checkinyourbra: (jessica03)
[personal profile] checkinyourbra

Title: Greener Grass [Part Six]

Pairing(s): YoonSic

Rating/Genre: R; AU Healing Romance

Warning(s): There be lesbians in this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.

Author's Notes: As mentioned elsewhere, this chapter was a dragon to slay. ;___; I changed a ton and…*nods*. It should make more sense. It’s not the most edited of chapters, but it’s eager to be let out the drafts folder. And I’ll listen to what my story says.

Also: I’m replying to your comments on Part Five! Don’t be discouraged to say a thing or two. I’m not ignoring anyone. ;((

Part Six:


“Where were you?”

Yoona kicked off her canvas sneakers. They’d been no match for the storm, soaking to her skin.

“Where were you?” Chanhwi repeated, merely a silhouette in the bedroom entrance. “I’ve been calling everyone.”

She knotted her ankle socks into a wet ball. “Phone was on silent. Sorry.”

“Thank god you’re all right.”

“I need a shower.”

“Hold on.” In a beat, Chanhwi materialized before her. Beer on his breath, handsome eyes sallow. “Where were you, Yoona? Quit avoiding me.”

Yoona couldn’t pass the weight in her throat. Her insides cramped, begged for her to stream the lies from her naked body. “I’m not.”

“I know you. I know your eyes,” he murmured, lifting her chin with a single finger. “Something happened.”


“You scare me, Yoona. I’m not your terrible father; it’s me, Chan.”

“Hello, Chan.”

He grinned and moved to scratch his upper lip. “I drank too much.”

She’d offer to take him to bed, to distract with sex or foreplay. Any means to get him asleep.

But, she hurt too much.

“I was out with a friend,” Yoona croaked. “Hours danced by and...yeah.”

“Guy or girl?”



They stalled, voiceless. A grandfather clock dotted the silence in metal ticks and tocks. Yoona buried cold fists into her hoody pockets, hating the monotonous melody.

“When you wait up all night for someone, you know it’s love.”

Yoona smiled timidly. “Aww. You have a big heart.” As she neared the walkway to the bathroom--stomach unsettled, toes soundless on carpet--she suggested, “How about a movie? Just let me shower first. I feel dirty.”

“‘Dirty’ doesn’t begin to describe you.”

She froze, loose-jawed. “Chan...”

“Am I that revolting, Yoona?”

“What are you--”

“Am I?!” he roared, bottom teeth rattling with his chin. “I knew you hid your true colors. Still, to go this far.”

Her abdominals churned; frighteningly so. The doctor promised the procedure had gone without a hitch. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“We have the same friends and they’ve known me longer! Did you think you’d get away with this?!”

The woman--Chanhwi’s racquetball partner--suggested the after-hours clinic. She’d been vocal about going through a similar ordeal and Yoona thought of no other person to request a ride.

She expected the secret to get out...just not so soon. “I can’t do this. I had to--”

The drum of a wooden drawer cut her short. She’d viewed her boyfriend’s heavy vintage furniture with a soft fondness; though, nothing fond came to mind at the metal object winking at her.

“Chan, not this again.”

“I pointed this at my head too many times tonight,” he muttered, swinging the handgun like any drunken man would. “Don’t you want your own family?”

“Someday,” she answered as a motionless post. Unflinching. Chanhwi’s teary, dramatic outbursts weren’t new, especially when he was under a lot of stress.

“Then, why’d you get rid of it? Our child.”

Yoona’s eyes flooded, mimicking the downfall outside their home. “It’s too soon.”

“You wouldn’t be alone. You’d have me.”

“I don’t--” She clutched her stomach through her hoody. “I don’t want to have kids with you.”

He cocked the gun. “I’m all you have.”

“That’s...” Yoona’s eyes darted to his loose handle, how he waggled the opening at his veined, throbbing neck. “That’s true. Don’t do anything rash, Chan.”

“Why not?”

“I care about you.”

“Huh,” he chuckled. Sounding mad. Thankfully, the gun unwedged from his jaw. “You care about me, but you can’t love me. Because you’re a lesbian, correct?”


“We share a bed, Yoona. A woman who sleeps with any ol’ body isn’t a lesbian. She’s a tramp.”

“You’re wasted. Put the gun down.”

“Tonight, you’ve committed a crime against nature. How’s that feel?”

Yoona stringed through her long, wet hair. As base and foolish as her freshman year. “Empty.”

“E-Empty?!” He pulsed red. Handgun knuckles white. “Where’s my charismatic girlfriend? How deluded can you be not to see the...the enormity of what you’ve done?”

“I don’t know.”

“Our miracle...”

Chanhwi wasn’t the type for miracles, karma, faith hocus-pocus. “It really isn’t-”

“A miracle,” he emphasized. “And you’ve snuffed it like a parasite.”

“The gun, Chan.”

“What’s family to you?”

“Stop swinging it.”

“I’m your only family.”

“Shut up alread--”

“My legacy goes down the drain for-”


The next sequence of events sped via fate’s remote: another shouting match, an unstable hand slamming the gun to the desk, the trigger sounding off, a bullet piercing her flesh, the blood, the crying, the ticks and tocks. All fast-forwarded. Then, shrouded in kinetic black as the police burst into their residence. The Void vacuumed Yoona in like a black hole.

Dead. Dead again.

Floating, drifting as another piece of cosmic debris.

Yoona’s throat ached in a scream for her life, for her angel, for...


A sweet child’s voice. A child who had a name.


“Why do you cry in your sleep, Yoomie?”

Awake, Yoona peered at her desk lamp’s yellow light. Indeed, salt drained to the corners of her lips.


It meant nothing pre-demise, but now...

She wrapped her visitor into a fast, desperate hug. “Mommies get sad, too.”

“Even Mummy?”

Yoona put some space between them to kiss her soft forehead, a button nose, two cheeks that’d dimple if Haeun didn’t look so glum. “Can’t sleep?”

“I...” Wispy brows sank; fingers wound into her Yoomie’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Intuition lassoed her gaze down to Haeun’s cloud-print jammies. A distinct splotch darkened the front of her pants and Yoona’s tears dried. “Babes, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Yes, I do.”

This stubborn kid. Forever fixated on her ‘grown-up’ behavior. “It happens. Let’s get you squeaky clean, okay?”

Haeun fastened onto Yoona’s wrist the second she vacated the bed. Helpless fingers trembling, relentless.

Admittedly, the woman adored this attention. As if Haeun’s world would fall apart without her. When, in actuality, it was the complete opposite.

“Where’s Mummy?”

Yoona’s voice flattened. “At work.”

Jessica stowed away to her office often and tonight was no different. After the kids were safely tucked into bed, she’d throw on a coat and peace out for hours.

“Why?” Haeun asked, earning a reassuring pat on the head.

“She’s making money for Christmas presents.”

“I want Mummy.”

Yoona did, too. Grudgingly. “How about this--you’ll clean up in me and Mummy’s bathroom and I’ll let you wear one of my pajama shirts.”

“Really?” Her little face brightened.

Without further ado, she attended their daughter to the master bathroom. Noting Haeun’s independent nature in this area, Yoona stuck to the basics. Running the water to a fair heat. Fetching the fuzziest towel from a cabinet. Flicking her wet hands at the girl’s face to make her squeal.

Yoona thumbed through body washes while Haeun discarded her stained clothing. Perfumed scents like lavender mint were too sexy for the 5-year-old. Instead, she collected lesser-used containers from under the sink.

“Mummy has ‘Ginger Orange’ and ‘Vanilla Coconut’. Pick your poison.”

Flopping kiddish arms in her nudity, Haeun chose the ‘Vanilla Coconut’ bottle.

Yoona would’ve assumed so--it was purple.

“Which one to do use, Yoomie?”

“Oh.” She shrugged, reaching for her usual. “Mango something? I buy whatever.”

“Mix your ‘Mango Something’ with Mummy’s ‘Vanilla Coconut’. Then, I’ll smell like both of you!”

Yoona beamed. “You amaze me, you know that?”

“When will I get boobies, Yoomie?”

Groaning, she guided Haeun into her bath, relaying the only suitable response: “When you can pay rent.”


Tiffany arrived at the Im household in an inside-out bathrobe. She hand-raked her disheveled hair, shuffled sheep slippers to the cleaning cabinet, and concocted a homemade urine-removing potion like a domestic alchemist.

As a fan blew the mattress dry in a loud hum, Yoona read a book on French Bulldogs to Haeun until she knocked out on her and Jessica’s bed. Sighing, Yoona touched her lips to Haeun’s warm temple. Wishing, hoping for her daughter to stay young as long as possible. This stage in her life held purity, endless wonder. Peeing didn’t sully the experience--only enhanced it.

Boobies and adulthood could wait.

“Glad I called an expert.” Yoona removed a hot mug from the espresso machine. “Bedwetting eluded me.”

Tiffany smiled puffy eyes, opting for a glass of brandy. “Deal with it once and it’s ingrained in your mind. You’re welcome.”

They drank silently after that. The brunette passed her uneasiness as paranoia. Fany’s ex--That Man stepped up to the plate, using paid time off to take The Trips (even Thing #3) to his city apartment for a week of ‘Daddy Awesomeness’.

Ample opportunities for Fany to get shut-eye. Yet, following Day Two, she’d withdrawn into a slight depression.

“How are your little Things?” Yoona asked, grasping Tiffany’s tense fingers.

“Having the times of their lives,” she whined. “I doubt they miss me.”

She snorted. “Is this why you’re so bleak? Jealousy?”

“That knuckle-dragger loves sports and manages their hyperactiveness like Dr. Phil. I’m the shrill harpy.”

“You’re extraordinary. We all know it.”

Tiffany pulled her hand away, placing it in her lap. “What if they want to stay with him permanently?”

“They won’t.” Yoona believed her words. “Custody’s a bitch. However, you provide stable shelter, food not out a box, and freedom to run around, to terrorize the neighborhood.”

“Don’t forget my kickass band equipment in the basement.”

The basement. Yoona paled. “Their mom’s a rock star, too! Don’t worry. They love you and That Man equally, but you’re home for them.”

“True.” Fany’s teeth peeked in a smarmy grin. “I can iron and arrange a tie better than him, you know. I bet my boys’ uniforms are sloppy all week.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Im offspring doing well?”

“Haeun’s brainy and talkative. Bitchy Mrs. Ban cited a ‘bossy streak’ on her latest progress report.”

“Thing Two sticks his bloody scabs in girls’ hair,” Tiffany chuckled, echoing Yoona’s shudder. “And Joonie? How’s my pretty boy?”

“Still pretty. I watched him practice the other day. He’ll make a good goalie.”

“Jessica’s been skipping our gym sessions.”

“She’s doubling hours at the office. Skipping you, skipping me...” Yoona chipped a dot of dried honey off the table, tone salty. “Then, she overbooks our children. Potentially forcing them to be as pressured as--.”

“Hey, now,” Tiffany interjected, lowering her glass. “Remember our recent escapades? You cut a side-bitch loose and burst into tears at an apartment you can’t explain.”

“I thought we were the Lonely Hearts Joggers. Let me vent.”

Her friend pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know, I know, Yoona. This week is making me sensitive or something.”

“When’s Ctrl+Ex’s next practice? Since Jessica ruined it last.”

“I’ll text you.”

“I have no idea what to do with her. She’s fucking evasive, absent at night. Work, kids, work, kids, work and no room for me.”

“Have you mentioned the breakup?”

Yoona pounded a clenched fist. “Yes--and it didn’t help! If she’s not staring through me, she’s glaring machetes at my throat. I’m here, doing everything I can to cross this bridge--”

“Are you?”

“Sure I am!”

Are you?“ Tiffany enunciated, black pupils seeking Yoona’s for something the latter couldn’t hide. “How awful was the basement fight?”

“The worst.”


Yoona felt a drip at her brow. “Jessica....she threatened to kill me.”

“She blew off steam.”

“Are you taking her side? After everything I’ve done to fix this?”

“Jessica loves the shit out of you.”

Yoona scoffed, gulping foamy heat.

“Be frank with me, Reformed Two-Timer. Why would she threaten you?”

“Ah-about...” Disdain for her alter self returned. “Joonie.”

“Jessica--like myself--is a fierce Mama Bear. Mess with her cubs and she’ll strike for blood, no matter who poses a danger.”

“Are you calling me dangerous?”

“The signs are clear,” Tiffany droned, leveling eye contact, “Your son’s afraid of you.”

The sentence sucker-punched Yoona in the chest. Of course she could tell. By how his eyes--eyes so similar to her own--widened in suspicion whenever she joked with him or leaned in too closely. He studied her smiles, pouted constantly, and hailed ‘Mummy’ as his patron saint.

“I’m trying to redeem myself, Fany. It’’s not working.”

“Try harder! He’s three years old; his memories only go so far. And most of them consist of you...” Tiffany brandished a finger as she recounted, “Ribbing at his clothes, his dainty mannerisms, his co-ed team. Buying him shit you know he doesn’t want. Calling him ‘confused’ to his face for loving Batman one day and Sailor Moon the next. Remember when Jessica let him grow his hair long?”

Yoona didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You snipped it yourself! That’s traumatizing! Yes, Jessica can be a conceited fucking tyrant; though if I fault her for anything, it’s exposing Joonie to you at your cruelest.”

“I’ve changed. Really.”

“Words mean jack shit. Show him.”

An irrational side of Im Yoona seethed. Tiffany might’ve been speaking infinite truths, so why the hell should she be persecuted in Alter-Yoona’s place? Why’d she deserve this punishment? “Fine.”

Accepting the weak reply, Tiffany continued, “Thing One wet the bed during my rockiest divorce period. Children pick up on the strain in our marriages. We try to protect them, yet...”

“Jessica doesn’t listen. She won’t even respect my hobbies.”

“‘Noise pollution’...that was mean,” the woman agreed. “Jessica’s methodical, goal-oriented. And as unromantic as this sounds, you’re her goal of a wife. She naïvely holds onto your finer qualities.”

“Naïve?” Yoona couldn’t pin that on her savage wife.

“Yes, naïve. Yoona, my marriage shattered when That Man stopped fighting for it. The light in his dumb eyes...they fizzled. I made the call.” Tiffany stood to rinse her cup, shyly wiping her cheek as she passed. “Regardless of his height, lucrative career, arms that could bench press ten of me, and a hardly-tragic thinning patch, we were screwed if he gave up.”

“I see.”

“Jessica went full bitch on our band--doesn’t mean she wasn’t onto something. We are a bunch of losers. Sooyoung, Jinki, the rest of Ctrl+Ex lost the marriage gamble. That’s why we support one another.”

Yoona stretched in the chair and exhaled. “Will I hit my limit, too?”

“You’re my bestie,” Tiffany uttered thickly, heading for the exit, “and truthfully--had I been you or Jessica--I would’ve hired a lawyer years ago.”


The ringing of keys, fresh scent of perfume, and skin-tingling match of tired eyes brought Chanhwi’s voice to mind:

“When you wait up all night for someone, you know it’s love.”

Yoona restrained strong reflexes, temperature spiking at even the visual of Jessica stone-solid and rooted in defense upon arrival.

Fights in the midst of years-long tension bred the worst comments. If Jessica’s death threat and jabs about her womb were heat-of-the-moment taunts, Yoona was motivated to clear the air. To put this filthy past behind them.

Jessica cracked the silence. “Drinking at this hour?”

Biting her cheek, Yoona’s traced the neck of the brandy bottle. “I haven’t taken a sip.”

“Sure.” She perched a duffel bag on the couch before padding to the refrigerator, cadence absolutely chilling. “What if Haeun or Joonie needed you? Could you at least try to be in commission while I’m out?”

Yoona was too distracted by the duffel to bicker. So prone to fleeing in the night, her wife actually designated luggage for it. “Haeun wet the bed.”

Jessica slammed the fridge to face her across the kitchen. “Oh?”

“She’s clean. Fany and I set the mattress aside. It’s taken care of.”

“Where’s Haeun sleeping?”

“In our bed.”

Yoona intercepted the mama bear’s swift exit, using her height to her advantage. Tenacious fingers webbed into the sleeves of Jessica’s shirt, holding her at bay. “Sica. I’m tired of fighting.”

“I’m not.”

Sooyeon.“ She shivered when her once-angel’s eyes rose in piercing defiance. “We can’t live like this. It sucks for you, me, and it influences our children.”

“Coach Jonghyun called yesterday. Have you been ditching Joonie’s practices?”

Shit. “Not all of them.”

“Haeun’s too?”

“Yes, Sica.”

Jessica’s bottom lip arched in pure rage. “I fucking pay for their lessons! What nerve of you to interfere?”

“They’re three and five,” Yoona growled, not keen on being scolded. “Why would kids their age need hours of extracurriculars?”

“Children thrive on routine, for your information. You’re spoiling them.”

“I’m a criminal for lightening their load?” Yoona released her to pace a circle around the dining table. “Haeun and Joonie deserve to be kids Jessica! Your incessant mother-henning is gonna send them into therapy before puberty! They’ll resent you.”

Jessica crossed her arms, watching. “Not just me.”

“I’m not the same. Joonie should trust me.”

“By neglecting his agenda?”

“They kick a damn ball for hours. He could do that here.”

“Who are you?” The shorter woman marched forward, sharpening leery eyes. “Jonghyun’s a capable, gay coach of both boys and girls. Or would you rather someone who’d try to ‘toughen him up’ like the Trips’ douchebag macho instructor? Have you forgotten? Amnesia, perhaps?”

“Not amnesia.”

“Then, listen. I’ll say this once.” Jessica’s composure resurfaced--speech diamond-cut, gestures elegantly arced. “Look past the cleats and nets and uniforms. Dismantle your pigeon-holed, prejudiced point of view and you’d understand, Yoomie. Joonie’s more than a wannabe goalie. He’s a legitimate, approved member of a team.”

Yoona had never been called a bigot a day in her past life. “Sica--”

Jessica’s head shake shut her up. “Haeun’s a strong-willed girl, but she fits in fine. Minjoon won’t have the same privileges...he’s different.” She shot a glance to stairs that led to their bedrooms. “And if you searched beyond the sport, you’d notice his closest teammates don’t fit gender molds, either. It’s crucial for Joonie to have a like-minded, social bubble. Because they won’t be plentiful as they get older, as their bodies change.”

Dumbfounded, Yoona bit her lip.


“Yoona, Joonie hasn’t expressed dislike for his genitals or labeled himself other than ‘boy’. He’s eclectic, as I’ve said. Though, I’m prepared for anything and I’ll always be in his corner.”

“M-me, too. I swear.”

“Big claims call for big evidence,” Jessica whispered, smoothing a crease in Yoona’s shirt.

The gentle stroke swelled her heart. “I won’t forget, Sica.”

“Did you forget that you love me?”

A fat tear wet Yoona’s cheek. “It’s complicated.”

“I love you too much,” she confessed. “My family doesn’t tolerate us. You parents couldn’t. Our children are virtually grandparent-less. We’re all they have, Yoong.”

Parents. Somewhere in an alternate land, they lamented her death. Destined to visit her body in a morgue, ashen and empty.

Yoona considered the emails’ lack of parental talk a bad omen. Either Alter-Yoona and Hyelim wouldn’t discuss the subject--highly unlikely--or it’d been deleted, suited for phone conversations. More the reason to be conflicted.

“I’ll meet you in bed later.” She hastily backed from Jessica’s fingers, scared of what was to come. “Will you be up?”

“Study time?”

“This won’t take long.”

Jessica sighed, “I’ve heard that one.”

“Sica, I promise.”

“Do whatever you want.” She heaved the duffel to her shoulder, looking so small. As small as Yoona probably seemed to her. “Nothing you do behind locked doors will amount to me. You have no idea how lucky you are.”

Funny. Yoona didn’t feel lucky.


How sad that estrangement provided the cheeriest option to explain the lack of anything parent-related in Yoona’s study. Nothing on her phone, no names rang a bell on social media, no checks signed in her father’s slanty penmanship.

No pictures.

Yoona swiped to her go-to: Jessica and Haeun asleep beneath the fort. Besides the popup book, it bent her lips into a grin any and every time.

Why the fuck couldn’t the world progress faster? Her wife was human.

The Void didn’t judge; it produced choices, free will. How could some ignoramus see this photo or Joonie’s pigtails or Haeun’s framed dragon painting and declare, “Blasphemy. All of it.”?

If anything, hell was on earth.

“Yep,” Yoona agreed at her desktop, entering her parents’ names into a search bar. “This is hell.”

In her former life, her parents’ hell would be rushing to the hospital. Blaming themselves for not preventing the unforeseen. Planning funeral arrangements. Burying their headstrong 28-year-old in the family plot. Outliving their only child.

And paralleled in a way only beautiful in fiction, Yoona mourned, too. For the present timeline, Yoona’s parents died a year after she graduated college. Her father from a short battle with colon cancer, followed by her mom the next year by natural causes--’a broken heart,’ as quoted in a short article written by...Im Yoona.

God damnit.

She regretted her selfish, reckless years. Was Chanhwi worth the time she could’ve invested into her family? A universe away, did her homophobic living parents wish to undo their arguments?

Grief wedged a tight knot in her throat. Yoona was drowning, physically weak at bereavement’s acute impact.

“This isn’t fair.”

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to curse.

She wanted to smash that fucking desktop.

To point to the heavens, accuse it of lying.

Her parents were alive. Somewhere, out there.

Though, it hurt just the same.

Her phone buzzed. Twice.

“Hye, take a hint.” She almost typed it, stopping short of honoring any message from here on out. Replies powered the relationship, no matter the content.

No more of this weaning bullshit.

Nevertheless, seeing Hyelim’s name invoked her final discovery that night. Chanhwi.

Maybe his alternate didn’t own a gun. Chose not to bed vulnerable students. Shacked up with a woman who enjoyed his sex. Took a path without murder or manslaughter or whatever the courts rules upon.

He wasn’t the worst man; he could be happy.

The results justified Lady Yang’s hesitance at the apartment. Yoona double-clicked and backtracked and confirmed names and photos for proof. Getting the same dire outcome.

Instinctively, her cold hand rubbed her stomach beneath light cotton.

Chanhwi died. He accidentally shot himself while making a drunken point to his fiancée.

She was pretty. In her twenties.

He fell short to similar calamities. Still had a position as a prestigious professor and a penchant for stylish undercuts before he fucked up anyway.

The line between this universe and the last weren’t so vast after all.


More than disappointing. Tragic. Depressing.

Yoona schooled her breathing, recalling Chanhwi’s miracle talk. It was entirely out of his character.

Then, it occurred to her.

She and Chan--she cringed--had always been slack about protection. No pregnancy scares whatsoever. So, for years, she considered herself lucky.

What if Yoona wasn’t lucky? Just...unable.

Until her periods stopped. And as Chanhwi celebrated the early trimester victory, Yoona rushed to a clinic to extinguish this so-called miracle. One more thing would’ve kept her bound at his side.


Im Yoona logged out the computer.

She had a lot of mourning to do. Specifically, for her parents, Chanhwi, Alter-Yoona’s soul, her own fertility, and her innocence.

Yoona descended from the third floor. Paced for a minute in Joonie’s room. Turned the fan on Haeun’s mattress to low.

Her body grew dense, burdened by tears heavier than metal. She shuffled into the lamp-lit master bedroom, on the verge of collapse. Even a breakthrough. And finally, she slumped onto the bed with Jessica and a sleeping Haeun.

Jessica gasped. “What’s wrong?”

Too much was wrong. Tremors wracked Yoona’s body.

“Yoong? Tell me.”

“My parents are dead,” the brunette wailed into comforter, too taken by tapered fingers caressing her back. “My-my parents are dead and I’m sorry.”


The minutes flew by in a blur. Yoona hadn’t bawled uncontrollably since she came out to her parents. Or the night she nodded yes, allowing Chanhwi to undress her.

Two firsts she’d despise to revisit.

“I’m s-sorry, Sooyeon. I’m sorry,” she hiccuped, submerged in a steaming bathtub.

Jessica slid a pillow beneath Yoona’s cheek. “Shh. I’m listening. I know.”

She would belabor the apology until her throated rawed. “I’ll try harder. I’ll do better.”

“So will I.”

Blinking wet lashes, Yoona whimpered, “Don’t shoot me.”

Jessica’s heavy eyelids batted in reply. Obviously disturbed. “Why would I...”

“The affair’s over. Forever.”

“I’ve treated you like a peon, Yoong.” Her wife stared downward. “And...that comment about your womb was vile. I regret it so much.”

“I regret more than that.”

“It’s not my intention to make you feel inadequate. I mean, we’ve been angry at each other for a long time.”


“I’ve noticed your changes. You act how you did before Joonie and it’s confusing and irresistible and...” Jessica absently drew circles in the bathwater from her seat on the tile floor. “Is this helping?”

Lavender mint wafted through the warm bathroom. “I’m a disaster.”

“Mmm, kinda.”

Yoona’s grin returned like an old friend. “Rude, Sica.”

“You’re a beautiful disaster, if that’s any consolation.”

In the aromatic depths, she felt weightless. Not similar to the Void. “Joonie’s a good kid.”

Smiling, Jessica squeezed a loofah over Yoona’s shoulders. “Our son’s incredible.”

“He’s afraid of me.”

Jessica folded her arms onto the tub’s ledge. Her chin lay on top. “Joonie perceives what we hand him, Yoong. It’s reversible, if you’re patient.”

“I can be patient.” Yoona cupped a wet hand onto Jessica’s cheek. Her wife’s layer-free skin, untraced eyes, faintly pink lips, naturally soft voice rendered her mesmerized. She caressed until her shyness bled through. “Mm, your cute side. Its sexy. Sexy-cute.”

“You’re babyfaced yourself.”

Hamming it up, Yoona puppy whimpered. “Is that why you take care of me?”

“I take care of you because I love you.”

Jessica’s said that twice tonight. Yoona could kick herself for her delay. “I love you, too, sexy-cute lady.”

Her lips shaped a quiet smile. “Babe, you were hysterical.”

“It kinda hit me...about my parents.”

“Talk to me.”

Not yet. Yoona decided to bring up a more abstract topic. “Something phenomenal--no, sublime brought us together.”


She clenched her jaw, handling her confession like glass. “I believe there are multiple worlds, universes, dimensions out there. Limitless possibilities, outcomes. In some, you’re a celestial being, even.”

“This is new,” Jessica whispered into a barely-there kiss to Yoona’s nose. “Go on.”

“In others...” Their lips coasted, touched mostly by breath. “...we’re strangers, doomed to stay that way.”

“That’s so sad.”

“It is. And I’m fortunate the dice rolled in my favor, Sica. I missed you.”

Jessica initiated a feverish merge of mouths, murmuring, “You’re too charming.”

More than charm. It was the truth.

Yoona kissed back, high on bliss she hadn’t experienced since Haeun’s class visit. It transcended all the laughs with Chanhwi, the pretentious banter with his cronies, the anonymous women bedded. Even though the previous life sculpted her to be the woman licking passion to her true love’s ear, it’d run its course.

That ‘game’ ended.

“I fucking missed your tongue,” Jessica exhaled, sliding nails down Yoona’s slick back.

“Keep it down,” Yoona warned. “Our censor’s beyond the door.”

“She’s asleep.”

Yoona raked in a handful of syrupy hair, lurching her into a full-tongued lip lock. This Jessica expressed lust and panting, vocal adoration. Slipping from her designer-clad constraints, nixing mature obligations to fit Yoona’s other hand into her camisole. Over a breast swollen with want.

“No bra,” she moaned to Jessica’s neck, halfway out the water. “Hand me a towel.”

Seconds later, the roughness of cotton and Jessica’s frisky hands swept along her body. They held each other standing--tongues coiled, moans in sync, eyes closed.

“Your training’s not complete.”

Yoona giggled at the office reference, severing their kiss to rasp, “What should I do?”

“Eat me out.”

Her eyes blackened to predatory. She eased Jessica into the sink counter, too aroused to lift her up. “My god, Ms. Jung. Where are your manners?”

“I’ll show you where.”

And, in another fantasy conjured by a teenaged Im Yoona, a beautiful businesswoman gnarled at her long dark hair and steered her--along her creamy neck, between silk-covered breasts, past deliciously feminine abs--down to paradise. Her knees collided to the floor and her stare lost no contact with Jessica’s.

Jessica mewled in a short spasm, husking, “Your eyes can undo me.”

“Let’s give my mouth a chance.”


Everything was exquisite. The sound of shorts sliding on hairless skin. The look, smell of Jessica’s sex. Heady anticipation.

Saliva built up as she lapped her first sample. Then, a thirsty mouthful that beckoned her thumbs to fan out succulent flesh, for her lips to pump shallowly. Her angel whined, begging Yoona to straight-up pierce her with that talented tongue.

Which she wouldn’t refuse.

And Yoona’s eyes rolled shut. Thankful, insurmountably thankful for the rain check to expire.

Her tongue at the perfect angle, in rapid beats that smothered her in want. Thumbs working in tandem, denial of air spurring a foreign sort of pleasure, neck bobbing, and a delicate, polished grip setting the pace.

She could get lost like this, live an eternity on her knees.


The moans from above changed. Gradually, but obvious enough for Yoona to reluctantly rise to her full height.


Face glossy, Jessica swallowed. “Do you love her?”

Yoona wiped around her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s over. I told you.”

“Did you?”

There were a handful of ways to answer--Yoona landed on her honest, personal feelings. For, she couldn’t speak on Alter-Yoona’s behalf. “No, Sica.”

“She called me at my office today. Her name’s Hyelim?”

Ice shot through her veins. Anger. “What?”

“From an unmarked number. She...she introduced herself as a farewell, I guess. Sounded devastated.” Jessica licked beneath the taller woman’s lip. “She claimed that you chose me in the end. As if we were in some twisted competition.”


“And I calmly, succinctly told her to fuck off.”

Yoona’s jaw twitched. Was it appropriate to nervous-laugh at a moment like this?

“I’m done tonight,” Jessica sighed, shorts snapping back onto her hips. “Sleep downstairs.”

“I didn’t kno--”

“We’ll discuss this another time.”

Paradise, lust, love left the master bathroom. Yoona’s pulse throbbed into her reddened ears.

All Alter-Yoona’s fault.

Making it Yoona’s fault, too.


Yoona tore her study into shreds.

Searching, seeking.

Flipping, unhinging, shuffling, needing a hint. Cursing fate whilst simultaneously pleading for a sign. Anything.

When, obviously, an entity didn’t part her ceiling like the Red Sea, she tumbled into her chair.

Yoona and Jessica were too fucking deprived of intimacy. An exchange of trust, desire, fingers, saliva--but mostly trust.

She deleted Hyelim’s messages. Deactivated the secret account. Unsynced anything tying her to Alter-Yoona’s treacherous past and present.

To relax, she opened Jessica and Haeun’s photo again.

Still beautiful, yet a pointy-browed somebody was missing. Her favorite picture should include him, too.

Yoona dropped the phone and strolled to the single unflipped image on her wall. Haeun’s dragon. She wondered if Joonie had any artistic talent as well. Even if he didn’t, he deserved to grace her study gallery.

Resembling old Haeun-preferring ‘Yoomie’ wouldn’t do. What fluttered in Im Minjoon’s genderfluid mind?

Seriously, Yoona would torch an actual Picasso before bending a corner of this kindergarten masterpiece. What museum rubbish could outdo the golden glitter clouds or its blocky foreground castle?

“Wait a minute.” Biting her lip, Yoona analyzed the streaky tempera strokes. “Ah, that’s too small to be a castle. I think it’s a book.”

Her nerd princess would paint a bookworm dragon.

Intrigued, the mother glanced up at the suspended shelves of forgotten books. It’d be a long shot.

Though, she had nothing to lose.

Im Yoona leafed through droves of novels, anthologies, magazines, manhwas, and dusty manuals. Praising Haeun and her impulses once she spotted the shell of an unnamed hardcover. Inside, she found hope.

In a ring.

Sunrise gleamed onto the band of polished silver between her papercut fingertips. And Yoona smiled.



Thanks to [ profile] wiildestdreams for making the awesome gifs. :keesies:

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