checkinyourbra: (yoona04)
[personal profile] checkinyourbra

Title: Greener Grass [Part Seven]

Pairing(s): YoonSic

Rating/Genre: PG-13 + Language; AU Healing Romance

Warning(s): Watch what you eat.

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

Author's Notes: ‘SUP EVERYONE. I shouldn't murder any readers this chapter. Heh. Do check the author’s note at the end. It’s important~~





Part Seven:


--


“Yoomie, where are we going?” Haeun asked from the car's backseat.

Forever-impressed by her daughter’s perceptiveness, Yoona turned down the radio’s pop music to reply, “You and Joonie have one schedule left. It wouldn’t hurt to go on a small foray to the pier instead.”

“The pier?! Can we feed the seagulls?”

“Do dirty seagulls need more food?”

Haeun could trademark her outraged gasp. “Seagulls can’t be dirty! They’re surrounded by water!”

Dirty ocean water.”

“They won’t get their dirt on me, Yoomie.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Yoona chuckled, peeking to the rearview mirror. “Joonie! Do you mind ditching your speech tutor? I’ll buy you ice cream.”

Im Minjoon, neck and mouth bound amongst two thick scarves, wobbled a nod.

It sucked to literally bribe the youngest; though, this lifted Yoona’s spirits.

If she considered losing her parents hell, this weird, make-or-break period was ‘purgatory lite’. Jessica was highly unapproachable, not that Yoona had been in the greatest condition, mourning loved (and questionably-loved) ones in secrecy.

A couple weeks involved phasing Hyelim from every trace of her life--phone and Skype call histories, saved inspiration quotes, anything Gaugin from her collection. All eliminated.

Hyelim’s ‘you win’ goodbye to Jessica turned out to be genuine. No more mentions of rude phone calls.

The perk of hitting rock bottom: their marriage had nowhere to go but up.

So, barring Hershey-dotted gestures, Yoona went on a subtlety route when the dust started to clear. Casually flashing her recovered wedding ring whenever possible, filtering back into dinner and breakfast prep, and using her work laptop in alternate rooms.

Plus--to her cheeky delight--Yoona navigated their skinship for a change. Hesitantly, Jessica consented to kisses on the cheek, the back of her head. A nuzzle into her neck when boldness emerged.

Then, Yoona would retreat, certain her wife wasn’t as tough as she put on.

Did poisonous words and remnants of an affair haunt their home? Sure, but those had to be left behind for their overall wellbeing.

Baby steps. Their family required baby steps.

...

Yoona unwound in a restaurant’s metal outdoor seating, wholly entertained by Haeun and Joonie lobbing fries at greedy, squawking gulls. She’d reluctantly bought an extra fat order of fries exclusively for their dirty feathered friends, split them into two greasy bags, and sent her kids to an area within watching distance.

They loved it. In fact, they’d barely eaten in chair-rattling anticipation.

Joonie screamed through slightly loosened scarves--screeching higher than his sister whenever a bird hovered too closely. And Haeun’s pitchy, fervent laughter accentuated their chorus. Shouting their lungs dry, causing a Thing-like ruckus.

Yoona loved seeing them this way. So free. Gaining qualities not charted on a rubrik.

Slurping the rest of her milkshake, she mentally matched their characteristics:

Haeun throwing her pretty head back in a guffaw? Yoona.
Joonie sneering at the oil on his hands? Jessica.
Haeun valiantly guiding Joonie from bird droppings? Jessica.
Both children imitating the seagull ‘caw’s? Yoona.
Joonie chucking a handful of fries at the most aggressive of the flock? Hm....either of them.

This grounded her to earth. To the present.

Soon, Fany’s loud mouth grounded Yoona’s ear to her cell phone. Reuniting with the triplets energized her personality by a truckload.

Fry bags hollowed and salty hands sanitized by wipes (compliments of a specific cue-cleaner), Yoona ushered her tykes onwards while Tiffany gabbed about a hot new conquest.

“An orthodontist,” Fany purred in faux-eroticism. “Imagine when he sees me naked. Discount braces for the Trips--cha-ching!”

Maybe she’d meet a tweezer specialist, too. “No flaws?”

“One. He collects coins.”

“That’s...bad?”

Her harsh scoff shook the phone. “Currency must be spent! What self-respecting man stashes money in a damn display case?”

Tiffany was the ‘bestie’ she didn’t deserve. Disagreements and bouts of bitter honesty didn’t char their friendship. Nor did it create an awkward haze like when Chanhwi fell into a mood or drank too much bourbon.

He was gone. Her past life ‘protector’...gone forever.

Yoona’s stomach churned.

Several feet ahead, Haeun skipped her Mary Janes between every break in the wooden pier floor. Joonie copied, albeit badly. An athlete’s title didn’t save him from tripping in his lightup sneakers, struggling to compete.

He definitely caught that from his Mummy.

“His legs,” Tiffany groaned dramatically, “are fuckin’ meaty. Like lamb shank!”

“I prefer legs...shank-less.”

“Everyone can’t date an eighty-pound heiress, whore.”

“Sica’s not--” Incessant slapping at Yoona’s leg lowered her gaze to a tiny-toothed grin. “Yes, Haeun?”

“Ice cream! You owe us,” the girl protested. Joonie agreed, blinking round eyes.

“Did I?”

They whined in accord. “Yoomieeeee.”

“Playing hooky with the kids again?” Tiffany asked, cackling. “Jessica’s gonna hang you in a public square.”

Yoona snorted. “She won’t if you don’t tattle, Hwang.”

“Any pornish encounters coming up? I live for your sex life.”

“What a disappointing existence.”

“Jessica met me at the gym. And finally, finally we had in-depth discussion about your office tryst since you’re so stingy.”

Undoubtedly, her wife left out the unhappy ending. “Anything good?”

“Oh my god, she swore she would’ve come when your hands--”

“Yoomie!”

“What?!” Yoona growled, instantly reeling it in when Joonie hid behind Haeun.

Haeun stuck to her guns. “Ice cream!”

“Find your manners.”

“Ice cream, pleeaassse.” She pointed to a multicolored truck nearby. “Right there! I know what I want!”

“Fine, right-o,” Yoona rooted in her bag, returning to the phone conversation. “Sica misses me in...that way? Should I tread carefully or ambush her spontaneously?”

Tiffany feigned repulsion. “TMI, lesbian.”

She smiled at the ice cream dude, letting Haeun pick a Jaws Bar from the truck picture menu. “Oh, please. Too much info isn’t a thing for you, nosy one.”

“Jessica says you’ve been checking her out like the old days. I hate seeing her insecure, so continue perving at her.”

Insecure? “How else should I--”

“Lemon, Yoomie!” Haeun poked Yoona’s knee in harsh intervals. “Buy Joonie a lemon pop!”

“What’d Ms. Ban tell us about your bossy streak?” she growled, officially sounding like her mother.

Her deceased mother.

Yoona received the cold packets and paid the clerk. It’d take time not to dwell on missing her parents’ funerals, their last words to her face, the judgement lacing their voices on occasional phone calls.

Bummed, she finished her chat with Fany. It’d go better in person, anyway.

“May I have my ice cream now?” Haeun asked inside the parked car, twisting her seatbelt. “It’s going to melt!”

“Not in this weather,” Yoona argued. Nevertheless, she passed the yellow and blue packets.

Snacktime suppled moments to collect her heart, to lean her chin on the steering wheel. Hellbent not to cry.

Were her parents’ personalities the same in this universe? Had fate repeated her father’s infidelity? Did they like Jessica? Had her alter self sent them pictures of Haeun and Joonie, boasting on how beautiful they turned out?

She felt conned. Powerless and out the loop.

“Yoomie.”

Yoona’s head didn’t rise. No energy.

“Yoomie! Yoooomie, Yoomie!”

Fuck, if only should could cope in peace--

“Yoomie, help!”

That sprouted the mother to attention. Rotating in place, she craned her neck. “What?”

But, she saw the problem. Haeun’s cries warbled into gibberish as Yoona bolted out the her side, snatching a passenger’s door in a deafened spell.

Joonie’s face reddened darker than his usual winter blush. Blotches appeared before her eyes, decorating his inflamed cheeks and right eyelid. The less-swollen eye peeked up at her in terror. Not ‘Anti-Yoomie’ terror--the type that creased his brow into a wrinkled curve.

“Yoom--” he wheezed in a bare plea. Goo oozed from a corner of his puffy lips, soaking his scarves in a yellow pool.

“Joon, what the--” Yoona tore at the Alpaca material, brain leaping to the boa constrictor in Haeun’s room.

Her baby was suffocating. Or, or was he choking?

Then, she smelled it.

She swiped at his chin, and banishing danger on her own part, licked the sweetness from her pointer.

Banana.

‘No bananas for her girly son’, she’d learned on her first night after the Void.

“Th-that asshole ice cream idiot motherfu--” Yoona cast the bitten treat to the parking lot and snatched its wrapper from Joonie’s sticky fingers. Even during this debacle, she reminded herself to apologize to Haeun as she blinked at the image of a banana--not a lemon--on the plastic.

Yoona was the true asshole. For not inspecting the ingredients like Jessica.

Jessica.

She dialed her immediately. Re-establishing Sooyeon’s angel status when she answered on the second ring.

“Sica,” Yoona sobbed, fear eclipsing her shame. “Joonie ate banana. He’s having a reaction.”

No snark. No lectures. No nagging. Jessica’s polished voice betrayed only a tinge of panic as she asked, “Where’s his backpack?”

“His-his--” Yoona groped on either side of his car seat. Her motherly instincts weren’t operating fast enough.

Haeun yelped in success and pitched the Rilakkuma backpack to Joonie’s lap. “Here, Yoomie! See?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Yoona grappled in his bag, not knowing what for until she found an Epi-Pen Jr. “What do I do now, Sica?”

“Breathe. And do as I say.”

Dreaded thoughts reminded her that without Jessica, Joonie would probably die. Yoona fought to ignore those. A quick exhale later--expelling gunshots, sirens, emergency unit beeps--she followed Jessica’s instructions exactly.

After administering the needle, she massaged Joonie’s thigh for the medicine. And while she whispered him soothing words, Jessica relayed the same treatment to Yoona.

His face eased into normalcy in good time. She kissed his cheeks, his temple, his ears, gratified to express affection she’d stored away for weeks. Besides a grunt or two, Joonie allowed it.

“Yoomie,” he whimpered.

“I’m right here, Joonie.” Yoona ruffled his long hair, fastened his fringe in an Eevee clip. “You’ll be okay.”

Jessica’s tone eventually cracked. As if she’d been holding in a dam of weakness. “Is our baby okay?”

“Much better.”

“I’m taking off work. Meet me at the hospital for followup.”

“Will do,” Yoona sighed, showered in relief. “I love you so much, Sica.”

“You said it first.”

“Hm?”

“Y-you don’t...” The shifting of papers and static crackled in the receiver. “It’s uncommon.”

Yoona frowned to herself. “That changes now.”

“I love you, too.”

After pressing the phone to Joonie’s ear for a “Mummy”-filled dialogue, Yoona buckled up and headed to a hospital’s emergency unit.

Haeun’s blue lipped, non-stop chatter no longer bothered her. It consoled her. As did Joonie’s reflection in the rearview mirror and Jessica’s call echoing in her mind.

This must be real love, Yoona concluded.

...

“Okay, I’ll grab the next one!”

Yoona yawned, handing off a panda nonfiction for Haeun to trade in her bedroom for a book on...

“It’s a surprise,” her daughter said before climbing the stairs in nerd glee.

Eyes shut, she circled Jessica’s waist and mumbled, “Your turn.”

“How many have we read?” Jessica placed a water on the couch-side table. “Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“Sixteen, meaning it’s your turn.”

After a doctor’s visit, the Im family did something rare--they took it easy for the rest of the day.

Joonie sprawled an army of mismatched dolls on the living room floor and proceeded to engage in a weird rendition of cops-and-robbers/American Idol. Yoona lounged on the couch to spectate, pleasantly startled when Jessica shuffled between her legs.

Haeun initiated it. She bossed her mothers into close contact, hiked onto Mummy’s lap, and directed both pairs of adult eyes to her (stealthily replaced) griffin popup book. One story led to another, trapping two women hostage, rotating ‘reading aloud duty’.

Amazing kid, that Haeun.

“I’m thinking soup tonight, Yoong. Something easy on Joonie’s throat.”

“Mm,” Yoona purred, slated to agree to anything out of Jessica’s mouth. She expected a cool, uncomfortable silence when they arrived home, for Joonie’s situation could’ve turned for the worst. Due to her mistakes.

Thankfully, it didn’t. Feuding wore Yoona out.

Jessica probably agreed.

One hand traced the rivets in Jessica’s cardigan; the other danced up her yoga pants leg. Being so cozy, melting beneath Jessica’s weight in a backhug, smelling her shampoo, half-listening to Joonie’s sing-song play, she’d label this as heaven.

“Will you help?”

“Cook, clean, juggle...I do it all, Sica.”

Jessica spun partially to stare. Minutes passing, dark lashes flicking--as if she needed immense contemplation before pecking Yoona on the lips, lingering to brush their shy smiles.

It shocked Yoona, honestly. For dual reasons.

The obvious first: that the kiss even happened.

Secondly, she couldn’t recall ever witnessing this level of affection from her parents. Duly undaunted, Joonie screeched his plastic Batmobile to a pretend curb and Haeun frog leaped onto the couch. Maybe their children needed examples of affectionate, loving parents.

Or, maybe they were abnormal. Two mothers, gender-ambiguous upbringing, intense extracurriculars, instilled hand-washing, children who ran to books and toys instead of a gaming console.

A healthy abnormal.

“This one’s about tree frogs!” Haeun stuck the big, square book beneath her lips, looking way too ‘Jessica’. “The last one! I promise.”

Jessica parted the book, speech austere. “You said that ten books ago. Don’t use promises to manipulate others, Haeun.”

God, Yoona appreciated how she addressed their children.

“Yes, Mummy.” And before the reading commenced, Haeun halted her. “May I choose a bigger book, then?”

“Go ahead.”

The dimpled 5-year-old cheered, confiscating the thin paperback and padding upstairs. Yoona imagined her bringing the equivalent of an encyclopedia upon her return.

Yoona milked the extra time, whispering, “I apologize for the scare.”

“Haeun has a dance recital in a month,” Jessica replied in a clear sidestep, “Missing these classes hurt her.”

“I understand, but we really should--.”

“They deserve to be above the fray.”

“Okay.” Yoona had no energy to bicker. The visual of Joonie hicking for air, his swollen eyes calling her like a savior, trumped her own death and any gun in Chanhwi’s collection. She tried another route. “Isn’t this nice, though? Joonie and Haeun in their jammies, an evening to ourselves. Us snuggled on the couch. Me in these shorts...”

Jessica pinched Yoona’s knee, cheeks peaked in a grin. Shifting to hang her feet off the couch, the side of her head perched onto the taller woman’s shoulder. Voice soft, serious. “Our fourth intern’s a flake. Junsu’s being investigated for money laundering. Kim Hyoyeon’s working me like a dog per Daddy’s orders. Felt like the pinnacle of travesties, the worst kind of day.” Her fingers curled into Yoona’s. “Then, I heard you on the phone, absolutely petrified about our child and I dropped everything. I gained perspective.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

“Are you finished with her?”

Yoona started, disturbed by Jessica mentioning the affair again. “Done. I erased everything.”

“Not everything,” she whispered, touching their wedding bands. “History lacks a delete key.”

“Our new memories will drown out the bad. I promise.”

“Let’s...just be happy today.”

They shared a small smile until Haeun reappeared. Poor girl seemed breathless--indeed, this final book choice hinged on the cusp of life-altering. Her lip pursed in serious business as she announced, “Dinosaurs! I want Yoomie to read it!”

Purple stegosauruses. Orange raptors.

Yoona’s wide eyes teetered on tears. Neverminding her wife’s smug smirk as she transferred the thicker book into her hands, murmuring, “Your turn.”

...

The evening crawled at a relaxed, leisurely pace. Since the young ones were dressed for bed early, they earned time to disperse and do their own thing prior to sleepytime.

Yoona avoided her study entirely. The room itself wasn’t the harbinger of marriage drama, but it housed too many secretive deeds for her liking. Therefore, she brought her laptop into her and Jessica’s bedroom to review clients’ notes. While typing replies, calculating invoice totals, she grinned through her free entertainment: Jessica and Haeun’s English conversation echoing from the hall.

She finally comprehended the age-old sentiment of ‘I want better for my kids than myself’. Yoona’s English skills remained less-than-basic--all those conflicting rules and unnecessary letters turned her off. Yet, Haeun enunciated almost as fluently as her American-born mother. Yoona couldn’t be prouder; her talkative daughter had the capacity for a hundred languages.

There was something to these extra classes.

Soon, a secondary noise--thumping from the third floor--overruled the foreign chat. More accurately, thump-chiming by none other than Joonie’s ‘xylo’.

His name exited her lips on a whim. “Joon?”

The boy stopped in the center of the open doorway. Rather than speak, two fingers drew into his mouth.

Scared.

“It’s just me, Joon bug.” She cringed; didn’t seem like she won the license to call him that. “Where ya headed?”

Joonie blinked left. To Haeun’s room or his own; it wasn’t apparent.

Yoona slid to laptop to her table and cautiously stepped out of bed. Approaching a target she merely wished to love. “Can Yoomie see your throat? Does it hurt?”

After a glance in the direction of Mummy’s voice, his jaw fell open.

“Come closer. I gotta see.”

He toed a bowlegged path to the woman, dragging the xylophone at his heels.

Yoona hadn’t an idea what to search for; so, she imitated Jessica, poking and prodding. His pink throat wasn’t tense or swollen. “All’s fine.”

“Than’ you, Yoomie.”

“You’re welcome.” She fidgeted like a bashful school girl bothering her crush. Timid, fumbling words. “W-wait. Your throat checks out, but what about your skin?”

Bushbaby eyes examined her, accusing her of insanity.

“Park your xylophone and follow me.”

It took half a minute. Though, Yoona’s muscles unflexed when Joonie tiptoed into the bathroom. She unveiled two padded stools beneath their huge vanity and clicked on lights that made him slap hands over his face.

“Do you want Mummy’s seat or mine?”

“Mummy,” he answered. No surprise.

Joonie swung his scrawny legs, peeping around the white-and-neutral design as Yoona soaked a washcloth in the sink. He wasn’t grumpy and disagreeable like their first bathroom engagement. Of course, he’d be pretty subdued after his allergy episode.

“You know what pores are, Joonie?”

He shook his head.

“They’re itty bitty openings on the skin. Everyone has them.”

“Nuh uh.”

She laughed, wringing the wet cloth. “Yours are tiny and unnoticeable. I’m jealous.” She raised it to his cheek. “May I?”

Pointy eyebrows stilled. “Mummy gave me a bath.”

“Mummy and I give our faces a second bath. Don’t you wanna be like us?”

“Mummy’s always clean.”

Wow. Jessica was their queen. “C’mon. You’ll like this.”

Warily, he permitted Yoona to stroke his face with warm, damp fibers.

Astounding, she thought, how his features mimicked hers. Jawline, eyes, brows, and lips. Not his nose, though. Didn’t make him any less precious. “I’m sorry for the ice cream accident, Joonie. I should’ve paid more attention.”

Joonie stared.

“I wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose.” She tilted his chin up. “Okay? I love you.”

“Yoomie, you cried.”

“Because I was scared of losing you.”

His face contorted, doubtful. “I was there in the car.”

“Not...by...” She’d rather not segway into the death topic. Enough triggers for one day. “Your skin got mega irritated. This treatment will soothe it and you’ll smell nice.”

“Strawberry shor’cake?”

Yoona squirted a stream of toner onto a cotton sheet. “Better. Less artificial.”

“Mummy does this?” he asked, cheeks squishing as Yoona applied the fragrant solution.

“We both do. I have pretty skin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“I like lookin’ at you, Yoomie.”

Yoona couldn’t contain the smile morphing her lips. “Well, uh, you’re good-looking yourself. Very...”

She paused, head-wheels spinning.

“Beautiful or handsome? Which feels more honest?”

The three-year-old gaped. He hadn’t dealt with that sort of question--from her, at least. “Wha’?”

“Should I call you beautiful or handsome?”

He chewed his lip like Jessica. “Call me Joonie.”

“Whatever you say.”

Yoona burrowed in a drawer for hair accessories. A safe black band? A clip with a glass rose? Possibly this tiny bow?

Again, she offered a choice. “Your bangs are in the way. Which do you prefer?”

Joonie nudged a coy finger at the rose clip. “Is this one Mummy’s?”

“No, it’s mine. Wanna wear it?”

“Yes, please.”

“My mom loved roses, too,” Yoona said as she spread mild essence without sticking stray hairs. “Roses and home goods magazines and cherry syrup. Well, my dad and I loved it; she’d whip up a batch every month.”

“Cherries are yum.”

“I don’t know how to make her syrup, unfortunately...” If only Yoona listened to her mother, paid mind to her household lessons. Decidedly, she’d focus on what she could do for her son. “Like to try some eyeshadow?”

He shrank away. Probably convinced that his real mother had been abducted. “You said boys don’ wear makeups.”

“I made a mistake.”

Joonie scratched at his knee, waiting for a past-Yoomie’s ‘gotcha’ moment.

Which didn’t happen.

“Eyeshadow? Yes, no?”

“C-can I...” Joonie gulped, stress marking his every move, “have yellow an' pink an' orange?”

“Three?!” When all color drained from his face, she pinched his cheeks. Damn, even pretend exclaiming spooked the boy. “Tri-color eyeshadow coming right up! In yellow, pink, and orange! Maybe when you’re older, I’ll show you how to contour.”

And Joonie giggled.

What a rare, sweet sound.

Sweeter was his excitement when Yoona unveiled three palettes of glistening shades.

‘Eccentric’ suited Joonie as well as ‘eclectic’. A comfortable Im Minjoon sang to shades that satisfied him--short, melodious hums or whistles. Then, he’d tap the pigment with a fingertip as it were boiling hot and literally glare at it for fifteen seconds.

Delightfully strange--nothing to do with his gender.

He settled on tangerine typhoon, flamingo, and nixed yellow for a classic silver because he’d want that color Batarang. She accepted his logic, tapping a sponge applicator to his skin.

“Yoomie, wha’s ‘freak’ mean?”

The woman blended a wingtip through her shock. “Where’d you hear that word?”

“A girl in homeroom calls me ‘freak’. Freak Joonie.”

He actually volunteered information; Yoona tried to answer appropriately. “Is she bullying you?”

“No.” Joonie winked an eye open to stare. “She shares her cookies with me.”

Hm. “She’s not being nice.”

His eyelid fell back to rest; he really received makeup like a pro.

Empowered, Yoona’s courage prompted, “Growing up, I played a lot of fighting games.”

She absorbed his silence, continuing, “Tekken, Soul Calibur, even one titled, Bloody Roar. I grew an obsession to trading cards. I couldn’t walk in heels. If a family friend gave me a babydoll for a present, I’d break it to see how its eyes blinked. Then, I’d feed the wretched thing to our dog.”

“I like dolls.”

“And that’s okay,” she breathed, rubbing his eyebrow lengthwise. “There are no ‘feminine’ and ‘masculine’ toys. It’s all marketing and politics and boring people who decide that mess. Enjoy whatever you want for as long as you want.”

He pooched his lips for Yoona to dab with gloss. Skepticism laced his expression.

“Joonie, I wore dresses and climbed trees. Collected bugs and adored princess movies. It’s no biggie.”

“Ew, bugs.”

“I’d let them crawl on my face.”

“Ew, ew, ewww!”

“You sound like your Mummy.” Yoona wore her sincerity openly, pouring care into a tender kiss to his cheek. “Don’t be afraid any more, Joonie. I’ll protect you from this day on.”

“You an’ Mummy?” he asked.

“Forever.”

Joonie flapped his arm-wings once Yoona angled him to the vanity mirror. Careful not to smudge these brilliant, artful eyes, he pressed a pinky to the silver. When a light layer dotted there, his cheerful shriek was deafening. And Yoona endured it. Because a simple pampering session thrilled him to pieces.

“You’re lookin’ so Joonie!” Transforming to Im Shady, Yoona rhyme-rapped his name on the fly. Noonie-Sunni-Spoony-Maroony-George Clooney.

“Not fair!” Haeun exclaimed at the bathroom door, crashing their party. “You put makeup on Joonie!”

Yoona shrugged. “That I did.”

Jessica appeared in time for their daughter to tattle. “Mummy, you said we’re not old enough for that!”

“You’re not,” the woman agreed, elation plain in the shine in her eyes. “Yoomie and Joonie are bonding.”

“Bond with me, too,” Haeun whined. “Paint a purple sunrise on my eyes, please!”

Yoona stood and offered her seat. “You know exactly what you want, huh?”

“Can we wear it to school tomorrow?”

“No!” the mothers barked in unison. For some reason, that forged a blushful lull between them.

“Yoomie will do Haeun’s eyeshadow while I style Joonie’s hair.”

Yoona shivered at Jessica’s sly pat to her backside. “Hope I get compensated for this.”

“You will.” Her wife’s eyebrow arched. Patently suggestive. “I’ll pay you myself.”

Haeun and Joonie went to bed late. Worth it for cosmetic therapy, a thirty-minute photoshoot, and the struggle to clean children who insisted on sleeping with their ‘faces on’.

Blessed with a new favorite photo (all four of them, at last), Yoona punched Haeun’s birthday into her phone for the greatest lockscreen image in all of smartphone history.

The night also rectified after hours’ passion. Jessica’s legs snaked around Yoona, fanning the flames of their fiery make out session. Bite marks, throaty panting--guaranteed sex. Sex she’d been crazy for.

Although, Yoona stopped a hand’s journey into her shorts.

A day of progress should be finalized by only kisses, hearts beating as one. And since Yoona swung on a shabby thread of self-restraint for months, it’d be unwise to snap just yet. This heat-of-the-moment intimacy could provoke anger in the morning.

She’d wait until ‘purgatory lite’ ended.

“Rain check. Remember, Sica?”

Yoona flipped to her side. Proud of her decision.

Her dignity inflated tenfold as she eyed Jessica’s silhouette. Hair wrung, knees pinned, chest movements volatile. Downright radiating frustration.

Suffering.





Haaaaaaayyyy, lovely people. So, I got a double-project $$ extravaganza $$ coming up this week, so I doubt I'll have the lady juices to put out a chapter this upcoming weekend. That should be the last week-long break before this ongoing's final parts. ^^

YES, THE END IS NEAR. Please don't forget to drop a line~ //offers moderately seductive lap dance

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