Work Text:
MED-1
There’s a fair– Jihyo wins a bottle of rhum while Sana wins a bag of chips. And suddenly Sana finds herself sitting on a forgotten log by the shore, the sea breeze bringing prickles of salt with the cold air, but there’s warmth from Jihyo’s shoulder that was bumping against her own.
“Tell me,” Sana hears herself saying, the dissonance in her mind signaling her that she was three, four more shots from getting drunk,
Jihyo hums, and wow, there’s a melody in the four-beat note that escapes Jihyo’s throat.
Sana wills herself to stay silent, eyes now focusing on the ebb of waves that were a stone-throw’s distance from where they were. She wishes Jihyo would hum more.
A nudge, and the slosh of rhum from the bottle’s lips coincides with the small crash of the tiniest swell that reaches the shore.
“Sorry,” Jihyo says, but her actions are unapologetic. She shoves the long-necked spirit in Sana’s face, “your shot.”
She takes the bottle, now already half its weight than how she remembers it earlier at the fair. Downs two gulps, slowly. The bitter tang of the amber liquid has close to zero qualities to be desired, but the warmth it gives as it slides down her throat– well, makes it a little worthwhile.
The can of Coke Jihyo hands over shortly after helps wash away the awful trace of fermented bits from her tongue.
-
“Park Jihyo.” Sana starts, and, not for the first time, it comes to her mind that she likes saying Jihyo’s name out loud. Likes it when Jihyo’s eyes are on her, likes it when Jihyo waits expectantly, as if Sana has anything of merit to say. She doesn’t. “Voted ‘most likely to save the world’ back in high school,”
“I am gonna kill Jeongyeon.” The wind carries the threat to the sea, goes forgotten the moment a smile plays on Jihyo’s lips.
Sana smiles as well, because mirroring behavior was a universal constant in conversations she’d be interested in. Sana’s attention is solely on Jihyo, the sea never stood a chance.
She wonders if she could stretch Jihyo’s smile a little wider, so she tries with another piece of information:
“Park Jihyo. If I’d google you now, If I’d google scholar you now, it’ll be–” Sana remembers the bottle in her grip. Minds her thumb and last two digits to hold it tighter by the neck, because she was making a show of waving two fingers in the air.
Jihyo’s face flushes with embarrassment, her eyes downsizing to throw a glare at Sana.
“Two. Two published papers. Stop. That Jihyo died when we entered grad fucking school. Who told you that?” Jihyo wasn’t smiling. Instead, a pout plays on her face. Etches a little deeper when a laugh escaped Sana’s lips. Goes away for the briefest of time when she gets busy with her turn to take a shot.
Sana fumbles, tears her eyes from Jihyo’s for a moment. Leans a little more than half her weight against Jihyo’s side for balance because her phone had to be inconveniently buried in the depths of her back pocket.
She feels Jihyo sit a little straighter. The way kids at the front row seat themselves in elementary. Sana thinks she jokes about it while still trying to get her phone out, and when Jihyo moves her own torso in annoyance – and in just the right amount of front to back, side to side, to make Sana dizzy – Sana’s sure the joke got out and hit a sore spot.
Her screen blinds them both for a moment, the intensity of white too obscene for their eyes that had long adjusted to the starlit sky.
“Sorry,” Sana says, hastily swiping on her screen to get to the brightness controls. She gets off Jihyo too, having no more excuse to press against her. Jihyo sighs, and maybe it’s in relief because the light from Sana’s phone had been lowered to acceptable levels.
(It’s probably that.)
Sana mimics the sigh too, but in disappointment. Jihyo’s shoulder was warm. Anyway, her phone is in her hand, and she has a mission to do. Her next shot could wait.
“Best undergraduate thesis in the Faculty of–” her phone is out of her hands before she could finish the ego-stroking write-up Nayeon published on the pretense of campaigning for Jihyo weeks ago. She hears her phone give off a tick as Jihyo locks it shut. Sana didn’t really need to read the post to know what came next, she did have the tendency to memorize things after reading them over and over. “Health Sciences. Flew to Spain to present it. Then to Russia to present another one. You’re kinda amazing, Park Jihyo.”
It was fun, teasing the overachiever. It was also the truth, and Sana always liked giving out compliments. Jihyo was mumbling, her tongue speaking a dialect that Sana had yet to fully understand. But somehow harsh whispers of ‘Nayeon’ and names of local deities didn’t seem friendly.
Sana twists in her seat, angling her body to face Jihyo. Reaches for the bottle secured in between Jihyo’s feet as an excuse to scoot closer, but really, she just wanted a better view of the girl getting flustered.
Which was kinda hard to see because they were staying at a hostel who turned-off unnecessary lights by the strike of eight in the evening, had stationed guards who were already dozing off with chins tucked to their bellies by ten.
“Park Jihyo,” Sana says again. Gets Jihyo’s attention again, too. The abrupt cessation of incoherent cursing from Jihyo’s end makes Sana fuzzy– she did that. Well, she was also the reason why Jihyo was irritated in the first place but anyway, she’ll think of a topic after her shot.
“Sana,” Jihyo responds, and then a grin dances on her lips. “Minatozaki Sana.”
Two gulps turn into four, but Sana’s sure the warmth blooming in her chest wasn’t because of the alcohol. Jihyo’s voice was low. It wasn’t that low earlier. Sana likes this game better than the whac-a-mole down the fair already.
--
“Tell me,” her pitch matches Jihyo’s, and the sharp inhale Jihyo does when she perches her head atop the vacant shoulder is satisfying to hear.
Two thoughts: One, Jihyo is probably blushing. She sounds like she’s blushing but burning balls of gas light years away and a crescent sliced reflection of the sun offers little lighting to confirm Sana’s suspicions. Two, if she – if they – would ditch the awful bottle of rhum for tongue, nobody would really know. Making out with Jihyo. Park Jihyo,
“What do you wanna know?”
How your lips taste.
“What do you wanna tell me?” Sana asks instead. Her head is lagging, buffering from the familiar combination of lack of sleep, physical exertion, and mental overload. As soon as Jihyo’s voice brings her back to present time, stills of Jihyo taking a shot from their drinks frames in her mind.
Rhum, two gulps. Coke, one. Fuck, it’s Sana’s turn. Again.
Jihyo doesn’t say anything, and Sana thinks it’s fine. She takes her time with her shot, delaying her prodding. Observes with curious eyes how Jihyo nitpicks the chips she won at the game of dice earlier.
---
Sees, with hawk eyes, how Jihyo sneaks in a sip from their limited Coke.
“Hyo!” It’s borderline admonishing, but Sana is serious. The Coke is the needed chaser to the rhum. Also, it dilutes the ethanol in her blood. Maybe it’d allow her to drink a little more that her normal limit.
Sana thinks she’s being pouty and petty, grabbing the last unopened can of Coke from Jihyo’s feet and securing it close to her chest. “No more Coke for you.”
There’s a glint of mischief in Jihyo’s eyes, but maybe Sana’s seeing things already.
“You’re greedy, Sana.” It’s whiny, and Sana would’ve felt guilty if it wasn’t for the red can in Jihyo’s own hand.
“And you’re supposed to be drinking, so drink up– straight.” Sana commands. Jihyo follows. A laugh bubbles in Sana’s chest as Jihyo’s face distorts with the aftertaste of alcohol, but,
“I’m not.” A confession, which makes Sana choke on the laughter in her throat.
A pleasant surprise, too.
Sana conjures a roadmap in her brain, thinking of all the possible dialogues that could happen from now on. Strategizes on what mix of words could possibly lead her to the road of having Jihyo’s hums in her mouth.
And then, panic. Sana goes on panicking. It takes a jerk from Jihyo’s shoulder to bring her focus back to what was in front of her. The rhum.
By the end of her turn, the bottle’s contents were dangerously low. Maybe she drunk more than what she could take in. The familiar – yet unwelcome – sensation of nausea settles in.
----
Jihyo gets the bottle out of her hands, replaces it with the Coke she claimed as hers alone. Already opened, the fizz slowly going back to its soda form.
Jihyo’s gay and smart and kind?
“I’m taking that as a compliment.” Jihyo says, ends with an awkward laugh. It’s adorable, how Jihyo flusters so easily. Sana coos and pinches the nearest cheek within her reach.
Jihyo doesn’t swat Sana’s hand away; she couldn’t. Because she has one hand planted firmly on the log they were on, steadying them both while her other hand angles the bottle to start the free flow of amber into her mouth.
Jihyo gulps, Sana gulps as well. Jihyo isn’t adorable. Not right now when the only thing in Sana’s mind is the image of Jihyo’s tongue catching the drops of alcohol that was trickling down the corner of her lips.
“You’re kinda amazing too,” Jihyo says, and Sana is too invested in memorizing the contours of Jihyo’s face to actually register what Jihyo was saying.
“Minatozaki Sana,” Jihyo teases, and then goes off to list Sana’s credentials.
Sana didn’t really care about them … it didn’t matter anymore. They were all dumb in the eyes of their professors. Mango sharpies ordered in bulk, coloring books, coloring printed transcriptions of their lectures– all to get the passing grade.
Jihyo’s talking about her run in the debate club now, and Sana makes a mental note to take revenge on Mina for telling Jihyo about it.
(She was a part of her collegiate debate team before, but that was because the debate team was notorious for all the things her parents warned her about. They were right, of course. Sana loved every out-of-city competition they had.)
“So, here’s to you, Minatozaki Sana, President Awardee. Youth something, something.” Jihyo pauses her monologue for a moment, thinking hard on the award Sana received when she graduated college. Momo must’ve told Jihyo about it, maybe. Sana snorts, her eyes rolling at the mention of the achievement. “I’m sorry I forgot the fancy title.”
“I wouldn’t hold it against you, I forgot about it too.” Sana offers, and with all the failing marks she got the past year, being reminded of her glorious college days wasn’t something she liked. At all.
Jihyo laughs, this time pure and a little unhinged.
Sana grabs the bottle from Jihyo and takes in what wouldn’t retch out. Downs it with a big serve of Coke, to be sure. Jihyo is still laughing, her shoulder’s minute bounces furthering Sana’s dizziness.
-----
“When I was neck-deep in my undergraduate thesis I had this major breakdown in the lab at the middle of the night.” Jihyo says. She presses her head against Sana’s tentatively, and Sana takes it as her cue to snuggle into Jihyo’s side. “I remember going home at six in the morning after sterilizing some few hundred petri dishes. Told my mom I didn’t want to do what I was doing anymore.”
A big sigh, and Sana may be drunk but she’s positive Jihyo doesn’t need her to talk right now. Instead, she runs her hand up and down Jihyo’s arm, hoping it’d offer comfort.
“She let me sleep in that day. Cooked me a really nice brunch and then gave me my allowance for the week.” Jihyo didn’t need to say anything more. Her two papers published in international journals spoke for themselves. If that didn’t, then the sigh heavier than the last did.
“How do you do it, Sana?”
“I … don’t.” Sana confesses, “I haven’t tried failure, not really. Not until last semester and even then, Dad never believed me when I told him I was gonna fail. I’ve never hated positivity so much in my entire life.” Sana feels lighter, and then words were taking leave from her mouth before her mind could catch up, “I don’t want to be reduced to ribbons and certificates and medals on the wall. The Minatozaki Sana awardee of this, the Minatozaki Sana title holder of that.”
Sana loosens her hold on Jihyo’s arm, taking her time to move away from the body of warmth that her skin was getting familiar with. Reaches for the bottle and takes her fair share of amber liquid before handing it Jihyo.
------
Jihyo takes the near-empty bottle, angles it a little higher than normal, and empties it.
“Well, what do you wanna be?” Jihyo asks, tugging Sana by the hem of her shirt. Maybe Jihyo was drunk? Sana scoots closer, but not before finishing the can of soda– just to get a rise out of Jihyo. It didn’t work, Jihyo still had a small smile on. A hum from Jihyo, and if the soda teasing didn’t work anymore,
“Sana.” Sana says, her hands meeting on Jihyo’s shoulder, forming some kind of stage for her chin to park on. It levels her lips to Jihyo’s ear, and she feels a small shiver run down the other girl’s body. “Jihyo’s Sana.”
It was a joke, flirty and messy and not smooth at all because Sana’s head was currently spinning clockwise. Counterclockwise? Swaying side to side.
She didn’t know if she ever said them or she was just thinking about it, but Jihyo turns to face her.
Huh, Sana blinks in mild suprise at their proximity.
Huh. Her eyes closes for a fraction of time but she’s sure Jihyo kisses her on the nose. Even hears a small ‘okay’ after.
Sana asks a repeat of what they were talking about, and Jihyo gives her a laugh in response instead. Stands up and offers her hand to Sana. Reminds her that they have to wake up early later because they were on a medical mission in a far-flung town.
Sana whines, absolutely devastated that their night was coming to an end. She feels Jihyo pull her close, too close. Sana instantly cirlces her arms around Jihyo’s waist. Blames her state of inebriation and the inability to balance with her two feet on the flat sand for her clinginess to Jihyo.
She doesn’t need to, because Jihyo secures her instantly with an arm wrapped across her shoulders. Jihyo slides out Sana’s phone from her pocket, opens the camera to take a video:
“Here, so you’ll remember when you’re sober.” Jihyo whispers into her ear, plants a kiss to her temple before repeating her question earlier, “What do you wanna be?”
“Jihyo’s Sana!”
Another laugh from Jihyo, and it takes Sana a moment to secure her toes to in the sand. When she’s sure she isn’t spinning, her hands climb up to Jihyo’s nape, making Jihyo look at her with questioning eyes.
A hum flits in the air, and in the next second, gets silenced against Sana’s lips.
“And you, you’ll be–” Sana stops to catch her breath, “Sana’s Jihyo!”
(Sana is fully aware she’s still drunk, is a little bothered by the rough bark of a coconut tree against her back, but Jihyo’s diving in for another kiss and really, the hangover later was already worth it.)