Archive of Our Own

There’s a bead of sweat on Minho’s forehead as she climbs the stairs to Jeongin’s flat. She carries one of Jeongin’s larger boxes, still insisting on being stronger than her little sister, and Jeongin lets her. Her hair is loosely held up with a hair clip, single strands framing her face. 

‘This better be the last one,’ she says when passing Jeongin who holds open the door for her. Minho saw the back of the car, she knows that there’s one more box. She just likes to say these type of things.

‘You’re out of shape,’ Jeongin states, crossing her arms. Minho put the box in the middle of the room, totally in the way, no matter where you want to go. Annoying. 

Minho gives her a glare that would be intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know her but Jeongin sees the faux irritation. ‘And you’re not even helping, honey.’

Jeongin shrugs and looks around. Her new room. Blank walls, grey doors, a small window. The linoleum sticks to her socks. The furniture is boring at best, impractical and ugly. There’s boxes stacked in the free corner and one big box in the middle of the room, a large holdall sits on the unmade bed, taking up the entire width. 

It could be worse. At least it’s cheap and she doesn’t have to worry about her parents hearing her vibrator at night. 

Minho has made herself comfortable on the bed with her phone in hand. There’s a hint of a smile on her face, the kind she only gets when something is amusing to her in a mean way. Like when a toddler falls face first into mud. Or when she makes Jeongin’s blood rush to her face.

‘How’s Seungmin?’ Jeongin sits down on the table and plants her feet on the chair.

‘Hm?’ Minho doesn’t notice her, too absorbed in the messages from her boyfriend, and it makes an irrational anger rise in Jeongin’s chest. Not the boiling, hot, and fiery type, but the one that rises and while receding sticks to every organ, every muscle fibre, every cell, coating her insides. While it never truly shows, it keeps her on edge at all times. 

‘Is he also gonna come and look at my beautiful room?’

Minho raises her eyebrows but her eyes stick to the screen. ‘Would you want that?’

Jeongin looks at her feet and rubs them together. The white of the socks is a muddy brown on the bottom. ‘He’s family.’

‘Right.’ Minho is distracted again. Maybe it’s not Seungmin’s messages after all.

She’s grown used to it by now. It’s been years since she put a name to that bone-deep longing, even more years since she first felt it. Looking at Minho and feeling like the skin peels from her flesh, like nothing matters but every wink thrown her way, like her heart caves in and her muscles weaken and nothing is the same as it was before, everything has slightly shifted, neither for the better nor the worse, but Minho stays the same as ever, grounding and secure and steady, calm in a way that can only come from confidence.

She’s always been this way. Unwavering.

It was clear for everyone who knew Minho that she’d go places in her life. She isn’t reaching for the stars, hell, she isn’t even reaching for the top shelf in her kitchen, but somehow she still manages to catch shooting stars. And the ISS too while she’s at it. 

It’s not that Minho is lazy or anything the like. She studies hard for becoming a veterinarian and stays in the practice room to go through the choreographies only one last time until her body gives in and she physically can’t anymore. She’s always pushing herself, not to reach a specific milestone, but to prove to herself that she’s capable of it if she wants to. If she wants something, she simply goes and takes it, however much effort it requires. If she wants something, no star is far enough for her to not be able to reach it. But if she doesn’t want it – well, she doesn’t even move her little finger or look up from her phone for it. 

Jeongin yanks her bag from the bed and opens the wardrobe to sort in her clothes, fold them and put them on hangers.

Minho’s always been ahead of her and not even their age gap justifies the difference between them. When Minho was 13, she could cook several meals that their whole family loved; when Jeongin was 13, she could barely fry eggs properly. When Minho was 15, she fixed their clogged drain in the bathroom; when Jeongin was 15, she almost cried in response to the washing machine beeping and showing dangerous-looking red signs. When Minho was 18, she paced around their old home, barely containing her excitement at her imminent independence; A few weeks ago, when Jeongin turned 18, she kept having several breakdowns about moving out and exchanging everything she knows for everything she doesn’t.

There’s a lightyears worth distance between them and Jeongin knows. Minho knows, too, and she revels in it.

Jeongin is so absorbed in the task to sort her shirts by colour that she only notices Minho when she’s speaking directly into her ear.

‘I’m going home now.’

Jeongin gasps and drops the shirt she was holding, a simple white band shirt she adores an unhealthy amount. That got nothing to do with the fact that Minho bought it for her at a concert. Not at all.

Minho grins, slightly crooked and easy-going. Her eyes flit to the tee and the grin becomes wider, a little meaner.

‘All right,’ Jeongin says when she catches herself. She picks up the tee and puts it to the very left on the clothing rack. 

Minho keeps staring at her with an expression of… amusement? Jeongin can’t tell.

‘If you wanna go, then go.’

Minho huffs a laugh and reaches up until she cups Jeongin’s face, grabs both her cheeks and squishes them like their grandma used to.

‘My little baby sister,’ she coos. ‘How much you’ve grown.’

Jeongin makes a face but otherwise no move to remove herself from the hold. She doesn’t like being touched, and definitely not this way, but her cheeks start burning and the buried desire presses against the wall she’s built. Nothing new.

‘Can’t believe you’re out of diapers already.’

That makes Jeongin smack her on the shoulder. ‘Yah! Stuff it.’

Minho backs away, like a cat that pushed the glass off the table, got scolded and doesn’t regret it at all. A steady glint in her eyes.

‘You can’t escape me. See you around.’

And with that, Minho turns on her heels and walks out of the room. Jeongin imagines her striding down the stairs, climbing into her car and turning the key.

It’s only when Minho passed Jeongin’s window that she realises there’s still a box left in her car.

The towel under Jeongin’s ass is too rough and the sun is mean today. It’s too hot, almost unbearably so, even staying in the shade makes her skin sticky with sweat. She wonders if it ruins her new bikini, if it still looks good on her when it sticks to her skin like a magnet. She bought it last week, frilly and exposed, with small strawberries and ribbons on her hips and between her boobs. She thought it looked cute. The way some guys look at her implies that it’s probably more than just that but she tries not to let it bother her. It’s all right , she tells herself. Minho is with me. She’ll protect me .

Something cold hits her back.

‘Yah!’ she screams, jumping up.

Minho is behind her when she turns around, mischief dancing on her face and a water pistol in her hand. Of course. 

She didn’t expect to go to the swimming pool today. When she came home from school, Minho was just about to pack their rainbow patterned towel in her duffel bag. She spotted Jeongin as she trudged towards her room, school uniform still on and backpack over her shoulder. She probably looked terrible, sweaty and exhausted from the way home. 

‘I’m going to the pool with my friends, Innie,’ she said and grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen table. ‘Come with me.’

Jeongin tried to protest, just a little, just because she could and she likes to see Minho persuading her, but in the end caved in and changed into her strawberry bikini and normal clothes. It’s the last summer with her sister living at home, she might as well make the most out of it. And if that means chasing Minho around the pool, so be it.

Jeongin is dizzy when she finally catches up to her. It’s too hot to run, too sunny to be anywhere but in the shade. Her sister could’ve outrun her without effort, but she slows down after running slalom around four or five trees and lets Jeongin grab the pistol.

She doesn’t let go of it though, shooting water squirts at her. It’s cold, but refreshingly so, and she giggles at the sensation. When she looks up from where she has the pistol in a tight hold, Minho looks at her with a funny expression. The one she makes when she watches Naruto and someone is about to get thrashed in the most unserious way possible. 

Before anything can register in Jeongin’s brain, she is upside down facing Minho’s bare back with the water pistol in her hand and Minho is half-running-half-walking towards the pool and there’s the ghost of a hand on her ass before she is thrown into the cold cold water. Her whole body is engulfed by the cold. It picks on her skin like needles. Her heart is beating. Furiously. Pumping adrenaline through her veins. 

She slashes and flails her hands around until she finally, finally breathes air again. She rubs over her eyes and pushes her hair out of her face and shakes her head until the world makes sense again. The first thing she sees upon opening her eyes is her sister, obviously fallen into the water as well, but she already caught herself again and stands in the pool. The water line begins right under her chest, under her tits in that obnoxiously pretty bikini top. Her forehead is free, a rare sight, she’s had a fringe ever since Jeongin can remember.

‘Gotcha,’ is all Minho says. She shows her teeth in a rather unflattering way but nothing she ever does makes her look anything close to ugly, really.

‘Tch.’ Jeongin suddenly remembers the pistol and looks around. It’s floating on the surface, barely a metre away from her. She grabs it and aims at Minho’s chest, straight at the heart like a rookie hitman.

But she just laughs, bright and amused. ‘I’m already wet, darling.’

Sometimes Jeongin forgets that they are sisters. Sometimes she wishes she could forget.

‘Unnie. Unnie I can’t sleep.’

Jeongin’s had a bad dream. There were ants all over her room, on her skin and in between her thighs and crawling into her ears and eyes and mouth until she couldn’t hear or see or speak anymore. She was terrified. When she woke up, she couldn’t move for a minute.

She hears Minho shuffling in her bed. A drawer opens and closes.

‘You didn’t wake mum and dad, did you?’

‘No.’ Jeongin shakes her head even though Minho can’t see her in the dark. ‘‘Course not.’ 

She’s too old to be waking up her parents. Hell, she’s too old to be knocking on her sister’s door in the middle of the night, not-quite-but-still-kinda-asking to stay with her, but she does it anyway because the only other option would be to stay in her room. Alone. And, no. Not gonna happen.

‘Good. Okay. Good. C’mere.’ 

She hears Minho move on the bed and taps ahead until her fingers find the familiar bed frame. Soft sheet, comfortable duvet. She slips right under the covers and presses herself close to Minho. She is warm. A bit sweaty maybe, making her comforting scent stronger. Jeongin could stay here till the day she dies.

Minho hums and runs her hands through Jeongin’s hair. She is gentle, attentive in a way that makes Jeongin want to hide, and careful enough to not actually scare her away. 

‘Bad dream?’ She whispers.

Jeongin nods against her chest.

‘It’s all right. You’re okay. Nothing or no one can hurt you here.’ She presses a soft kiss to the top of Jeongin’s head. ‘You’re safe.’

Jeongin grabs the back of Minho’s shoulder tighter. She feels safe. She is safe. Minho is strong and brave and cool, she’d face every single ant in a one on one fist fight and win, even if the ants brought knives. She’s just that rad.

Minho’s reassuring hands and the warmth of her body gently rock Jeongin to sleep, no bad dreams in sight. She’d feel so lonely without her sister.

‘What’s it like, being on your own?’, Ryujin asks.

On the second evening in her own flat, Jeongin sits hunched up in front of her computer (one of the few things she’s packed out of the boxes so far) and plays Minecraft with her friends. She’s wearing her pink headphones with cat ears that she usually would be embarrassed about but Minho got them for her on her last birthday – she had asked if there was something Jeongin wanted and the younger sent her the link as a joke, assuming Minho would just get her another Steam voucher, but then she opened the suspiciously big package and almost banged her head on the floor in front of their parents while Minho just grinned. She’s never used her old ones ever since.

Beomgyu pipes in, ‘Tell me you’ve eaten anything else than takeout or ramen and you’re a liar.’

Jeongin hits him with her pickaxe. ‘Unnie’s brought me her leftover tteokbokki earlier.’

Ryujin huffs. ‘Of course she did. Oh! Iron.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’ve always been her favourite.’

‘It’s not like she has other siblings,’ mumbles Jeongin. 

‘You know that’s not what I mean.’

She doesn’t. Not really, not in a way that would make sense to her brain. She’s Minho’s sister, of course that makes her special in a way, doesn’t it? Though she doesn’t want to probe what Ryujin said, doesn’t want to poke into anthill lest she unleashes something she’s not ready for. 

There’s a sign on the floor that says Caution: Slippery Floor as if this isn’t a literal public shower. Jeongin thinks it’s funny. She unwraps the rainbow patterned towel and puts it in a cabinet on the shelf. Her slippers make a squeaky sound when she walks over to one of the showers and she’s glad that she’s alone, not only because of her slippers, but also because she isn’t much of a nudist. Not really her thing. 

Minho and her friends are outside, some of them still sunbathing, some already packing their things. Jeongin excused herself with the feeble excuse that, when she comes back, she can have an eye on their things while they shower. There are lockers, but hey, it worked and Jeongin is alone. She’d really not like to see Minho and her friends butt naked much less have them see her like that. 

Not that they aren’t pretty, maybe exactly that is the problem. They are all pretty girls while Jeongin feels like a. Well. A tacky mass-produced plastic bowl among unique handmade pottery. Both bowls, alright, but worlds apart in a way that can’t be crossed by merely doing skincare or eating healthy, in a way that waiting for her to grow into her skin and bones can’t solve. 

It’s all right. She’s fine, really. Made peace with being herself.

Really.

She’s just about to wash her face under the water jet when she hears the door open. It’s cool, she’s almost done anyway. She just needs to get to her towel and she’s out of here. One more time she wipes over her face. The other person’s slippers are squeaky, just like her own. Her hand moves to turn off the shower head, not quite reaching it yet. The squeaky slippers move towards her. A shadow of a person next to her. A familiar presence.

Jeongin looks over when Minho turns on the shower and sighs. She has her head tipped back, unblemished skin of her neck exposed, pale despite the hot summer sun, and the lashes of her closed eyes cast a faint shadow under the bright lights from above. Her lips are parted, slightly, showing the front row of her perfect white teeth. 

Jeongin wanted to leave, but Minho is right next to her and she feels electrocuted. 

Minho’s hands roam from her shoulders down her arms, back up and under her armpits, then down her sides and slightly towards to where she can reach the side of her back. Her hands find their way back over her shoulder down the top of her back, then back to her front, her chest. She grabs both her tits at the same time and sighs.

Jeongin should leave. Immediately. She has finished showering. She should not, absolutely, under any circumstances, stand under the pouring water and watch her sister, of all people, wash herself in what feels like a lewd way. This is not what sane, normal people do. 

But she lost that sane and normal part of her a long time ago. Maybe it was never there to begin with. Maybe she’s always been this deranged, this rotten. Sour milk boils in her stomach, and it should make her puke, throw it up with all the sickness, but she wants to swallow more. More milk, more putrid desire, more of this.

More of Minho looking at her, half-closed eyes and pink ears. The boiling fluid in her stomach transforms into a tight knot. Minho looks at her, really looks at her, she scans her from head to toe, up and down, taking her time as if they were the only people in the world. Maybe they are. Who even cares what’s going on outside. 

Her eyes land on Jeongin’s hand. Minho reaches out, takes Jeongin by the wrist. There’s a fire where Minho touches her, too gentle, too kind, and an electric signal zips through her body, rendering her motionless. Somebody took her mind and put it in the body of a puppet, a strange being, not her own.

Minho looks Jeongin in the eyes, so intensely that Jeongin thinks she’ll burst into flames any second, despite the water still pouring down on her. It wouldn’t matter, nothing would. It’s like Minho transforms all of her knowledge of Jeongin into one single gaze, transmitting a message, looking for a response. Looking for something.

Whatever she’s looking for, she doesn’t find it. Resistance, maybe. Hesitation. Jeongin couldn’t find it herself if she rummaged through her guts. There’s only plain, blistering hot and white craving. Pure in its turpitude.

Jeongin takes a slow breath, careful not to let any air go to waste. She waits for Minho to smile, to laugh and tell her to go dress up, or else she’s gonna get washed down the drain, she waits for her to ask what she’s staring at, amusement on her lips, smiling any remaining seriousness away – anything to tell her that this is a joke, this is not real.

But she doesn’t. Minho places Jeongin’s hand on her right breast. Right over her nipple. She can feel it, hard against her palm. She doesn’t dare to move her hand, doesn’t dare to move much of anything, she only stands and stares and feels, intensely, Minho’s smooth and wet and hot skin. Jeongin wants to touch the other side, too, with her other hand, cup both of Minho’s tits, massage them, lick over her nipples and suck on them. 

She’s always tried to suppress it. This sick desire.

Now, Minho punched a hole into the thick brick wall Jeongin has built. Now, it floods out of her, slow like lava, dripping down her bare skin and pooling around her feet on the white tiles. It makes a pretty picture, the white walls and floor and Jeongin, naked, coated in sticky red that doesn’t wash off with water, with nothing. It’s steadily pulsing in the rhythm of her heartbeat. It belongs to her, and integral part of her carnal core, and it’s open and out for all to see.

Minho sees it, has seen it before, hidden. Slowly, the red makes its way towards her, it’s on the tiles underneath her and dripping from under Jeongin’s hand. 

There’s no back to before anymore once someone has peeled off your skin with surgeon’s precision and put it back on. Exactly the way it’s supposed to be, but it feels different. You know that someone has seen the truth underneath, every muscle and tendon, and you walk through the world expecting everybody to see it, too.

(You can’t have someone take out your insides and put them back without it feeling different than before.)

When Jeongin was ten, she knew that she would never marry a man. A few years later she sees two women kiss on her sister’s phone and something in her brain shifts into its correct place. Like a pot that’s been standing on the kitchen isle for a while until someone finally made the effort to put it in its spot in the cabinet.

She knows about sex, but she never talked about it with anyone. In school they learned to use condoms and wait until they meet someone they love while half the class was asleep or staring out of the window. Her parents taught her to say no when she doesn’t want something and told her to not get pregnant. The porn she watches when she gets bored doesn’t tell her anything about pleasuring a woman, despite there only being women on the screen. 

It feels boring and exciting. It keeps her up at night when she thinks about small boobs and strong thighs and wet pussy. It makes her feel guilty and want more of it. She doesn’t know what to do with these thoughts, she juggles with them, repeating the same fantasies over and over again, until they slip out of her hands and roll onto the floor, no hand to pick them up, no basket to put them in. 

Sometimes she touches her own pussy, but it doesn’t feel right, it never does. When she gets bored of it, she stops and tries to sleep. The thoughts stay. She sleeps. And the cycle repeats.

Jeongin opens her door.

‘Ding dong,’ Minho says.

‘Well, hello there.’

She had expected her. Minho texted yesterday that she’d be coming over to bring the box they forgot in the car. What she didn’t say was that Seungmin would be coming along.

‘Long time no see, Jeongin-ah.’

She smiles and raises her chin. ‘Welcome to the most beautiful mansion you’ll ever see, I guess.’

Seungmin chuckles and enters after Minho. He puts the box he was carrying on a chair and looks around. Being around Seungmin is easier than it should be, easier than she feels she deserves. They share the same type of humour – mainly because Jeongin copy-pasted hers from Minho – and their aversion for unsolicited physical affection. 

‘What, no five course meal for your guests?’ Minho asks from the bed. Of course she’s made herself at home already. Seungmin stands awkwardly in the room when he no longer has the box to hold onto, and he decides to look out of the window.

Jeongin scoffs. ‘Offering: buldak ramen, jjajang ramen, shin ramen, veggie ramen, and,’  she takes the package from the stack on the table. ‘Cheese spicy hot chicken flavoured ramen noodles.’

She looks up only to meet Minho’s face of utter disappointment. 

‘At least she got five different ones,’ Seungmin says from where he leans against the windowsill. ‘Could be worse for her taste buds.’

‘It literally couldn’t.’

‘I also have cereal.’

Minho sighs but Jeongin sees the hint of a smile that she tries to hide. ‘You’re making it worse, Innie.’

After some consideration of her (seriously miserable) assembly of food, they put some crackers into a bowl and decide to play the game that was inside of the box to inaugurate Jeongin’s new room. Singular, she only owns a set of uno cards. 

They sit on the floor in a triangle-resembling shape, the stacks of cards in the middle. Whenever Seungmin plays a draw two or draw four card, Minho never adds one of her own to it so Jeongin never has to draw cards. When it’s reverse, Minho plays all of her draw cards after the other, so mostly Seungmin falls victim to them. 

‘Noona.’

Minho just played her second draw four card in a row. Obviously Seungmin is the next player. She looks at him, doe-like eyes and faux-innocence printed onto her face. ‘Hm?’

‘Jeongin’s gonna win if you do that.’ He sighs, resigned.

Minho blinks. ‘Oh. Didn’t notice that.’

Seungmin scoffs but moves to draw cards nonetheless.

Jeongin slams her last card on the pile and says, ‘Uno uno.’

Her sister sighs, overly exaggerated, and throws her cards haphazardly on the floor. ‘Man, what a surprise,’ she yawns and leans back against the bed frame.

Seungmin just shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile evident on his face. He moves to sort the cards into proper piles again when suddenly Sweet Chaos by Day6 rings loudly through the room over the lofi playlist that Jeongin has put on.

Minho grabs Seungmin’s phone from where it had been lying beside her and looks at the screen. An unidentifiable expression haunts her features for a split second before she hands it over to her boyfriend. ‘Your brother.’

Seungmin takes the phone and stands up to walk to the window in order to gain some sense of privacy. There isn’t any of that in a 15 qm room.

‘Hyung,’ he says.

Jisung on the other end of the line is unintelligible for the sisters. Minho looks at her and shrugs.

Seungmin hums several times, indicating that he listens to whatever his brother says. 

‘All right, yeah. I’ll be on my way. Yup. Don’t worry. Yes. See you.’

He hangs up and pockets his phone. ‘I gotta go. Hyung needs me.’

Minho quirks her eyebrows. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Family business,’ Seungmin shakes her off. She scoffs but drops the topic.

‘Jeongin-ah.’ She stands up to give Seungmin a quick half-hug. ‘It was nice seeing you again. Hope you like it here in the city.’

She shrugs. ‘Let’s see. Was nice seeing you too. You’re welcome to drop by anytime.’

Seungmin slips into his shoes. ‘You too.’

Then he turns to Minho, who is still sitting leaning against the bed, unmoving. ‘See you later, jagi. I’ll text you.’

She nods in approval but stays silent. Seungmin doesn’t seem too bothered at that. After he has grabbed his jacket, he opens the door and slips out with a * Bye* directed at no one in particular.

Jeongin says it back quietly. 

Minho has a boyfriend. That’s not news, it’s like saying that the sun is shining. News is that she brings him home. She has never brought anyone home to meet the family, not even her six-month-long-girlfriend-slash-soulmate from last year with which she mysteriously ended things.

His name is Seungmin and they’ve been dating for four months and seven days (Minho keeps track, which is also new). He’s younger than her but older than Jeongin and he studies law and his hair is almost too neatly parted and his windbreaker just casual enough to not make him look too smart. Jeongin hates him already. 

‘Jeongin, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you already.’ His teeth are threateningly white and his smile too polite. If Seungmin keeps acting like that he’ll have their parents wrapped around his finger within seconds, that’s for sure.

Jeongin bites back the acid in her throat and smiles. ‘Me too, nice to meet you.’ 

They’re in the living room. Seungmin and Minho arrived earlier today and were picked up from the train station by their parents while Jeongin stayed home. She could’ve joined but then she thought about sitting squeezed next to Seungmin in the backseat. Or worse, Minho.

Their mother emerges from the kitchen and puts five mugs on the coffee table. ‘Who wants coffee?’

‘Me,’ Minho and Jeongin say at the same time.

‘Jinx!’ Minho says faster, triumph in her eyes when she squints them at Jeongin. The latter rolls her eyes.

Their father slightly shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He looks at Seungmin who says, ‘I’d like one too, please,’ and smiles innocently.

‘Of course, darling.’

Oh god, they’re already at nicknames. Jeongin feels like she has lost. Seungmin already took her place in a stride, pushing her out of the frame of attention she’s been trying to occupy her life. Maybe it was never her spot to begin with, maybe she only kept it warm and cozy until Seungmin came to take what’s his. The place on Minho’s side, under the warm regard of their parents.

When Jeongin brought her ex-girlfriend, it was different. Firstly because they used to be friends before and have visited each other’s homes platonically, so there was no big this-is-my-girlfriend-introduction to be done. Secondly, she wasn’t as dapper, adaptable, and, well, put-together. She was just a teen like Jeongin herself, awkward around parents and not yet grown to feel comfortable in her skin. She was nice, yes, but she wasn’t daughter-in-law-material like Seungmin. Hell, he’s a guy and probably more daughter-in-law to her parents than her ex-girlfriend ever was.

She was a good girlfriend though. She liked Jeongin enough to ask her out after a few months of knowing her, she held her hands in a gentle way, and gave Jeongin soft kisses all over her face. She put a picture of both of them as her lockscreen, she let Jeongin take her dog whenever they went out on a walk, and she baked Jeongin a strawberry cake on her birthday. Jeongin liked her, she really did, but only when the other girl broke up with her did she realise that what she has felt was actually just platonic affection.

‘Well, Seungmin, I’m glad to finally meet you and that you’re here so Minho can show you all around town,’ their father starts the conversation after a few moments of silence.

Seungmin smiles politely. ‘The pleasure is all mine.’ He looks at Minho. ‘I’m sure she’ll show me around.’

Their mother enters the living room carrying a steaming pot and milk. It smells wonderful, freshly brewed coffee. 

‘Do you want sugar?’ she asks Seungmin.

He shakes his head and his hair bounces slightly. ‘No thank you, just milk is fine.’

Never asking for too much, never taking too little. Just right in the middle between brash and offensive. He’s too perfect.

They fall into simple small talk. Why he studies law (to help people, apparently, but Jeongin thinks that’s not entirely true), what he likes to do in his free time (writing articles and singing), if he has any siblings (yes, one older brother), and what his favourite dish is so they can make it for dinner (he says he likes everything, but especially food that’s not as spicy as Minho likes).

Jeongin doesn’t participate. She watches the way Seungmin’s eyes attentively stay on their faces for the right amount of time, how he laughs at the expected moments and every so often looks at Minho with little hearts in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s calculated or if he’s being his real self. But she wishes she was more like him.

It’s familiar, that feeling of invisibility. Disappearing when her sister is present, even stronger now with another added person.

Later that evening, after their mother prepared and served bibimbap for all of them, their parents already gone to bed and Minho currently in the bathroom to wash herself, Seungmin approaches Jeongin. She’s lounging on the couch, watching fashion hauls on youtube.

‘Jeongin-ah,’ he says and flops down next to her at an appropriate distance.

She looks up. ‘Hey.’

Jeongin didn’t stay completely silent, they did exchange a few words (when he off-handedly mentioned having watched Chainsaw Man – of course it was Minho who convinced him – or when he talked about that Day6 concert he’s been to recently).

Seungmin looks at her like he’s trying to read her feelings, analyse them and lay them out for the judge to assess. Or maybe he is the judge, studying law and all that.

‘I’m gonna be blunt.’

Jeongin breathes in. ‘Okay.’

‘Do you dislike me?’

And Jeongin understands why Minho likes him. Honest and straightforward but not uncouth. No unnecessary complications. Good judgement.

Does he know?

Know what, exactly? That Jeongin obsesses over her sister like a koala over eucalyptus? That she’s the only thing she wants, needs? It’s not exactly… a secret. Just. The extent of it all.

She should protest, probably, No, not at all! What even makes you think that?, but she knows that he would look right through it, exposing her even more. It feels wrong to lie to him anyway when he’s so close to her sister.

Jeongin chuckles awkwardly. ‘That’s not what I was expecting you to ask.’

Seungmin smiles, a gentle expression taking over his face. ‘I won’t be offended by the truth.’

Again, does he know?

Jeongin picks on her nails. She believes him, he doesn’t seem like the type to get offended. He seems good at pretending when it’s necessary and honest to his core when it matters.

Should she tell him, My sister doesn’t tell me much about you but when she does it makes me think we’re more alike than I’d like. I’m supposed to like you but I don’t want to like you. I wish she wasn’t in love with you, I wish you weren’t with her. I wish she’d notice me instead.

‘I don’t know you very well, that’s why I’m like that,’ she settles on saying. It’s not a lie.

Seungmin nods, understanding. Why does he have to be so damn nice? Why can’t he make it easier for Jeongin to hate him? She wants to. She wants to so bad.

When he speaks, his voice is firm yet gentle like he’s speaking to a scared deer. ‘I just want you to understand that I’m not taking your sister away. She’s still yours.’

Still mine.

Minho is still leaning against the bedframe, staring holes into the wall opposite.

‘Unnie.’ No reaction. Jeongin flicks her on the forehead. ‘Unnie. Are you okay?’

She snaps out of her trance and looks at Jeongin, kneeling beside her. The empty expression her face is replaced by the familiar playful smile.

‘Of course I am.’ 

Lie. But she isn’t going to call Minho out on it. She feels like it’s not her place to do that, when there’s obviously something going on between the couple. She’s just Minho’s sister.

‘All right,’ she says. ‘Wanna help me put the cards back?’ 

Minho doesn’t move. Her eyes are on Jeongin but she looks somewhere else, distant, far inside her own mind. Jeongin hasn’t experienced her like that very often. The only time was when Minho received yet another rejection from a potential landlord and thought she had to stay home for longer. She stays seated on the floor.

‘Unnie, you’re scaring me a bit.’ Jeongin’s voice is quiet. The lofi music feels too loud. 

Minho’s eyes switch back into reality. Like some little guy inside her brain flicked the switch, click, and she’s here again, in Jeongin’s own little room, looking right at her. Looking really at her. Her gaze is intense, right into her sister’s same brown pupils. She feels paralysed. Like prey. Crowded into a corner, no escape route, limping. Fear rising, slowly and steadily, from her fingernails over the goosebumps on her skin to her racing heart. But yet — it’s not bad. Weirdly, she likes it.

She doesn’t dare to move. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Minho’s eyes dart down her face, then back up. Since when is she this close? Jeongin could count her eyelashes, they’re long and dark and frame her eyes beautifully, curved upwards. When she highlights them with her makeup, she always looks a little extra pretty. Her iris is steady as she fixes Jeongin into place without touching her. 

She’s closer now, Jeongin isn’t imagining it, she’s sure. They’re mere centimetres apart, and she starts panicking. Minho must be playing with her, for sure, just fucking around a little, she’ll move away and grab the uno cards and laugh at how easy it is to frighten Jeongin. She’ll get up and grab her jacket and phone and leave, leave after Seungmin and Jeongin will be stuck at home with the realisation that she wants nothing more than for Minho to just come a little closer, a little bit more, and more, and more until there’s no air in between them, no nothing.

She wants it so much, Minho must see it. She’s always seen right through Jeongin.

And then she’s there, right where she needs to be. She kisses Jeongin, a gentle peck, and moves away by a milimetre. Jeongin feels her breath against her lips. Her chest is tight, barely trying to contain her pumping heart, and she’s unlearned everything she ever knew. Minho kissed her. God, Minho kissed her. 

Her lips are a ghost on her’s. Minho’s nose brushes against Jeongin’s cheek. 

‘Tell me you want this as much as I do,’ Minho whispers and Jeongin swallows the words. I do. I do I do I do I do.

She nods, barely. Her mind still hasn’t found its way back into her body, unable to move. Minho looks serious, intense. She hasn’t moved away a bit. Jeongin starts counting her lashes, one, two, three. Four. So many.

‘Tell me.’ Her voice is firm.

Jeongin gulps. Five, six, seven. Some of them stick together. When she tries to speak, her voice is hoarse but she’s surprised to make any sound at all.

‘I do. I want this. A lot.’

Minho is on her, crashing her lips against Jeongin’s. Without thinking, her mouth opens and their teeth collide, it makes a noise, and when Jeongin breathes out it comes as a whimper. Minho starts sucking on her lips, dragging her tongue over it and she bites, gentle yet harsh. It hurts and Jeongin wants more. 

It wakes her up a little, she feels her hands again and her fingertips are tingling, but not the bad kind. This is the good kind. The one that makes her chest expand and a tight knot form in her lower abdomen. She moves one hand to grab Minho’s hair at the nape and tugs on it experimentally. Minho hums and pushes her tongue inside Jeongin’s mouth. She roams it along her teeth, struggling against Jeongin’s own tongue, exploring the inner part of her mouth. 

Minho’s hands find their way to Jeongin’s hips on each side and she pulls her into her lap. Jeongin gasps in surprise and they part only so far their foreheads are leaned against each other. She breathes out, shaky. Her groin throbs and they haven’t even done anything.

She kissed Minho. She kissed Minho.

‘Innie…’ Minho’s voice is so soft, velvety and sweet. It sticks to her like syrup. ‘My sweet, sweet little sister.’

Realisation snaps like an ankle. She kissed her sister . Hell, she got wet kissing her sister. 

‘We…,’ she starts, ‘we probably shouldn’t be doing this, right?’

She’s buzzing, inside her a swarm of horny bees. It makes her sick.

One side of Minho’s mouth turns up for a second but long enough for Jeongin to catch. Is this all just a game to her? Jeongin feels like walking into an open fire and Minho is amused?

‘No, probably not.’ She gives Jeongin a kiss, slow like she wants to remember the feeling. Jeongin’s heart palpitates, it feels like it’s going round in circles. ‘But I honestly don’t give a flying fuck.’ 

Her hands draw patterns on Jeongin’s hip, steady and firm, almost grounding. 

‘Tell me to stop and I will,’ she looks and Jeongin and she knows Minho means it, ‘but I doubt you will.’

Then she draws Jeongin closer by her hip, back to devouring her mouth. She moves her hands to her ass and kneads it. Jeongin is already so turned on it’s embarrassing, a soft moan escapes her lips but she finds it hard to care. Whatever. They’ve already crossed the big red line. The line between I love my sister a normal and healthy amount and I want my sister to bite my skin raw and rearrange my guts. They did it the moment they kissed, or maybe that time at the swimming pool, or maybe even way, way back when Jeongin saw Minho’s tits and didn’t feel envy, but jealousy that other people are allowed to touch them, but not she. 

Their parents aren’t going to find out, because how would they? Nobody can disturb them here. Seungmin is gone, busy. Jeongin’s neighbours don’t know her or Minho. Nobody’s going to find out.

Jeongin moves her hips, grinding against Minho. There’s nothing really to grind against, no friction, and a desperate noise leaves her lips.

Minho chuckles. ‘Baby, we haven’t even done anything and you’re already so worked up, hm?’

The knot in Jeongin’s groin tightens. God, she should’ve known she liked them a little mean, a little condescending. Because of course she does and Minho seemed to know before she did.

She rakes her hand through Minho’s hair and with the other cups the soft skin and thumbs over her cheekbone. Her skin is hot, the tips of her ears are red. Her pupils are slightly dilated, she’s staring holes in Jeongin’s face, and Jeongin knows that Minho is just pretending to be unaffected. Like she usually does.

‘You’re one to talk.’

Minho narrows her eyes but doesn’t deny. Instead, she pushes Jeongin up by the hip until they’re both standing and in a swift motion pushes her onto the bed. It creaks so loud that Jeongin is afraid it might break. But then Minho crawls over her and kisses her again and she really couldn’t care less. If the bed is that bad of a quality, it should be replaced without a fuss. But God, how embarrassing that would be, broke my bed not even a week into moving in. 

Whatever. Stop worrying. Keep kissing Minho. Her lovely, mean, safe, and perilous sister. Jeongin doesn’t know whether she likes the fact that they’re sisters, or if she wants to forget it. If Minho were a stranger, if she saw her next week on campus, would she be enthralled just the same? Would she look at her after passing by, look away and then look again because, wow, look at her? Would she still daydream about touching her, kissing her, fucking her? Would the desire in her guts be so all-consuming it swallowed her whole as well? Would she give everything just for Minho to look at her?

Maybe. Probably.

It doesn’t matter. Because Minho is here, in Jeongin’s room, pressing her into the mattress like she’d touch a bruise, unrelenting, just to see how much it hurts. She’s kissing down her jaw, her neck, grazing the skin with her teeth and sucking on it. Then she kisses the tender area gently. So harsh and cautious. So Minho.

Jeongin tugs on her hair and Minho softly moans against her skin. Her breath is so hot goosebumps appear all over her body.

She’ll be littered in love bites if Minho continues like this. She’ll go to her first lecture next week and people will think Oh, she’s been fucked so good. Look at her, what a whore . Or maybe, Does she have a boyfriend? Girlfriend, maybe?

It was my sister! she wants to scream at the imaginary people. She’s too good to me. Too good to be my sister.

‘Innie, sweetheart, let’s take this off.’ She tugs on her shirt. Jeongin props herself up on her elbows and lets her sister help her maneuver out of the annoying piece of fabric. Who needs clothes anyway. Not she, not Minho, not right now.

She tugs on the hem of Minho’s sweater in return. ‘You too.’

Minho huffs a laugh. ‘Didn’t know you were so impatient. Waiting all this time.’

Jeongin watches Minho strip and gulps. She’s only wearing a tee beneath, no bra. She’s got small boobs anyway, she doesn’t really need one. Free the nipples and all that. She takes the tee of as well and her hair falls over her shoulders, so long it reaches her tits, and it’s a bit staticky and it frames her face in the most beautiful way like always, and her body is perfect. 

‘You’re drooling.’

Jeongin slaps her thigh. ‘Fuck you.’ How can I not?

Minho hums, content, and lets her hands wander over Jeongin’s stomach, to her waist, squeezing tightly, up to cup her tits over the bra she’s wearing. The fabric is flimsy at best, Jeongin can feel the sensation of her hard nipples against Minho’s palms. She’s probably soaking through her knickers. 

Minho leans down to kiss her again, still massaging her breasts, and it’s so much softer than she’d expected. Slowly, Minho drags her tongue over Jeongin’s lips and she lets it happen, opens her mouth a bit, and Minho tastes her teeth and tongue and saliva. Slow, deliberate. Everything is with purpose.

‘Unnie,’ Jeongin manages when Minho breaks contact. She sounds breathless, even to her own ears.

‘Mhm?’

Jeongin fiddles with the waistband of Minho’s jeans. Minho raises her eyebrows but doesn’t start to move.

‘I’m not gonna beg,’ Jeongin scoffs. 

The corner of Minho’s mouth tilts up. ‘Oh, we’ll see about that, honey.’

Just when Jeongin is about to sulk, Minho stands up to take off her jeans, and then she moves to pull her sister’s joggers off as well, and climbs back into bed. But this time she moves between Jeongin’s legs and presses her face against her cunt over her underwear.

Jeongin yelps. ‘What the-’

Electricity zips up her spine and short-circuits her brain. This is already so much better than anything she could’ve imagined. Anything that anyone could give her. Minho brushes her nose over the fabric and her clit throbs, she must feel Jeongin’s heartbeat through her nose, a heat wave strikes her entire body. Fully charged, a battery on the verge of exploding from the excess of energy. 

Minho keeps moving, starts using her tongue, and Jeongin is afraid she’ll cum without having been properly touched. How embarrassing that would be. Worse, how much more that would turn her on. 

‘Unnie.’ She moves her fingers over Minho’s scalp and tugs on her hair in an attempt to get her to lift her head. But Minho just keeps moving, and when Jeongin looks down, she’s staring right up at her. A sight straight out of a renaissance painting. Those huge ones with hundreds of people but the focus is entirely on Minho in the centre. Heavenly and full of sin. 

‘Unnie.’ She tugs again and this time Minho does lift her head, a little bit, devouring Jeongin with her gaze like a hungry carnivore. 

‘I want to make you feel good first,’ Jeongin says.

‘Oh, but you already do.’

Jeongin sighs. ‘Just come here and sit on my face.’

Minho’s ears turn from soft pink to crimson. Jeongin relishes in the sight until the older scrambles to put her thighs on each side of her head. Minho’s still wearing her knickers — Jeongin can see a dark patch on the red fabric — and part of her pubic hair is visible through the delicate lace on the front. She grabs Minho’s bare ass cheeks and positions her cunt right in front of her mouth. She’s seriously drooling at this point.

She experimentally licks over the fabric and looks up at Minho. Her soft belly, small tits, and her face, looking straight down. Jeongin keeps eye contact when she licks again, this time with more pressure, and Minho furrows her brows in what Jeongin hopes is pleasure.

Then she moves one of her hands over Minho’s lower abdomen, grazes the lace and takes the fabric to the side to expose her pussy. She licks into her folds with certainty, a confidence conjured from thin air, over and over again. Sucking on her clit, she finally teases out sounds from the women on top of her.

Minho grabs her hair, the other holding onto the bedframe, and starts rocking her hips. The grip makes Jeongin still her head. She lies there, mouth wide open and tongue out, while Minho rides her face as she pleases. She might as well suffocate her with her pussy, Jeongin would die happily. Death by pussy. What an epipath.

She doesn’t die of course, her moans start matching Minho’s as she feels her own pleasure rise with each controlled motion of Minho’s hips. She’s chasing her high but she’s still so controlled, ever the composed older sister. When she reaches her orgasm and wets Jeongin’s tongue, shivers run through her whole body but she manages to keep herself upright. 

Jeongin looks up at her like a devotee to their deity. A beautiful goddess, sinfully flawless.

Without saying a word, Minho moves down and kisses Jeongin’s wet mouth covered in her own fluids. She licks at her lips and into her mouth, lapping up everything her tongue can catch onto. It’s bit disgusting maybe, but Jeongin feels so wanted, so used, so, so desired. It’s a bliss.

‘Darling,’ Minho says, voice firm and sultry. ‘You’re so beautiful like that. My perfect girl.’

Jeongin’s body shivers at the praise, sending goosebumps over her body. She’s horny beyond what she believed was possible.

‘If you don’t eat me out right fucking now I will explode,’ she breathes out. She doesn’t sound as certain as she would like to, but who can blame her when her face was just fucked by the most beautiful woman alive.

Minho clicks her tongue in a disapproving tone. ‘Come like that again and you won’t cum at all tonight.’

Heat rises to Jeongin’s face and she really shouldn’t be surprised that she likes it like that. But then again, she would probably like everything Minho does. She strokes her cheek, gently, like Jeongin is something worth being careful with. 

‘And what do you say to that, pretty thing?’

Jeongin’s brain jumps to life just enough to come up with an answer. ‘Uh. Sorry?’

Minho huffs a laugh. ‘Yeah. Convince me.’

‘I’m-’ Jeongin gulps down her dignity. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hm,’ Minho hums. ‘I’ll let it slide this time.’

Jeongin doesn’t have time to think about that sentence before Minho has positioned herself between Jeongin’s thighs and mercilessly sucks on her clit.

‘Fu- Oh, shit- Fuck. Fuck.’ She is so close to her orgasm it should be embarrassing, but all she can care about is the sensation, the pleasure holding her entire body hostage, demanding more, more, more. It’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s perfect. When Minho slides two fingers into her at once, she wails. It doesn’t matter how pathetic she sounds, she doesn’t care. Minho needs to know how good she makes her feel.

She is close, so fucking close, when Minho suddenly pulls away, and Jeongin cries . 

‘What are you- why, why- Unnie, c’mon.’

Minho has a smug grin on her lips as she slowly moves her fingers inside Jeongin’s hole. It drives her insane. Minho looks at her like she expects something and Jeongin knows what she wants. Because of course she does.

‘I won’t,’ she says, breathless. Her body is on fire.

Minho hums and flicks her finger against Jeongin’s clit. It hurts and she could probably cum just from that, but Minho does it only once. 

‘Wrong.’

Jeongin pants as she contemplates her choices. Minho will actually stop and deny her an orgasm, she knows her sister can be cruel like that. Well, not in that sense yet, but it’s easy to imagine when you know her. She’s not a woman of empty threats. And Jeongin is very much desperate, very much turned on, and has already thrown the remains of her dignity out of the window onto the street to be trampled on. What does it even matter.

‘ Please. ’

Minho’s grin grows wider. ‘Correct.’

Jeongin can’t comprehend how fast Minho is back on her clit, relentlessly moving both her fingers in and out with an obscene sound. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Jeongin to reach her orgasm, contracting around Minho’s fingers and twitching on the mattress. Minho lets her ride it out and slows her movements down while keeping eye contact. When Jeongin gently tugs on her hair, she removes herself and crawls up into the empty space next to her sister.

‘What the fuck.’ Jeongin breathes heavily.

Minho kisses the top of her head and Jeongin wants to stop the time.

She doesn’t know what’s to come and now that her high slowly leaves her body, the fears start creeping back from the recesses of her brain. She hates them but she hates it more that they are justified. Minho is her sister and she has a boyfriend. It’s terrible. All of it. Jeongin is a weak woman led by pure lust, the epitome of a sinner. 

Minho kisses her forehead and strokes over her cheek, just like she did earlier. 

‘Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?’

Her voice is gentle, too soft despite everything. She seems perfectly fine and at ease with herself as she gets up to get a wet cloth and a glass of water. There’s a calm smile on her lips that never seems to really leave her face. She looks content.

‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’ Jeongin hates how easily her worries read through her voice.

Minho brushes her fingers through Jeongin’s hair in a soothing way. ‘Of course not, sweetheart. This is only for us. It’s all right, don’t worry about it.’

Jeongin takes a sip of the water.

‘This doesn’t change anything,’ Minho says. 

And Jeongin chooses to believe her. Minho is older, she is smart, she knows what she’s doing. As long as Jeongin keeps to her, nothing can go wrong. It’ll be okay, perfectly fine, splendid even. They will go home for the next semester break and everything will be as always. Their mother will cook meals and Minho will help her while Jeongin sits on the couch playing games on her phone and she will not steal glances at her sister. They will talk about university life and their mother will ask if Jeongin has found a girl she likes, maybe there are some of her interest in the city, maybe she finally finds someone nice. And Jeongin will smile and say It just didn’t happen yet . 

Everything will be like always.

Except that Jeongin now knows what Minho looks like when pleasure zips through her body.