Chapter Text
It’s never good when your captain goes down with a season ending injury in the second game of the season. Never. But amidst great chaos, unusual opportunities arise. And Lee Chaeryeong was nothing if not an opportunist.
The hotel room was dark and quiet, just the way she liked it. She barely even had to pretend anymore—Jeongyeon hadn’t slept in their room on a road trip since September. Officially, she was just comforting Nayeon, who was supposedly “having a hard time” since Jihyo blew out her knee and she lost her road trip hotel roomie. Unofficially, Chaeryeong suspected there were…other reasons Jeongyeon checked on Nayeon so diligently that she ended up spending the night every single time. But that was none of her business most nights, and especially not tonight. No, tonight Chaeryeong had her own mission.
A stealth mission.
She flicked on the bathroom light and stepped in front of the mirror, eyeing her reflection with the kind of ruthless self-critique she usually reserved for video review with Jungsik and Yeji.
Tight, acid wash jeans. Tighter in the ass than she remembered. Good. A black t-shirt that clung in all the right places—subtle crop to let her abs peek out, sleeves rolled up just high enough to show off her biceps without looking like she meant to.
Her lips weren’t quite giving what they needed to give, though. Chaeryeong had always thought they were her best asset, and she intended to make full use of them tonight. She leaned in and applied a swipe of lip gloss—clear, with just a shimmer, and a faint cherry flavor that made her mouth water a little. She smacked her lips together, satisfied.
Hot enough to be casual, casual enough to be hot. She nodded once to her reflection.
She grabbed her jacket and slid her arms through the sleeves, then double-checked her essentials: phone, wallet, room key. All present. Showtime.
Chaeryeong eased the door open and poked her head out into the hallway. Empty. Perfect.
She slipped into the corridor and started walking—normal pace at first, then a bit quicker as she passed by Coach Jessi’s door. No sounds from inside. Not that there ever were; from what she could tell, Jessi had the sleep schedule of a monk and the situational awareness of a bloodhound. Chaeryeong held her breath until she’d made it past.
The elevator arrived instantly, like fate was on her side. She stepped inside, alone, and watched the numbers tick down with her heart beating a little faster than she’d like to admit. This was stupid. This was risky.
But most importantly, it was fun.
Within minutes, she was out the hotel’s main door without even a passing glance from the employee manning the front desk. She crossed the quiet street and slipped onto the tree-lined edge of Blockberry College’s campus, heading to a familiar destination.
***
Chaeryeong knocked, then stepped back, hands jammed into the pockets of her jacket like she hadn’t been fidgeting with her lip gloss a scant ten minutes prior in the hotel mirror.
The door opened with a soft creak, and there was Yves, leaning one shoulder casually against the frame. Her blue and white striped button down hung loose over dark sweatpants, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, collar open just enough to make Chaeryeong’s pulse hitch. Her dark hair was slightly mussed, like she’d run her fingers through it just once and decided that was enough. She looked good, Chaeryeong supposed. That curious combination of pretty and handsome she always had. She had looked that way since the day they met.
Well. There was an additional feature tonight that her face certainly lacked those many years ago: the faint purple bloom of a black eye spreading right above her cheekbone, a nice little souvenir from their game earlier that night. Did the evidence of their encounter make Yves look more attractive than usual, or did Chaeryeong just enjoy admiring her own handiwork? A difficult question to answer.
“Hey,” Yves said, warm and easy, but her gaze did a quick sweep—slow enough for Chaeryeong to catch, fast enough for Yves to pretend it hadn’t happened. Chaeryeong arched a brow but didn’t comment. She didn’t have to. The smirk curling up her lips said it all.
“Hey,” Chaeryeong replied, stepping in when Yves moved aside to let her through. Their arms brushed. Deliberate? Maybe. Chaeryeong’s smirk deepened. “Nice shiner. Looks good on you.”
“Oh, come on,” Yves groaned, rolling her eyes. “Don’t gloat.”
Chaeryeong giggled—a dainty, soft little sound—as she toed off her shoes. “You literally begged me to scrap.”
“Maybe so,” Yves replied with an exaggerated pout, “but did you have to be so rough?”
“Oh?” Chaeryeong said, clicking tongue. “Sorry, I thought you liked it a little rough.”
Yves shook her head, smiling her crooked little smile. “I’m actually very sensitive, Chaeryeong.”
Chaeryeong hummed, unconvinced, and stole a glance back at Yves as the older girl closed the door behind her—still so effortlessly cool, that same subtle confidence she’d had the very first time Chaeryeong laid eyes on her at summer camp, back when she was fourteen going on fifteen, all knees and ambition. Yves had just finished her junior year and carried herself with that next level ease that older players seemed to have—calm, controlled, unfazed. She’d taken Chaeryeong under her wing that summer, taught her the instincts that now felt like second nature: how to hold a blue line, when to step up with a hip check, how to make a slapshot sing.
As a kid, she preened under the attention Yves gave her—the easy smiles, the way she’d hook their arms together between drills, the casual, dazzling compliments that always made Chaeryeong’s stomach flutter. At first, it just felt like admiration. Eventually, she realized it was more than that. It wasn’t some grand, disorienting epiphany, but something gentler. A sense of ease. Of yes, this makes sense. It turned out Chaeryeong liked girls just as much as she liked boys, and while there hadn’t been any girls in high school who caught her eye quite the way Yves did, the quiet clarity of that crush gave her a kind of comfort in her teenage years. A quiet confidence she carried with her into college, where things came a little easier.
Still, all that made it a little surreal, seeing Yves again in college after a couple years apart. Because Chaeryeong wasn’t just some kid looking up to her anymore. She was grown, confident, quick with her stick and quicker with her tongue—and finally bold enough to flirt, to lean in, and to kiss her.
The first time had been at the end of Chaeryeong’s freshman year, after that first brutal loss to SM in the finals, just a month before her nineteenth birthday. They’d fallen into a pleasant routine after that, maintaining a solid friendship apart and a more physical relationship whenever their teams would play in season. Chaeryeong liked their little dance, the simplicity of it, the familiarity.
Yves stepped closer, lifting her hands between them, palms up. Chaeryeong gave her a look—eyebrow arched, lips twitching. What are you doing?
Yves tilted her head, the barest hint of a smirk playing at her mouth. “Your jacket?”
Chaeryeong rolled her eyes, but let Yves slip her fingers under the collar and help her shrug it off. Her hands were warm. She disappeared briefly to hang it on a hook by the door, and Chaeryeong took the opportunity to glance around.
The apartment looked like every other off campus rental Chaeryeong had ever been in—beige walls, thrifted furniture, dim overhead lighting—but something was, well, off. Not bad, just…suspiciously tidy. A throw blanket was artfully draped over the couch like it had been arranged and rearranged at least a couple of times. A candle flickered on the low coffee table, next to a stack of coasters Chaeryeong would bet had never been used before tonight. The surfaces were cleared of most items in a way that made them seem clean, even if they hadn’t been cleaned thoroughly in quite some time.
Chaeryeong’s mouth twitched. Yves was many things—talented, witty, undeniably hot—but she was not tidy. This wasn’t her usual chaos. No, this had all the signs of someone who’d tried to erase the wreckage of a messy apartment in the space of about fifteen minutes.
Yves reappeared at her side, hands slipping casually into the pockets of her sweatpants. Chaeryeong didn’t make eye contact right away. Instead, she reached up, fingertips brushing lightly under Yves’ bruised eye.
“Does it really hurt?” she asked, tone feather light, more curious than concerned.
Yves shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling. “A little.”
Chaeryeong’s lips curved into something both sympathetic and teasing. “Awww. Poor baby,” she cooed. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
Yves tilted her head in consideration, a faint smile creeping across her face. “Tempting,” she murmured. “But I can think of better uses for your mouth.”
Before Chaeryeong could get a word in—some quip, some taunt—Yves had already slipped an arm around her waist, fingers finding the small of her back, and pulled her in close. Chaeryeong didn’t resist. Didn’t even pretend to. Their lips met halfway.
The kiss was familiar, but not boring. Chaeryeong had always liked the way Yves kissed her, like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she wasn’t in a rush but also wasn’t shy about wanting her.
Yves was all steady hands and sure pressure, her mouth gentle but insistent, her tongue a slow tease. A soft swipe here, a bolder one there—just enough to make Chaeryeong’s body sing with want before pulling back to make her earn it. It was maddening. It was perfect. Chaeryeong melted into it, pliant and pretty and very much on purpose, letting herself be kissed, letting herself be wanted.
That was what she liked best; how clear it always was, how easy. The warmth in Yves’ touch, the hunger just under her skin, like Chaeryeong was something she’d been craving for a long time. And maybe she had. Chaeryeong liked the idea of that, too.
She slid a hand beneath the loose collar of Yves’ button down, fingertips brushing bare skin.
“Why don’t you show me your bedroom,” she whispered.
She felt Yves smile against her lips.
***
Chaeryeong always enjoyed this part; fooling around on the bed, all giggles and soft touches until the night took a turn to its inevitable conclusion. She lay beneath Yves now, one leg loosely hooked around her hip, lips swollen from kissing, cheeks flushed with the thrill of being wanted.
Yves’ hand crept beneath her shirt, fingers dragging lightly along Chaeryeong’s ribs, just beneath the edge of her bra. The scratch was feather soft, more teasing than ticklish. Chaeryeong tipped her head back in anticipation, and Yves took the invitation, leaning in to press her mouth to the delicate skin of her neck.
A sigh escaped Chaeryeong—soft, deliberate, feminine. She wasn’t pretending; she just knew how to make a moment feel cinematic. She felt more than heard Yves murmur against her neck, “You’re so beautiful.”
Oh, she loved that.
Not that Chaeryeong was a narcissist. She wasn’t! She totally wasn’t. She just liked to be appreciated. Doesn’t every girl love hearing she’s beautiful? Is that so wrong? To want to be wanted? To want the person you’re with—even if it’s just a hookup—to be a little obsessed with you?
Yves’ hand grazed the hem of her shirt, fingers tracing lightly along the edge.
“Can I take this off?” she asked, voice low, reverent.
Chaeryeong’s lips curled. “Only if you do it slowly.”
Yves rolled her eyes, even as her hands obeyed. “So bossy.”
But she peeled it off like a gift being unwrapped, inch by inch, kissing up Chaeryeong’s midline as more skin was revealed. Chaeryeong arched into the attention, half sitting up to help pull the shirt the rest of the way off. She caught the way Yves’ gaze dragged across her torso—hungry, focused, like she was trying to memorize every inch.
“You’re so hot,” Yves mumbled, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
Chaeryeong’s grin turned molten. She reached up, curled her fingers into Yves’ collar, and tugged her down into a kiss—slow and wet and a little possessive. She sucked lightly on her bottom lip before parting.
“You want me?” she murmured.
Yves nodded.
Chaeryeong voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing hers. “Then show me how much.”
Yves returned to her neck, starting at her jaw and kissing her way down, unhurried and deliberate. Chaeryeong let her head fall to the side, offering more of her throat, a soft breath catching as she felt a small nip right at her pulse point.
By the time Yves reached her collarbone, Chaeryeong was squirming, restless in that particular way she got when someone was really taking their time with her, like they had all night, like she was something to be savored.
Yves mouthed along the top of her breasts, kissing gently over the fabric of her bra, and then looked up at her, eyes warm, a question on her lips. “May I?”
Chaeryeong nodded, pleased, and arched her back in one smooth, languid motion so that Yves could snake her arm around and unclip her bra. She supposed she could have just removed it herself, but she liked to give an offering, a little show of elegance and ease. She liked letting Yves do the work, liked being unwrapped by someone else. There was something intoxicating about that tender dance.
Yves unclasped the bra with a flick of her fingers and slipped the straps from her shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss just below the hollow of Chaeryeong’s throat as she slid the garment fully down her arms and tossed it to the side.
And then, she was everywhere. Yves lavished her chest with kisses and little nips, and brought a hand up to stroke one sensitive nipple with her thumb as she took the other in her mouth, tongue circling, circling, circling with practiced purpose. Chaeryeong let herself sink, closing her eyes and groaning when Yves’ other hand grabbed at her waist, steady and strong.
Her breathing was slow but heavy now, skin tingling everywhere Yves touched, thoughts blurring around the edges. It was easy to lose herself in the feel of it, in the way Yves’ lips caressed her skin like she meant it, like every inch of her mattered. She felt adored. She felt wanted. She felt-
Yves’ mouth found hers again, and Chaeryeong kissed her back eagerly, a little breathless, her hand cupping the nape of her neck. Yves’ other hand trailed down Chaeryeong’s side, teasing along her abs.
Oh, yes. She liked that. Chaeryeong had worked hard for those abs, and she knew Yves liked them. She could feel it in the slow, deliberate drag of those long fingers across the defined lines.
That same hand reached the waistband of her jeans. Fingers toyed at the edge, dipped just slightly beneath—and then Yves flicked open the button.
Chaeryeong let out a soft breath, anticipation curling low in her belly. But then, almost absently, a thought rose to the surface—him. Right, right. She should say something. Just because she was a little lost in the moment didn’t mean standard hookup etiquette went out the window.
She caught Yves’ wrist gently, fingers closing around it before she could go further.
Yves looked up immediately, still and attentive. “Everything okay? Should we stop?”
Chaeryeong shook her head, a calm little smile playing on her lips. “No, not that. I just wanted to say something before we go any further.”
Yves stayed quiet, eyes steady, listening.
“I’ve been hooking up with someone,” Chaeryeong said, tone even. “Just one person. It’s been a couple of weeks, pretty casual. But I figured you should know.”
She watched Yves’ face carefully, but didn’t see a flicker of judgment; just attention.
“We’re both clean,” she added. “No STDs, no surprises. It just…seemed like I should mention it.”
“You’re very considerate, Lee Chaeryeong,” Yves said, her mouth tugging into that handsome little half-smile.
Chaeryeong rolled her eyes, but she smiled back. It wasn’t really about being considerate; it was basic decency. A bit of communication is just what you do when you’re regularly hooking up with someone but you’re not exclusive.
But Yves knew all of that; the girl was just being a flirt. And two could play at that game.
Chaeryeong hummed a little mhm in that girly tone she knew Yves was partial to and let her fingers drift along the inside of her wrist, soft and idle. An invitation. Go on.
“No problem,” Yves said. “I’ve had a couple of casual things since we met up over the summer. Nothing serious. I’m clean too; I get tested regularly.”
Chaeryeong nodded. “Look at us. So responsible.”
“Unreasonably so,” Yves agreed, voice a little huskier now. She leaned in again, slow and deliberate. “I think you deserve a reward for all this consideration.”
“Oh?” Chaeryeong said, lifting a brow. “You gonna be nice to me?”
“I was planning on being very nice to you,” Yves replied, her lips already brushing against Chaeryeong’s. “Unless you’d prefer something else.”
Chaeryeong grinned against her mouth. “Surprise me.”
And then Yves kissed her, slow and certain. Her hands roamed again, one drifting down Chaeryeong’s stomach, short nails skimming just a little harder this time, scratching lightly over the defined line of her abs. Chaeryeong made a quiet sound into the kiss, her body arching instinctively, chasing the sensation.
She didn’t need to look to know what came next; the familiar rasp of her zipper coming down was enough. Her pulse jumped. Yves’ mouth never left hers, lips insistent, tongue teasing, steadying her in the kind of kiss that made everything else fade out around the edges. Chaeryeong let herself melt into it, into the sure touch of Yves’ hands and the warm press of her body. The anticipation pooled low in her stomach, electric and inevitable.
A hand slid into her jeans, cupping her over her underwear, and Chaeryeong had half a mind to complain about the remaining barrier between them. But then Yves’ fingers were pressing oh so gently through the fabric, circling with delicate pressure, and Chaeryeong reconsidered. She could let Yves have her way for now.
Her patience was rewarded at last when Yves dragged her hand back up to slip it beneath that last bit of fabric. Chaeryeong couldn’t help the whimper that tumbled from her lips, couldn’t help the moan that followed when those long fingers made their way gently through her folds.
“So wet?” Yves murmured against her lips. “For me?”
“Yes,” Chaeryeong whispered back, breathless. “All for you.”
She felt a fingertip make its way up to her clit for a tantalizing moment before it snaked back down to circle her entrance. God, Yves could be such a tease sometimes.
Chaeryeong had had enough.
She brought both her arms up and around Yves, embracing her tightly and breaking their kiss so she could mouth at the girl’s throat for just a moment. She licked a slow, long stripe up the side of her neck until she reached Yves’ ear, which she took gently between her teeth before pulling and letting go.
“I want you inside,” she breathed right in Yves’ ear, voice low and sultry.
Yves kissed her again, harder this time, as she slid her hand up and out of Chaeryeong’s jeans.
Chaeryeong immediately let out a frustrated little whine, high and needy, until she realized what was happening. Yves wasn’t stopping; she was reaching for the waistband.
Oh.
Chaeryeong lifted her hips in silent coordination, and Yves peeled her jeans and underwear down and off together in one fluid motion, discarding them to the side. Normally, Chaeryeong would have taken a moment to bask in the way Yves looked at her—because of course she was looking, gaze drifting slowly down, then back up with that unmistakable glint of appreciation. But her patience had worn thin. She wasn’t in the mood to simply be admired; she wanted more.
She sat up and tugged on Yves’ shirt, fingers curling insistently in the soft fabric. Yves raised an eyebrow, amused—but before she could say anything, Chaeryeong leaned in, kissed her hard, and started on the buttons.
“I want to feel your skin on mine,” she breathed against Yves’ lips, and the girl moaned, full and throaty.
Yves’ shirt hit the floor a moment later.
When Chaeryeong’s back hit the mattress, Yves followed soon after, chasing her lips. There was always something so nice in the feeling of skin on skin, on her front and on her hands as they roamed Yves’ strong back and the delicate curve of her waist. Chaeryeong had long admired the female form, and there was no female form she had admired longer than Yves.
She felt a hand creeping up her thigh and parted her legs just a bit to give it more room to explore (and a bit of direction). Just as Chaeryeong had hoped, its journey was short, and she closed her eyes as a pair of fingers wound their way through her slick folds to her entrance.
That first dip of Yves into her wet heat felt sublime, and Chaeryeong moaned into her mouth, soft and breathy. The pace Yves set was good, pleasant, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, somehow.
Chaeryeong brought one arm up so she could clutch at the back of Yves’ shoulder with a vice grip, and the other up to tangle in the girl’s hair. When she started grinding her hips to match the rhythm, each thrust of Yves’ fingers sunk in a little deeper, a little harder. Just right, just enough to make Chaeryeong moan again, this time loud with just a touch of desperation.
When Yves breathed out a well-deserved fuck, Chaeryeong against her lips, Chaeryeong preened and rolled her hips just a bit harder. God, Yves always knew exactly how to touch her. She could feel herself entering that dangerous zone where her filter disappeared, where she was liable to say just about anything that came to her mind. She couldn’t find it in herself to care as two fingers curled inside her just right, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her body.
“Did you ever think about me like this,” Chaeryeong moaned softly, “before we first hooked up?” She dug her short nails into Yves’ shoulder when the girl made a beckoning motion inside her with her fingers. Fuck.
“Did you wonder what I’d look like underneath you? What sounds I’d make?” She let out two such sounds as a little sample: a gasp followed a breathy moan consisting of Yves’ name. The girl in question kissed her neck, wet and hot and followed by a little bite.
Chaeryeong adjusted the position of her head so she could make sure her mouth was right by Yves’ ear as she groaned softly, before finally asking, “Did you ever wonder how many of your fingers I could take?”
Yves lips crashed into hers in a searing kiss, tongue swiping into her mouth with reckless abandon, teeth nipping at her bottom lip. When they parted, lips ghosting over one another, Chaeryeong opened her eyes to find Yves watching her.
“At least one more,” Chaeryeong whispered, “if you wanted to.”
Yves was an experienced girl. She knew how to take direction.
“Actually,” Yves replied, adding a third, “I hadn’t really thought about you like that at all.” Chaeryeong groaned at the stretch. “But when I saw you that night, you were all grown up, huh?”
Fuck, Yves was so hot. Chaeryeong loved older women.
“We’re both in our early twenties, Chaeryeong. I’m not old.”
Oops. She hadn’t realized she voiced that thought out loud. But Chaeryeong could feel Yves’ grin against her jaw; the girl was teasing. Though she was starting to near her peak, Chaeryeong still felt like she could play along too. Maybe one last quip.
“Don’t worry,” she replied, following the sound with a long, deliberate moan, “you’re old to me.”
And then her back was arching, higher, higher, higher, abs clenching and toes curling as she came, hard, Yves’s low laughter a rumble against her cheek, her fingers steadily slowing as Chaeryeong made her return to earth.
***
Chaeryeong lay draped across Yves’ body, cheek pressed to the warm rise and fall of her chest. Her own breathing had mostly evened out, and at this point she was just basking a bit in the pleasant aftermath of it all. Yves’ fingers moved slowly along her back, light as a whisper, tracing long, curving lines from shoulder to waist. It was soothing in a way that made Chaeryeong want to purr.
She let her hand wander across Yves’ torso, absentmindedly, not with intention so much as instinct. A soft stroke here, a curious little press there. The slope of her side, the gentle dip of her waist, the firm line of her abs under smooth skin. Chaeryeong’s palm came to rest just below her ribs, where she could feel the way her lungs would expand and contract with every breath.
Chaeryeong was not too proud to admit that she had a certain…fascination with Yves’ body. It’s not that Yves was the only girl she’d ever been with. She’d slept with other girls, had run her hands over their curves, admired them, kissed them, wanted them. Maybe it was a lingering curiosity from when she was a teenager just discovering herself, or maybe a sense of pride, of something primal that came from coming to intimately know the very person who awakened an important part of your sexuality.
Whatever the reason, there was just something extra shiny about Yves, to Chaeryeong. Those high cheekbones, those full lips, that lithe but powerful body. Chaeryeong felt quite powerful herself, her finger tracing a delicate line along Yves’ ribcage up to the bottom of her breast. She heard the girl’s breath hitch, and when her touch crept further up still, she felt her shiver. The urge to touch more and more was becoming overwhelming.
Chaeryeong shifted slightly, twisting just enough to tilt her chin up and press her mouth to Yves’. Just a light touch, barely there, until she got a reaction. Yves kissed her back, slow as molasses, and Chaeryeong swiped a soft tongue across her lower lip. Her hand cupped Yves with a deliberate curiosity as she kissed her again, open mouthed, savoring the way Yves reacted when her thumb brushed a nipple, how she exhaled against her like she wasn’t even trying to remain composed.
Yves let out a soft sound—almost a sigh, almost a moan—and Chaeryeong felt it like a current under her skin. She liked drawing those sounds from her, the quiet proof of her pleasure. It made her feel wanted. More than that, it made her feel capable.
Yves’ fingers curled lightly at Chaeryeong’s jaw as they kissed again, slow and sultry. Those fingers slipped into her hair as Chaeryeong’s hand drifted down again, trailing over the soft plane of Yves’ stomach, pausing with a teasing pressure at the edge of the waistband of her sweatpants. She waited, toying with the fabric, until she got what she wanted: a soft Chaeryeong murmured against her lips. Not quite begging, but still tinged with a slight desperation that made Chaeryeong thrum with pride.
Chaeryeong smiled against her lips as she kissed her again, and then she slipped her hand in. It didn’t take long once her fingers wound their way through Yves’ wet folds to that oh so sensitive bundle of nerves. Chaeryeong barely had time to smirk at how turned on Yves clearly was just from giving Chaeryeong exactly what she wanted before the girl was coming undone beneath her with a breathy gasp of her name.
Yves collapsed into her arms with a happy little sigh, rolling onto her side and tucking her face against Chaeryeong’s chest. Her skin was flushed, her breathing still a little uneven, and Chaeryeong could feel the way her smile lingered against her skin.
Chaeryeong carded a hand lazily through Yves’ hair, enjoying the moment, until a small wave of petulance crept in. All of that went by just a little too fast for her liking. If Chaeryeong was choosing to give after receiving in bed—an honor she didn’t give to just anyone—she wanted her money’s worth. God forbid a girl just want the full top experience every once in a while.
She arched a brow, voice dry. “That was quick. You didn’t even let me have my fun.”
Yves cracked one eye open and tilted her chin up to look at her, grinning. “You reap what you sow. Not my fault you were being so hot earlier.”
Chaeryeong’s pout deepened, but she couldn’t exactly argue. She had been pretty hot earlier, very much by design. That didn’t mean she had to let Yves off the hook completely, though. Needling her was half the fun, and Yves always gave as good as she got. Maybe time to change tracks a bit, then.
She shifted slightly, settling more comfortably into the pillows. “So…I’m here.”
Yves blinked, still a bit dazed. “Yes?”
Chaeryeong glanced down at her. “…Which means you definitely haven’t told Chuu you have feelings for her.”
Yves let out a groan and flopped dramatically onto her back, throwing an arm over her face. “Chaeryeong, please. We just had sex. I don’t need a lecture.”
Chaeryeong bit back a laugh. “You really should tell her. It’s your last year together. Clock’s ticking.”
“Mmm.” Yves didn’t dignify that with a real response. She let her arm slide off her face and turned her head toward Chaeryeong. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else. For example, your mysterious new hookup. Tell me about her.”
Chaeryeong blinked, suddenly feeling awkward. “Uh.”
Yves’ eyes lit up. “Tell me about…him?”
Ugh. Yves was annoyingly quick on the uptake. Chaeryeong wasn’t exactly sure how she wanted to respond, but her hesitation lasted just long enough to give herself away.
Yves pounced. “Oh my god. A boy toy? Out with it. What’s his name?”
The jig was up. Yves would probably get it out of her eventually, so might as well rip off the bandaid now.
Chaeryeong sighed. “…Changbin.”
Exactly as Chaeryeong had predicted, Yves’ eyebrows shot up in instant recognition.
“Hold up. Wait, wait, wait. Changbin? Like the Changbin who-”
Chaeryeong slapped a hand over her mouth. “Please do not bring up my sister when we’re in bed together, Yves. Oh my god.”
Yves made a muffled noise of laughter beneath her palm, eyes crinkling as she gave Chaeryeong a double thumbs up. Chaeryeong narrowed her eyes and slowly lifted her hand away.
“So…” Yves said, once freed. “You said it was casual?”
Something about the way she said it made Chaeryeong bristle, though she couldn’t have explained why. Maybe it was the question itself. Maybe it was that Yves’ voice was gentle instead of teasing. She shifted up slightly, pulling the sheet with her. “It is.”
Yves didn’t respond immediately. Just looked at her with that discerning face she wore sometimes. It made something in Chaeryeong’s chest flicker and twist.
She crossed her arms, doubling down. “It is.”
“I never said it wasn’t,” Yves replied evenly.
That shut Chaeryeong up. The air in the room shifted, uncomfortable now. Heavy.
After a beat, Yves softened. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “It’s okay if you’re not sure, by the way. Or if that changes. That’s pretty normal.”
Chaeryeong still felt that strange defensive heat in her belly, prickly and restless. But she knew Yves wasn’t being smug or condescending. She wasn’t even pushing. She was just telling the truth.
For a moment, the room went quiet, save for the soft rustle of sheets and the sound of their breathing, still a little uneven. Then Yves spoke again; quieter this time, voice almost hesitant, almost sad.
“You’re right, by the way.”
Chaeryeong turned her head, puzzled at the change in tone. “Right about what?”
Yves exhaled slowly. “About the clock ticking. With Chuu, I mean.”
Chaeryeong propped herself up on one elbow, a bit relieved that Yves had shifted the spotlight back towards herself. She didn’t need a repeat of that morning she spent crying with Ryujin. And Yves’ romantic problems were much more pressing, and much more interesting, anyway.
“Then why don’t you just tell her?” Chaeryeong asked softly. “You and I both know she’d reciprocate. What’s there to be scared of?”
Yves didn’t answer right away, just shook her head slowly, gaze fixed somewhere on the ceiling. “That’s why I can’t. Why I haven’t.”
Chaeryeong frowned. “That makes zero sense.”
Yves huffed a laugh. “Not to you, maybe.”
Chaeryeong groaned and dropped down onto her back beside her. “Oh my god. Not this again.”
“I don’t have my shit together, Chaeryeong,” Yves said, still calm, still quiet. “I haven’t for a long time.”
“Isn’t that why you took a gap year after high school?” Chaeryeong asked, tilting her head. “To find yourself or whatever?”
“Yeah,” Yves said, tone pensive. “I’ve been kind of doing that, I think. Making headway.”
That, Chaeryeong knew well. Yves had her own issues—some rooted in family, some in mental health, sometimes a messy tangle of both. And something Chaeryeong had long admired about her was the way she’d just…decided. After high school. That she wasn’t going to avoid those things anymore, wasn’t going to let them rule her. It was brave.
“And I’ve kept trying. I am trying,” Yves continued. “I’m way better than I used to be. But I still have work to do.”
Maybe not quite brave enough.
Chaeryeong let her shoulder nudge into Yves’. “Didn’t you always say love conquers all, or whatever?” she teased gently. “Where’s that hopeless romantic energy now?”
Yves didn’t smile. Instead, she looked Chaeryeong in the eyes, her expression clear and serious. “I still believe that,” she said. “I really do think love can prevail. But only if you put the work in. You have to show up, you have to do things that are uncomfortable and that you don’t always like. And you have to do it inch by inch, day by day, choice by choice. I need to be different. I…I want to be someone who knows how to do that, with consistency. Who’s ready for that. Ready for her.”
In that moment, Chaeryeong didn’t quite understand what Yves was talking about. She understood the words, but, well…she’d never been in love. She’d never wanted for a model of a healthy relationship, like Yves had her whole childhood. She’d never had to worry about repeating the mistakes of her parents in any relationships she had. So, as she often did with Yves, she tucked the wisdom in her pocket and stayed quiet.
“Putting in the work matters a lot.”
Her voice didn’t waver.
“It’s the thing that matters most, really.”