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“Do you think I’m sexy?”
Seungkwan sits up from where she’s been splayed out like a starfish on the bed, staring incredulously down at Hansol where she sits on the rug.
God, this is what happens when Hansol allows herself to voice her deep-seated insecurities. She loves and trusts Seungkwan, of course. She’s her best friend, and has been for years. Hansol doesn’t tend to keep secrets, especially with Seungkwan. However, there are things she doesn’t know—that nobody knows—because Hansol is just so embarrassed. She hates feeling embarrassed, and even more so hates others knowing about her embarrassment.
She shouldn’t be allowed to drink wine.
And then Seungkwan laughs, which only causes Hansol to curl into herself further.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Well, I kind of am.” Seungkwan crosses her legs, leaning forward just enough to not fall off the bed. “What prompted this?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.” Seungkwan quirks an eyebrow, staring at Hansol unwaveringly.
Hansol stares right back. She won’t bend on this, and knows Seungkwan will break first.
As anticipated, it doesn’t take long for Seungkwan to huff and roll her eyes, a signifier of Hansol’s victory. “Okay, fine. Hansol, you are sexy. Like, ridiculously sexy. Why are you asking?”
Warmth flushes through Hansol, burning her cheeks and tinging the tips of her ears red. She wishes her grown-out buzz cut was just a bit longer so she could hide them. “You just have to say that.”
Seungkwan crosses her arms, eyebrows drawing together. “I’m serious. Answer my question now.”
Hansol takes interest in her fingernails, pulling at her cuticles. “I don’t know. I was listening to this song, and it was like… It doesn’t matter. I feel like I’m just… not. You call me cute. The others do too.”
She really shouldn’t be allowed to drink wine.
Seungkwan stands from the bed and sucks her teeth before plopping herself on the ground next to Hansol. “Do you think I would ever lie to you?”
“Uh. No. I mean, I hope not.”
“Right. So if I say you are stupidly sexy, you have to believe me,” Seungkwan states, like it’s really that easy. “Besides, being cute doesn’t mean you can’t be sexy.” She pats Hansol’s cheek in that way she does, where the contact is so light and fleeting that Hansol almost leans into it just to confirm it’s real.
“Whatever.” Hansol really wants to drop it, now. The earnestness in Seungkwan’s voice is almost daunting. She doesn’t know why it makes her feel so uneasy.
“Whatever,” Seungkwan parrots before resting her head on Hansol’s shoulder. She lets out a pleased hum that Hansol feels vibrate through her.
A few minutes pass, nothing but the random songs playing from Hansol’s shitty phone speakers—someone had forgotten to turn the Bluetooth speaker off after using it, and despite both knowing it was probably Seungkwan, they decide to pin the blame on Chan—and their breaths filling the space. Seungkwan’s bent knee is pressed against and almost on top of Hansol’s. It’s easy. Familiar. It’s the wine making her head spin.
“Can we get into bed? My neck hurts.”
Hansol chuckles, knocking her head against Seungkwan. “It hasn’t even been that long.”
Seungkwan knocks her shoulder against Hansol’s, who retaliates with twice as much force. Predictably, this leads to Seungkwan turning to face her head on and trying to tackle her. Hansol bends her knees up to block Seungkwan, but she’s persistent, grabbing one of Hansol’s hands and pinning it to the ground beside her head. Hansol laughs when Seungkwan gives her that victorious smirk and pushes her hand away, grabbing at Seungkwan’s shoulder’s to pull her down. One hand slides into Seungkwan’s hair and causes her movements to slow down. Hansol relents as well, and the result is Seungkwan laying half on top of Hansol, hooking her leg around Hansol’s. Her thigh—nearly bare, due to her tiny volleyball shorts—presses against Hansol’s, warm and grounding.
“I thought you wanted to get into bed?”
Seungkwan grumbles something about being comfortable, and rather than start bickering over how both of them are going to regret sleeping on the floor the moment they wake up, she wraps an arm around Seungkwan’s waist.
Things are always easy with Seungkwan. Anytime Hansol has something gnawing at her, despite the additional anxiety caused by voicing it, Seungkwan always soothes it.
“Hansol, you are sexy. Like, ridiculously sexy.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, blames the churning in her stomach on residual nerves, and prays for sleep.
Hansol stares at herself in the mirror, hands nearly flat at her sides.
She doesn’t get it. This outfit looks good in all the inspo photos she’s saved on Pinterest. It’s pretty simple: low-waist baggy jeans, a cropped short sleeve button up over an even more cropped tank. The shirt has only the second from the top button done, so a lot more of her stomach is visible than she’s used to.
She pulls her lips to the side. Crosses her arms. Uncrosses them. Puts her hands in her pockets. Takes them out.
It doesn’t look bad. But it feels more frumpy than anything.
“Hansollie!”
Seungkwan is early. She always lets herself in—because of course she has her own key—and heads directly to Hansol’s room if she doesn’t find her lounging in the living room. Meaning there’s no time to change before—
“Hansollie,” Seungkwan sings out again as she opens the door, appearing in the mirror behind her. “How…”
Her voice trails off, eyes widening as they look Hansol up and down through the reflection. Hansol crosses her arms across her chest, trying her best to look normal despite her growing discomfort as the silence stretches on. She refuses to turn around.
“Wow,” Seungkwan says finally, airy and soft.
“Wow… bad?”
Seungkwan gives her that look that suggests she’s said something stupid. Hansol knows it well.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you just want me to compliment you. Which I will, either way. Turn around.”
Hansol sighs and acquiesces, not wanting to fight it. Seungkwan would take it into her own hands, and she does not want Seungkwan’s hands on her bare waist.
Seungkwan nods, twisting her bleach-blonde hair around her finger as she scans over Hansol’s body. “Yeah, you look hot.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
In a sense, it’s what she wants to hear. But something about Seungkwan saying it almost unprompted makes her feel… is it uneasiness? It must be.
Seungkwan steps closer, reaching out to mess with Hansol’s collar. “This color is nice on you, too. You should wear it more often.”
“I don’t really own a lot of green,” Hansol replies, trying her best to not think too much about the compliment.
Seungkwan leans closer, tapping Hansol on the nose. “Guess that means we’re going shopping. But you do know it doesn’t matter what you wear, right?”
Hansol doesn’t know that, but starting a debate over this feels dangerous, so she says nothing.
Hansol remembers one night in particular that sort of triggered her current crisis.
It was Seungkwan’s birthday.
She’d wanted to go to karaoke, and Jihoon took it upon herself to book it before Hansol could offer, which felt a little suspicious, but whatever. Hansol could cover the drinks.
Hansol showed up a little bit late because of traffic, so most of the group had already arrived. Seungkwan stood up the moment Hansol caught her gaze across the room to greet her.
Hansol didn’t pregame, but she certainly felt like did as she took in Seungkwan’s appearance: a tiny sparkly navy blue dress, with straps so thin they’re almost invisible and a slit on the thigh, putting her toned legs on display. Her hair was permed, just a slight wave where it reached a bit past her shoulders.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Hansol glared at Jihoon, who wasn't even looking at her. She was staring at her phone.
“Ignore her. She’s just grumpy because Mingyu is running late.” Seungkwan didn’t acknowledge Jihoon’s protests, instead pulling Hansol into a hug, arms looped around her neck.
Hansol’s palm ended up on Seungkwan’s back, bare and warm and soft. It was already nearing being too warm in here. But also, how was Seungkwan not cold? It was the middle of January. That dress wasn’t meant for this weather, even if they were inside
“Happy birthday, Kwan-ah,” Hansol mumbled into Seungkwan’s ear. She frowned when Seungkwan shuddered in her arms after. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”
Seungkwan stepped back but kept her arms looped around Hansol’s neck, looking up at her with a pout. “Yes, I’m freezing. I think I’m underdressed.”
“You look really good, though.”
Someone at the table coughed loudly. Seungkwan rolled her eyes and let her arms fall to tug on Hansol’s jacket. Rather than take it off herself, Hansol let Seungkwan do it, leaving her in a muscle tee.
Seungkwan squeezed Hansol’s bicep before putting the jacket on. “Thank you, Hansollie.”
(Hansol knew she was never getting that jacket back. That’s okay, though: Seungkwan looks good in leather.)
“I’m sensing some favoritism,” Soonyoung sniffs. “You didn’t greet me even half as excitedly!”
“We came here together, unnie. And you’re annoying when you beg for it like this,” Seungkwan replied, flicking Soonyoung’s forehead. “Besides, it’s Hansol. She’s my favorite.”
The whole table did a shot in celebration of Hansol’s arrival at Seungkwan’s request—which Soonyoung, again, complained about not getting—which helped ease the nerves she couldn’t place the origin of. Even before the alcohol hit, though, she took comfort in being at Seungkwan’s side. She always does.
“How many ballads did I miss?” Hansol asked, putting her arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders.
Before Seungkwan could answer, Jisoo spoke up. “None, actually. She was waiting for you.”
“It’s true, I was there,” Jeonghan added, ever the instigator.
“Well.” Seungkwan blew her bangs out of her face. “I warmed up a little. I can’t go straight into the extreme ballads!”
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Jihoon mumbled.
“You can’t be mean to me. It’s my birthday!” Seungkwan grabbed Hansol’s hand, shaking it back and forth. “Hansol, tell them they can’t be mean to me.”
“I mean… You shouldn’t be mean to her on her birthday.”
“Here comes the guard dog,” Soonyoung murmured not-so-subtly out of the corner of her lips.
Seungkwan pretended to pet Hansol, hand slightly hovering over her head. “It’s mutual.”
Hansol poured herself another shot.
After another bottle and a few more songs, Seungkwan queued up “Good Girl, Bad Girl.” Soonyoung got up to sing backup, but Hansol was so focused on Seungkwan that she didn’t notice.
This ends up being what really tugged Hansol into her current… mindset.
Seungkwan, her best friend, objectively, is sexy.
Hansol is jealous.
That’s what she’s still feeling all these weeks later.
“Hansollie, did Jeonghannie ever send you the photos from my birthday?” Seungkwan asks suddenly.
She’s sitting across from Hansol, seemingly focused on grilling the meat. Hansol has been watching her hands intently. Just to make sure nothing burns.
She’s wearing the leather jacket. It’s never really mentioned. She wears it a lot, and Hansol never asks for it back. The first time this happened without a comment from Hansol, it must’ve emboldened Seungkwan, because the jacket now reappears at least twice a week, even when it’s too warm outside for it. Like Hansol has already acknowledged, it looks good on her. A little loose, too, which Hansol—whom it fit perfectly—refuses to make any comments on.
“Yeah, she did,” Hansol says. She wishes she could lie. That she could tell Seungkwan that they all got lost when Jeonghan dropped her phone in the pool without realizing it and left it there for hours.
Unfortunately, more often than not, she finds it impossible to lie to Seungkwan. She never really even wants to.
Jeonghan had sent the photos to her the morning after with a teasing note that Hansol had hardly processed, because the first photo alone triggered everything that happened to come back to her.
Seungkwan all but hanging off of Hansol. Seungkwan poking her cheeks. Seungkwan holding onto her bicep.
Hansol in Seungkwan’s lap: Seungkwan’s face buried in Hansol’s neck, Hansol wearing a smile that’s borderline smug. Hansol with her eyes closed, head on Seungkwan’s shoulder as Seungkwan sings.
Then there’s this picture of Hansol without Seungkwan, watching something off-screen with the biggest, dopiest smile she’s ever seen on herself.
There’s no question who she’d been watching.
The worst part about all of them is that Seungkwan looks really good. Like, if she wasn’t Hansol’s best friend…
She shakes herself out of that line of thinking, because where the hell was it about to go?
“Soooo… can you send them to me?” Seungkwan looks a little confused at how Hansol has suddenly zoned out.
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” She decidedly skips over the one of her by herself. It’s not like Seungkwan is in it, after all. “She only sent the ones of the two of us, so you might have to ask for the rest.”
Seungkwan hums, placing a piece of meat on Hansol’s plate. “These are the only ones I really want to see anyway. You’re cute when you’re drunk.”
Hansol wrinkles her nose at the word. Cute.
Seungkwan scoffs. “Yah, Hansollie, what did I tell you the other day?” She glances at her phone, smiling as she opens up the photo of Hansol sitting on her lap. “Your face gets all red, which is cute. But your arms in that sleeveless top are super sexy. These things can coexist! It’s called duality.”
Hansol wishes she was better at taking compliments. Although, Seungkwan has sort of always been like this. Why does it feel different, now?
“Eat your food,” Hansol replies, pointing her chopsticks toward Seungkwan’s plate. “It’s gonna get cold.”
Seungkwan sticks her tongue out, and Hansol mimics her. Once again, things feel easy.
Hansol is on a good streak with her kendama when Seungkwan asks:
“Can I do your makeup?”
Seungkwan is serious, Hansol realizes after accidentally laughing immediately, her streak coming to an end as she does. She scowls, turning away from Hansol and back towards the mirror she’s currently sitting cross-legged in front of.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just didn’t expect it. Why?” Hansol bends so she can be seen in the mirror, tilts her head, and juts out her bottom lip. “Do you think I’m ugly?”
“Yes, you’re absolutely hideous,” Seungkwan deadpans before throwing a pillow at Hansol’s head, which she narrowly misses. “Of course not. I just thought it could be fun.”
“Alright. Yeah, sure.”
Seungkwan raises her eyebrows. “Really?”
Hansol shrugs. “Why not?”
No more questions are asked. Seungkwan tugs Hansol down to the ground, instructing her to sit with her legs crossed. Seungkwan gets on her knees and sits back on her heels right in front of Hansol.
“I think right now, I’ll stick to more of the eye and lip areas, or else I’d have to make you go wash your face.” Seungkwan searches through her cosmetic bag—white pleather dotted with tiny tangerines and makeup stains—as she talks. “Besides, with that jawline?” Seungkwan sucks her teeth and shakes her head.
Hansol doesn’t know what that means, if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Judging by the light pink in Seungkwan’s cheeks, it might be a compliment. Or maybe she had been experimenting with blush earlier. Hansol had been locked in on her own thing, to be honest, so it’s possible she didn’t notice.
“Something simple?” Hansol asks, eyeing the large and colorful makeup pallet Seungkwan has just opened.
“Whatever you want,” Seungkwan murmurs.
It’s said gently. Hushed. Hansol had been expecting more of a tease. Maybe even Seungkwan adamantly saying she’d obviously never do anything super abstract and lying. The earnest words startle her, but the way Seungkwan’s cups Hansol’s chin and tilts her head slightly up shakes her to her core.
Why? She’s not touch starved. Seungkwan is always touchy. There’s absolutely nothing different about how Seungkwan is holding Hansol’s face in her palm, maneuvering it how she wants, telling her to stay still and close her eyes.
“Tell me what you’re doing?”
Seungkwan hums. “I’m gonna do a base layer before getting into the actual eyeshadow. It’s okay if you flinch, but try not to.”
Hansol, of course, flinches at the first touch of Seungkwan’s fingers. After that, she’s fine, but that may be partially due to the fact that her mind is running wild. Seungkwan is holding her face so gently.
Why does Hansol feel dizzy?
She barely registers Seungkwan explaining each step, focusing more on the sensation of the brushes on her eyelids, the fingers on her jaw.
“Open.”
Seungkwan is a lot closer than before. So close that Hansol’s eyes almost cross.
Seungkwan nods and sits back. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Mhm. Looks good, I mean. I guess you’re being a good makeup model too. Is that the term?”
“I don’t know,” Hansol replies, the words you’re being good repeating in her head like a skipping record.
Seungkwan is focused for the most part as she works, instructing Hansol to look up, close her eyes, blink. Simple instructions she doesn’t have to think about.
Whenever her eyes are open, she’s staring directly into Seungkwan’s. Seungkwan is, of course, locked in on her own task. Hansol has nothing in her view apart from Seungkwan’s round cheeks, the smooth bridge of her nose, her plump, parted lips. Seungkwan has pretty lips.
“Sollie?”
“What?” Hansol answers, a little shaken by how lost she just got in her own head.
“I asked if I could do your lips.”
“Do my…” Hansol then sees the dark rouge lip tint in Seungkwan’s hand and feels more than a little dumb for not processing what she meant immediately. What else could she possibly have meant? “Yeah. Sure.”
Seungkwan smirks like she’s won something. “Thank you for indulging me.”
No, thank you, Hansol thinks as Seungkwan’s left hand slides up to cup Hansol’s face, the right applying the lip color in gentle movements.
When Seungkwan’s finger brushes against her bottom lip to wipe away excess product, it hits Hansol.
She wants to kiss Seungkwan.
She thinks she might’ve always wanted to kiss Seungkwan.
Seungkwan leans back, and for a moment, Hansol is scared she’s said something out loud, or that Seungkwan can hear her thoughts.
But, no. Seungkwan is staring at her with a pleased expression, nodding to herself. “Yeah. You look good. Not that you needed it, but… see for yourself?”
Hansol looks in the mirror, noting her own appearance for half a second before looking for Seungkwan’s reflection. She’s staring at Hansol’s side profile. She feels like she shouldn’t turn to look at her. She can’t.
Seungkwan pulls out her phone and moves to take photos of them in the mirror. She taps her cheek, angling it toward Hansol.
Maybe she can read her thoughts.
“You want me to…?”
“Yes!” Seungkwan plants her hand on the floor in the space left inside Hansol’s crossed legs, leaning in closer. “C’mon. It’d be cute.”
Cute. Right. Of course.
She doesn’t let herself think about it too much. Instead, she leans in and pecks Seungkwan’s cheek.
There’s almost no mark left behind, though, and Hansol decides she doesn’t like that. So, before Seungkwan can complain about it and tell her to try again, she takes Seungkwan’s chin in her palm to keep her still as she firmly kisses her cheek again.
Seungkwan’s skin is soft.
When Hansol pulls back, a rush of air leaves Seungkwan. Was that too much?
This is all too much.
“Yup! Cute! Oh, it’s late, isn’t it? I should probably start heading home. Jeonghan hates when I get home super late. You know how she can get.”
The words are rushed and high-pitched, setting alarm bells off in Hansol’s head. “It’s not really that late, is it?” She asks as she checks her own phone. It’s barely nine pm.
“I have practice early tomorrow, too. Last minute schedule!” Seungkwan tacks on before Hansol can point out that she never has practice on Thursdays.
The lipstick print is stark against Seungkwan’s cheek, and she doesn’t wipe it away before she leaves.
The uneasy feeling she’s come to associate with some of Seungkwan’s antics sinks in again as she lays in bed, face washed of makeup.
Uneasiness? God. She can’t believe she’s been so ignorant. This is attraction, pure and strong and overwhelming. Calling it by its real name only seems to make it worse.
She plays tonight back in her head and can’t help but rewrite it a bit. What if Seungkwan had turned her head? What if Hansol had done it for her? Would her lips be as soft as her cheek was?
“Yeah. You look good.”
What if Seungkwan’s just telling her what she wants to hear?
Hansol groans and presses the heels of her hands against her eyelids. She tosses and turns for at least an hour before passing out, and dreams of nothing, for better or worse.
“Dude. Obviously.”
Jisoo looks completely unimpressed, which is so incredibly annoying, considering Hansol just divulged her newly discovered deepest secret.
“What do you mean ‘obviously’?”
“I mean, you guys have basically been dating for months. Years, even. And now I owe Jihoon twenty thousand won because she bet you would realize it first.”
“You placed bets on us?” Hansol has to take a deep breath. “Wait, you placed a bet against me?”
Jisoo shakes her head. “Not against you. I just expected Seungkwan to beat you to the punch.” She takes a long drink through the straw of her iced coffee before humming. “I’m really not trying to be rude, by the way. I’m just surprised it took this long.”
Hansol groans, head falling heavily onto the table. Jisoo pats her shoulder. “What do I do now? What if she thinks—”
“I swear to you on my life that nothing bad will happen if you tell her. In fact, I’ll swear on my girlfriend’s life, too.”
As if summoned, Soonyoung walks into the room. “What’re you sacrificing my life for? Oh, hey Hansol!” There’s a beat of silence, and Hansol is too scared to look up. “Oh. Well, damn. I owe Jihoon seventy-five thousand won.”
“Did you all bet on my downfall?” Hansol lifts her head, greeted by the sight of Soonyoung’s shit-eating grin. “Seventy-five thousand? Seriously?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “I wouldn’t say it’s your downfall. If anything, it’s your… rebirth? No, that’s not right either. Whatever.”
“Don’t tell anyone, please?” Hansol isn’t really a secretive person, but she can’t let this get back to Seungkwan, and gossip gets through the lesbian grapevine fast.
Jisoo’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around Hansol’s shoulders. “Of course. We’re here for you, you know that, right?”
“I do. Thank you.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“Do you trust me or not?”
“I do, but…” Hansol squints at her reflection. “Isn’t this a little much?”
The idea to go out tonight was made by both of them, but Hansol’s outfit? Entirely chosen by Seungkwan.
“Nope,” Seungkwan replies, popping the ‘p.’ “You gave me full authority. You wanted sexy, and trust me, this is sexy.”
Seungkwan had shown up earlier with a whole new outfit for Hansol, which she’d warns her about beforehand and promises she won’t be upset if Hansol doesn’t want to wear it. Hansol really hadn’t expected this.
A black waistcoat as a top. Nothing under it, nothing over it. It leaves her arms, stomach, and what feels like half her chest on display. The black cargos hang low on her hips. Now, Hansol doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the clothes at all. They’re new, unfamiliar, but not bad.
The difficult part is the fact that Seungkwan picked them for her. Seungkwan bought the outfit because she thought Hansol would look good in it. Because she wanted to see Hansol in it.
Seungkwan comes up right behind her and places her hands on Hansol’s waist, fingers drumming on her exposed stomach. Hansol hopes she can’t feel the breath she takes in, even though she can surely hear it.
“I almost want to keep you for myself.”
God. Hansol can’t keep doing this. She can’t keep acting normal around Seungkwan when she says shit like that and doesn’t think anything of it. Before she realized… well, everything, she would’ve bantered with her for a beat or two. At the very least, she wouldn’t have stood there silently staring at Seungkwan through the mirror like she is right now.
Seungkwan hums, squeezing Hansol’s sides before stepping away. “I’ll go get dressed, then we can head out. But if you’re really uncomfortable, you can change. I won’t be offended, okay?”
“Okay,” Hansol mumbles, staying right where she is until Seungkwan is ready.
Another thing that has gotten more difficult with her awareness of her attraction to Seungkwan is seeing her in her leather jacket. Especially when it’s just as long as, if not longer than, the mini dress Seungkwan is wearing.
“How am I supposed to look hot standing next to you?” Hansol mumbles as they exit their Uber, certainly not pouting. “Look at you.”
Seungkwan scoffs, fidgeting with the jacket’s zipper. “Yeah, right. You’re drunk.”
“We haven’t even…” Hansol swallows, voice trailing off as she notes how Seungkwan is looking up at her through her lashes. God dammit. “Are you ready, then?”
Linking her arm through Hansol’s, Seungkwan starts pulling them to the door. “Ready as ever.”
They’ve only been to this bar once: it’s a queer bar, so Hansol feels a little more secure. Seungkwan had insisted they go, saying that if anywhere is going to make Hansol realize how sexy she is, it’s a room full of lesbians.
“Everyone is looking at you already,” Seungkwan notes as they approach the bartop, still clinging to her arm. She doesn’t sound all that excited about it.
“Why’d you say it like it’s a bad thing?” Hansol asks.
Seungkwan orders their drinks—she doesn’t even have to ask what Hansol wants—before turning to face her. “Sorry, what? It’s too loud in here. I couldn’t hear you,” she says, her voice at the same volume as Hansol’s.
“I said, why’d you say it like it’s a bad thing?”
Seungkwan sighs, like she hadn’t anticipated Hansol actually repeating the question. “I didn’t! It was just an observation.”
“Okay,” Hansol replies, unsure of what to say to that.
“So,” Seungkwan starts, seemingly set on changing the topic. “Shall I find you someone to talk to?”
I only want to talk to you, idiot. “Uh. If you want. I don’t really need—”
“What about her?” Seungkwan nods in the direction of a woman across the bar as she takes a long sip of her vodka cranberry.
Hansol locks eyes with the woman Seungkwan is talking about, and of course, it’s an old classmate of hers.
“Hansol?” Seungyoun calls out, hurrying toward her with a grin. “It’s been so long! How are you?”
Seungyoun and her were friends in the sense that whenever they had projects, they’d team up. They hung out a few times outside of class, but after graduation, any communication was limited to liking each other’s Instagram stories.
“Hey, Seungyoun.”
“Oh? You know each other?” Seungkwan asks, looking between them with slightly narrowed eyes. “I don’t remember hearing about a Seungyoun.”
Seungyoun’s hands come to her chest dramatically. “Ah, I’m wounded Hansol-ah. We were classmates. You must be Seungkwan?”
Hansol blinks. “How’d…”
“Oh? Did you talk about me, Hansollie?” Seungkwan croons, leaning in to rest her chin on Hansol’s shoulder.
Seungyoun answers before Hansol can get a word out. “That, and I see your posts on Instagram. You guys are cute together!”
Oh, god.
“Oh!” Seungkwan’s voice is high, almost squeaky. “Oh, we’re absolutely not… Actually, I was nodding toward you to get her to go talk to you. You guys should go dance! This song is really good. Go!”
Something is off. Hansol knows Seungkwan well enough to know her smile isn’t authentic. “Are you sure?”
“Of course! Go catch up! You look good together.”
Seungyoun is looking between them with wide eyes before settling her gaze on Hansol. “Well, if you want?”
Hansol downs half her drink before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”
She can’t look back at Seungkwan as they walk off to the dancefloor.
“She’s intense,” Seungyoun notes immediately. “Are you sure you want to dance? You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m confused,” Hansol confesses, but lets Seungyoun rest her hands on her hips. “But one song can’t hurt.”
Seungyoun frowns. “If you’re sure. It is good to see you though.”
“It’s good to see you too. I know you’ve been keeping up with music.”
“I have!” Seungyoun lights up. “I think it’s picking up some traction. Hey, if you ever want to hop on a track, I’d love to have you.”
“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Hansol says, and she means it. She feels a little more comfortable now, but she can’t shake the residual uncertainty. Especially when she notes how Seungyoun’s eyes keep flitting to something behind Hansol. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just your not-girlfriend trying to light me on fire with her eyes.”
That can’t be right. Seungkwan had encouraged her to do this. “She’s just… protective?”
Seungyoun looks unconvinced and unimpressed. “Hansol. I thought you guys were dating, Seungkwan is actively plotting my death, and your thoughts are definitely elsewhere. Now, while I don’t mind being a plot device in your love story, I’m starting to get a little scared…”
Her voice trails off, and before Hansol can ask what’s wrong, a hand that isn’t Seungyoun’s lands on her waist.
“I hate to break this up, but I’m starting to feel a little sick. I think my period is starting. Can we go?”
To Hansol’s chagrin, Seungyoun smirks, suddenly looking a bit impish. “We’re having so much fun, though.”
“Yeah, well, you can go out again later. We have a buddy system.” Seungkwan’s breath is warm on Hansol’s neck. “Right, Hansollie?”
Hansol’s head is spinning a little bit. “Uh. Yeah. Okay. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll reach out soon. Be safe, alright?”
There’s a certain undertone to those words that Hansol doesn’t get the chance to begin unpacking before Seungkwan is pulling her out of the bar.
“Hey, Seungkwan, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Seungkwan breathes out through gritted teeth. “Except the cramps.”
“Our cycles are synced. What’s actually wrong? It was your idea to come here.”
Seungkwan ignores her, instead pulling out her phone. Hansol notices that Seungkwan’s lockscreen is still a silly selfie she’d taken when Seungkwan had left her phone at Hansol’s place. Since she knew the password, she’d set the picture as her lockscreen as a prank.
It’s been at least a month now.
“I don’t like this, Seungkwan-ah. I don’t get why—”
“It really doesn’t matter, Hansol.”
“Clearly it does matter, because now you’re starting to take it out on me.”
Seungkwan slumps against the brick wall of the bar, those words seeming to bring her down a bit. “I’m not trying… I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can tell you. You won’t like it.”
“I know that you know that I’d like anything more than being left in the dark about why you’re upset with me.” Hansol is almost begging at this point, because usually she feels pretty in tune with Seungkwan’s emotions. “If I did something—”
“I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself, because I couldn’t put my feelings aside for five fucking minutes to help you out.”
Her feelings?
“I wanted to help you understand how attractive you are. I really wanted to. But I’m selfish.” Seungkwan pulls the jacket—Hansol’s jacket—tight around herself. “Because I want to keep you for myself.”
“Like…” Hansol tilts her head back to the sky, which is starless and murky. “Like as a friend?”
The laugh Seungkwan lets out is forced and discomfiting. “I don’t know what the right answer would be to that.”
“The true one? I feel like that’s pretty… um. Standard.”
The way Seungkwan is watching her is sending her brain haywire. Like a prey animal tracking a predator’s movements, figuring out if they need to flee. Hansol and her are basically the same height, but the way Seungkwan is slumped against the wall has her looking up at Hansol in the way that always gets to her.
“Then… no. Not as a friend.”
“So as…”
Seungkwan groans. “You’re so stupid. I hate that I find that kind of hot too. Hansol, I want you. Like, as more than a friend. I really thought it was obvious and you were pretending not to know.” She glances at her phone, then back at Hansol. “The driver is almost here. Am I going alone or are we going together?” Despite the confident words, her voice is wavering.
Hansol does the only thing she can think of at the moment.
Bracing one hand on the wall beside Seungkwan’s head, she leans in, but stops at the last second. She isn’t going to kiss Seungkwan just like that. There’s still a good chance she’s misread—
Seungkwan grabs Hansol’s face and pulls her the rest of the way down.
Hansol gasps into it, hands falling to Seungkwan’s waist and pulling her closer. The leather of her jacket is soft under Hansol’s fingers. Her mouth tastes like cranberry. Her hands slide down the sides of Hansol’s neck and rest on her shoulders, thumbs brushing her collarbones. Have her collarbones always been this sensitive? God.
“Hansollie,” Seungkwan croons, voice pitched low in a way that makes Hansol want to collapse. “The Uber is here.”
Right. They’re in public. Thank god they’re in a queer space right now.
“Are you coming with? I actually put your address in.”
As if Hansol would say no either way.
But as they drive in near silence—either the driver saw what they’d been doing outside and wasn’t interested in getting involved, or they just didn’t want conversation—Hansol replays the events of tonight. The uneasiness she feels this time isn’t just her relabeling her attraction. This is genuine, and she doesn’t know how to voice it. Especially when Seungkwan’s hand is warm on her thigh. At least the ride is short.
“What’s wrong?” Seungkwan asks as soon as her front door closes behind them.
Hansol needs to stop forgetting that this is Seungkwan, who could probably guess Hansol’s mood by the sound of her breathing. Honesty is always the best route. “I don’t know. What are we doing?”
Seungkwan pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I… don’t know. I didn’t really see this coming. And I have had a little bit of vodka.”
That stokes the embers of unease in Hansol’s chest. “You aren’t just… Like, this isn’t just because you’re drunk? You’re serious?”
Without saying anything, Seungkwan crashes against Hansol, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “Don’t be stupid. I had half a drink. I still would rather be sober for…” Seungkwan pulls back a bit to look at Hansol, and her cheeks are an adorable shade of pink. “For anything.”
Hansol can’t even relish in seeing flustered Seungkwan, because she feels equally as unsteady. She refuses to mess this up.
“Can we just… go get ready for bed?”
Seungkwan’s shoulders relax as she smiles. “Yeah. I’m stealing your pjs though.”
As if Hansol would argue against it. Hansol would prefer it, actually. She makes no comment as Seungkwan claims one of her oversized shirts and a pair of boxer shorts, taking them into the bathroom with her. Hansol knows she’ll be washing her face—she has travel-sized bottles of all her products stashed in there—and will probably take a while, so she goes ahead and gets in comfy clothes as well.
Seungkwan emerges from the bathroom, and the shirt she’d picked out was one Hansol had been given for her birthday that reads “I love dominant women.” One slip during a wine night had Jihoon and Soonyoung giggling and scheming. For all Jihoon likes to pretend she’s the most normal of them, she sure is devilish.
“Remember this?” Seungkwan chirps, plucking at the fabric of the shirt that reaches just above where the boxers end.
Hansol is only momentarily distracted by Seungkwan’s thighs. Seungkwan in Hansol’s clothes.
Seungkwan stares down at her where she sits on the bed, walking to stand between her legs.
“Yeah,” Hansol replies simply, already knowing what Seungkwan is trying to do.
“Is it still true?”
Hansol sighs and pushes herself further up the bed, away from Seungkwan, if only to stop herself from getting too handsy. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I would!” Seungkwan sings back, crawling up the bed after her.
She ends up curled against Hansol’s back, arms wrapped around her. Hansol takes hold of Seungkwan’s hands and fidgets with her fingers and really, nothing feels all that different. Now, she can pull Seungkwan’s knuckles to her lips and smile when the blonde lets out a breath, hot against her nape.
“I’m so happy,” Hansol whispers.
Seungkwan kisses the back of her neck before nuzzling into it, taking a deep breath. “You smell good.”
“I smell like the bar.”
“You smell like you. Shut up, I’m being romantic.”
Seungkwan smells like vanilla from her lotion, sweet and warm and familiar. Hansol hopes sleep comes easy so she can ask Seungkwan to be her girlfriend the second she wakes up.
“Goodnight, Seungkwan-ah.”
Hansol can hear the smile in Seungkwan’s voice as she replies, “Goodnight, Hansollie.”
Seungkwan just laughs when she finds out about the bet, putting her hand on top of Soonyoung’s to stop her counting of money. “Really, Jihoon owes you guys money. I realized a long time ago. Ask Jeonghan!”
Jeonghan nods. “It’s been at least a year.”
“A year?” Hansol asks incredulously.
“All I did to push you two together, and now…” Jihoon scoffs, pushing Soonyoung’s face away where it’d come up close to tease her. “Fine. I’ll Zelle you.”
“Yippee!”
Seungkwan shakes her head and smiles up at Hansol. “I’m glad you finally caught up.”
“Yeah, Hansol’s says, a bit dazed by the new information. “Me too.”