

“A trio,” a new voice says.

Wait.

Zoey knows that voice. Has listened to countless hours of records sung by that voice, watched hundreds of interviews, even watched old commercials featuring-

“You- you're Celine Kang,” she breathes, gaping up at the Celine Kang, of The Sunlight Sisters.

Celine lifts a brow. “She’s… observant.”

“Celine, this is Zoey Choi,” Rumi says, and-

“Oh my god, you're that Rumi?” Zoey almost yells. “Pop legacy Rumi??’

Behind her, Mira snorts.

Rumi flushes, but presses on. “This is Zoey Choi, she um. She's on the other end of the- our - tether.”

Celine's eyes narrowed slightly, and she circles Zoey thoughtfully. “You're sure?”

Zoey’s never felt so much like prey. “I um, I don’t-”

“Not you,” Celine interrupts, not unkindly. She turns to Rumi. “You're sure she's the one?”

Rumi nods. “Absolutely.”

“Mm. Well, she's pretty-”

Zoey fights to maintain her footing and not simply pass away at Celine Kang calling her pretty.

“-in good shape, good sense of style.”

Zoey is suddenly very aware that she's actually wearing some of Mira’s clothes.

Celine stops in front of her. “Can you dance?”

“Uh, I um. I danced a little when I was a kid, and I like… to dance…?”

“Can you sing?”

“She raps,” Rumi says, doing her cute two-eyed wink again. “She’s won competitions. Writes her own songs, too.”

Celine seems intrigued now. “That could work, rap is getting more and more popular to incorporate in groups. It'd be more… modern than I intended, but that's not necessarily a bad thing…”

She seems to look through Zoey for a few moments, and finally smiles at something. “Yes, she's definitely your third. Excellent job, you two.”

Rumi nods. “Thank you, Celine. The only thing is, she’s in college right now, and she has to stay here until the spring- it's important to her.”

Celine sighs. “Unfortunate, but I suppose staying on Jeju for a few months could work. We need to get her into training, after all. Can't have her going out like this.”

Zoey’s going to pass out. “What's happening?”

Celine turns back to her with a faint smile. “Congratulations,  Zoey. You're the newest member of HUNTR/X.”