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You might wanna read this first:

https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1481625/conjugal

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It took a full ten minutes of banging [on the door] before Seungwan and Joohyun came [out of the restroom].

 

The couple mouthed their apologies to her and to the Reve patrons who had to hold their pee just because they couldn't keep it in their pants after a full two months of Do-It-Yourself.

 

After several bottles of beer, the horn dogs decided that it'd be best to make up for all the lost y time at the comfort of their queen-size bed.

 

It's now 9:00 on a surprisingly slow Friday night. After the earlier predicament courtesy of her two best friends and her innate ability to make uncomfortable situations more unbearable than it has to be, Seulgi's been chill, doing her actual job; at the bar, serving drinks, wiping the counter clean, making small talk with and raking in tips from her college juniors who sometimes drop by during her shift just to pinch her cheeks and enjoy an order or two of fruity on the Beach. She also hasn't spilled any liquor since 6:00 P.M., and by her standards, that already calls for a celebration.

 

Everything's been smooth-sailing until she has to explain to one tipsy, persistent, 40-something cis-man that being a lesbian means she wouldn't sleep with him, as 'I Don't Do Boys' by Elektra from her Sapphic AF playlist fills the background (live music isn't until tomorrow night).

 

"But why?" He asks for the third time, in a span of five minutes.

 

"I am a fan of s, sir," Seulgi slaps the man with the cold hard truth (with respect), as she refills his bucket with ice for the third time that night. The V-word shouldn't really come up during conversations with customers, but she has no choice but to bust it out when she's not wearing flannel or when the N-word (No) isn't working. "I like women with s, sir. You're a man with a , sir," she breaks it down.

 

"But you work on '... tails' all night," the man smirks. Like there's something clever with what he said.

 

Men. Ugh.

 

"And I'm afraid it's the only I'll ever work on, sir."

 

"Maybe I can change that," the man presses, leaning in close. Now, Seulgi, bear Seulgi, never unfurls her claws, but she can understand how and why Joohyun ended up giving one customer a broken nose.

 

"Excuse me," a tall, young woman, caramel hair tied to a low bun, with fire for eyes, in a sharp chocolate brown suit, approaching the bar, cuts in, yanks the man away, and does something straight out of someone's gay 50 Shades of Gray daydream: 

 

She grabs Seulgi's chin and kisses her with fervor. She slips her tongue in, and it makes Seulgi's mouth a much better place. Seulgi's hormones are racing at the speed of terminal velocity, sweet mother of jeez. Oh, the sweet agony of Seulgi's subconscious, looking on with disapproval. As tasty as this is, this is still non-consensual.

 

The woman retreats from her sudden, oh so sudden attack, sinfully swirls her tongue along her lips, then shoots Seulgi a playful wink.

 

Seulgi feels the color in her cheeks rising; they must be the color of grenadine syrup.

 

"Sorry, babe. I got held up."

 

Okay, maybe it's too much plot for gay FSOG, but Seulgi's sure she's seen this before; a hot -blocker swooping in the eleventh hour. All she has to do is play along. She can do that.

 

"Who are you?"

 

Oh, well. She tried. 

 

The woman rolls her eyes in disbelief, because yes, how can someone be this stupid? But in Seulgi's defense, she doesn't really know the woman, and she's too beautiful, that there's no way they could convince even an inebriated man that they've got something going on.

 

"You don't even know each other."

 

Case in point.

 

The man barks, rubbing his thigh that hit one of the empty chairs at a nearby table across the counter. He then turns to the woman, “You just want me to leave her alone. I've seen this before."

 

"Yeah? So, do you recall the part where I let you stay after I came into the picture?" The woman taunts. "No? Yeah, I don't think so.”

 

The man resorts to giving the woman a stink eye as he grabs his refilled ice bucket from the counter. At his state, there's no way he could fight off a feisty, take-no- kind of woman that towers over him and win. 

 

"You could have just said 'no', lady," he says to Seulgi before making the trip back to his table at the corner, mumbling '' with every wobbly step he takes.

 

"I did say that, sir. The 'no' I mean, not the '', sir."

 

"Men and their audacity," the woman huffs, tucking loose strands behind her ear as she settles on one of the bar stools, crossing her legs. "Are you okay?"

 

Her gaze is soft, all fierceness from the exchange with the man earlier gone. Her voice, laced with genuine concern. And from a very tiny underused part of Seulgi's brain-- probably located at the base of... something that's really hard to spell-- comes the thought: it was hot and you liked how it made you feel.

 

But there's a line between right and wrong, and Seulgi's not as dumb as Anastasia Steele.

 

"You," Seulgi points a finger at the woman and looks at her, eyes darting from one part of her to the other. "You look like you could buy me, my friends, and this bar; and your voice sounds like honey; and your hair looks so silky; and your face looks like God sculpted it after he had a full eight hours of sleep; and your eyes look like pools of hot fudge and bourbon; and your lips are soft and plump and they taste like oranges," whew, that's a mouthful, "but that doesn't mean you can go around French kissing lesbians... or whatever your preference is. Consent is a right."

 

"Are you done?" The woman asks, elbow propped on the mahogany countertop, cheek on palm, smiling, just smiling. And Seulgi can't keep her serious face up with a sight so unnerving.

 

"No," shakes her head, still catching her breath. "Just give me a sec."

 

The woman is still smiling. Even her teeth are perfect. God, rich people and their premium dental plan.

 

"I'd also like to... thank you for saving me from… Mr. ."

 

"You're welcome," the woman accepts. "And I'm sorry. I just came in, looking around, when I heard someone talking about their lesbian credentials and another about his 'cocktail' like it's conversion therapy," the woman recounts. "And then he was all up in your face, and I thought he wouldn't buy it if I just said 'hi', so..."

 

"He didn't buy it even with all that... action."

 

"He could have... until you spoke." 

 

"I'm sorry. It's just that you literally fished all the workable words out of my mouth."

 

"I only threw the tongue in there after you kissed back."

 

She didn't do it, did she? Seulgi never picks up girls while at work. She only does that at her college and at parties Moonbyul drags her to. Seulgi likes to keep a professional distance with Reve customers. They can flirt but she doesn't flirt back. It's highly improbable that she kissed this woman back. Even if she liked it.

 

Like, a lot.

 

"I don't remember doing… that." 

 

"Oh, but you did," the woman teased. "You even left something to remind me of it," the woman drags a thumb along her lower lip and blood seeps out of the very fresh nip.

 

Seulgi's eyes go from crescents to full moons; so that explains that sinful . The woman was doing it on purpose other than the purpose that Seulgi thought.

 

Thinks.

 

Because she's doing it again, while staring into Seulgi's eyes like they hold tiny cheat sheets with illegible handwriting for an exam that makes up eighty percent of her grade, that she failed to study for.

 

But y.

 

"I'm surprised you didn't taste it."

 

Before Seulgi knows it, the woman is dragging  the same thumb along Seulgi's upper lip.

 

This is so . And so unsanitary. 

 

"Oh, okay," she breathes out, as the woman raises her crimson thumb to meet her eyes.

 

"Yes," the woman nods. "But it doesn't matter even if you enjoyed it."

 

Yes. Yes, she did. But yes.

 

"I still apologize. And I promise not to go around French kissing... women anymore," she smiles.

 

"Unless they ask for it," Seulgi points out.

 

"Unless you ask for it," the woman deadpans.

 

"Unless I ask for--" Seulgi pauses, realizing the trick. The woman's lips curve into a smirk.

 

"Oh, you will. By the end of the night."

 

God, she is slick.

 

See, Seulgi doesn't believe in horoscopes. But she should probably start now. She wonders what it said about Aquarius today. It probably said stay at home or forever wreck your peace.

 

And Seulgi just wants to work in peace. Live life as she knows it. She has a plan: pay the bills and die. Maybe adopt more cats along the way. Be that cool aunt to all the children that her straight couple friends will procreate. Hook up with no strings attached and be besties with all the women she got in bed with and not end up having make-up in a bar's restroom.

 

But something's up with her stars. And yes, Seulgi might be getting ahead of herself too fast and too soon, putting TV lesbians before the second episode to shame, but tonight is anything but mundane. And so is this woman. Or because of this woman; she feels like a turning point. Or a fork on the road. Or a stumbling block. Or a pain in the .

 

She just has to know.

 

"Who are you and why are you acting like a pivotal, dominant one-night stand that's gonna change the course of at least my life and the way I see the world forever?"

 

The woman smiles. Chuckles. Then bursts into a fit of laughter.

 

"I'm Sooyoung," she begins as soon as she recovers. "How about we start with drinks, then see how it goes?"