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There’s an itch under Seungcheol’s skin.
It has set since this morning when Seungcheol got out of bed, and now that she stands in front of a full length mirror, that itch makes her want to slip out of her skin, shake it out properly and put it back on—as if after having done all of that she would feel any better.
On days like these, she’d rather not come up to a mirror but they have agreed to meet up with a couple of Jeonghan’s friends and that had been planned roughly a week ahead so Seungcheol needs to get her shit together, and power through it.
Her shit is terribly apart so far.
She looks in the mirror, face scrunched up in distaste as she smoothes her hands over the cellulite on her thighs. She twists around to see it on the back of her thighs as well. If she plans to wear a dress she'd need to get her thigh bands out.
Does she want a dress though? She moves onto her belly, pressing her fingers into the pudgy malleable flesh. Pale stretch marks crawl up the skin there like some odd ghostly tiger stripes.
She isn't wearing any bra so far and her eyes trace the shape of her saggy tits in a tee she wears at home. Thankfully, the sleeves of it are long enough to cover her underarm flabs.
Seungcheol sighs. Rubs her chin, massages her cheeks. Does her face always appear so swollen?
When she shifts her gaze in the mirror, she notices Hannie, watching her from above the thin rim of her round reading glasses, quiet and intense, a book she's been reading lying forgotten in her lap.
She's been watching from the very beginning, in fact. Since that moment when Seungcheol got stuck in front of the mirror, like a fly in a cobweb, picking at herself again.
To Jeonghan Seungcheol is fine porcelain—delicate and beautiful, needing a little bit of care now and then. While Seungcheol sees herself flawed, the porcelain chipped and cracked, a part of a grandma’s tea set thrown to the dumpster by uncaring grandchildren who inherited it without seeing the value. The wear and tear is all in Seungcheol’s head, Jeonghan thinks, and there’s little she can do about it.
But little is more than nothing. She remembers their trip to Japan and the pottery they’ve seen there, restored with lacquer and dusted with gold, all the cracks and chips turned into beautiful shimmering patterns running through the pottery surface.
Jeonghan lets her book rest on the bed covers beside her and spreads her legs apart making room before patting the empty space.
‘Come here, love.’
Seungcheol’s shoulders sag a little when she steps away from the mirror and shuffles to the bed to crawl up on it and rest against Jeonghan. She’s squirmy still with the unease seeping away from her body slowly and she can’t stay in one place just yet so Jeonghan waits, letting her move and fidget for a brief while.
‘What are you reading anyway?’ Seungcheol pipes up, voice deceitfully light.
She picks up the ornate book and flips it to read the cover.
‘Hans Christian Andersen. Isn’t it a children’s book?’
‘Fairy tales. Can’t adults read them too?’ Jeonghan retorts. Slyly, she puts her arms around Seungcheols waist and her chin on Seungcheol’s shoulder, taming her stealthily without Seungcheol noticing.
There is gilt lettering on the front cover, it is a pretty edition. When Seungcheol turns it over in her hands, the flourishes catch in the lamp light.
‘Some of them are actually pretty grim,’ Jeonghan notes. ‘Did you know the original little mermaid didn’t get her happy ending?’
Seungcheol hums, non-committal, and starts flipping through the pages, skimming her fingers across the smooth velvety paper, pausing on colorful illustrations. As she does, Jeonghan feels her gradually relax, more so when Jeonghan puts a couple of soft kisses to the side of her neck.
Seungcheol is warm and soft in her arms, and Jeonghan purrs somewhere into the crook of her neck, a tempting idea brewing in her head to just ditch the meet up and stay at home. The way she knows Seungcheol would latch on it doesn’t help at all.
Eventually, Seungcheol leaves the book be and looks up, catching the sight of them in the mirror, meeting Jeonghan’s eyes in the reflection again. She then takes note of her body, and her eyes dart low in shame, bottom lip caught in between her teeth. Her shoulders that only just relaxed, grow tense again.
Jeonghan cuddles up as close as she physically can, laying her hand on Seungcheol’s knee, thumb drawing soothing circles into the skin, lips brushing Seungcheol’s neck as she speaks.
‘A bad day, love?’
Seungcheol’s eyes focus on Jeonghan’s hand on her, something hopefully providing the comfort she needs.
‘God, I hope not,’ she chuckles humorlessly. ‘Just need a little breather. I can deal with it.’
‘Don’t doubt it. Rest.’
And Seungcheol lets herself sink against Jeonghan, thankfully, while Jeonghan turns her own hand over, palm up, and stares at it. The light of the bedroom pools in her hand like gold and Jeonghan wishes for it to be real. Dust or liquid, anything golden that stains.
She turns her palm over again and slides it slowly to the inner part of Seungcheol’s thigh, feeling a subtle shiver run underneath her hand. Another kiss to the side of the neck, and Seungcheol’s long lashes flutter up, her throwing a quick curious glance between the mirror and Jeonghan’s hand.
Jeonghan smiles to herself, mischievous, and moves her hand a little higher, spreading her fingers out before grabbing a bit rough—Seungcheol makes a surprised noise and closes her legs together. There’s a slight tremble in her thighs as she does it, betraying her arousal, but Jeonghan can only focus on it for so long as her own narrow bony hand gets enveloped in between Seungcheol’s plush thighs, disappearing completely in that mellow heat. It nearly makes her moan out loud, her own thighs squeezing Seungcheol’s hips slightly of their own volition.
Seungcheol is everything Jeonghan is not, and in bed it gets Jeonghan reeling. She can’t get enough of her no matter how long has passed since they came to be together. There’s always a need to caress, to squeeze, to leave no inch of her untouched, to mold herself into her, defying the impossible.
Jeonghan slips her hand underneath Seungcheol’s loose tee to fondle her breast, marveling at how it's too big to fit into her hand neatly, almost spilling over. The outline of her hand is moving under the navy cotton in the mirror reflection.
She crooks her finger, her nail catching on a hardening nipple, and Seungcheol bucks forward impatiently, all the little trembles in her so easy to catch with her back pressed up Jeonghan’s front.
‘Hannie,’ Seungcheol exhales.
Jeonghan speaks in the language of kisses right now and she replies with another, nipping softly on Seungcheol’s earlobe.
If they had more time she would paint her gold all over, palms leaving wide streaks of golden dust across her thighs, her belly, leaving greedy handprints on her tits and ass, smoothing over her arms and shoulders laying a glittering shawl over them gently. She would lie down and beg to ride her face, watch Seungcheol’s ears flush darker in embarrassment at the proposition before she concedes and lets Jeonghan worship her properly with hands coming to grip her at her thighs as she goes into it overzealous.
Jeonghan likes it, getting a little breathless in the process, sometimes urging Seungcheol to clamp her thighs by the sides of her head as she eats her out. There’s a flash of confusion in her eyes each time, she doesn’t understand it but she lets Jeonghan have it her way. To be completely honest, Jeonghan is not sure she could even begin to explain the comfort of that warm vacuum the space between Seungcheol thighs creates.
Seungcheol’s legs slide apart slowly and Jeonghan continues her movement upwards.
‘Looking so good, Cheollie,’ Jeonghan finally murmurs to Seungcheol’s ear.
Seungcheol flinches but doesn’t raise her eyes to meet Jeonghan’s in the mirror. It is alright, she will come around, Jeonghan believes it.
Her hand rests for a short while against the cotton of Seungcheol’s panties, right where it is already dampening with her juices and Seungcheol squirms in her spot before stilling again when Jeonghan slips her hand underneath the elastic band of the panties. Having spread her fingers over the plush fat mound, Jeonghan cups her, almost possessively, fingertips not quite reaching where Seungcheol wants them to be, and Seungcheol whines.
‘Jeonghan.’
Her eyes open slowly and focus on the reflection, and Jeonghan is already there, catching her gaze.
‘Look at yourself,’ Jeonghan whispers. And lo and behold, Seungcheol does. Hazy with the arousal, she takes in the spread thighs, one of Jeonghan’s hands down her panties, another up her t-shirt. ‘I know the stuff you’re thinking in that pretty head of yours,’ Jeonghan tuts and her pointing and middle fingers slide down easily along Seungcheol’s folds—she’s practically drenched at this point, swelled up and sensitive all the more with Jeonghan intentionally avoiding her clit. ‘When you stand over there.’
‘Jeonghan, please.’ Seungcheol bucks up into her hand.
‘Does any of it matter right now, really?’
Jeonghan slots her fingers together, strokes up and brushes her fingertips over the clit, light and teasing, and Seungcheol lets out another of those stifled moans that resonate through Jeonghan’s own chest. She is just playing for now, letting her own fingers soak as she slides them down again, spreading them apart in between Seungcheol’s folds.
‘It gets frustrating at times, you know,’ she continues. ‘How you don’t see what I see.’
Seungcheol’s eyes are hooded when she tries to keep her gaze steadfast on Jeonghan.
‘When you do that, pick at yourself with that sullen face, it makes me want to slap your wrist sometimes.’
Jeonghan’s fingers dip lower, resting against the opening, feeling Seungcheol quiver beneath her fingertips.
‘All those parts you hate,’ Jeonghan hisses lightly and pushes two of her fingers in, Seungcheol’s cunt loose and ready, Seungcheol herself moaning and arching against her. ‘God, you don’t even understand how fucking hot you are, Choi Seungcheol.’
Jeonghan knows going full name makes Seungcheol sulk usually, but it also gets her to listen closely so Jeonghan takes that risk. Over the past few minutes Seungcheol’s body has slid down the covers and Jeonghan pulls her back up close, breathing hot against her ear.
Seungcheol is fine porcelain but she is still sturdier than she lets on.
‘Did I do wrong?’ She asks, inquisitive.
‘Yes, love.’
‘Then…’
Seungcheol needs it. As much as she needs a moment of peace in Jeonghan’s arms, a little bit of sweet coddling, she needs to know explicitly that self-deprecation is unwarranted. And sometimes Jeonghan feels like the lines in Seungcheol’s mind are a little bit blurred.
Her fingers are still up Seungcheol’s pussy when she pulls the left hand from underneath her tee and smoothes it over the skin of Seungcheol’s thigh.
‘I want you to watch,’ Jeonghan says, and gently turns Seungcheol’s head by the chin to center her line of sight with the mirror.
The slap she delivers after to Seungcheol’s thigh isn’t a well executed one, a little sloppy with the left hand not being Jeonghan’s working one but it does the job—Seungcheol jerks in her arms, clenches around her fingers and moans. The gold in Jeonghan’s palm is a trick of light, but the handprint on Seungcheol’s skin is real enough.
‘If I could have my hand on your body at all times I would. Sue me for public indecency,’ Jeonghan sighs and resumes the shallow in-and-out movements of her fingers, thumb pressed at Seungcheol’s clit while she slides down again, trying to somehow still ride Jeonghan’s fingers.
‘That one skirt you hated? The one that you thought was too tight, accentuating your belly? It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen.’
Seungcheol’s ears are glowing red.
‘And you have the audacity,’ Jeonghan sputters as her hand moves, almost straining her wrist with the intensity.
‘ Does my ass look fat in these jeans, Hannie ?’ Jeonghan mocks and Seungcheol whines, tears clinging to her eyelashes. ‘Yes, yes it does, Choi Seungcheol, and you better hope it fucking does.’
When Cheol clenches around her, Jeonghan presses her thumb to her clit harder, feeling her twitch and shudder as she comes, more of her slick gushing onto Jeonghan’s probably already pruney fingers.
Having pulled her hand out of Seungheol’s panties Jeonghan smears the fluids over her right thigh, another marking on the pale porcelain. For a moment, Seungcheol stays slumped against Jeonghan’s body, coming to.
‘Feeling any better?’ Jeonghan asks.
‘Yeah. I think so, yeah.’
‘Then go get dressed, we’re soon to be late.’
Seungcheol leaves the open V of Jeonghan’s legs and throws a glance at it.
“You?’
Jeonghan smiles slyly and pops the button on her jeans open.
‘I’ll entertain myself while you’re getting all pretty.’
‘Perv,’ Seungcheol blurts.
‘A one-woman cheerleading team,’ Jeonghan corrects.
She swears she could see Seungcheol glow in the low golden light of the bedroom lamp, a small smile on her lips as she picked up that skirt Jeonghan had thought she wouldn't see her wear again.