Chapter Text
Soyeon never used to think of herself as a huge romantic. The universe clearly had nothing in the cards for her either, putting her into the world without a soul mark.
Being soulmate-less as an immature kid made her feel special, like it was something to brag about. Her classmates at school thought their marks were lame and embarrassing too. She was the cool one.
Going into middle school, however, popular perception of soulmates shifted. That was hard to accept; how come nobody sees all the problems, the risks? Sixth grader Soyeon would think, sure, knowing your soulmate’s first words to you sounds marvelous at face value, but there are so many flaws to the system hidden in plain sight!
Such as: What if your soulmate ends up hating you, or vice versa? What happens to someone with a soul mark too basic, like a simple hello? What about people who don’t communicate orally? How do you differentiate between having a nonverbal soulmate and no soulmate?
In hindsight, her disdain clearly stemmed from envy.
Her parents used to tell her soul marks could appear with time, in rare but known cases. When she’d complain and lie childishly about not wanting a soulmate ever, they’d say maturity would change her views. Thaw her ice-cold indifference and warm her heart up to the concept of having a destined partner, the idea that she was fated to be the love of somebody’s life.
Her?
Of course, they had been right.
Fast forward nearly two decades, Soyeon has long since accepted that maybe, just maybe, she would like to know how it feels to have a soulmate. But there’s a time and place for everything, and waking up to a soul mark on her body at two in the morning, on the first day after comeback promotions, is not how Soyeon would’ve preferred for this to go.
Because she'd just barely managed to drift off before an indescribable, stinging pain so rudely interrupted her. Because the alarmed hiss she lets out rouses Yuqi from her own slumber.
Because Soyeon’s bedroom is dimly lit, but not so dark as to obscure the phrase inscribed on the underside of her left arm— five words, i think you’re my soulmate. A phrase she’s heard a disgusting amount of times from random people throughout her idol career.
And worst of all, because she can’t, try as she might, remember Song Yuqi’s first words to her.
“What's going on,” Yuqi mumbles drowsily. It feels subconscious, how she re-fastens her hold around Soyeon's waist, pulling the smaller woman closer into the shrimp-like curve of her midriff. Yuqi needs to be reminded more often how terrible sleeping like that is for her posture.
“Nothing,” Soyeon whispers, hoping nothing incriminating makes it into her tone. “Go back to sleep.”
“I think you’re lying,” Yuqi accuses in a light voice.
“I’m not.” A puff of breath lands hot on the side of her neck, and Soyeon shudders when Yuqi licks once at the same spot. She’s rather bad at pretending she doesn’t like it, but that doesn’t stop her from trying. Yuqi doesn’t deserve to have that satisfaction handed to her on a silver platter. “I’m really not,” she repeats. “Nothing happened.”
Yuqi whines, a childish edge to her voice that only really comes out when they're together. “Last time you said that, you left to sleep on the sofa.”
She leaves out how she'd been kicking Soyeon under the covers on the night it happened, like every time the incident is brought up. There's no point in bickering about it though, so Soyeon just closes her eyes and shifts slightly to hide her arm out of sight.
But silence never cuts it, not around Yuqi. In moments, Soyeon’s being flipped over by strong arms like she weighs nothing.
“Jeon Soyeon.” Facing each other now, Yuqi slips her knee between Soyeon's legs. Undoubtedly feeling the residual wetness gathered there from earlier. “If something's wrong, if you want something— whatever— just say it. You can tell me anything, you know? I'm trustworthy.”
Barely thinking the words over, Soyeon cranes her neck and kisses Yuqi hard. As a distraction from the soul mark Yuqi might've seen had she been paying closer attention. Because trust isn't the issue here.
Soyeon knows with great certainty that Yuqi would keep her secrets. Yuqi's kept this a secret for years, by some miracle. It's just… time and place.
What’s more, a few words on her skin could break Yuqi's heart in a way none of her various past rejections ever have. To reveal such a monumental thing now, when they’re ass naked in the dead of night… that doesn’t feel appropriate.
They’re still kissing when Yuqi goes a step further, pressing her knee higher up in a clunky motion to create friction. It wouldn’t be so bad for Yuqi to make her come once more tonight, Soyeon thinks, if only to drive away these unproductive worries she can’t voice.
She starts to feel herself getting wet again, moaning unrestrained into Yuqi’s mouth. She rolls her hips pathetically, does it again and again, faster. She wonders how Yuqi can admit so easily to thinking of her as any more than a quick fuck when that’s all they really are to each other.
She also wonders, briefly, if Yuqi would fall out of love with her if she were to find out.
“One more?” Yuqi asks when they separate. Her tongue darts out to cut the string of saliva that hangs precariously between them, swiping along the bottom of Soyeon’s lip due to how close they are.
One more it is. Or two, or three— whatever keeps her occupied in the moment.
Upon being given a nod, Yuqi beams. Full of sunshine and so very distracted. She’s the most agreeable during sex— it’s kind of endearing. How she bends over backwards to fulfill any demand Soyeon makes, how that's simply the way they work.
“I want to be on top this time,” Soyeon says quietly. She covers Yuqi’s eyes with one hand before nudging the younger woman onto her back and climbing on top, knees settling on the mattress at either side of Yuqi’s waist. “You don’t get to watch.”
Yuqi makes a breathy sound of complaint, then mumbles, “That doesn’t sound very fair,” yet she makes no attempt to fight back. Soyeon even feels her eyes closing voluntarily, lashes tickling her palm.
“Just feel me, hm? It’ll be good, I promise.” A small shiver runs through her body now that the blanket has slid off her shoulders, making the heat emitting from Yuqi all the more inviting. She can’t position herself any lower down while still obstructing Yuqi’s vision; this will do.
She lowers herself abruptly onto Yuqi’s stomach, feeling the muscles there tense pleasurably. Yuqi herself moans in surprise, clawing up handfuls of the bedsheets.
“You can touch me, if you want,” Soyeon murmurs through a drawn-out breath. She rocks back and forth once, feeling the adorable swell of Yuqi’s lower abdomen beneath her throbbing wetness. Then Yuqi reaches up, spurred on by the newly given permission, and nearly knocks her off balance with eagerness. Her hands are blindly feeling up Soyeon’s body.
Those exploratory hands take hold of her breasts before latching onto her nipples, pinching and twisting until Soyeon can’t stop herself from whimpering sensitively. “Yuqi-yah… not that much.”
All that seems to do is reinvigorate some cheekier part of Yuqi, inadvertently urging her on. “I’m touching you how I want to,” she says, smirking. “After all, you’re doing whatever you want, right? Humping my tummy and everything. Couldn’t go any lower?” In the meantime, she’s tightening her muscles in time with Soyeon’s every movement.
“Quiet,” Soyeon mutters— or tries to. It’s hard to keep her voice in check when she’s this embarrassingly close, having already coated Yuqi’s skin with her arousal. She has it in her somewhere to feel ashamed by the filthiness of it all, how she almost doesn’t want to come if it means Yuqi will keep touching her like this.
“Then let me see you.” Yuqi speaks smugly, like she’s negotiating a deal. “I bet you look so pretty right now, unnie.”
Rarely does Yuqi use honorifics with her, and while Soyeon isn’t huge about them, having one thrown in so casually in this setting has her blushing down to the collarbones despite herself. “Don’t push it.”
She feels as though she’s bordering on oversensitivity now, despite slowing her grinding to fend off the impending orgasm. Her chest feels terribly raw at the mercy of Yuqi’s busy hands, and a particularly harsh flick against one nipple has her practically doubling over in pleasure. Her hand over Yuqi’s eyes slips imperceptibly. “I’m really… really going to come,” she warns, garbling every word.
Yuqi pays her no mind, continuing to work her up to the peak. Doesn’t she want this to last longer? It’s been, what— a couple of minutes?
Soyeon doesn’t think she could take another round if she tried. She rolls her hips one more time, choking around a moan when her clit rubs against Yuqi’s abs, and decides she doesn’t have the strength to keep going.
So instead she glances down as Yuqi finishes the job for her. Straight into open eyes peeking through the gaps between her fingers, tracking every tremble in her shoulders with such reverence she feels breathless, suffocating on a euphoric high.
“Let go for me,” Yuqi breathes. Still playing with one of Soyeon’s nipples, abandoning the other to grab at her hips and guide them back and forth. “Don’t you want it? It’s okay to say you do.”
Through jumbled thoughts, Soyeon can barely make out anything of substance. “Please,” she moans, moving along weakly to the rhythm set for her. There’s no use in fighting the pleasure anymore, and it builds up unchecked, nurtured by Yuqi’s touch.
She can’t break away from Yuqi’s gaze, the soft look in the younger woman’s eyes that sends wave after wave of overwhelming desire straight to her core. The area around her soul mark aches inexplicably— a reminder of its existence, and while she doesn’t think Yuqi can actually see it…
“Why won’t you let me look?” Yuqi whines. Completely blinded again, her thumb strays from its path around the areola, pressing down painfully hard on a straining nipple. It’s all so good.
A high-pitched mewl bursts from Soyeon’s throat. “Fuck, Yuqi… you see me all the time.” She makes a weak point, that much is clear, but it’s honestly a feat for her to be thinking with her head at all when every instinct-driven part of her wants to hump Yuqi’s stomach without a care in the world.
“It’s not enough.” Yuqi frowns childishly. The defiant glint in her eyes that usually accompanies that look is obscured, but Soyeon can picture it out. They’ve had a million variations of this same argument before. “Practices don’t count. I want to look at every part of you, be alone with you. Or maybe… if you would kiss me around the others—”
“I can’t do that,” Soyeon interjects, her voice breathy from exertion. Especially not anymore.
Yuqi counters, “Sure you can, the members wouldn’t judge. Don’t you ever think about it?” And then she tugs sharply on Soyeon’s nipple, sending her careening over with a filthy wail. Soyeon just barely throws her arms out to catch herself as Yuqi hums in satisfaction and says, “I think about it every day.”
With her elbows braced against her own pillow, Yuqi’s face in the crook of her neck, and that insistent grip still guiding the rocking motions of her hips, Soyeon thinks there’s just about nothing more shameful in the world than this. Except for maybe admitting that she does think about kissing Yuqi, admitting that she thinks about it subconsciously, and far more often than she should.
Because the truth is that Soyeon hasn't felt interested in kissing anyone else, not since her first time with Yuqi years ago, when they were the only two Cube trainees bearing no soul marks, outcast and curious. Years later, Yuqi’s still the only person who knows exactly how she likes being touched. Or she just likes whatever Yuqi gives her.
And if Soyeon were being completely honest with herself, she wouldn’t have minded going her whole life without a soulmate if it meant having Yuqi physically. But now… now that she has a mark, and Yuqi doesn’t? What happens to them?
“I don’t see h-how that’s relevant,” she deflects, panting openly into the pillow. Her orgasm feels closer than ever.
Yuqi must sense it too, by the increasingly erratic grinding, since her answer comes in the form of going limp as a ragdoll, withholding the comfort of her touch. She’s never played fair to get what she wants.
Soyeon rocks her hips forward desperately, uselessly. “Please, Yuqi.”
“But Jeon Soyeon doesn't need me, right? Not for anything,” Yuqi adds sarcastically. Sporadic breaths settling hot on Soyeon’s skin, but not enough to turn the tide. “So feel free to get off by yourself.”
It’s like a death sentence to bring up a topic along these lines when they’re in bed. Even worse having to watch Yuqi jump to take advantage of whatever visceral, sex-driven feelings she’s drawn from Soyeon, leveraging them against her to squeeze out some sort of confession. Unproductive at best, harmful at worst when Soyeon inevitably backpedals.
Still, she caves just as easily, lifting her head painstakingly to look Yuqi in the eyes. “I want you.” Yuqi’s expression inverts under the faint light, hopefulness written all over her puppydog features, and Soyeon feels like the worst person ever. “It’s just that—”
“No buts,” Yuqi says, with the certainty of someone who has long sunk her teeth into the bloody concept of them being anything more than heavily nuanced friends with benefits.
It’s an excruciatingly difficult reality for Soyeon to come to terms with; that a girl like Yuqi— shining, explosive, loyal-to-a-fault Yuqi— had taken such a liking to her. Yuqi, who could probably charm anyone sentient and breathing regardless of fate or designated soulmates, doesn’t seem to be interested in charming anybody else. And the hardest pill to swallow, of course, is that she’s a little in love with how Yuqi makes her feel. That in and of itself is terrifying.
There’s no time to think now, however, for Yuqi closes her mouth around Soyeon’s thoroughly-teased nipple, her hands roaming free. “Say it again,” she practically pleads, sending vibrations all throughout that rush Soyeon back toward the edge at supersonic speed.
Soyeon grinds down hard, picking up the pace with Yuqi aiding her. She feels herself soaking down there, having coated Yuqi’s abdomen (and her own) with arousal. “I want you… you’re doing so good.”
Yuqi honest to God whimpers. Right into Soyeon’s sensitive skin, and it’s the final push Soyeon needs to unravel, her hips jerking as she rides the pleasure out.
As Soyeon’s head clears up, slowly stops spinning, muscle memory assumes control. Yuqi never needs much after being on the giving end; case in point now, when Soyeon rolls off limply to the side before wedging her knee between the younger woman’s legs. Automatically returning the favor.
It’s a mostly wordless endeavor— Yuqi whining softly as she thrusts her hips and eventually comes too, nothing but Soyeon’s name on her lips.
She lies facing the ceiling in the aftermath, her eyes shut as the rise and fall of her chest steadies. Soyeon makes a point of lying on her side, so her arm is hidden beneath the pillow. Still weighing her options, tell Yuqi or not.
“How was that?” Yuqi says while taking short breaths in between. She takes Soyeon’s face in her hands and kisses her, short and heartfelt.
“I don’t know,” Soyeon teases, “what do you think?”
“Good?” No matter how bashful Yuqi tries to appear, her eyes still beg for approval louder than any words could.
For a woman so brazen, Yuqi is oddly ashamed to admit she has a thing for praise, and from older women particularly. But thinking about the clips circulating online— of Yuqi smiling and blushing over rudimentary compliments at those fashion events— sours Soyeon’s mood in unspeakable ways.
So she shakes off those unpleasant thoughts, smiling fondly. “You were perfect, Yuqi-yah.”
She feels Yuqi’s fingers twitch excitedly behind her back. Her blunt nails brush feather-light against Soyeon’s skin; a relatively small reaction, tickling her a bit, but Soyeon would be lying if she said there was nothing endearing about it.
“I’m glad,” Yuqi says, kissing her shoulder. “I think you’re perfect too. We’re perfect for each other, me and you.”
“Yeah? I’m always arguing with you though.” Her words fade out a little at the end, drowsiness hanging off her eyelids, dragging them down. Yuqi can be so exuberant as a person, but there’s a comfort in her touch that balances her out, like how the blinding glare of sunrays carry with them such tender warmth.
Soyeon thinks she hears Yuqi say something like, “I like that about you,” which feels counterintuitive. But really, she’s much too tired to question it; much less when Yuqi starts rambling indistinctly about something else. Then her voice pitches up in question after a few seconds.
“Mm.” Soyeon makes a noise of agreement. She hadn’t made any words out, not really.
“You hear me?” Yuqi asks, a little clearer this time with her face out of Soyeon’s neck. She’d been nosing at the area a moment ago, and now the ends of her maroon colored hair poke at Soyeon’s cheek. “Soyeon. Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”
Soyeon hushes her softly, eyes closed but awake— just barely, and she feels herself slipping further. “Shh… listening.”
Yuqi’s voice drops back into a low rumble as she says, “I was thinking about how I wanted to take you out somewhere now that we have some time. The others are going overseas for schedules, so it’ll be just the two of us for a while.”
“Rumors,” Soyeon manages to get out. Yuqi should be familiar enough with the talk about them; groupmates, both without soul marks (allegedly), weirdly handsy even after taking fanservice into account.
The general consensus seems to be that they must be fucking, if the moderately invasive questions she gets during fancalls are anything to go by. At least she can rest assured the fanservice is working.
“Who cares what people think? And if you don’t wanna go out, well…” Yuqi trails off, sounding mischievous. “I wouldn’t mind spending a week in your bed.”
“Ew.”
Yuqi laughs, but it hardly registers in Soyeon’s mind. “I’m only half serious… As long as you’re with me, you know what I mean? …I just like you so much.” Soyeon’s pretty sure she’s only picking up bits and pieces of what’s being said now.
Scraping together the last of her strength, she kisses Yuqi lightly on the forehead. A wholly different kind of confession gets stuck in her throat, swallowed down until it lodges somewhere between her ribs painfully.
Soyeon wakes up, well into the next morning, to an empty bed.
That doesn’t stop her from feeling around at the spot beside her like someone could be hiding under the covers, lifting said covers to find Yuqi’s side still warm and sunken in. Early morning photoshoots, probably— leave it to Yuqi to be fully booked right after promotions. Soyeon sighs.
In the shower, she gets a good look at her soul mark. Small print, handwriting neater than her own in a straight line. A bandage covers it up just fine.
Still, she can’t help but wonder.
…
Soyeon’s first meeting with Yuqi would’ve been forgettable. A grossly inaccurate precursor to their interactions to come, one that hadn’t truly prepared her for the exciting, over-the-top girl Yuqi would prove herself to be.
But she remembers quite clearly; perhaps because Yuqi became so special to her, so fast.
It had been her first time practicing with the newer trainees. A room of other girls who shared a common goal with her, who all knew she had an edge on them in terms of skill and the whole being-an-idol thing. Soyeon’s reputation preceded her, and it had never been made so clear. Admiration, wariness, envy; those kinds emotions radiated off her peers in waves.
At that point Yuqi wasn’t new whatsoever, but she sure acted like it. She’d approached near the end of warm ups— after a dozen other introductions had already exhausted Soyeon’s social battery. Even then, there was a sunshiney feel to her that got brighter and brighter in others’ presences, like feeding oxygen to a fire.
A smiling Yuqi opened her mouth, looked Soyeon dead in the eyes, and said… something. Something unintelligible, lost to the noise of girls chit-chatting in the background.
(Looking back, Soyeon should’ve asked the young girl to repeat herself. Or Yuqi could’ve spoken louder, said something normal, like, my name is yuqi, nice to meet you.)
“Um,” Soyeon had stuttered instead, “my name is Soyeon.”
All she could think about in the moment was how Yuqi forgot to bow. Surely someone took the time to teach her, or at least she could’ve done a little observational learning.
Then practice for their monthly evaluation got under way, and Soyeon used that as an excuse to distance herself. She felt curious eyes on her the whole time, though.
See, it had taken two years for them to actually bump into one another, despite training in the same building. Which is why Soyeon was rather surprised when she started to see Yuqi (whose name she only learned the weekend after they met) almost every day from then on.
Yuqi, with her strangely fluent and equally strangely accented Korean, who hadn’t fully grasped that, despite Soyeon’s viral moments on Unpretty Rapstar, the older girl had nowhere near that amount of spectacular, survival-show-diss-battle confidence in actual one-on-one interactions.
Always smiling, to the point where the grin she wore looked as though it might potentially split her face in two. And her face. Yuqi’s face is… a force to be reckoned with. Not Soyeon’s style at first glance— and to be fair, she hadn’t exactly had a type as a teenager— but the look of it grew on her.
(What definitely helped was the sight of Yuqi between her legs, looking up with those pleading puppy-dog eyes; that turned a pretty important switch in Soyeon’s head.)
And even when Yuqi came to understand that she wasn't training with survival show contestant Jeon Soyeon, that didn't deter her like Soyeon had expected. Instead, the unfiltered sunshine radiating off her grew to a thousand watt beam in all directions.
It became painfully obvious later on that Yuqi was intentionally seeking her out.
She would do things like staying back after the other trainees left so they could take the elevator together, cutting Soyeon off in the hallways to ask silly questions, inviting her for a drink down at the cafe in between vocal classes. Eventually, Yuqi would make a habit of sneaking out of her own room to go knocking on Soyeon’s door.
Why her out of everyone, Soyeon used to wonder. There were other, friendlier trainees around, Chinese ones too. Surely any of them would be a better match.
But upon further reflection, there was one thing about Soyeon that was extraordinary, so to speak: her soul mark, or her lack thereof.
She’d still been slow to connect the dots between that and why she in particular seemed to appeal so much to Yuqi.
They were sitting on her bed the afternoon Yuqi confessed to not having a mark either. And before Soyeon could make sense of that Yuqi was cupping her face, but she leaned in so slowly that Soyeon could’ve backed away maybe a hundred times if she wanted.
Yuqi hated being excluded, so she’d been so adamant in attaching herself to Soyeon. Yes, they might have been irreconcilably different in every other sense, but this one similarity was enough. This way, Yuqi didn’t feel so isolated.
Naturally, their relationship continued past their debut. The compatibility was palpable, and besides, it’s not like either of them had other options.
No need to change something that worked so well, right?
…
“It’s me, Soyeon. It has to be.”
“What?”
The bandage strategy, as it turns out, isn’t so foolproof after all, because Yuqi doesn’t understand the concept of ringing a doorbell. Nor does she understand that Soyeon’s spare set of emergency house keys are for, well, emergencies.
Yuqi strolls through the doorway sometime after dinner and walks in on a freshly showered Soyeon digging through a pack of bandages in the living room, mark on her arm right out in the open.
“There’s no way you forgot.” Yuqi is gripping her arm all too forcefully now, fully fixated on Soyeon’s mark. The five words she’d managed to keep hidden for a meager few days. “Remember? That’s exactly what I said.”
They’re in somewhat of a strange position, Soyeon sitting back on the sofa while Yuqi kneels perpendicular to her, kneecaps close enough that they press against her thigh. The towel wrapped around her otherwise nude body threatens to slip with each passing second.
Soyeon grimaces, staring at the floorboards. “I wouldn’t know, Yuqi.”
“You really forgot?” Yuqi sounds so hurt by that, almost unreasonably so.
“I couldn't hear you over the other trainees talking," she admits. “And it's been years.”
“I remembered. And I remember everything you say to me as well,” Yuqi says, shifting closer until she’s practically looming over the older woman. There's a good chance she's being serious, which is sobering. Soyeon wouldn't put it past her.
“But…”
She trails off, seeing the optimism bursting from Yuqi’s eyes and feeling a world away. Pessimism isn’t even Soyeon’s thing, but she’s naturally inclined to worry.
I think you’re my soulmate is a phrase Soyeon must have heard at least a hundred times from a hundred different people; in line at the airport, at send-off during their world tours where a number of Neverland are all yelling something similarly worded with the same meaning. It being Yuqi’s first words to her, while coincidental, doesn’t ultimately mean anything.
To make matters worse for whatever argument Yuqi is trying to make, she still doesn’t have her mark. That feels like a nail in the coffin.
“But what if I’m not your soulmate?” Soyeon asks, trying to word the real question— what if Yuqi doesn’t have a soulmate, end of story— as lightly as possible. She tugs her towel back up to collarbone level right as it slips lower.
Yuqi frowns petulantly, clearly missing the point. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. I don’t want a soulmate if it's not you.”
Soyeon has to wonder how much of that is genuine, whether that statement would still hold true if it wasn’t just a hypothetical. While it’s not like Yuqi’s ever said outright that she wants a soul mark, she tends to give off that kind of vibe. This unfathomable sort of hopeless romanticism born from who knows where.
The sky is blue. The grass is green. Yuqi believes in soulmates, invisible red strings. And Soyeon would be sick in the head to think Yuqi might choose her over a promised, predestined love.
“That’s hard to believe, Yuqi.”
“Only because you don’t want to!” The outburst comes out of nowhere, Yuqi moving suddenly to cage Soyeon between both legs. “I’ve never even looked at anyone else since we met,” she says, quieter now.
Soyeon purses her lips as her eyes flicker up to search Yuqi’s own. “You said you knew not to expect anything.”
“Things are different from how they were when we debuted,” Yuqi argues hotly, ever so stubborn in sticking to her views. “We both changed, so that can change too.”
“It’s not as simple as you think it is,” Soyeon murmurs.
Yuqi frowns harder, quite literally staring her down. “Yeah? Then explain it if I really don’t understand,” she says, and Soyeon wishes so badly that she could put everything she feels into the right words. It shouldn’t be this difficult, but an element of uncertainty seems to linger no matter what is said or done.
Yuqi is… a turbulent individual. Quick to change her mind over small things. Soyeon would consider herself pretty insignificant in the face of everyone Yuqi knows— who’s to say Yuqi won’t turn her back on this overblown crush at a moment’s notice?
But then again, Soyeon has always been the more rigid one. If the universe pointed her to someone else, she wouldn’t stay in this arrangement with Yuqi, would she?
The thought frustrates her, inexplicably so. This whole topic does.
“I didn’t think you were here to make a fuss,” she says crossly, when Yuqi clutches a tad too hard at her bicep.
“Well, I didn't come over with that intention.”
“Then what?”
Yuqi snorts, looking unfairly forlorn. “Isn’t that obvious? You only want one thing from me.” She slips her fingers beneath the towel wrapped around Soyeon’s body. Easing it loose until her breasts are laid bare.
Soyeon sighs, shameless as Yuqi’s gaze rakes over her tightened nipples. Even now, as they’re arguing, she’s hit with a desire for the hand on her arm to move downwards onto her thighs, then deeper where nobody else has ever been.
Maybe it will only ever be Yuqi. Soyeon hates to admit it to herself. “Get on with it, then,” she snarks, knowing Yuqi never hesitates with orders like this.
With the towel bunched at her waist, Soyeon’s as good as naked by the time Yuqi takes hold of her shoulders and manoeuvres them into more of a horizontal position. She shuffles back on the sofa until her head hits the armrest, then a bit more to lay against it. Yuqi, hovering above her on all fours, crawls closer in a rush.
“I’m gonna show you,” she grunts, yanking the towel away and discarding it somewhere on the floor.
“Mm? Show me what?” Soyeon grins back lopsidedly as she reaches up, pulling Yuqi in closer by the base of her neck. The way Yuqi swallows doesn’t go unnoticed.
“That you’re mine,” Yuqi says bluntly, though her tone quickly turns needier, more imploring. “Nobody else deserves to be with you. And I would treat you so well, if you would just let me, Soyeon. Don’t you ever feel like we’re meant to be?”
And she still wonders why Soyeon can never take her seriously. How is that a question when Yuqi goes around saying stuff like that with a straight face? She’s lucky she’s cute about it, though. Endearing in her possessiveness, so narrow-minded that Soyeon’s tempted to stoke the flames for the sole purpose of teasing her.
Not to mention she performs better too, when worked up in all the different ways. Soyeon capitalizes off that quirk way more than is probably normal.
She sighs openly when Yuqi’s mouth descends on her neck, kissing all over before it starts to nibble at her sensitive skin. “Sure, baby. You’re adorable.”
The reaction is immediate, Yuqi shuddering as she loses herself to that silly little praise kink of hers. Her kissing and biting comes to a complete halt, instead Soyeon feels her inhaling shakily from the crook of her neck. Her hips jerk once, twice. “Soyeon…” Yuqi whines.
“Shh… What's wrong?” Soyeon smirks as Yuqi shakes ever so slightly above her— again, such a simple term produces a reaction so overblown. Taking the opportune moment to thrust her knee up between Yuqi’s thighs, she continues, “You like that, baby?”
“I like it when you talk to me,” Yuqi admits, with all the honesty in the world.
A surprised laugh bubbles up from Soyeon at that. She notices as well, for the first time since Yuqi barged in this evening, the younger woman’s attire; Yuqi had probably come over after an ad shoot earlier, judging by the extra expensive feel of her jeans when she rocks her hips against Soyeon’s knee.
Soyeon takes a hand and runs it through maroon hair, Yuqi’s breathing getting heavier— so close that the heat from each exhale reaches her nape. “Oh, I knew that already.”
“Because we’re familiar. We… we fit each other perfectly, isn’t that important?” Yuqi pushes her hips back to the best of her ability, where Soyeon’s skin makes the most contact with her clothed centre. Using her elbows she props herself just high enough to catch Soyeon’s lips in a deep kiss.
It’s as if whatever steaming anger within Yuqi had disappeared in its entirety, evaporating into thin air for a pet name and a kiss. She’s also doing all this fully dressed. Lust seems to turn Yuqi more scatterbrained than anything, Soyeon thinks.
She reaches and tugs at the thick straps of Yuqi’s top, mostly because the material rubbing periodically against her nipples is a bit much if she’s not the one getting off. There’s a zipper going down the middle of it that feels freezing on her chest. “Take it off,” she gasps.
“Do it for me,” Yuqi says around a moan, but there’s nothing that can be even attempted when she effectively blankets Soyeon’s whole body with her weight. Her movements are becoming harder to follow too, speeding up at times before slowing erratically.
So instead Soyeon straightens her leg, hearing Yuqi whimper in protest. “Up.”
Yuqi’s pathetic humping of the air comes to a stop eventually, once the minimal friction proves far from sufficient. “What am I, a dog?” she says sarcastically, before digging her teeth into Soyeon’s collarbone in one sharp bite— not helping her case one bit.
“Maybe,” Soyeon hums. “Would you bark for me?”
“You’re so weird,” Yuqi grumbles, but she obeys anyway, slowly pushing herself up with a sour expression on her face. Sitting back on her thighs now, her long hair gathered and slung haphazardly over one shoulder, she asks, “What now?”
“Turn around, the other way.”
“Huh?” Yuqi scrunches her nose. “Like this?”
She shuffles around a bit until her back is to Soyeon, slightly hunched over. From behind, each rise and fall of her shoulders can be seen so clearly. A blush extends all the way to her shoulder blades, the corgi tattoo she’d gotten a few years ago.
“Perfect,” Soyeon coos, sitting herself up as well. She takes her time mirroring Yuqi’s position and shuffling closer, sending Yuqi a reassuring smile when the younger woman looks over her shoulder unsurely. “Your knees… place them apart, here,” she instructs, before bracketing Yuqi’s spread legs with her own. “That’s my girl.”
Yuqi perks up all of a sudden. “I’m your girl?”
Their position is slightly awkward due to how disadvantaged Soyeon is in height, her chin barely able to reach Yuqi’s shoulder without pitching her whole head up. She might’ve felt embarrassed if Yuqi’s excitement wasn’t so obvious right now, if she weren’t this distracted by it.
“Figure of speech,” she dismisses shortly. Yuqi mutters a couple things under her breath in response, none of which Soyeon catches; most likely just whining, which she likes to ignore anyway.
Both of her arms loop around Yuqi’s midriff, and Soyeon uses one to feel up a cold zipper chain until her finger nudges the pull. She unzips it halfway, pressing kisses onto Yuqi’s exposed skin as she goes, giving in to a peculiar urge that tells her to lick Yuqi’s tattoo. The taste of sweat rests heavy on her tongue, mixed with a bitterness from whatever it is that makes Yuqi smell like flowers all the time.
One strap slides off of Yuqi’s hunched shoulder when Soyeon undoes the zipper further, dragging out the simple act of undressing her. It’s a shame her chest won’t be in sight from here; maybe if Soyeon were many centimetres taller. Makes her wish she had installed some sort of mirror in the room, no matter how arbitrary.
She settles for just touching instead; a hand cupping Yuqi’s breast, the other working its way down her stomach, pausing in intervals as she scratches softly. Yuqi tilts her head back just enough for Soyeon to trail unhurried kisses up her neck.
But before she can have her fun easing the remaining garments off, Yuqi blurts, “Can you touch me for real now?”
“So impatient,” Soyeon says in what is hopefully her most chiding voice. She doesn’t fight it, though, when Yuqi guides her spare hand to the hem of her jeans.
Soyeon doesn’t lead very often when they sleep together, admittedly. Not anymore. Yuqi’s always been a feisty girl, but it had been rather awkward the first handful of times; years ago, when she had still felt adorably shy with no idea what to do, naked in one bed with an older woman (her very own words, despite claiming a gap of one year was nothing).
She’s learned enough since, growth boosted by both familiarity and maturity, that Soyeon doesn’t need to assume that role nowadays unless she truly wants to.
Yuqi shakes her head fiercely. “I really can’t wait anymore.”
“Not at all?”
“I’m so wet,” she mumbles, visibly red in the face even from behind. She’s so cute that Soyeon can’t help but chuckle and give in to her request.
The top comes off easily along with her bra underneath, Yuqi raising her arms cooperatively as Soyeon strips her down the rest of the way save for her pants. Soyeon slips a hand past Yuqi’s panties to find that she’s wet, just as she’d admitted. Underwear soaked through, clinging to her skin. Had Yuqi been so badly pent up for this long?
“Alright, alright,” Soyeon concedes with a laugh. She truly hadn’t expected to get such a kick out of having Yuqi like this— but then again, it’s been what feels like ages.
As always, Yuqi gets off quick, gets off easy. She’s flinching already, pushing her ass back against Soyeon’s pelvis at the first bit of contact on her clit. Soyeon leaves her fingers there, reluctant to give everything at once but also unable to reach much further with the constraints of Yuqi’s clothing.
That only compels Yuqi to grind back on her own, little breathy sounds seeming to fall from her lips with each exhale. Soon enough she lurches forward with just one hand out holding herself up, her back no longer pressed to Soyeon’s chest. “Soyeon, Soyeon, oh…”
Her name sounds disjointed coming from Yuqi’s mouth now, but it brings a smile to Soyeon’s face nonetheless.
“Is it that good?” she asks, attributing the bobbing motions Yuqi does with her head more to her repeated grinding than an active effort at nodding. No matter, since the smooth glide of her fingertips over Yuqi’s skin communicates everything Soyeon needs to know.
So Soyeon switches her approach; whispering, “Tell me what you want," right into Yuqi's ear.
“More.”
“I can't do that, baby.” That last word, though unintentional, rolls off her tongue as reflexively as the kisses spread across Yuqi’s shoulders that follow. Soyeon wriggles her fingers— without success— to prove her point. “See?”
Yuqi doesn’t appear to understand, not in the slightest. If anything, the denial makes her even more unreasonable. She cries out, adorably desperate, then stutters her way through this next sentence. “Then— mnn… say, say something nice to me.”
Of course Yuqi would ask for something like that, so shamelessly too. Soyeon can’t say she wasn’t expecting it, but even then… “I think that’s a bit much.”
“Not if it’s how you really feel,” Yuqi gasps. She leans her head back, turns just enough to catch Soyeon’s gaze from the corner of her half-open eyes, and tries to sustain a weak smirk. Heart racing at breakneck speed where Soyeon’s hand palms her breast, middle and ring fingers parted around her nipple. “So— how do I look?”
Soyeon bites down on her lip, feeling as if all her senses are being bombarded by Yuqi. The sound of Yuqi’s pleasure filling the room, how the perfume she wears seems to have spread absolutely everywhere. Her twitching full-bodied in Soyeon’s arms, the blushing, debauched sight of her.
“Pretty,” is what she settles on, spoken quietly. “So pretty, especially from behind. I haven’t seen you like this in, what, months?”
And for a moment there she pauses, thinking her own question over. Yuqi prefers to see her face during sex and prefers even more to be in control; obviously, Soyeon remembers the few instances where neither were the case.
“That time you were bent over, three of my fingers in your mouth, all covered in drool,” she recounts as Yuqi’s panting grows louder. “You came so many times, and that was beautiful, too. It’s the same now… I think I could take care of you all day.”
“Please.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The eager up and down of Yuqi’s head is definitely a nod this time. It pulls a breathy laugh from Soyeon. “Cute. Your heart’s beating really fast…”
Yuqi makes a strangled noise, short on breath, and likely doesn’t hear a syllable through the sound of her own voice. Her hips haven’t slowed one bit. “Please, please please,” she chants, then cries out Soyeon’s name, prayer-like if it weren’t muddled with lust, as she teeters, sways, and falls past the peak.
Once the shaking and spasms subside, once the whimpering dies out and heavy breathing takes its place, Soyeon removes her fingers slowly and brings them up to Yuqi’s face, where Yuqi moans at the taste of herself upon taking them into her mouth. Sweeping the stray hairs clinging to Yuqi’s neck aside, Soyeon lifts herself onto shaky knees to ease them into a kiss.
“I’m dying to fuck you right now,” Yuqi confesses when they separate, a lovesick look softening her face. She turns around so they’d be facing each other if she craned her head, holding on tight to either side of Soyeon’s waist.
Soyeon certainly feels wet enough for that. A droplet of wetness runs down her inner thigh. She closes her legs, fingers finding the back of Yuqi’s head and drawing her in. Flashing a shy smile, she says, “I’m all yours.”
For the night, she doesn’t dare to add. For the weekend. For years, maybe, until you say you’ve always wanted to date me and I say sorry.
Yuqi’s sunshiney smile lasts all the way until she reaches the junction of Soyeon’s thighs, where it disappears into Soyeon’s dripping core.
All these uncalled-for thoughts rear their heads from the recesses of Soyeon’s mind, in the scant seconds between the flicks of Yuqi’s tongue over her clit. How she’d hate to let this all go, her scathing contempt for the possibility of Yuqi ever doing this to anyone else, redundant what ifs.
It’s so bad, apparently, that even Yuqi notices through the brain fog that comes with having a mouth full of Soyeon’s pussy. Soyeon feels a flash of teeth over her straining nerves as Yuqi mumbles, “Hey— I’m tryna eat you out.”
“Sorry, baby,” she breathes.
The damn mark on her arm itches nonstop, as if reminding her of its existence. A ticking time bomb of five words.
This soulmate thing really is no good after all.
…
Soyeon learned very early on in their messy relationship that nothing’s really enough for Yuqi. Nine times out of ten, that’s manageable and okay.
Yuqi wants, and whatever Soyeon can’t give she makes up for with another round. And it feels good to let the younger woman take control, the mix of having no responsibilities and getting laid under the blurry illusion of no strings attached. So she lets it happen. Lets Yuqi into her apartment to dirty her cushions, her floor, her bedsheets.
And, say, if this had started becoming a daily thing months prior, Soyeon wouldn’t have had any reservations. Except it happens now, and she does have reservations, and the whole thing is starting to drive her up the wall.
Whenever Yuqi's schedule is free these days, she winds up at Soyeon’s place. Sometimes Soyeon will come home to Yuqi already waiting for her like an animal with separation anxiety. And perhaps she really does— that’s just how bad Soyeon lets it all get.
It’s clear as day what the uptick in presence is about; but since Yuqi’s being overly roundabout instead of talking things out like adults, Soyeon tells herself she’s fine handling their problems this way too.
So they fuck nonstop, because it’s what they do best, until they’re lying in bed again for the nth time in one week. Until the thought of not saying anything about the mark makes Soyeon’s heart twist— and it happens more and more these days— so bad that she thinks maybe she does have a guilty conscience after all.
“Hey,” she whispers, testing the waters.
“Hi.” Yuqi’s head lolls sideways, her eyes opening to stare back at Soyeon. Then they drop quickly to her chest, which she chooses to ignore.
“We should talk… about this. The mark.”
“Mmhm,” Yuqi says. “Anything you want.” The baby hairs sticking to her forehead are almost maddening with how attractive they make her look, but the rest of her face, the dazed, anticipatory but trying-to-play-it-cool expression, kind of cancels that effect out.
She’s cute, like a pet. A dog that drools and gets a bit stupid for the right treat. But Yuqi tends to get unnecessarily testy when Soyeon says it after they fuck. This and that about her spit still glistening wet on Soyeon’s nipples yet she’s only cute.
Biting back the thought, Soyeon says, “Yuqi, I'm being serious—”
“—Wait!”
Soyeon startles. “Sorry?”
From the way Yuqi’s eyes had gone wide, the alarm that laced her tone, one would’ve thought she was feeling the early signs of some medical emergency. That doesn’t end up being the case at all.
“I'm about to sneeze,” Yuqi announces, scrunching her nose adorably after a moment. The sneeze never comes, however. She’s also visibly stamping down a smile as she pulls the covers back up.
On a regular night Soyeon would've felt the need to kiss that blabbering mouth shut; tonight, she's on the brink of self-imploding from nerves. “Stop joking around,” she deadpans.
“It really was coming! All the way up, that’s where I felt it. In my soul, even.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Yuqi pouts. “You’re no fun. Let’s just go to sleep.” She scooches closer and promptly gathers Soyeon into her arms. A terrible attempt at diverting attention, in classic Yuqi fashion.
“You can’t just ignore me,” Soyeon sighs, far from accustomed to taking on the pushy role of the two. Yuqi must have some idea of what’s coming; after all, she avoids acknowledging the friends half of their arrangement like the plague.
That boundary is one constantly being overstepped. Even now, Yuqi holds her so close they’re all but sharing heartbeats, fingers tapping along the length of Soyeon’s spine like it’s the fretboard of her guitar. That’s not a friendly thing to do, is it? And while it’s true that Soyeon doesn’t know a thing about what your textbook casual relationship should look like, this feels… much too intimate, considering what she and Yuqi are. Or everything they aren’t, rather.
But being cuddled feels good, and Yuqi likes to cuddle her. Yuqi likes her in general. And Soyeon…
“Hey,” she whispers again. “I’m speaking to you.”
It takes an embarrassing amount of kicking under the covers for Yuqi to finally mumble, “I don't listen to people who say pointless things.” Her jittery movements slow down to a halt behind Soyeon’s back.
“And if we’re making a mistake? If I find someone… forget that, if you get a mark and it’s—”
“I told you,” Yuqi interrupts then, in a wobbly voice, “I don't care what happens, or what people think about us… me. How I feel about you won't change.”
This is something they've talked about before. Just once. And Yuqi right now looks like a carbon copy of herself that day, with her watery eyes and reddened cheeks. Soyeon doesn't know what to do about it.
“Yuqi…” she murmurs, averting her eyes.
She’s experienced the white-hot force that is Yuqi’s anger plenty. Over lines the younger woman wanted but didn’t get, over Soyeon’s tendency to get wrapped up in work and ignore texts for days on end, over the clear distinctions between their bond and an actual couple with matching marks, all of which Yuqi seems hell-bent on denying.
Looking at it cumulatively, Yuqi has got to be the moodiest person Soyeon knows. Her anger comes and goes, washes away if you sit it out, like ducking under a ledge during short-lived bouts of pouring rain.
But it’s different when instead of blowing up, Yuqi crumples in. Soyeon isn’t versed in handling the self-destructive spirals after Yuqi’s burned her explosive emotions out, wasn’t there during their hiatus for the worst of them.
Yuqi is blinking away tears when Soyeon glances back up. “I… I hate imagining you with other people. I feel sick just thinking about it, so how do you say these things so easily?”
“It’s not easy for me either.”
“Then don’t talk about it.” Yuqi’s voice pitches up beseechingly. “I’ve always thought of you in a special way, Soyeon. It’s alright with me if you don’t feel completely the same yet. But your mark still matches with what I said, and that— that counts for something, doesn’t it?”
And just like this they’re back to the far-away notion of being soulmates. But that’s such an impossibility in Soyeon’s mind; what sense does it make if Yuqi doesn’t have a soul mark? It’s pure delusion as far as she’s concerned.
Soyeon sighs, unable to help the frustration. “I don’t see it that way. And… listen, Yuqi. I can’t do this with you if you’re not being sensible. We’re friends. That’s how it is, at the end of the day. You can’t just make stuff up and assume I’m on your wavelength.”
Straight to the point, and she should’ve known being blunt would only worsen the blow. Hell, judging by the way Yuqi clamps her mouth shut, they might as well just end it all here.
Glassy-eyed, Yuqi bites down on her bottom lip before turning her back to Soyeon. “Fine,” she says shakily; her voice muffled into a pillow, or it’s just that quiet. “I’ll stop, or— whatever, if that’s what you want. At least I’m not the one in denial because I’m scared.”
Yuqi’s side of the bed is vacant in the morning. And the next, and the one after that.