“What’s the difference between me and the sky?”

The question catches Yong off-guard and she has to do a double take to make sure she even heard it right. She’s with Byul and they’re both outside, by the Han River, enjoying a rare day off a week before they fly to Germany. There are lots of families and couples picnicking and frolicking by the Han today and although she feels the prickling stares of one or two people chancing double-takes their way, they mostly go unnoticed and unrecognized. Not for the first time, she’s thankful that their face masks and caps offer them some level of anonymity. 

She furrows her eyebrows at Byul. The other girl is lying down on their shared picnic mat, head pillowed on a folded hoodie, eyes focused on Yong. 

“Pardon?” Yong asks.

Even with a face mask on, she still hears Byul’s chuckles, that low and slow sound that Yong secretly loves. The tilt in Byul’s chin is every bit a challenge. “You heard me.”

Yong pouts despite the fact that she knows Byul can’t see it. “I don’t know! The sky is…the sky!”

Byul just laughs, loud and from her gut, and even though it’s at her expense, Yong just smiles and relishes in the sound. Later, when Byul drops her off at her apartment, Yong turns to her, “so what’s the answer?”

Byul raises both eyebrows, “Hmm?”

“The thing about you and the sky? What did you mean?”

Moon Byulyi smiles, and it’s a little teasing, but there’s a softness there that Yong can’t quite place either. Byul leans over the center console until their faces are only a few centimeters apart. Yong feels her breathing stutter, eyes darting from the intense look in Byul’s eyes to her lips in quick succession, she feels her heart patter an excited rhythm against her chest, so loud in the silence that she’s sure Byul can hear. She closes her eyes and–

Byul presses a soft kiss on her cheek. Yong’s eyes snap open and she can’t help the glare that crosses her face.  “Don’t worry about it.” Byul says, against the skin of her cheek, utterly and completely shameless. 

“Goodnight Yong,” Byul says, unapologetically smirking as she unlocks the passenger-side door for her. 

“You’re a tease and a menace, Moon Byulyi.” Yong mutters as she exits the car, and the sound of Byul’s chuckles right before she shuts the door follow her all the way to her apartment. 

—

Germany is…different. 

Which isn’t to say that all the other countries she’s visited before for work or vacations aren’t unique in their own way, but still. There’s a newness thrumming under her skin that she just can’t quite place. It could just be because she hasn’t been on a plane or stepped foot on foreign soil in almost two years. Still, as the van takes them from the airport, her eyes take in the old-style architecture, the cobbled streets, the streets of maskless-people enjoying the sunshine. It feels as if she’s in another world entirely.

The feeling remains when they arrive at the stadium for their soundcheck. The place is huge, and just the sight of the space where, a few hours from now, tens of thousands of fans will be watching them perform sends a thrill down Yong’s spine that she hasn’t felt in over two years. She looks over at the rest of her members and can see that they feel it too. The need to be on a stage, to perform, to connect with hundreds and thousands of people in the span of a few songs.

Unconsciously, she reaches for Byul’s hand. Byul laces their fingers together in silence, an unspoken gesture of comfort and empathy. I know, her grip says, I feel it too. 

She’s so caught up in the anticipation of their performance for that evening that the trip to the hotel passes by in a blur. It’s only when she registers that their team manager is checking everyone into their rooms that Yong feels the wave of adrenaline give way to exhaustion. She suddenly feels itchy and grimy all over, painfully aware that she’s been wearing the same clothes for more than twelve hours. 

“There’s dinner downstairs or we can have it brought here,” she hears their manager telling Byul at the door. Byul says something else in reply, but Yong starts preoccupying herself with wheeling her bag to the bedroom hoping to get a quick shower in before–

She stops at the entryway that separates the suite’s living room from the bedroom, staring a bit dumbly at the sight before her. She wonders if it’s the jetlag playing some kind cruel trick on her mind, but it isn’t.

There’s only one bed. 

It’s not anything new, really. She and Byul have shared a bed before, during sleepovers at her apartment or between takes while filming for an MV or while on vacation. They’ve even shared a bed before while on schedules abroad like this.  However this is the first time they’ll be sharing a bed since– 

“Huh,”

Her train of thought is cut short by Byul appearing beside her, Yong briefly spares a glance for their hotel door only to see that it’s already closed, their manager long gone. Well, they’re really well and truly alone now.  When she looks at Byul, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes and a smirk that’s downright shameful turning up the corner of her lips. Yong rolls her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you?” Byul fires back without missing a beat, already wheeling her own luggage into the bedroom, “Cause I was just thinking that this is a pretty nice looking bed and it’s technically around five in the morning in Seoul right now.”

“Well don't even think about lying down without taking a bath,” Yong says, getting over the tempest of thoughts in her mind and wheeling her own luggage. “We should eat something first and then–”

“Take a bath and get ready for bed?” Byul finishes for her.

“Exactly!”

“Together?”

Okay, she walked into that one. She laughs instead and retaliates. Yong walks over to stand a little closer to Byul, until their knees are brushing. She sees the moment when she breaks through Byul’s facade because the other girl’s eyes widen infinitesimally, something Yong takes advantage of by hooking her arms over Byul’s shoulders, inching a bit closer. They’re practically nose to nose when Yong whispers in the space between their lips, “Byul-ah, you stink.”

She pushes the other girl toward the bathroom and Byul stumbles before catching herself, throwing an incredulous look Yong’s way, one that also gives way into a smile, still playful but soft too.

“Cheater,” Byul says.

Yong smirks, “Payback.”

—

Yong wakes up and it’s freezing. She cranes her neck and sees that it’s quite early in the morning. Too early for Germany but late in South Korea, which probably explains why she’s awake. Their room is still dark but she can see a sliver of sunlight just barely peeking through the curtains. She turns over to her other side and just barely makes out Byul’s silhouette on the other side of the bed.

Her eyes track the gentle curve of Byul’s shoulder, how it flows into the dip of her waist and then melds together with the rest of their shared blanket. This close she can smell the hotel shampoo on Byul’s hair. 

“S’too early.” Byul mumbles into her own pillow. There’s a beat of silence and then Byul turns over too so that they’re facing each other. Yong smiles.

“It’s not early back home.” Yong says, keeping her voice low. 

Byul shakes her head, just a quick little shift against her pillow, before scooting a bit closer reaching out her hand to grasp at Yong’s.

“We are home,” Byul says on a sigh, and Yong’s not sure if it’s just confusion from sleep and jet lag or another greasy declaration. Probably both. Still she smiles and closes her eyes, falling asleep once more.

At a more reasonable hour in the morning, they get permission from their manager to explore the city. According to Google there’s a shopping mall within walking distance of their hotel and Yong promised her sister she would buy her some perfume. Frankfurt is lovely in the morning, and even though she keeps her mask on, Yong lets herself imagine she’s at a time before the pandemic. Just her and Byul, vacationing together. 

Byul’s hand on her shoulder brings her back to the present. “We should go on a trip together soon.” Byul says, and even though the other girl can’t see, Yong scoffs and smiles. It’s an old running joke between them, because Byul hates being away from work long enough to actually vacation and Yong hates it when Byul leaves all the trip planning to her. 

“Yeah, preferably somewhere we can walk in peace without getting photographed at every street corner.”

Byul just laughs. A fan has been trailing them with a camera for the last couple of streets. It’s mostly flattering, if not a bit disconcerting. Yong glares, but it’s half-hearted at best. “If I wanted to be photographed paparazzi-style, I could send a tip to Dispatch back home and have them stalk me there on my own time,”  she says.

“And give up one of K-Pop’s best kept secrets?” Byul fires back, fully teasing now, “not a chance.”

“It’s been years. I hardly think it’s a secret, these days.” Yong says, halfheartedly. She’s focusing on the GPS map on her phone, trying to keep up with the little arrow as it dutifully points them in the direction of the shopping mall.

“Oh? Want to up the ante then? I read during the flight that foreigners can get married in Germany legally.”

Yong stops, looks at Byul to see if she’s joking and shakes her head, looking back down at her phone. “Oh honey, is this a proposal?” Sarcasm drips from every syllable.

Byul doesn’t miss a beat. “Baby, I don’t even have a diamond yet.” Her eyes crinkle in that devilish way that they do when she’s teasing but it doesn’t escape Yong’s notice how the hand on her shoulder trails down her arm, and stops at her hand, still close enough for Byul to hook their pinkies together. 

Yong keeps her gaze on her phone, the shopping mall isn’t too far away now, and at least it distracts her from the fact that there’s a pleased little smile dancing about her lips. 

They make it to the shopping mall without incident, and despite her saying she was only going to buy perfume for her sister, Yong lets Byul sales talk her into buying a new jacket and some sneakers so they can wear them to match back in South Korea. They find their way to a small bookshop, because Byul wants to buy a set of blank notebooks and new pens. While waiting, Yong walks aimlessly through the aisles, eyes glazing over spine after spine of titles in a language she doesn’t understand.

She finds her way to an English section, and decides to get some practice in, picking up a random book, opening it to a random page and trying to read and understand the words. It takes her a while to realize she’s picked up a book of poetry and she’s about to put it back and choose something a bit more straightforward when a few lines on a page catch her attention. Yong reads it once, slowly, getting used to the letters and how the words come together. Then she reads it again, translating it in her mind to see if she understood it correctly. Finally she pulls out her phone, opens her Papago app and has it translate the page for her. 

Yong smiles, something warm and familiar spreading through her as she reads the few lines of poetry again and again. Hoping to commit it to memory.

“You done?”

She looks up and Byul is standing a few feet away, a plastic bag of new stationery hanging from her wrist. 

“What are you reading?” Byul asks, leaning forward to peer at the book in Yong’s hands. She snaps it shut and shoves it back into the shelf, shaking her head as she hooks her arm through Byul’s and leads them out of the store. “Nothing. Just practicing my english.”

Even though they’re still out in public, their persistent little fan photographer seems to have gone for the day, so Yong doesn’t feel too conscious about holding Byul’s hand during the entire walk back to their hotel. 

—

They can hear the crowd roaring from the artists’ holding room as they wait for their turn to perform. Yong adjusts her hair in the mirror for the twentieth time. She’s going up first to do a quick duet with Daehwi before coming back down to perform with her members and although it’s a well-known song that she can probably sing in her sleep, she still takes the effort to mumble the lyrics to herself, trying to get the pronunciation just right.

“I like your earrings.”

Byul is standing beside her, makeup done but still in her polo and shorts from earlier that morning. Yong doesn’t bother hiding her blush. She had brought these earrings all the way from Seoul with the intent to wear them for this performance. 

“You would.” She says, trying to be blasé about it but still going through the effort of adjusting the earrings meticulously until they’re dangling at just the right angle. Readily seen even with her hair extensions in light waves over her shoulders.

“I think you’re missing something, though.” Byul comments, meeting her gaze through the glass. 

She barely has time to be confused before Byul faces her properly and holds out a simple gold necklace, a tiny little crescent moon pendant swaying gently between them.

Yong looks from Byul to the necklace and feels her whole face heat up. She hopes her makeup hides most of it, but she doesn’t bother holding back her smile.

“Are we trying to make a statement?”

Byul shrugs, unrepentant and motions for her to turn around. “I’m just completing the look,” She says innocently. 

Yong turns, gathering her hair into her hands and pulling it to the side so that her neck is bare. Byul’s hands are light, fingers swift and deft as they put the necklace on. What Yong wasn’t expecting, however, was the quick kiss pressed to the nape of her neck, right where the necklace’s clasp sits on her skin.

There’s a shiver that runs down her spine, but outwardly, she yelps and shoves Byul away. The other girl’s laughs ring through Yong’s ears louder than the crowd’s cheers when she first steps foot on stage.

When it’s their turn to take the stage as a group, their performance is a rousing success, and Yong has to fight to hold back tears because she’s missed this. The feeling of actually performing live with an actual audience and feeling their screams thrum through her veins. She catches Byul’s eye throughout their set and she sees that same joy reflected there.

The adrenaline sings through her blood long after they leave the final encore, and when she meets Byul’s eyes in the van on the way back to the hotel, there’s a burning there that kindles a different kind of heat in Yong’s gut. It simmers all the way to the hotel and as they ride the elevator to their floor.

After they bid Wheein and Hyejin goodnight and once the door to their room closes behind them, Byul crowds Yong against the door and starts kissing her senseless. Her hands fly up to Byul’s hair off their own accord, fingers scratching at the scalp as her mind goes blissfully blank. All her senses narrowing down to the warm and soft feel of Byul’s lips against hers, the little gasps and whimpers shared between them, the perfume that Byul insists on spraying all over her body before and after every performance. 

They pull apart briefly for air. “I missed you,” Byul says, nonsensically, because they’ve literally been together for forty-eight hours and counting now. But Yong nods, presses her forehead to Byul’s and breathes.

“I missed you too,” Yong says, and it speaks to how much their lives have changed since they started this, of being happy where they are but also missing how simple things used to be. Of looking back to the days when they busking in the streets and sleeping in a cockroach infested apartment as some of their happiest because it was how they were able to grow together. Of barely getting the time to see each other once a week because of solo schedules and radio shows and musical rehearsals and everything else in between. Of reaching for the things they individually want all with the knowledge and the hope and the trust that at the end of the day, they'll still have each other and all the work, time, effort, and tears will have been worth it.

They stay like that for a long while, just kissing and kissing and kissing against the door of their hotel room. Finally, Yong feels a strain in her calves and she pulls away, her head on the wood as she breathes. Byul dips her own head lower, nosing the skin along and pressing a final kiss on the moon pendant against her collar.

“Bed?” Byul whispers. Yong smiles and shakes her head. “Bath,” she counters.

Byul’s chuckles against her skin send a whole new round of shivers down her spine. “You’re really not gonna give that up, huh?”

Yong shakes her head as she leads both of them to the suite’s only bathroom. “There’s only one bed after all,” she says. 

They take turns in the bathroom, and once they’re clean and settled under the covers, Byul pulls her close to press a kiss against her forehead, then against the mole on her eyelid that mirrors her own, then on her cheeks, then her nose, then her chin. Yong squirms, growing impatient and she knows Byul can sense it because there’s a smile on her lips as she continues to kiss everywhere except where Yong wants her too.

“Tease,” Yong says. Even in the darkness, she can pick out the slight  shifts in Byul’s expressions. How it goes from playful to tender all at once. She thinks about how long it took for her to be able to track how Byul thinks and feels based on her expression alone. She thinks its nothing short of a miracle that after ten years and counting, they still get to have this.

Finally, Byul’s lips meet her own, and Yong spends the rest of the evening not thinking about anything at all.

—

When she wakes up the next day, it’s to a sudden bright stream of sunlight that ades their room. Once she finally blinks the sleep away, Yong can just make out Byul’s silhouette against the glass doors to their room’s balcony, hair still messy from sleep and pajamas hanging loose and rumpled about her shoulders.

All at once and very suddenly Yong is poleaxed with affection for the woman in front of her, limned in early morning light, a sight that only she ever gets to see. Mine , she thinks, the knowledge of it curling pleasantly around her heart. She could easily picture herself spending a thousand mornings this way.

She reaches for her own phone and snaps a few pictures of Byul’s back, trying to preserve this moment anyway she can.

Byul turns back to look at her with a smile, “Good Morning, Yong!”

The sight of Byul silhouetted against the balcony, glimpses of the sky peeking through Frankfurt’s skyscrapers, tugs at something in her memory. Yong smiles, sitting up, she says, “What’s the difference between you and the sky?”

Byul’s eyes widen briefly but her smile only grows. She shuts the balcony door behind her and clambers back into bed, pressing a fresh round of kisses against Yong’s face, morning breath be damned.  They keep making out on the bed until their manager has to bang at their door to get them to come down for breakfast.

They pull apart laughing and Yong takes the opportunity to brush a few stray hairs behind Byul’s ears. “Good sleep?”

Byul leans in to the touch, pressing a kiss to her palm before rolling off the bed again to get changed. 

“It was perfect.”

.

.

.

One week earlier; Han River

When they finally find a picnic spot that works for them, Byul lays down their picnic mat while Yong gets to work on unpacking some of the food they brought with them. Tteokbokki from around the corner, a few slices of pizza that they heated in her house, a thermos of sweetened barley tea.

It takes a while for them to situate themselves in a way that’s comfortable but once they do, Yong doesn’t have to look to know that Byul is smiling behind her face mask, but it’s been almost a month since they’ve had time together like this and she has to ask.

“Are you happy, Byul?”

The look Byul gives her almost takes her breath away with its intensity. Slowly, Byul removes her mask and reaches for Yong’s hand. Yong watches as Byul presses a soft kiss to the simple gold ring on her middle finger. Byul has a matching one on her own hand. Just two nondescript bands, easily hidden amongst the multiple other rings they wear, but it’s always there just the same.

“I’m happy, Yong.”

-

end

-

“My lover asks me:
“What is the difference between me and the sky?”
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky”

― Nizar Qabbani