Work Text:
Yizhuo said, "More abs!" as she drummed on them while they hung out a park with Minjeong's head on her lap. "More cleavage, too!" She also said that Jimin unnie is "too polite" and "morally principled" to do anything decisive and real so Minjeong would have to make her, by the simple virtue of being too fucking hot to handle. "Remind her that it isn't just her who wants you, Minjeong! There are people out there who would do anything you ask. You don't even have to be nice about it. That's how hot you are. Don't let one unnie stop you from weaponizing your powers."
Yizhuo was radicalized. "Slut yourself out for love!" she chanted encouragingly. She always means best, and she's always right when it comes to reading people and knowing what to do. She has a certain lackadaisical, nonchalant regard that makes it easy. She simply doesn't give a fuck. Or maybe she's fed up with watching Minjeong pine and wait for something to happen after practically asking for it for years.
But it's gonna change. Minjeong swears it's gonna change.
One hot outfit at a time.
"Woah," Jimin exhales, breathless, the heavy weight of dark eyes cascading on her with a slow drag. She leans against her doorframe, at leisure. Like a queen on her throne.
Minjeong's heart races, faster, clamoring. "Too much?" she shyly asks, looking at herself in the mirror. Her makeup is darker, her eyeshadow a slight smudged blend of black and silver, shimmery but smoldering. She keeps her lips glossy and pink, freshly applied and sticky. Her short skirt gently falls, resting over the swell of her ass, just only covering it. The defined lines of her collarbone are adorned by spaghetti straps, silk and lace in a cropped top that does everything to show the soft curve of her waist, the contour of her abs. It's more than she usually shows, especially around Jimin who used to see her every other season. Far cry from the Minjeong who lived in school uniforms if it concerned the older girl. She twists her fingers, nervous. Maybe it is too much. Maybe she looks desperate.
"No," Jimin's eyes widen, voice coming out gruff and low, "It's perfect. You'll fit right in." She smiles, different from the polite ones she's thrown at her in the past, a little cool smirk, sleazy, and flirts with a beckoning finger. "But everyone's only gonna see you." With sure steps, she comes closer, bending lower over her shoulder to talk by her ear in a mischievous lilt, playful, like it isn't going to light her on fire with something ravenous and unmanageable. "Think I'm gonna have to be next to you like your little guard dog to make sure you get your own space. Make sure none of my greedy friends think you're for them."
Tension fizzles out of Minjeong's shoulders, a giddy giggle and gummy smile bubbling out from her lips. A red hot blush turns her cheeks pinker underneath her foundation, bright on the tips of her ears like flashing lights calling for attention. She dissolves into a puddle, head tilting away bashfully underneath Jimin's relentless smile—those expressive eyes that tell Minjeong she isn't crazy for imagining something with her.
It's dangerous. She shakes her head like it'll clear the fog, pulling herself together because her crush shouldn't see her be so fucking pathetic for her. "And what?" she challenges, looking at the older girl in the mirror with a defiant smirk, "What're you gonna do if they get their hands on me?"
Jimin laughs, as if she's charmed by her resistance. "If you wanted it, it's none of my business, but they're not any better than me." Dark eyes stare back at her, intense and magnetized, like there was nothing but them in the universe. The space between them feels like another universe of its own, a pocket where Jimin dared her to jump first. Her hands stay coolly tucked in her pockets, satin in her voice as she comes even closer, the heat of her breath skimming along her back. "If you wanted me to touch you, tell me I can." For a flutter of a moment, her mighty restraint gives in for nothing but a wavering of her knees that presses the gentle swell of her chest against Minjeong's back. She allows a shameless indulgent inhale of her scent, almost nuzzling into her neck, and murmurs with an airy sigh, "No need to be guard dog when I can just be yours. Unnie knows you better than any of 'em."
Everything in Minjeong crumbles, her breath hitching with a little gasp. She hadn't planned on Jimin biting now. She had tonight planned. She was going to show up, fashionably late and hot as hell, confident and energetic. She was going to charm and flirt and have fun, do all the things that it'd take to become the center of Jimin's orbit in a crowded room.
But there they were, Jimin chivalrously coming to pick her up, coolly revolving around her with a composure so infallible that it didn't feel right for the hungry wanting that stared back at her in the mirror.
"Always thought you were really cute, what with your squishy cheeks and bright eyes. I've always wanted to spoil you, and I have. I know you're a good kid." Jimin laughs, messing with her hair sheepishly and correcting herself. "We're not kids anymore. The way you're makin' me feel, how quickly I need to realize it. I can't be patient. I'd be kicking myself if I didn't try my best."
Jimin doesn't say anything when Minjeong leans back into her, the full press of heat on her skin, scantily muffled by the clothes she wears. It almost feels like she muzzles herself from saying anything the way she pauses on a thought. She stays steady, the slow drags of air she brings in and the rise and fall of her chest. After an infinite second, she asks quietly, "Would you let me?" stopping herself from nuzzling into her with a chastised grimace like it hurt to hold back. Her hands stay in her pocket, hidden, and Minjeong wonders if that's the only thing stopping Jimin from touching her. "Would you let unnie be yours?"
Minjeong stutters on a short breath, unfamiliar with this side of Jimin that wants and chases, pursues with shameless intent. "All mine?" she sighs, breathy, nose grazing Jimin's cheek, feeling as Jimin's chest heaved under her back, watching her unnie unravel in shapes of hitched gasps and a ravenous gaze.
Not as put together as she makes herself seem. Obtainable. A malleable woman that may wrap around her finger if Minjeong curled her the right way. It feels dangerous to play these games with Jimin—with someone who could unravel her.
The mischievous twinkle in Jimin's eye turns into a playground of stars, a smile so blinding that Minjeong wonders if this is the first time she's seen Jimin smile at her like a miracle, like she actually has someone to hold onto and not just a figment of her dreams.
"Comes with a hand on your waist at all times. Maybe more. I don't like when my space is encroached without my permission—and your space is mine. I'm all yours if you can handle that."
Handle that?
It's not like Minjeong's been making grabbing hands saying, "Gimme! Gimme!" but she's close. Begging Jimin to be her first kiss should be a synonym of that, but Minjeong's different from the high schooler she used to be—the one with an infatuated crush on her senior, coming back to her like a bad habit every time Minjeong thought she escaped from her orbit.
It's not really a crush anymore and Minjeong's putting herself in Jimin's spaces just for her to look at her, notice her. She isn't the same school girl she knew her as, she's become more than that. But, does it mean that Jimin's always seen her? The way she looks at her like something in her was eating away at her for longer than she knew, slowly crumbling apart and eroding, so devastatingly human and beautiful—it's like she had turned that wanting into something she could wear under her skin like a soul.
Like scolding a dog, Minjeong teases the older girl, cuddling even more into her larger frame with a content smile, the press of her waist on hers. "Unnie, since when did you want me?"
Jimin laughs again, but this time, it's softer. Real. Affectionate. She hooks her chin on her shoulder, round eyes looking up at her, shamelessly enraptured. "Remember when you were suspended for a few days for starting a food fight?"
Minjeong groans at the memory, a guiltless grin quickly growing on her face. "So worth the detention. It was so epic; Ningie still talks about it like it happened yesterday."
"Well," Jimin laughs in chimes, "that's when. Even when I was supposed to discipline you after like a seondobu should, I couldn't." Her flirtatious pretense turns tender, nostalgic in a way. "You seemed to notice my world falling apart when I didn't get into SNU. All the questions I didn't want to answer, all the people I didn't want to entertain. And you went and provoked the best person to instigate. I couldn't get you in trouble for trying to cheering me up."
Mumbling, Minjeong flusters at being caught, so plainly explained like she didn't spend several business days condensed into meager seconds to decide if becoming the school's spectacle and getting trouble from it would be worth saving Jimin the headache.
(Obviously, she decided its worth everything so she doesn't regret the delinquency on her record. Plus, it was fun to piss Beomgyu off and make up for it by giving him the occasion to make the most of the chaos.
She got a week's worth of detention and cleaning, but Jimin looked so relieved, so momentarily free from the heartache when she smiled at her. It was quick. Maybe not even enough to call it hers, but she had been looking at her. Soft and warm, like a ray of light, gentle amidst the chaos. So, Minjeong likes to believe it's theirs.)
"That's not true," she lies, just a slight drawl away from a whine and far too bashful to be taken seriously. "I just wanted to piss Beomgyu off. He was annoying me."
"Hah," Jimin laughs quietly, her lips in a purse that says, "I know you're lying." She scrutinizes her. "I annoy you all the time and you don't do that."
Minjeong rolls her eyes.
Yeah. She just falls in love with her. Jimin practically ragebaited her way into her heart.
"What?" Jimin turns to her, furrowed brow and no longer soft or joking and sobering and serious.
Oop.
Did she just say that out loud?
"Um." Minjeong hums, gulping, just short of pulling a sound with it. "I didn't say that."
"Uh. Yes, you did." The older woman asserts, frown tugging deeper. "You totally just said you love me."
"No, I didn't."
"You so did." Jimin splits into a grin, the one that reminds Minjeong of a happy kitty and it's so painfully Jiminie and precious that Minjeong crumbles again.
Like she always does.
"That means I can touch, right?" Jimin's eyebrows wiggle and it reminds her of Shin Chan, reminds Minjeong of all the times she's heard Jimin making jokes in that voice, remembers this is the same unnie she'd probably never get over. "I've been wanting you for a long time."
Minjeong scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
Jimin balks. "What?!"
"I just said I love you and you're not saying it back?! What the hell?"
"You said you didn't say that!" Jimin points at her like she just sentenced her, a lawyer so sure of her case. "Tell me you love me properly and then I'll say it back."
Minjeong squints, turning Jimin into a slit in her eyes. "Saying it back implies you do, dumbass."
Jimin shrugs, faultless. "Then you can live without hearing it if unnie doesn't hear you saying it properly."
"Why're you so annoying?!" Minjeong refutes instead, glaring.
"'Cause it makes you love me," Jimin answers, cheeks full of amusement and unbridled joy.
Minjeong's hand presses into Jimin's chest, pushing her away with a scoff. Jimin's laughter follows after her like a shadow, her step behind her heel. "C'mon, Minjeongie." She catches the hem of her skirt in her hand, pulling with a soft tug when Minjeong lapses for a moment and stops. Her pitiful eyes, like a wounded puppy, pout at her. "Please? I wanna hear it. Can't you tell me you love me?"
"Behave and maybe I will."
Jimin's jaw drops, gaping at her audacity.
"Dangling my feelings over my head," Jimin clicks her tongue, shaking her head. "What's unnie done to be teased like this?"
All Minjeong seems to do with Jimin is roll her eyes when she's annoying her. She just knows how to get under her skin. It's why she loves her. No one seems to make her feel more alive than Jimin.
"For making me watch you with all those girls from before. For a night, I think unnie should know how that feels."
Jimin hardens. Steely. Doesn’t help with her heels the way she usually would, struck frozen by the thought. "What?"
"No touching. Only when I say. I choose who I hang around and you can't scare them off with your glare. I want to have fun tonight." Minjeong straps her heels to her feet, rising the inches it takes to meet Jimin's eye level, so nonchalant despite her racing heart, "Can unnie handle it?"
Jimin only stalls for a whisper of a breath, a second that feels too long. But not long enough for Minjeong to overthink and doubt the game she’s started to play. She stalls just enough to make her squirm and put her on edge. It’s enough to tell Minjeong she’s found herself an eager participant to her games.
“I can handle you." Jimin edges closer, tip of her nose brushing hers, determined and irritatingly cocky. "Do your worst."
-
It's supposed to start at a pocha bar. The night is lit by shops and signs, the zest of life bright and jumping as the street crawled with people. It's noisy with all the chit-chat, the lives of hardworking people at rest and leisure.
Jimin does, in fact, escort her through the area like a guard dog. Her demeanor is even and cool, rippling with a grin when someone—practically everyone—greets her, stopping her for a second of conversation, friends and wandering eyes excited to see Yu Jimin grace the place. They all scatter behind her, finding Minjeong, and some linger longer than others, hungrier than others, and Minjeong kind of loves the attention, loves how Jimin stays even closer, subtly blocking their view like Minjeong wouldn’t call her out on it later.
She persistently stayed in front of her, shouldering through and making paths part, never anything more than a pace ahead, looking back for her like she feared someone would pluck her away from behind her back.
Something like an unfair takeover, Jimin and her friends—friends of friends, and friends of those friends—have taken a scattered array of tables and chairs, the pocha tent filled with them. Already, green glass bottles have been emptied, loosened smiles welcoming them as Minjeong kept her gaze trained on the broad shoulders in front of her. As space narrows, Jimin's finger hooks into the front band of her skirt—not naughty, but like a tether, or a leash—as she leads.
Minjeong definitely doesn't stare, doesn't feel the warmth of her hand like a brand, nothing but a finger burning her skin with a lick of fire.
Why she isn't allowing herself to be all over her unnie is beyond her, but maybe the spite of jealousy is stronger than the stupid craving to be touched. Her pettiness wouldn't have breathed if Jimin smothered it right in the first place, Minjeong thinks to herself with a huff, her arms crossing subconsciously as her brows furrowed softly.
She's supposed to be cool. Supposed to not want her like it’ll kill her to be without her. Jimin made her cry without knowing it and it felt worse—that Minjeong suffered alone, silently, and her unnie was none the wiser. Surely, it's petty and unfair to blame Jimin for something she doesn't know about, and something Minjeong would hide despite teeth being pried from out of her mouth, but Minjeong was never an easy person to understand.
Only a sparse few could be stubborn enough to fight to know her, because for some god forsaken reason, Minjeong protects herself in a shroud of questions and mystery and conflicting pathways that don't make sense.
Except, Jimin managed to know her without breaking a single thing inside her, so damn charming and sincere and exuberant that Jimin moved like light, casting the golden hue of her soul until Minjeong found it dark in places Jimin hadn't touched—found that she quite liked being known and understood if it meant having Jimin's heart comforting hers in the quiet way it does.
Minjeong could only be just as clueless to the ways Jimin would change her, change love for her. Dating was never a successful feat. Girls come and go, all pretty and sweet and soft, but none just as exhilarating or tempting as the first person Minjeong wanted.
It was unfair, truly. Jimin is a golden standard across all boards, probably universally and in every shape of the universe. She’s remarkably kind, unbelievably hardworking, funny with a gorgeous face to go with her terrible jokes and silly humor. Jimin’s existence feels like a multitude of its own and maybe Minjeong is just one of those people in that garden Jimin has, full with affection and attention and adoration from the people she shines on.
And yet, the sun has turned its face to her, had let her into her heart without Minjeong knowing or noticing and it's only getting harder to unstick herself from her unnie. Could she even pretend to entertain anyone else if Jimin was all she wanted?
She'd only have to because one of Jimin's old flings wave at her, batting eyelashes and fluttering fingers, blushing and inviting. Infuriatingly beautiful. Minjeong scowls as Jimin nicely responds with a smile no different than the ones she had shared before with her friends.
Minjeong's easily reminded of why she's being like this—difficult. The reminiscent hot anger sits behind her eyelids, narrowing her vision, the nausea of jealousy right back in her belly and coating her throat.
She kind of hates that everyone loves Jimin. Or that so many other people know what that part of Jimin is like before her. Some part of her feels neglected and rejected, that it took growing up for Jimin to take her seriously. It's irrational, but the way Jimin made her feel as she suffered was irrational. She turned her inside out without touching her and somehow, Minjeong is craving that touch—her hands, her arms, her entire body and being.
It's hard feeling both of this as once. Minjeong is decidedly blaming Jimin for this, too, and adds it to the list of grievances she has out for her. Being obsessed with her unnie can wait a night. And Minjeong effectively makes this decision as one of Jimin's friends find her behind Jimin's back, practically breaking her neck to have a better look—round eyes becoming sparkly like a kid in a candy store.
"Jimin-ah," she cheers, looking directly at Minjeong, "and you?" she lilts in a question mark, moving people aside just to come closer. Eager, playful. It's cute how shameless it is. It's cute how her cheeks wrinkle with whiskered dimples when she smiles, charming as she warmly greeted Jimin again with a hug.
"I'm Minjeong," she giggles, an amused smile to come with it. It does not delight her heart (it does) to see Jimin's lips flap uselessly, like she was about to introduce her. She doesn't want to give her the choice. "It's my first year at Ewha. I'm unnie's dongsaeng back at home."
Jimin grumbles under her breath. Unintelligible, but Minjeong thinks she mimics her sarcastically, "Dongsaeng…like we never had our tongues in each other's throats."
Minjeong flusters scarlet without her permission. Their first kiss was not their only even if it was only a single night in Minjeong's life when she kissed her.
(One thing led to another, and Jimin never felt more human to her, trying to play chivalrous and polite and stop it at one, like it was something she helped check off her list. Only to be the one to push Minjeong against her door, licking into her mouth with her hot tongue because something in her couldn't stop. Minjeong just needed to pout, sulky, needed to doubt if her unnie liked it for Jimin to prove that she more than loved it. And when she had kissed her again, not without taking her breath, it didn't matter if she kept kissing her. It was inconsequential to her at that point—and Minjeong loved being Jimin's undoing. Even if it was once.
It only takes a night to keep Minjeong in Jimin's orbit. Singular did not mean small and menial. It changed life as she knew it.)
Looking at her friend and Jimin side by side, the numerous people around them started to make sense. Jimin's extroversion naturally magnetized the air and people around her. Minjeong knew that firsthand. But there was something about her friend's confidence—quiet but refined. There was a warmth to her and it was already easy to exist with her, become comfortable. Maybe Jimin's conditioned her into thinking pretty girls bring comfort. Or maybe she's just that personable—it could be both.
Either way, something is working and the night turns ever in her favor. It's rare someone else could catch her eye like this.
"Jimin didn't get to you?" her friend teases, snickering. "She has a thing for cute girls like you." She leans closer, whispering in a voice that was far from a whisper, "I'm Aeri. I like cute girls, too."
Jimin's finger, no longer hooked in her skirt, is part of a balled fist, the flicker of a glare twisting her face with disgust. Unexpectedly, thrillingly, Minjeong's heart stumbles into a sprint, racing. Addicting.
Maybe it'll be worth it. Minjeong hates being reminded that other cute girls existed to Jimin.
Maybe it'll be fun to piss her unnie off.
She looks hot when she's mad. And Aeri's plenty easy on the eyes, too.
It's a win-win when Minjeong thinks about it.
Putting off her yearning, desire turned into something else—shaped into something defiant and rebellious. Did love also look like this? Ugly but delicious and tempting all at once? Minjeong couldn't help but to dwell, indulge.
"Jiminie unnie hasn't," she winks, coy and playful, too flirty for it to come off innocent. "Not yet, at least."
Her friend stares at Jimin, dry and judging, like she can't believe odds have tilted her way. She shrugs like it's all up to her. "Unnie'll take you off her hands," she says, grinning and sweeping her away with a gentle gust, tucked under her shoulder. And truthfully, to Minjeong, despite the circumstances, it's never a bad place to be when every unnie is pretty—and this one is especially pretty. Aeri shoos Jimin away with a wave of her long fingers. "Jiminie has to make her rounds anyway. She can't help being popular; all the important people are here."
Minjeong scoffs with an arched brow, teasing, and watching as Jimin reluctantly slunk away with a pout, "Important people being you?"
"Your words, not mine," Aeri gestures with gently pursed lips, like she can't be blamed, faultless. "You can decide that."
This coyness, this taste of a push and a pull, Minjeong grins, relishing in it. She never feels this kind of excitement with other people outside of Jimin.
Fun.
Even better, Aeri's made it all that easier coming to her first and taking her away from Jimin in one fell swoop, sending her off to dejectedly watch as Aeri turned all her attention to her, taking the place she wanted to have all on her own.
Minjeong's mind was already made—and Aeri seems to know she's playing with fire, helping her scheme just by coming onto her. It's too irresistible. It's all set up for her like a princess coming to her royal dinner.
It seems the odds were never in Jimin's favor.
-
Much to Jimin's chagrin and horror, Aeri is perfect company. She picks them well, Minjeong supposes. The similarities are all there despite the differences. If not for the stories Aeri is regaling, Jimin had mentioned this friend of hers enough for Minjeong to know who it was before Aeri ever introduced herself. She reveals herself in shades of laughter, witty jokes and smart quips, a master at keeping her hand of cards to herself whilst revealing everything.
35% torso and head, 65% legs. Minjeong loved every bit of it. Call her thoroughly entertained, especially when Aeri catches her watching Jimin—a nasty habit.
(It's another thing like Jimin—another thing about the people Jimin meets and chooses. Intentional, intelligent, observant, and full of sense.)
"I'm surprised you haven't left," Aeri says as she pours out soju shots for them, drilling an analytical look at her.
Minjeong's weighted stare back is a retort of its own, raising her shot glass as an answer.
Humored, Aeri laughs, clinking her glass and throwing her head back with a graceful tip, "I like that. Fine, I'll let you pass."
The taste is bitter despite the artificial hint of green apple. Minjeong rather strawberry, but beggars can't be choosers.
Soju makes Minjeong think of Jimin because she snuck her a bottle the night they celebrated her graduation. It was the first time she drank, the first time she did something she wasn't supposed to with her unnie instead of for her unnie.
Soju makes her think of Jimin because Jimin's lips were sweetened by Milkis, the bitterness of soju on the back of her tongue. First soju, first kiss.
But here, Minjeong thinks of Aeri, thinks of how easily she's unfolding her with nothing but her eyes. Inquisitive, but not intrusive, asking the right questions. Ones that don't scare her off, but ones that keep her intrigued.
"We should make her jealous." Aeri smirks, pouring another round of shots. "Jimin's talked a lot about someone back at home. Whined way too much about missing out and threatening suitors she doesn't know exists. You check the boxes. Small," she lists, her eyes looking up and down, "cute. Unexpectedly sexy."
Minjeong laughs at that, blushing red.
"Is that you thinking that about me or my unnie?"
Aeri answers with a raised shot glass, another clink, and another gulp. Another round when Minjeong pours out shots. Polite, with etiquette and everything, looking away when they take their third round together.
"Does it matter what any of us think, Minjeongie?" Aeri props her chin in her hand, chic, cool. "You came dressed like this." Lithe fingers play with the hem of her skirt, just innocent enough for Minjeong to fight off the shivers and goosebumps. "You already know how you can affect people."
Emboldened by the alcohol, Minjeong brazenly rolls her eyes. "It matters that I wanna hear it."
Aeri's eyebrow arches, reading her, making another page of notes in her mind. "Then, making her jealous matters." She moves and leans closer, soft lips grazing the shell of her ear. "What do you say, Minjeongie? I'm just looking for some fun."
So close that even a little tilt brings their lips closer, Minjeong doesn't shy away from the heat that emanates from Aeri's body. It's hard to look at anything that isn't her lips—glossy, pink, soft like satin, tempting. Minjeong can't be blamed for this tunnel vision. She's seen Jimin do worse. "Fun's exactly what I'm looking for," she softly murmurs, suddenly aware of the pull Aeri has on her—how she doesn't care to move away.
It'd be so messy to kiss Jimin's best friend. It'd be so fucked up. But Jimin shouldn't have friends so hot and attentive and keen. That's exactly Minjeong's type—no offense to the extraordinary hold her unnie has on her; Jimin is no outlier to her preferences.
But Minjeong doesn't have the chance to answer, much less kiss her, when the weight of someone crashes down next to her, slumping into her and rubbing against her shoulder.
"Hope you didn't miss me!" Jimin grins boxily, far too tight and strained for Minjeong to believe this boisterous interruption was accidental and mindless. She must've seen enough. "I'm back," she says, a little more terse, coldly glaring at Aeri.
Aeri pulls away, no longer in Minjeong's space, and pours out three shots. "Just getting to know your dongsaeng," she says, a little pressure behind her last word like she unpacked years' worth of pining in that one interaction. "Dunno how you left someone like her back," she raises her glass, a challenging look as she stares at the older girl. "I'd have taken her in my suitcase."
Minjeong giggles at the absurdity. Jimin does not. Her lips flatten into a thin line, doing that thing where she blots with a crisp pop, her normally rounded eyes sharpened into a glinting glare. She'd be mad if it were anyone else.
"You know I hated leaving her behind," Jimin argues petulantly, a little childish. It's enough for Minjeong to know Aeri can jab without walls scaling high to protect herself and hide. It's enough to know that whatever Aeri's doing, is meant best—despite how it comes off.
"Good thing you're here with us," Aeri raises her glass. "To Minjeong. For graduating and following your annoying ass unnie to Ewha."
"Hey!" Jimin whines indignantly. "I'm not annoying!"
Minjeong's glare makes her shrivel a little, bashful, mischievous smile still audacious enough to form on her lips. "I ragebait you because you're cute. You can't blame me. Blame yourself for being too cute."
"That's not an excuse," Minjeong grits, colliding her glass with Aeri's and decidedly not Jimin's. "You annoy me."
Jimin clinks last, stubbornly knocking into Minjeong's like she has a say, making sure to keep Minjeong's attention. "But you love me."
Minjeong blinks. Long, slow. Aeri throws her shot back, pours out another for herself.
So, they are doing this here.
Now.
She squints, glares, almost coming nose to nose to Jimin, whispering quietly and below the chatter—painfully private despite the audience. "Is this behaving to you?"
Jimin flinches, just slightly, like chastising herself, as strikingly obedient as she utters lowly. "I'll behave."
"Okay…" Aeri drawls, dragging out each syllable, popping the bubble of heat around them. "This tension is two shots for me. Hurry up with whatever you got going on, freaks. I need to take this after witnessing all that right in front of my face." She jokes dryly, her small and amused smile too loving to be taken seriously. "Shameless and rude. Have some fuckin' decency." She glares at Minjeong from her other side, pouting, after they wipe their mouth clean from finishing their glass. "Right after I offered to conspire with you to piss her off."
"I'm irresistible," Jimin interrupts, quick, cocky, being a little shit for the hell of it, taking her shot with them with no telltale sign of a grimace and only conviction. "Minjeongie can't help it."
Jimin shrivels even more when both Aeri and Minjeong glare at her.
"Right…behaving…" Jimin tapers, murmuring.
"I should've met you first," Aeri declares, like it's the finishing note to their bickering. "I'd have a chance."
"No, you wouldn't," Jimin argues, unable to help herself. "I don't play when it comes to Minjeongie, I've never played when it came to her. The only one with a chance is me."
"Who said that?" Minjeong scoffs, interrupting this weird…tug of war she was in—and she was the rope. She has a say in all this, too.
Jimin softens, looking at her with pleading, sincere eyes, far too reverent and adoring for Minjeong to go back to joking. "I just know it."
Vaguely, Minjeong's aware of Aeri sneaking away with her bottles of soju and her glass, her work done with stellar evidence to show, quickly finding another group of friends to mingle with. If Jimin's stupid ardently loving face wasn't enough indication, Aeri had her own hand in strangling her affection until it could only come out in blatant, sheer honesty. "Everyone can love you, but no one's gonna satisfy you like me. I'm your unnie. You know that. Please, Minjeong. I'll wait forever. But please, let me in. I love you. Unnie's gonna be good to you, I promise."
And even more stupid than Jimin's loving face, is Minjeong's stupid penchant to love Jimin back. Just as hard. Just as stubborn. Just as faithful.
"You better mean it, unnie."
Because she isn't surviving it if Jimin leaves her.
"I do! I promise it!"
Minjeong squints, pretenses dropping with a joke, a tease, playful, all the things that made it easier for Minjeong to fall for her. "You break it, I break your arm."
"Deal! You can break more." Jimin beams, so happy that she matches the fluorescent sign flashing across her face. "You gonna say you love me back yet?"
"Mmm…maybe."
"What?!" Jimin yelps. "I just-" She flounders. "We just-"
"I love you, unnie, but, shut up," Minjeong teases, crashing her lips into Jimin's, making a scene, showing everyone and no one what Jimin means to her—what they mean to each other. Jimin's gasp is hot, her breath on her lips, plush softness pushing back into her touch with a heavenly sigh.
And it's perfect.