Hyejin is already waiting for her when Wheein reaches the restaurant.
Hyejin looks up when she opens the door, wind rushing into the small space. Wheein smiles at her, unbuttoning her jacket, making her way to the corner table in the back.
“Took you long enough,” Hyejin takes a sip of her water, biting down on the straw as she watches Wheein sit in front of her.
“I was painting,” Wheein shrugs, “or at least trying to.”
Hyejin leans forward, sighing, “no, no talking about classes tonight.”
Wheein reaches for Hyejin’s glass, “I’m sorry but midterms are fast approaching so all I can think about is classes.”
Hyejin leans back when their food arrives, their waiter lights their grill placing a plate of raw meat closer to Hyejin.
Wheein watches silently as Hyejin places meat on the grill, taking some sort of satisfaction watching the pieces of meat curl with the heat.
“You’re getting thin,” Hyejin says as she passes Wheein a plate, “living up to the starving artist image a little too literally, don’t you think?”
Wheein groans, picking up a pair of chopsticks, “you wouldn’t believe,” she shoves a piece of meat into her mouth, “between too many classes and not enough work eating feels like a luxury.”
Hyejin shoot her a concerned look, Wheein almost laughs when she keeps pushing meat her way, “Wheein-ah,” she says voice soft, “take care of yourself.”
“Ah,” Wheein whines, “what is this? Aren’t we supposed to be having fun?” she pouts playfully at her friend, grins when Hyejin rolls her eyes.
Hyejin shoots her a questioning look, forgoing words. Wheein smiles reassuringly, knows that Hyejin understands that yes, she’s ok. Even if she can’t say it.
They’re eating, easy conversation flowing when a gust of cold air rushes into the small restaurant. Hyejin’s eyes flicker to the door, Wheein doesn’t bother to turn and look.
The other customer doesn’t really make much noise, Wheein almost forgets about them until she sees a waitress carrying a tray of meat.
Hyejin has stopped cooking meat for a while now, sitting down, eating slowly. There’s a bout of silence between them, comfortable. Wheein chews thoughtfully, trying to figure out the expression etching itself on Hyejin’s face.
“Hey,” Hyejin finally says, pushing her empty glass around the table, “do you want to play a game?”
Wheein agrees without much thought, used to the games and dares they’ve done since middle school.
“Sure,” she says, finally turning to look back at where Hyejin’s eyes are still lingering.
The person on the other side of them is alone, quietly grilling meat, the brim of her hat low over her eyes. Wheein turns back to look at Hyejin, catching the small grin beginning to spread of Hyejin’s lips.
“Let’s make a bet.”
“What kind of bet,” there’s really no point in asking, Wheein knows whatever Hyejin is planning it’s going to ask whether or not Wheein thinks she can win or not.
“I bet I can get her number,” Hyejin’s eyes look at her, determined, mischievous.
Wheein raises an eyebrow at this, questioning.
She’s known Hyejin for years now, she’s grown up with her, feels like she knows every single part of Hyejin that there is.
Wheein knows that Hyejin does not like girls. Has never shown interest in them. Her ideal type often falls under the same answer over and over. Tall, older, handsome, manly.
The girl in the restaurant’s other corner is not the picture Hyejin always paints in her wistful tones.
Wheein thinks about, knows that Hyejin has absolutely no idea how to seduce a girl, much less a stranger. It’s unknown territory but Hyejin and her never tread too carefully when it comes down between them two.
“Ok,” she finally decides, “it’s a bet.”
“Whoever loses has to do whatever the other says,” Hyejin tacks on, a punishment that has become more or less their standard when it comes to these kinds of things.
“Obviously,” Wheein grins.
Hyejin stands up slowly, shrugs off her wool cardigan.
Wheein almost complains that it isn’t fair, eyes settling on the golden swell of her shoulders bare under her halter neck line. But this isn’t another boy Hyejin is playing with and Wheein is betting (hoping) that the other being a girl throws Hyejin’s attempts off.
“Wish me luck,” Hyejin smiles, moves away before Wheein can say anything.
Wheein moves over to take Hyejin’s previous seat, watching as her friend approaches the stranger, flirtatious smile on.
The other girl looks up at Hyejin, pushing her cap up a bit to have a better look. Wheein can’t hear what they’re saying with how low they are speaking. She can make out Hyejin introducing herself, pointing at the empty chair across the other girl, asking to sit.
Wheein watches as the girl nods, hands stilling over the grill. Hyejin says something, the girl looks at the grill, back at Hyejin.
She knows she’s staring but it’s almost hard to turn away, watching as the girl offers Hyejin some of her meat, her friend declines, leans closer, smile soft. She reaches out to rest a hand on the other girl’s, the look on her face playfully dangerous.
She catches the moment when eyes go wide, a pink flush rising high on the girl’s cheeks.
Wheein laughs in disbelief when Hyejin finally gets a nod in her direction, taking her phone out, sliding it across the table.
Hyejin is giving her that smile, the smile she saves for when she gets her way, clearly pleased. Her eyes shine with it, the corners of her mouth curling charmingly.
She doesn’t really know what to say when Hyejin walks back to their table, taking Wheein’s seat, pleased expression on her face.
“You bitch,” Wheein hisses, no bite to it.
Hyejin laughs, sliding, turning her phone to show Wheein.
“I win,” Hyejin does a little shimmy, entirely too pleased, “you know what this means, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wheein waves her off, unfazed by the promise of her punishment, “what do you want me to do?”
“I’m still thinking about it,” Hyejin locks her phone, “Let’s go home,” Hyejin waves over the waitress for their bill.
Wheein drinks the last of the water in her cup, shrugs her coat back on.
Hyejin waves at the girl from the corner table when they pass by, an easy gesture that rises a blush high on her cheeks, Hyejin completely uninterested.
“You need money, right” Hyejin says one night.
Wheein looks up from her computer, eyes burning from the hours strained over the screen.
“You know someone who needs a painting?” Wheein asks, gaze going back to her computer, finger gliding over the touch pad.
“No,” Hyejin grins, sliding off the couch, shuffling closer and closer until their shoulders bump, “I have something that’s...ah...easier.”
Wheein turns to look at her, hands stilling, eyes questioning.
“Easier like how?” Wheein says slowly, curiosity taking over, closing her laptop.
“Remember how I bet I could get the girl’s number?” Hyejin says instead, changing the subject abruptly.
“Yeah, and?” Wheein huffs, crossing her arms, “what does that have to do with this conversation?”
“Well, you have to do anything I say, right?” Hyejin smiles at her, pleased, “because you lost.”
She types quickly, keys clicking in the silent room. Wheein can’t let herself look, too embarrassed, cheeks already heating up. She clicks on the first link, watches as the site loads, the background black, font simple and effective. It’s not as sketchy looking as Wheein had imagined, she searches around until she finds the join now button.
She fills the basics, her name, her age, uploads a profile picture for her username.
wheeining | 22 | online
Seoul, South Korea
grad student, artist, singer, living life.
looking for a financial arrangement.
message to discuss details.
She saves it before she has second thoughts, the page refreshes and a red notification bubble appears in her mailbox.
Welcome to SugarAngels!
Wheein reads the message quickly, scanning the do’s and don’t’s. She’s halfway through when she gets another notification.
She already hates it. She hated it the moment Hyejin had uttered the words.
Wheein likes to think that she can keep up with her, that nothing really can catch her off guard when it comes between them. Years and years of friendship have turned into years of pushing the limit. Her and Hyejin have done everything and anything together, never one to back down, Wheein has only fueled the flames.
But this, this is something Wheein hadn’t even thought about thinking.
She should had taken off the moment Hyejin had started talking about the lucrative world of sugar babies. Hyejin had smiled at her the same way Wheein likes to think she smiles at the boys she traps under her gaze.
“Forward the confirmation email to me,” Hyejin had said as she had began to collect her things, standing up, turning away from her, “you’re not going to back down, right Whee-ah?”
She clicks on the little envelope on top. She recoils when it opens the only conversation in her inbox, a grainy picture of a dick staring back at her.
She reaches frantically to block the user, deleting the conversation with a shudder.
She needs to change her preferences, she thinks to herself, going for her profile settings.
wheeining | 22 | online
Seoul, South Korea
grad student, artist, singer, living life.
looking for a financial arrangement.
interested in women only.
message to discuss details.
She exits out the website, goes to her email and forwards the confirmation email to Hyejin.
Hyejin texts her seconds later, one of her made up kaomojis that has Wheein smiling even with how terrible her best friend is being with all of this.
Wheein allows herself to forget the whole stupid bet and punishment. She becomes trapped under coursework, commission work, odd jobs to keep her afloat.
She’s got deadline after deadline wedge between the worrying panic of her rent payment, her groceries, supplies.
The anxiety keeps her up, staring at the way the streetlight floods into the room, the faraway sounds of cars passing by, farther and farther away.
The clock on her bedside table flashes red digits at her, 2:25 am.
She should be sleeping, she has class in the morning, and then a full day of looking for jobs, anything to relieve the stress eating away at her. But no matter how long she looks or how hard she tries to get commissions it feels absolute hopeless, it eats away at her thoughts, prickling at her nerves, turning her stomach into knots.
Her phone pings beside her, nestled under the corner of her pillow. Wheein frowns, twisting her arm to reach for it, disconnecting it from the charger.
It’s an email notification.
[SugarAngels] You have one new message! Click to go to your inbox!
She groans, slides to unlock her phone. Now is as good at time to delete her stupid account, she thinks, opening the email and clicking on the link. It loads up the sign in page. She types in her email, her password.
The little red notification catches her attention still, curiosity gets the best of her, the profile picture is of a dog, gray and white with terribly long eyelashes.
doremifasolar has sent you a message!
She clicks on it more out of reflex than anything else, watching as the message pops up.
hey, i really like your pictures
sent 10 minutes ago.
Wheein bites the inside of her cheek, perplexed more than anything over how simple and innocent this message is. Her fingers hover over the keyboard of her phone, still as she tries to figure out how or if she should even reply.
She blinks quickly when she sees the other is typing again, sending another short message.
what kind of art do you do?
She types her response slowly.
pencil and watercolor, photography
whats your name?
Wheein is deliberate with her responses, suddenly feeling the fierce need to shield herself.
i only give out names to those who are interested.
i am interested.
interested in what?
obviously in what this website is advertising.
you do know that i am a girl, right?
and i also know that your profile says only interested in women.
Wheein attempts to think of answer but the heaviness of her eyes has finally become unbearable and she’s not entirely sure if the whole conversation is a mere dream as she finally drifts to sleep.
She wakes up late, with the sun flooding into her room, her stomach growling in hunger. She gets up leisurely, letting her bed sheets fall off her and into the floor.
She’s still sleep stupid, when she’s brushing her teeth, looking at herself in the mirror as her face pulls with her bared teeth.
It’s when she’s pouring the last of the milk from her carton that she lets it sink in. Another day wasted, another weight on her shoulders. The air is quiet in her small apartment, Wheein stares blankly at the gathering mold at the corner of the ceiling.
She groans, throws the empty milk container too forcefully into the small trash can.
“Why do I even bother,” she mutters to herself, sticking a spoon to her half full bowl of cereal. She hears her phone go off from her room, a small twinkle of a notification.
Her eyes follow the sound, eyes widening a bit as she remembers just what she fell asleep on. There’s another ring from her phone. The small bell sounds so threatening Wheein drags her feet back to her room, reluctant to read what was sent to her.
When she unlocks her phone she has two notifications, one from her conversation with Hyejin and another from the godawful site.
She reads Hyejin’s message first, an attempt to prolong reading anything from last night.
saw a cat that reminded me of you, js
She smiles but doesn’t reply, instead letting out a long suffering sigh, clicking on the other notification watching as her browser opens and the site loads.
It’s excruciating waiting for the slow connection to finally show the messages. She clicks quickly on her only conversation before she loses her nerve.
im sorry if i came off as creepy last night
my profile picture probably doesnt help
i swear im not a weird pervert or a dog ok
its just youre the first profile i see that doesnt sound like im reading off a list of torture techniques
look a peace offering
totally 100% human not creepy dog
Wheein takes a moment to laugh a little at the distressed messages, can’t help smiling. She enlarges the picture, can only make out that it must be some foreign place, lavish, expensive looking.
It’s surprising when she sees the little writing bubble popup, a message quick to get to her.
oh thank god
i was reading my messages and sounded pathetic
which im not alright
thanks i moisturize everyday
Wheein’s smile widens, amused at how terrible it is.
you’re really bad at this
i know :(
this is my first time dont judge me
it’s my first time too…
and we found each other
Wheein rolls her eyes at that, re-reading the last couple of messages, taking note of the emoticons.
this website has hundreds of new users each day
it’s not special
There’s no speedy response after this, no bubble popup indicating a message. Wheein watches as her screen fades back to black, phone locking.
“That’s that,” she says to herself, feeling just a small amount of disappointment. She puts her phone down again, leaving it plugged in even with its full battery. She picks it back up after a second of thinking, opening hers and Hyejin’s messages.
i really want a cat ):
With the morning gone and the afternoon sun rising higher Wheein sighs, lifting up the curtains to make way for the sun rays, hoping to gain energy from the winter sunshine.
She’s sluggish in her movements as she picks up her old beaten laptop, listens to the tired whirring as she turns it up, screen blinking at her as it begins to set up.
An afternoon surfing the internet for job postings seems to be the only thing she can afford at the moment. She has supplies she needs to buy for her art courses, a nagging voice in her head.
Hours go by like this, clicking aimlessly at links, reading qualifications that she doesn’t have, exiting with a heavy sigh. She gets trapped in the never ending spiral of disheartened attempts verging on plain out depression. The day has gotten darker as the sun has began to sink down. Wheein can’t bother to get up and turn on the lights, instead squinting her eyes as her computer screen becomes brighter in the darkness.
She startles when she hears the pop of her email notification. She has it opened in another tab, out of habit more than anything. She switches to it, her latest unread email from Sugar Babies.
[SugarAngels] You have one new message! Click to go to your inbox!
Wheein doesn’t bother to go through the email, instead opens another tab, types out the website. When it loads she’s still signed on, she clicks on the top bar, where the notification calls for her attention.
She considers that it might be from another user, maybe a spam bot. But when she opens her messages it’s from the same doremifasolar as before.
sorry for the late reply
i had a meeting
and then other things to take care off
if you were wondering
maybe you werent
that would make this really awkward
ok i really am terrible at this
Wheein tries to reply coolly, even if her nerves are back, throat dry as she tries not to think too much.
Again the messages come in quickly, short sentences that could probably be merged into larger responses.
so about last night
what are you looking for using this site?
Wheein figures the truth is better than nothing at all, she takes her time as she thinks about her wording.
truthfully my friend made me do this
i lost a bet and this was my punishment
i mentioned something about needing money
for school and just
you know living
and i guess in her sick head that translated to me signing up to a sugar baby site
The next messages take a little longer to come, not an abnormally amount of time, but, Wheein notices, just a little slower in their delivery.
woah is this what kids these days have fun???
A pause and then,
so you’re not really interested in anything this site offers?
because i wouldnt mind helping you out
if you really needed it that is
Wheein binks at the messages. She stares at is for so long her computer light dims.
For some reason Wheein is allowing herself to consider this. Of course when she had joined Wheein had never ever thought a serious offer would present itself. Wheein shakes her head, scoots closer to her laptop. If she’s seriously thinking about it than she has to think about it carefully. Weigh every part of her decision. It is obvious that she is struggling. The glamour of the starving artist has left a lingering bitter feeling alongside her practically barren refrigerator, her emptying supply box, a shrinking apartment that seems to suffocate more than feel like home.
Wheein bites her bottom lip, moving the cursor of her computer, squishing down the frustrated feeling with the whirring as it turns on.
ok, she hits enter with too much force, heart stuttering as she watches her message pop up alongside the thread of their clipped conversation.
They’re a quick succession of messages that follow.
expected full rejection to be honest
but this is so much better
should we discuss rules?
Wheein reads the last two messages, decides she might as well keep pushing through.
my first rule is discussing these things in person
She waits for the response half hoping the other falters under the demand.
The other replies.
i guess its better to meet before entering any kind of agreement.
when are you free?
She thinks about her school schedule and work hours, trying to figure out what she can push around. She has a couple of exams and evaluations coming up. Knows she should focus on these first but the recklessness she has been growing keeps pushing through and she types out slowly.
Again with a half a fear, half a hope Wheein smiles nervously as the reply comes to her.
in two days? sure.
Wheein opens their chat again for what feels like the thousandth time since their conversation just dropped. The last message had been hers, a simple ok .
Above had been their discussion for their meeting.
2pm at pop cafe
can you get there?
Wheein had said yes regardless if she did or did not. She had instead looked up the cafe, had scrolled through pictures of it. The cafe was obviously expensive, pictures of the food and interior absolutely luxurious, the small shop located near the high rise buildings stretching endlessly into the sky, ridiculously overpriced brand boutiques, restaurants and cafes dinnerware more expensive than Wheein’s entire apartment.
It’s in the afternoon that she begins to panic, the sinking feeling of it landing uncomfortably hot to the pit of her stomach.
She opens the app on her phone, clicks on the profile of the other from their messages.
doremifasolar | 30 | offline
Seoul, South Korea
ceo; looking for a mutually beneficial
relationship. willing to discuss.
She pushes that aside.
She isn’t ready for whatever this is. She has two days to get anywhere near close to the idea of ready. But no matter how much she tries Wheein will always just be plain, utterly simple. Her clothes border on boring, nothing special. She can’t picture herself entering this kind of life in her acid washed jeans and long t-shirts.
She reaches for her phone, checks the time and quickly calls Hyejin.
So you do know my schedule by memory, Hyejin’s voice is airy, her laugh skirting through her words.
Wheein can hear the chatter and noise from the students getting out of class, rushing to other classes, the cafeteria.
“Can I go over?” Wheein asks, trying to keep the strain from her voice, “you’re going home now, right? We’ll get there around the same time.”
Hyejin is quiet from the other side, the noise of the crowd lessing as she moves away from the heart of campus.
Sure, she finally says, I’ll pick up something to eat.
The way to Hyejin’s apartment is about ten minutes away if Wheein manages to not miss the subway. It’s an hour before the work hour rush, the cart empty save for Wheein and a young mother with grocery bags. Their eyes meet and Wheeein smiles at her briefly.
Hyejin lives in a better part of the city. Not necessarily the best but when Wheein begins to walk down the streets they’re clean, empty with no people lingering around. The apartment complexes in the area are sleek, modern in their design. When Wheein had first moved into the city this kind of living space had been a dream. Nothing too lavish but simple and comfortable.
Her own apartment pales in comparison. The floors permanently stained with odd colors and spots, the walls beginning to mold with water damage, the sounds of cars and traffic and people talking too late at night keeping her awake on more days than one.
Wheein thinks of all this absentmindedly, the way to Hyejin so familiar her feet seem to take her there automatically.
Hyejin lives on the fifth floor. Wheein makes a beeline for the elevator, pushing the button to close the elevator door faster when no one else seems to be coming in.
The door to Hyejin’s apartment opens just seconds after Wheein rings the bell. Hyejin smiles at her, wide and silly, still halfway in her coat.
“I just got here,” Hyejin says, taking a step back to let Wheein in, “I got some chicken.”
Wheein nods, quiet as she slips off her sneakers, unwinding her scarf.
Hyejin pulls out plates and cups, neatly folding the plastic bags she used to carry the chicken home. Wheein watches her do this without a word, knees drawn up, hair falling over her face.
Hyejin sits across from her, opens the takeaway box and finally looks at Wheein.
“This is awkward,” she half laughs, reaching for a piece of chicken, “what’s wrong with you?”
Wheein shakes her head, a small movement, she stops just as quickly, furrowing her eyebrows before she opens her mouth.
“I made a big mistake,” she whispers loud enough for Hyejin to hear, “and it’s all your fault.”
Hyejin looks at her, eyes narrowing, chicken leg halfway to her plate. Wheein tries to look way, reaching quickly for her own chopsticks, but Hyejin knows her way too well and Wheein grimaces when she laughs, loud and amused.
“You did not,” Hyejin says around her laughter, chicken now dropped to her plate, smiling mouth covered by her hand, “you did never tell me what happened after you signed up.”
Wheein groans at that, lets herself flop back, throws her arm over her eyes in despair, “I hate you,” she spits out in frustration.
“Well now you have to tell me if you’re so worked up like this,” Hyejin’s laughter is back, not bothered at all by Wheein’s words.
When she finally sits up Hyejin is chewing thoughtfully, completely unwilling to move on past the looming conversation over them.
“Ok,” Wheein slumps forward, pushing her hair back, “ok so I may or may have not made some sort of date with a sugar...ah...mommy?”
“May or may not?” Hyejin gives her an unimpressed look, hand reaching for another piece of chicken.
“OK,” Wheein hisses, “I did, I made some sort of negotiating date with some sort of sugar mommy and the worse thing is that all I can worry about is that I have nothing to wear.”
Hyejin bites down at a chicken bone, Wheein takes a deep breath.
“So you wanna borrow some of my clothes,” Hyejin concludes, “this is what has you all worked up.”
Wheein listens to the clicking of the hangers as Hyejin goes through her closet.
The room is quiet, Hyejin focused on looking for the right outfit.
“It’s on Sunday,” Wheein breaks the silence, “at some high end cafe.”
Hyejin hums at that, pulling out a black halter top.
“And all my clothes are like hand me downs from a 13 year old boy?”
Hyejin snorts at that, “it doesn’t matter what clothes you have, it’s how you wear them.”
“Well I’m nowhere near as expensive looking as you,” Wheein rolls her eyes.
Hyejin turns to face her, “all black will probably work best,” Hyejin lays down a flowy shirt and pants on the bed, “effortlessly elegant.”
Wheein gives her an unconvinced look, hand reaching to touch the soft material of the shirt. She’s seen Hyejin wear this outfit before, taking notice of the contours and curves of her hips and shoulders shown off so brazenly. Wheein can already see how these clothes will fit all wrong on her, draping and drooping in all the wrong places. But she bites down her concerns and offers a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” she brings the clothes closer, folding them neatly on her lap, “even if this is your fault.”
Hyejin grins at her, closes her closet door as she turns around to face her fully, “have fun Wheein-ah.”
Sunday comes by at a slow crawl. The winter sun breaks into her room, motes of dust lingering. Wheein almost doesn’t remember it, the morning is slow, her mouth unpleasantly foul.
She sits up, eyes landing on the outfit Hyejin had given her on Friday.
It’s only 10 am but Wheein feels like she barely has enough time to prepare. She kicks her covers off, practically runs to the small bathroom.
The hot water shuts off halfway and Wheein nearly bites her tongue off with the shock of it, soap getting in her eye when she opens them. She curses under her breath, quickly trying to wash the shampoo from her hair.
She gets out with water still dripping from her body, wraps a thin towel around her body and makes way to her room. She reaches for Hyejin’s outfit, runs her fingers along the ruffles of the shoulders. She forgoes a bra, slips on the shirt, stares at the way the paleness of her skin contrasts with the dark color.
She rummages through her drawer for some underwear, slips it on quickly before she slides on the pants. When she looks herself in the mirror, in the complete look she takes notice on how it fits her differently, flat in places Hyejin fills out, tight in places Wheein never really has thought about showing off. She turns around, looks at herself in the different angle.
“Could be worse,” she mumbles to herself, fingers reaching to touch an expose collarbone, “at least it makes me look my age.”
She brushes and straightens her hair, it reaches to the middle of her back, parted in the middle. Wheein offers her reflection a smile, raising a hand in an encouraging fist.
Her feet are freezing in her heels, the subway should be at the platform any minute now but she shivers in her coat as the seconds pass by.
People don’t spare her a glance, but she feels like every pair of eyes is on her, feels like everyone knows where she’s going, what she’s doing. She curls into herself, eyes on the yellow line on the floor.
The mechanical voice announces the arrival of the subway and Wheein shuffles closer, eager to escape the cold. The carts are fairly full, teenagers and young families out to enjoy the last day of the weekend. Wheein finds a corner and stays there, eyes trained on the small screen announcing the stops.
She’s only gotten one more message from the other, yesterday night before she had fallen asleep.
see you tomorrow.
She spaces out, finger locking and unlocking her phone stomach knotting in nerves. She feels like dry heaving, feels like getting out and walking back home. But she’s stuck in her place and with each flash from the stops flashing at her she gets closer and closer to possibly the biggest mistake of her life.
The streets she walks through are busy, girls wearing expensive looking coats, carrying bags that Wheein can’t even begin to figure out how much they cost. She bows her head and walks down the street her phone shows her to, following the blue path paved out for her.
The tall buildings shine under the afternoon sun, important looking people lingering by the entrances. Wheein keeps walking, feeling under dressed, watched.
She breathes in relief when she finally spots the cafe. Her phone reads 1:27 pm. She considers staying outside, but the winter air is too unforgiving. She makes brisk steps towards the small shop, holds her breath as she opens the door and steps into the warmth.
There’s only a few people, enjoying cups of coffee, flaky and colorful pastries on small plates. She scans the room for an empty table, decides on one towards the back, in the corner, away from others.
She sits down gingerly, startles when a waitress shows up right away, hair done neatly in a bun, white button up shirt crisp.
“Welcome to Pop Cafe,” she says, handing Wheein a menu, “would you like a couple of minutes before ordering?”
Wheein, halfway out of her coat, offers a grimace, an uncomfortable laugh, “actually I’m waiting for someone, could I have another menu?”
The waitress leaves with a curt nod and two menus behind. Wheein reaches for one, fidgets nervously when she reads the prizes. The cheapest thing on the menu is a glass of water, Wheein laughs at the absurdity of it all, stares too intently at the neatly printed words and pictures.
It’s only been ten minutes but Wheein already feels like dying. A lot of things can go wrong, Wheein should have stayed home. But before her thoughts can continue to go down into a spiral of despair, the chair in front of her screeches, pulled away, the shadow of person eclipsing her for a moment.
“It’s you,” the voice is nothing Wheein had ever expected. She looks up from the page, blinking, surprised, at the other woman sitting across from her.
“I didn’t think you would show up,” she says, smiling easily, red lined lips crooking to one side.
Her throat is dry, heart beating wildly, trying to escape. She can’t think of what to do, what to say, she just stares.
“Uh,” she croaks, mind working enough for her to close the menu in her sweaty hands.
“I would ask you if you are wheeining but obviously you are,” the other woman leans closer, hands folding under her chin, pearl earrings dangling from her ears.
“Doremifasolar?” Wheein squeezes out, one word but she can’t trust herself at this moment.
“Here I am,” she says, voice airy, “not a creep or a dog, as promised.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, just stares, can’t look away.
“Have you ordered anything?” she asks her, hand already up to call a waitress over, “pick anything you want,” she adds as the same waitress as before walks to them.
“I’ll have the hot chocolate,” she says, looking at the menu, “and a slice of the chocolate almond cake, please.”
“And for you ma’am,” the waitress turns to her, tone and expression suddenly changed now that her company has arrived.
“I-” Wheein pauses, swallows, she looks at the menu uselessly, unable to decode anything on it, “I’ll have the same,” she finally says weakly.
“Thank you,” she hears faintly from across the table.
They’re alone again, Wheein fiddles nervously with her fingers, eyes on the table.
“I’m Yongsun,” she says, voice soft, “in case you were wondering.”
Wheein’e eyes finally snap up to look, taking in the milky skin, the straight line of her nose, the roundness of her cheeks.
She’s adorable, Wheein thinks, panic rising, she’s extremely attractive in her turtleneck and suit jacket.
How can she be this person, this can’t be real.
“What’s your name?”
Wheein shakes her head, tries to clear out her thoughts, reaching wildly for an answer.
“Wheein,” she says when she finally remembers her name, “I’m Wheein.”
She isn’t expecting the giggle from the other, she watches as the other covers her mouth with a delicate hand, smile pushing her cheeks up, eyes squinting.
“Well that wouldn’t had been so hard to figure out from your username,” she smiles broadly, “such a big fuss over it and it was right there.”
Wheein frowns at that but doesn’t have a response. She doesn’t have to think about it as their drinks and food get to them. Wheein marvels at the mountain of whipped cream resting atop her drink, the top golden from the blowtorch, sprinkled with cacao and cinnamon. The cake is just as impressive, a massive slice of chocolate, fudge, caramel and almonds.
“Thank you,” Yongsun says again, offering another one of her bright smiles.
They’re finally alone, with promises of no more interruptions. Yongsun reaches for her fork, cuts through the layers of the cake.
“So tell me Wheein-ssi,” she says, slowly, eyes trailing to her bare shoulders, back up the line of her neck, “what are your rules and expectations.”
Wheein’s hand halfway to her drink, stops at the question, and she flinches internally when she feels the embarrassing flush of a blush rising.
“Or am I not up to your expectations?” Yongsun asks, fork skewering to the bite of cake she’s so carefully cut off.
The words flash at Wheein again and she takes in a deep breath, decides she has to just go for it.
“First, you,” she says quietly, afraid to be heard, “what do you want from this?”
“That’s easy,” Yongsun shrugs, takes the bite of cake to her mouth, “you need money and I need someone to keep me company.”
“Keep company how,” Wheein leans closer, whispers.
Yongsun smiles at her, teeth peeking through her lips.
“In my bed, preferably,” there’s a mischievous shine in her eyes, “at events too,” she adds.
“And in return?” Wheein’s stomach feels like it’s eating itself, she can’t figure out how Yongsun is eating such a rich dessert.
“Name your price,” Yongsun doesn’t really seem to think about it, “it’ll be deposited every two weeks to your bank account.”
“2,000 dollars?” Wheein asks, gingerly.
“2,000 dollars?” Yongsun echoes, “aren’t you paying tuition and rent?”
“Yeah,” Wheein answers. She’s done the math, 2,000 dollars should be just enough to cover her. The money from her odd jobs can be used as precious spending money for her supplies and food, hopefully.
“10,000 dollars,” Yongsun amends, “you’ll have enough for your tuition and rent and all your art supplies, right?”
Wheein’s heart almost gives out.
“10,000?” she asks, voice unbelieving, “you’ll give it to me just to spend time with you? That’s it?”
Yongsun carefully goes to get another bite of her cake, “10,000 is easily done,” she points the fork at her, “it’s only fair between these kinds of arrangement that I take care of you for taking care of me.”
Wheein doesn’t say anything. She can feel her blush flare up again, her face must be right red.
“Or do you want more?” Yongsun asks, taking in the silence to mean something else.
“N-no,” Wheein splutters, “10,000 is more than enough a month.”
“10,000 every two weeks,” Yongsun corrects, voice amused.
“More than enough,” Wheein repeats, voice thin.
Somehow she makes it to Hyejin’s apartment, the sun is setting and when she knocks Hyejin doesn’t say anything as she lets her in.
Wheein sits quietly on the couch, Hyejin puts her phone away in her pants’ pocket.
“So,” she stretches the word out, sitting on the other side of the couch, “was it a weird old guy?”
Wheein turns to look at her, blinking as if to bring her back to focus.
“It was a girl,” she murmurs, brining in her knees closer to her chest, “an extremely attractive girl, I - fuck,”
Hyejin raises an eyebrow, “girl? Isn’t she like 40?”
“30,” Wheein corrects quickly, “her profile says 30 and I didn’t really ask.”
“Did you ask anything?” Hyejin asks, voice edging to a tone that Wheein knows means upcoming disappointment.
“No,” she whines, grabs a pillow and briefly considers smothering herself, “she showed up and was way too attractive and I honestly forgot how to speak.”
Hyejin hums at that, tilting her head to one side, “so then what’s the deal?”
“Mutually beneficial,” Wheein can feel how those words get stuck in her throat, “10,000 dollars every two weeks.”
Hyejin’s eyes widen if only for a second, composed expression settling, if only to keep Wheein from freaking out completely, “Mutually beneficial?” she asks.
“I’m obviously not too opposed to that,” Wheein closes her eyes in embarrassment.
“It has been awhile since you’ve had any fun,” Hyejin’s mouth spreads into a teasing grin, Wheein throws a pillow at her.
Yongsun had asked her to meet her the following day.
“When do you get out of classes,” she had asked after taking a sip of her drink.
“Around 3:30,” Wheein had reached for her fork.
“I’ll send a car for you,” Yongsun raised her hand again, “send me the address to your school.”
Wheein had been shivering in the cold as Yongsun had input her number in her phone, smiling as she called herself, her phone flashing a missed call.
“See you tomorrow,” she had said, looking over as her car had rounded the corner.
Wheein sits in the back of the very same car now. School bag on her lap, keeping to herself even in the spacious back seats.
The driver had asked her if she would like to stop somewhere to eat, Ms. Kim had specified to drive her wherever she wanted before meeting her.
Wheein shook her head, offered a nervous smile as she assured the driver that she only wanted to meet Ms. Kim.
The car drives past the high end shops, the intimidating skyscrapers. Eventually she’s driven into a parking lot, underground and empty except for the shiny expensive cars already parked.
“Ms. Kim is on the top floor,” the driver opens her door for her, “take the elevators to the right of the reception office.”
Wheein walks nervously to the reception desk, hands curling alongside the edge of the marble top.
The receptionist is pretty young, maybe a bit older than her.
“How can I help you?” she asks, voice bored, fingers clicking loudly on her keyboard.
“I’m here to see Yongsun?” she can’t help the way her words dip into a question, immediately regretting when the receptionist gives her a disbelieving look.
“Yongsun?” she asks, picking up her phone, fingers already pressing in a number, “do you have an appointment with Ms. Kim?”
“Yes?” Wheein’s eyes flicker nervously.
“Name?” the receptionist cradles the phone between her ear and shoulder.
“Jung Wheein,” she sighs internally when she at least sounds sure of her name.
“Ms. Kim,” the receptionist speaks into the phone, “this is reception. There’s a Jung Wheein asking for you here.”
Wheein watches as the receptionist goes quiet, listening to the other end of the phone.
“Send her right up?” her voice rises in surprise, drops quickly as her expression also changes, “no, no I was just making sure - yes, I’ll send her right up.”
“The elevator to the right, Miss Jung,” the receptionist puts the phone down, offering a smile.
Wheein smiles uneasily at that, bowing and making her way to the elevator with quick strides. She walks in as soon as it opens, not paying much attention as she jabs at the last button, stomach lurching as the doors close and she begins to go up.
She gets a bit dizzy with the movement of it, it’s probably the longest elevator ride Wheein has ever had to suffer through and her stomach is nowhere near thankful enough to ever do this again.
When the doors finally open Wheein gets an eyeful of a floor full of ceiling high windows, the view from them is probably the most impressive thing Wheein has ever seen, she walks slowly, as if afraid it’s all a mirage. She’s high enough that clouds cast big shadows over her and the floor, she steps closer and closer until she’s right up against the windows, hand reaching to touch the crystal clear glass.
“You’ll leave fingerprints,” Wheein turns so fast she feels the way her neck protests, cracking painfully.
Yongsun looks at her, standing up from her desk, walking around towards her, crossing her arms.
It’s a delicate movement, Wheein has seen enough of her to know she’s delicate. Ethereal maybe.
“It’s a nice view, right?” Yongsun smiles at her, nothing like the grins and smirks but a simple happy smile. It makes her cheeks squish up. Wheein wonders how she can really be 30 years old.
But she’s been caught staring and yeah , it is a nice view but she’s not about to say that out loud.
Yongsun tilts her head to motion at the giant windows, “the skyline, it’s a nice view right?”
Wheein freezes for a second, blush beginning to rise in pinpricks of embarrassment.
“Yes,” she croaks, turns back to look out the windows, “I’ve never seen it from so high up.”
“Next time bring your camera,” Yongsun drops her arms, motions for Wheein to follow her, “you said you did photography, right?”
Wheein nods, follows wordlessly as Yongsun leads her to her desk, gestures to sit across from her.
“Was you drive nice?” Yongsun asks, placing her hands flat on the glossy wood of her desk, “did you eat anything?”
Wheein shakes her head, puts her hands up when Yongsun frowns at that, “I mean, yes , I had a nice drive. No , I didn’t eat.”
“Ah,” Yongsun nods, reaches for her phone. They don't say anything, the office so quiet Wheein can hear the ringtone from the phone.
“Bring up some food from the cafe,” she says, voice brisk, “make sure to bring me an iced green tea.”
Wheein doesn’t say anything as she hangs up, expression again changing into something stern.
“While we wait,” Yongsun starts, pulls out papers from a folder placed between them, “I’m not saying you have to sign or not. That’s completely up to you.”
Wheein gives her a questioning look, Yongsun keeps talking.
“But if you’d like for this to be under a contract, I had one drawn up,” Yongsun pauses, hands the paperwork to Wheein, “it’s nothing too complicated. Just limitations and expectations. If anything it just makes sure we both get what we want from this.”
Wheein’s eyes trail to the words printed on the paper, the terms and conditions of this upcoming relationship.
“Of course,” Yongsun leans forward, long hair cascading over her shoulders, “with or without a contract I would make sure to live up to our agreement.”
Wheein’s gaze flickers to look at Yongsun, feeling small under her stare. She flips through the pages until her eyes catch on a particular line.
Sexual contact of any kind will only be initiated if both parties are willing. Payment will continue as long as there is companionship even of the non-sexual kind.
Wheein keeps reading, picking up random lines, making up the deal she’s about to enter.
“So I only have to spend time with you,” Wheein asks, voice soft, “nothing else. I don’t have to be seen.”
“Unless you want to,” Yongsun adds in.
“And you’ll still pay me?”
“Then I don’t think this is necessary,” Wheein puts the contract down, “as long as you know what you want and what I want,” Wheein pauses, thinks of her next word, “I can trust you?”
Yongsun leans back, crosses her leg over the other, “that’s for you to decide.”
She reaches for the contract, fingers tapping over it, “don’t sign it if that’s what you want,” Yongsun pushes her hair back, “but it’ll always be here.”
The elevator bell rings then, opening slowly as the receptionist from downstairs walks out, arms heavy with plastic bags and two drinks.
“Ms. Kim,” she bows as best she can, placing the food on the coffee table closer to her, “I bought your favorites.”
Yongsun waves her away as soon as the food is placed down, doesn’t even spare her a glance as she keeps her focus on Wheein.
“Let’s eat so you can tell me about your day.”
Wheein is eating some sort of cheesy bread, making sure not to chew so loudly.
“Nothing exciting really happens to me,” Wheein admits, “I had classes today. My photography professor keeps asking questions about our midterm portfolios but I don’t really know what I’m doing yet.”
Yongsun nods along to this. Wheein finds it almost funny having her in her perfectly tailored suit and meticulous makeup nodding along to such mundane things.
“I, uh, actually am kinda wondering what kind of company you have,” Wheein bites her cheek, willing herself to keep from saying anything else.
“Me?” Yongsun takes sip of her iced tea, “I run Solar Cosmetics,” she places the drink back on the table, “do you know of it?”
Wheein lets a small laugh escape her, incredulous, “know of it?”
Whenever Wheein gets dragged along shopping with Hyejin, passes the storefronts of the fancy beauty stores, all she ever sees is displays full of Solar Cosmetics. Girls crowding into stores as they attempt to buy the newest shades and creams promising perfect results.
“You’re everywhere,” Wheein huffs, looking around the office, “no wonder your office is an entire floor, you must really have a lot of money.”
Yongsun laughs at that, shrugs, “I definitely have enough money to get anything I want,” her eyes linger on Wheein.
Wheein gets picked up again the next day. She almost yelps when she gets into the back seat and Yongsun is already there, smiling at her delicately.
“H-hi,” Wheein stammers, “um-”
“I’ve cleared up my schedule so we can spend some time together,” her eyes trail to look Wheein over, “cute outfit.”
Wheein looks down at herself, her long jacket up to her knees, jeans cuffed to her ankles, yellow shoes dirtied.
“Thanks,” Wheein puts on her seatbelt.
“Let’s go shopping,” Yongsun says simply, “I need some new clothes.”
The boutique they drive to is small, the kind of store that only carries three sizes and about ten pieces of each item. The employees working the floor bow at them readily. Yongsun doesn’t really seem to mind them, instead reaching to loop her arm around Wheein, pulling her towards the back.
“I need something to sleep in,” Yongsun explains as she walks Wheein over to the intimates, the display of lace and silk flustering the younger girl.
She doesn’t say anything and Yongsun looks thoughtfully at lacy bras and bottoms, long delicate fingers reaching to feel the material.
“Do you like this one?” she pulls it away from the rest, showing Wheein the white lace of the babydoll lingerie, eyes questioning.
Wheein opens her mouth to answer, but her throat has gone dry and she can only make an embarrassing sound at the question.
The white of it would probably look so pretty against Yongsun’s skin. Wheein tries to push the images away. But they’re intrusive and Hyejin’s have fun comes back to make things worse.
Yongsun pulls it off the hanger, a girl walks to them seemingly out of nowhere, hands already going to take the clothes from Yongsun. Wheein wonders how long she’s been there, if she saw how worked up she got from such a simple question.
“Do you want anything?” Yongsun asks, motioning to the dainty clothes around them, in soft pastels, “I think something blue will look best on you.”
The powder blue of the frilly bra she pulls out is pretty, Wheein can’t deny that. Yongsun must take her silence as approval as she takes it down too, handing it to the girl behind her.
Wheein watches quietly as Yongsun goes through the section, occasionally picking up pieces, in black, soft petal pink, bright red. And Wheein can’t help but imagine them all on the older woman.
The total of her purchase is probably more than what Wheein’s entire life is worth. Yongsun had taken Wheein around, picking up clothes, pants, tops, dresses, she thought would suit Wheein.
The younger could barely get in a word, watching as another girl had joined their party to help with the load of clothes.
“I have to go back to work,” Yongsun says as they settle in the car again, bags all around them, “we’ll pick something up for you to eat and drive you home.”
Wheein ends up in her stupid small apartment, bags of expensive clothes hanging from her even smaller closet, chewing slowly on some overly prized bowl of pasta.
are you having fun?
Hyejin texts her a couple of days later. Wheein closes the tab open to her bank statement, still unsure of how to feel about the 10,000 dollars now in her account.
if you know what i mean
Hyejin adds seconds later.
Wheein bites her tongue, types in the website with the expensive brushes she has been eyeing for ages.
She’s already pay her rent, had the moment her phone had flashed the notification of the deposit.
She answers Hyejin.
Her days with Yongsun have been nothing but eating in her office and going shopping. Wheein’s only reminders of these days are the expensive bags, shoes, clothes, makeup, food now taking over her shitty apartment. The only contact they’ve had are the moments when Yongsun pulls her closer by her arm, the hand on the small of her back that excites her more than it probably should.
Wheein hadn’t really expected much from this. But as the days go by it feels more and more like Yongsun is giving more than she’s getting.
Wheein knows her willingness to fulfill her side of the arrangement is only because Yongsun is so attractive. She’s alluring in a way that Wheein has never encounter. Not in your face, not a flashy aura like Hyejin’s. It’s something more soft, restrained, teasing Wheein to get closer and find out just what Yongsun wants from her.
It has been ages since Wheein’s been with someone. She’s been busy with her many jobs, her courses, trying not to die in the winter weather.
Even the most innocent of touches from Yongsun spark her imagination and it’s enough to get her thinking, waiting impatiently for the moment when Yongsun asks for something, anything.
She stares at the ceiling, a minute later her phone starts to ring. The contact name is only a sun emoji.
Wheein, Yongsun calls from the other side, my driver will pick you up tonight. Did your payment go through?
Wheein bites the inside of her cheek, “Yes and ok, I’ll be ready.”
Yongsun hums, Ok, see you later.
Wheein pouts that, used to Yongsun giving her attention in the short amount of time they’ve spent together. Yongsun hasn’t been shy in hiding the fact that she’s willing to push meetings, pitches, important lunches to make time for her. She’s probably already been spoiled over such a simple thing.
“Ok,” she drags out the word.
Yongsun laughs through her phone, static crackling with it, I have a very important meeting to go to, baby.
Wheein straightens at the pet name. This is something new. She can’t help the way her stomach turns with it, a rush of something running down her spine.
“Ok,” her pout only grows, “I’ll be ready when you’re ready for me.”
Her words may be deliberate but Yongsun doesn’t say anything but a soft goodbye .
Her goal is a kiss. That’s all Wheein wants for the night. A kiss to get the ball going.
Yongsun’s driver picks her up around 8 pm.
She, even with all the beautiful clothes Yongsun has bought her, Wheein still finds herself wearing her big sweaters and wide legged jeans.
Yongsun always says she looks cute, Wheein likes it.
This time around she’s driven to Yongsun’s home. It’s not the first time she’s been there but it is the first time she walks into the spacious apartment this late at night.
Yongsun’s apartment, like her work office takes up an entire floor. Wheein is still a bit unfamiliar with it, she knows where the bathroom, where the untouched kitchen are but nothing else.
Yongsun is already there when Wheein leaves the elevator, she slips off her dirty sneakers, pushes back her hair as it falls over.
“Hi,” Wheein calls softly, the lights are on, harshly lit. Yongsun is still wearing her suit, her pencil skirt hugging her slim hips, jacket still on, pinstripes on charcoal black.
“Are you hungry?” Yongsun asks, tilting her head to the food, “it just got here.”
“No thanks,” Wheein shakes her head, sits on a stool, “thank you for the allowance,” she adds, eyes trailing to the floor, “I actually really appreciate it.”
Yongsun pulls a container of noodles to herself, opening it carefully, picking up a pair of chopsticks, “hey, we agreed on it, didn’t we?”
Wheein shrugs, “yeah well, it’s so much money...and I -”
“You’ve done your part of the agreement,” Yongsun stops eating for a moment, “it’s only fair for me to do mine.”
But I haven’t done anything.
Wheein doesn’t say anything to that, she goes quiet, listens to the faraway sounds of the street below them.
“Hey,” Yongsun says, “I got you a gift.”
“Really?” Wheein asks, small smile already appearing.
“Give me a sec,” Yongsun smiles big at her, walking away for a second and coming back with a gift bag, “you said you’re doing photography, but I haven’t seen you with a camera at all.”
Wheein reaches for the bag carefully, can figure out with the weight of it, the comment, what it is. Either way her mouth drops when she pulls out the black camera. It’s a newer model from an expensive brand. It’s beautiful and Wheein turns it over in awe, pushing the on button, pointing it at Yongsun. The image on the preview is crisp, colors coming out perfectly, she takes the picture, Yongsun’s expression set into some sort of soft half smile, forever in Wheein’s mind and now on camera.
“There’s something else,” Yongsun practically chirps, too excited as she takes the bag, pulls out a small box, “because sometimes cameras are too big carry around and the guy at the store said the iPhone X has the best camera out of all the phones out there.”
Wheein watches as Yongsun opens the box, pulling out the thin phone, glossy and new.
“I switched your plan with mine,” Yongsun says, “you just have to put in your contacts and cancel your old phone.”
Wheein takes the phone when Yongsun gives it to her, she presses the button at the bottom, the screen lights up and she’s greeted with a picture of Yongsun as her wall paper.
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Yongsun giggles, Wheein stares in half shock as she sees a blush begin to rush to her cheeks.
“You are unreal,” Wheein says, putting the phone down.
Before she loses her nerve she grabs for Yongsuns’ neck, guiding her until their mouths meet.
Yongsun, to her credit, reacts right away, mouth yielding as Wheein hesitantly kisses her, lips sliding slow with her nerves. Her body is burning hot from such a sweet kiss, Yongsun’s hand going to wrap around her neck, the other cupping her cheek.
The smell of almonds and vanilla reaches her as they keep close, jaw aching as Yongsun bites down gently, tongue sweeping at the seam of her lips, asking almost too softly for more.
Wheein opens her mouth, a breathless gasp coming from her when their tongues touch for the first time.
Her chest feels like it’s overheating, from Yongsun’s warmth, from the sweet taste of her mouth, the softness of her hands.
She shivers when the older pulls away, eyes clouded, cheeks a hectic red.
“If you want to say thank you,” Yongsun takes in a deep shuddery breath, “we should go to the bedroom.”
Wheein’s nod is probably a little too enthusiastic but Yongsun doesn’t say anything as she steps away, eyes inviting, asking Wheein to follow her.
Yongsun is slow in taking off her suit jacket, Wheein sits on the edge of the bed, watching with her lip under her teeth, her sweater and jeans still on.
“You’re taking too long,” Wheein whines, pout forming.
Yongsun turns to look at her, smile playful, “then you do it,” she says, hands dropping from where they were working on her blouse’s buttons.
“Come here,” Wheein huffs, hands already out.
Yongsun follows her order easily enough, smiling to herself as Wheein’s hands shake, trying to get rid of the shirt in the way between her and Yongsun’s skin.
She’s reckless again, as she pushes the material off Yongsun’s shoulders, the snowy white lines of her shoulders cut through with the black of her bra. It’s frilly, Wheein is not surprised, cups carefully framing her chest, the swells of them alluring under the dark color.
She wants to touch, place her hands over the curve of them, feel the way her nipples are hard from the cold, from the anticipation of touch. But her hands go to the zipper of the other’s skirt, pulling it down, enough to shimmy it down her hips, the lines of her legs. Her bottoms match, of course they do. Wheein’s fingers play with the frills, dangerous close between Yongsun’s legs. Wheein looks up her, the soft brown hair adding to the image, softly falling to over her shoulder.
She pulls her in by her hips, hand cupping along the jut of her hip bone, fingers crawling under the strap of her panties, touching the soft skin, pressing her fingers into it.
“Take your clothes off,” Yongsun whispers, their eyes meet, Wheein pulls away.
She gets out of her jeans first, thankful she’s wearing one of her nice cotton panties, pastel stripes cutely standing out. She kicks her jeans out of her legs, takes a deep breath as her hands reach for the hem of her sweater, closes her eyes as she peels it over her head, shivering as the cold air hits her bare chest.
“Ah,” Yongsun says, surprised but pleased, “interesting choice of underwear.”
“Shut up,” Wheein murmurs, already feeling her blush rising, “there’s really nothing there to cover up anyway.”
Yongsun laughs at that but before Wheein can think about saying anything, the other girl pushes at her shoulders, pushing until Wheein slides up the bed, the silk of the sheets velvety under her bare back and legs, Yongsun hovering over her.
“You want to say thank you, Wheein-ah?” Yongsun ducks down, lips pressed to the line of her jaw, “well, do you?”
“Y-yeah,” Wheein stutters, eyes looking up as Yongsun lifts herself enough to gaze down at her, “yeah I do.”
Yongsun kisses her mouth, a quick, soft peck.
“Let me eat you out,” Yongsun breathes, cheeks red with their shared heat, “I’ve been thinking about that for days now.”
Wheein swallows nervously as she nods, shivering as Yongsun begins to trail down, letting the air of the room hit her. Yongsun presses a kiss to her sternum, mouth hot as her lips kiss down her chest, lips mouthing at her nipples, tongue teasing, teeth biting at the hardening bud. Wheein exhales, body twitching as Yongsun moves away, the wetness of her mouth making her skin prickle.
Yongsun’s fingers curl along the waistline of her underwear, exceptionally slow as they pull them down, patting the side of her legs to get her to kick them out.
Wheein is completely naked but she can’t think much of it as Yongsun crawls between her legs, teeth biting at her thighs, a sharp pain at the meanness behind them, tongue leaving a hot trail to ease the pain.
The feeling of teeth and tongue is enough to let Wheein know there will be bruises forming but she can’t bring herself to care when Yongsun finally goes up higher, pushing her thighs farther apart as she drapes herself over the bed.
She whines when Yongsun touches her with her hand first, fingers running along the wetness already forming between her legs, rubbing carelessly at her clit, biting down playfully at the inside of her thigh when Wheein’s legs kick out on their own with the touch.
“Be a good girl and stay still,” Yongsun whispers, mouth too close to her.
“Oh,” Wheein breathes out, Yongsun’s tongue now touching where her fingers had.
She doesn’t get any other warming besides that. The tentative touches start and Yongsun’s tongue begins its ruthless chase of Wheein’s release.
Her tongue flattens out, licking in broad strokes against her, pressing closer until Wheein has to keep her legs open, leaving space for the other to do as she pleases.
Yongsun’s hands hold on to her thighs, fingernails digging into the soft skin there, her right hand skimming closer and closer until her fingers join her mouth, playfully touching at her entrance, sliding in with a wet sound.
Wheein bites her lip, tries to keep her noises to herself as Yonsun sucks at her clit, the wet sounds of her finger and mouth working Wheein towards the edge, too loud to her ears.
Yongsun hums when Wheein finally lets go of a moan, her name choked half out when she adds a second finger, pumping in and out slowly, tongue threatening to get closer to her opening as well, just a tease of it before it goes back up, a slow lick that Wheein feels flares up the fire in her stomach.
She can feel how wet she is, it’s slick between her thighs, dripping between her legs. Yongsun’s tongue laps it up as best she can, places kisses at the seams of her thighs fingers careful as they stretch inside her. The sounds are embarrassing, the slick sounds of Yongsun’s mouth and fingers, the whimpers Wheein is trying so hard to quiet down. Her hands hold on to the pillow under her, eyes shut tight when Yongsun bites a little harder, fingers moving a little quicker. Yongsun moves lower and Wheein bites down hard enough to draw blood when her tongue finds space between her fingers, her other hand going to rub small circles against her.
She doesn’t last much after that, Yongsun’s fingers and mouth touch all the right places and her legs lock up as she shudders, she comes with her eyes shut, body arching as Yongsun keeps going, pushing her through the waves of pleasure, insistent to keep going until Wheein finally, finally whines her name.
“Yongsun,” her voice cracks, her body still shivery with how good she feels, “come here.”
Yongsun’s laughter is a bit heavier than usual, the bed creaks as she pulls away, Wheein makes a face as she pulls her fingers out, running teasingly between her folds.
Yongsun smiles at her, her lips glistening, her hair disheveled, cheeks cherry red.
Wheein is expecting to be asked to do something, instead arms go around her, Yongsun curling around her, pulling her until her back is flush to Yongsun's front.
“I would do something else,” Yongsun murmurs, “but this is enough for now.”
Her chin rest on the curve of Wheein’s bare shoulder, “plus I really did want to eat you out. You’re so cute.”
Wheein goes pink at the compliment, pleased with the words, with the lethargic feeling in her limbs from her orgasm.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
Yongsun doesn’t say anything, Wheein cranes her neck towards her, sighs when she sees Yongsun has fallen asleep.
“You’re really cute too,” Wheein says.