a/n: this took 2 weeks to write omg, but it finally fell into place. I'll probably post part 2 next week or the week after. enjoy reading fellow seekers and happy wenrene day~

To be in love and not be able to share it with the whole world was already a disaster in itself. To have declarations of love reduced to the fleeting touch of their elbows when they would bump each other during Russian Roulette, or the gazes that held a thousand I love you’s when their eyes would inevitably meet during Psycho.

But they’ve somehow gotten used to it, finding those moments far more spectacular than the ones they get to openly share under flashing cameras. Irene is secretly smug that only she gets to receive and witness Wendy’s kisses; devoutly written hieroglyphs as if she was the most precious papyrus—and she might as well be. At least that’s what Irene thought as she returns with etches of love, an effort to write the prettiest poetry against Wendy too.

Their love is something for them to define, understand and scribble on each other with secret touches in car parks and the comfort of their own shared dorm.

So, Wendy feels like she’s at a complete loss when the object of her affection left the hotel room without so much as a glance. Weren’t they happy just the night before? Or was she playing oblivious to the fall of her relationship?

~

3 months ago.

“Unnie…” Wendy walks straight to their shared room, forgetting to set her shoes on the shoe rack that Irene built herself after an impulsive buy from Ikea.

She urgently repeats again. “Unnie…”

Irene has carefully tucked herself underneath their duck-feathered duvet, glasses perched on top of her button nose, squinting while scrolling through numerous photos of Wendy’s on-the-way-to-work previews. “Wan-ah? What’s wrong?”

Irene sits up, patting the Wendy-shaped space on the right side of her bed, beckoning the younger girl to take her rightful place beside her. “Unnie,” Wendy repeats a final time, pausing to take a practised breath, before she could explode to a mindless rant.

“I got offered a role.”

“A role?” Irene feels dumb asking the question, her head quirking to the side.

“Yes unnie! A role.”

Something must have short-circuited in her brain because she repeats, “a role?”

“Yes unnie, THE role. You know?” Wendy starts to vibrate happily at the news, “remember? We talked about this last week! THE role!”

It takes Irene a few seconds before she finally processes her girlfriend’s words. She can’t help malfunctioning when Wendy is mouthing unnie so cutely.

Her heart starts to beat rapidly upon the realisation. Holy .

“Oh my god Wan-ah. For the musical?”

“Yes, unnie! The musical!”

Irene pulls Wendy down on the bed, tackling her to plant a multitude of playful pecks, hoping Wendy understands. Each kiss translating to ‘congratulations’, ‘I’m proud of you’, and most importantly, ‘I love you’. Irene starts by swiping Wendy’s bangs upward to place a playful kiss against the cutest forehead, travelling down to her nose, stamping three on each cheek, before finishing on her favourite pair of lips. And just because she also wants to add an ‘I missed you’, she steals another peck, this time firmer.

Normally, Irene would be annoyed by outside clothes contaminating her freshly laundered sheets, but she thinks she can make an exception for Wendy. Though, in all honesty, she will willingly discard all expectations and gladly break laws for Wendy.

“Unnie, stop it—” Wendy scrunches her nose and furrows her eyebrows from all the annoying flutter of kisses imprinted on her. She groans at the way that Irene disregards her protests.

Irene backs away, but not far enough that she’s unable to share the same space as Wendy’s uneven breaths. “Seungwan-ah, you can’t tell me to stop when I’m so happy for you.”

“Unnie…” Wendy fails to maintain eye contact, not when Irene is giving her the most loving of stares. Not when Irene is complimenting her as if she’s just solved something as incalculable as cancer. Not when Irene looks at her like loving is easy.

It makes her shy, so shrugs it off with a scoff. “You’re being greasy unnie.”

“I learnt from the best,” Irene throws her a flirty wink and Wendy swears she feels a fever coming with how flushed her cheeks feel.

Wendy turns a little, causing Irene to lose her balance, settling in the space next to her. Before Irene can even think of lifting herself to hover above Wendy again, her girlfriend snakes an arm around her waist and another to rest across her chest, hand landing on the space where Irene’s shoulder meets her neck.

Wendy settles her head on the vacant shoulder before nosing her favourite unnie’s neck, the garden scent of Downy Passion Parfum invading her nostrils. She relaxes after a whiff of the familiar floral scent, calming her racing heart.

She laughs at the dichotomy of it all—the very person that sends her heart racing a hundred miles a minute is also the same person that pulls her out of her nervous stupor, grounding her.

“I can’t believe it,” Wendy whispers, barely audible and muffled by the neck she continues to nose. She grazes the neck repeatedly as if scratching an itch.

Irene settles a hand on Wendy’s back, rubbing soothing circles, urging the younger girl to continue.

“It’s hard to imagine that anyone from the theatre industry would ever notice my presence. I’m just Wendy from Red Velvet. Everything just feels so surreal.”

Just Wendy from Red Velvet.

Irene feels familiarity at the words, and she feels a little angry. She doesn’t hesitate to counter her girlfriend, a gentle reminder that, “you’re far more than just Wendy from Red Velvet.”

Irene doesn’t know whether she should continue, but she can’t stand the doubt in Wendy’s heart. Does she not realise how amazing she is?

“You’re Wendy the soloist, singer of my favourite album. You’re Wendy the voice actress. You’re Wendy the actress, the funniest one in last year’s run of SNL. You’re WanD, the greatest radio DJ in all of Korea, for which I’m a proud Wanso of. You’re Seungwan, the most loving daughter to your parents, the insufferable dongsaeng to Seunghee, the affectionate unnie to Yerim and Sooyoung. You’re Seulgi’s business friend.”

Wendy chuckles at that.

“You’re my Seungwannie, my soulmate, my love.” She repeats one more time, the first time just not enough. “You’re more than just Wendy from Red Velvet.”

“Unnie…” Wendy feels the words stuck in , feeling all too lucky to have home wrapped around her arms. Lucky that someone sees the best parts of herself that she doesn’t.

Perhaps it was the years of insecurity, but a part of her still can’t quite believe that she’s all those wonderful things. When Irene looks at her with so much belief and conviction, she can’t help but accept the words like they were facts, much like how the sun will always rise in the east and set in the west.

Irene is a woman of few words, Wendy usually being the sociable one, the voice between the two. But in moments like this, Wendy is rendered speechless. Only she gets to see a rambling Irene, so passionately defending ‘not just Wendy from Red Velvet’.

Feeling like she’s said enough, she pulls Wendy closer to her, as if the space between them isn’t small enough. Irene would crawl under Wendy’s skin if she could, but this is as close as the laws of the universe would allow her. She places another forehead kiss, a full stop to conclude her arguments. “So, which musical is it?”

“It’s called Rebecca.” Wendy shifts to face the ceiling but still keeping the back of her head settled against Irene’s chest. As much as she wants to continue smelling her girlfriend, oxygen is unfortunately still a necessity for survival.

Irene just hums, urging the younger to continue.

“I don’t technically have the role yet. I would still have to audition for it, but the directors and producers really wanted me to be a part of the musical. I was hoping you can help me rehearse my lines for it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Sooyoung or Yerim? They have more experience with acting.”

Irene senses the flirtatious lilt to Wendy’s voice and braces herself for the onslaught of greasy remarks. “Don’t tell them I said this but,” Wendy leans in closely, sharing a secret only for Irene to hear, “I personally think you’re the best actress of this generation. There’s no other option but you for me, unnie.”

Irene just sighs in exasperation, fully expecting those words dripping honey. “What am I gonna do with you Son Seungwan?”

“So, is that a yes?” Wendy completely ignores her girlfriend, her hand crawling its way up to Irene’s nape. “Are you helping me practice?”

“Yes, but,” Irene sits up a little, her elbow holding most of her weight. She wants to see Wendy’s face. “You have to do one more thing for me.”

“What is it, unnie?” Wendy’s hand starts to scratch at the baby hairs on Irene’s nape, an action she knows her girlfriend absolutely loves. Maybe she was imagining things, but she thinks she heard a low purr rumble against Irene’s chest.

“Kiss me.”

Wendy doesn’t miss a beat and pulls her girlfriend close, eliminating the remaining distance between them as their lips meet.

Irene moans against her, revelling in the sensation of coming home.

~

Wendy spends the past hour organising her shared room with Irene, even after knowing that there are hotel staff specifically tasked with housekeeping, but she needed to clear her head.

She needed to reassess where things had gone wrong.

“Wendy-unnie?” There’s a light knock on the door before it opens. Wendy doesn’t even hear it, entirely distracted as she dissects every moment in her head, every interaction she had with Irene. If it wasn’t for the four taps on her shoulder, she wouldn’t even have noticed the new presence in the room.

“Yerim-ah you scared me!” Wendy grasps her chest in an effort to stop her heart from jumping out.

“That’s not really my fault. For once in my life, I knocked! And I called out your name, but apparently that pillow is far more interesting.” Yeri looks around the room, noticing the uncanny cleanliness. “Unnie you do know that housekeeping is literally on speed-dial right?”

Wendy shrugs of the remark, moving Irene’s pillow a centimetre to the right. She should at least get something right.

“Are you okay?” Yeri asks, feeling Wendy retreat into her own mind again, restless and lost.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking.” Wendy settles the pillow back to how it was before, unsatisfied by the minute change she made, before sitting down and releasing a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“I saw Irene-unnie head out with Seulgi-unnie. Aren’t you supposed to go with them? Museum hopping, buying whacky souvenirs, abusing Seulgi-unnie’s photography skills just so you can get professional-looking couple photos with Irene-unnie?”

“Yeah, I was. I’m busy. I—“ Wendy diverges from the question, instead voicing out the stormy thoughts in her head. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You did something wrong?”

Wendy doesn’t bother addressing the question, instead mumbling in remorse, “I think Joohyunnie’s going to break up with me.”

Yeri scoffs at the incredulity of the statement, she can’t help but laugh a little. “You’re being dramatic, Irene-unnie isn’t breaking up with you.”

Wendy is panicking, nothing about this situation is funny. How can Yeri laugh at a time like this? She’s about to lose the only woman she has ever loved in her life. “She is!”

Yeri feels the tiniest bit of sympathy for her unnie after noticing the way Wendy’s eyes start to fill with unshed tears. “Unnie, what happened? I honestly think there’s no way Irene-unnie’s ever breaking up with you, but please do enlighten me on why you think she is.”

“Joohyunnie—She—She didn’t kiss me good morning!”

“She didn’t kiss you good morning?” Yeri feels lost, the whole situation feeling like a scene from those generic sitcoms. “You think she’s breaking up with you because she didn’t kiss you good morning?”

“Yes!” Wendy gesticulates, waving her arms around in exasperation. “And she didn’t cuddle me this morning! We always cuddle in the morning, and lately we’ve been-” There was a tentative pause as Wendy thinks about how much she can share. She knows Yeri is all grown up, but she can’t shake the image of sixteen-year-old Yerim and the way she prepared snacks for the girl before she headed to school. Yeri will always be a baby in her eyes. How can she possibly share moments that are too intimate even for locked rooms and closed doors?

“Y’know…”

“You’re going to have to say more than just ‘y’know’ because I do not know.” Of course Yeri knows exactly what Wendy’s talking about. She and Seulgi have been playing rock paper scissors on who gets the room next to the couple. She’s been victim to strange noises and muffled yelps on nights she was unfortunate enough to have lost. But how could she pass up a moment to favourite unnie, even if she is on the verge of tears?

Wendy easily gives up explaining, resuming her moping. “She doesn’t love me anymore. She’s leaving me!”

Yeri thinks about the past few days and how often Wendy has stayed in, choosing to lock herself in the hotel room instead of roaming Europe and doing all the tourist-y things they said they would do.

Yeri thinks she has an idea of what happened.

Maybe her Irene-unnie has finally had enough of her girlfriend being an absolute hermit. But maybe she’ll say a euphemised version of that. She doesn’t want Irene’s wrath to fall upon her if she ever finds out that she made her girlfriend cry.

“Unnie, you have been staying in a lot. We’re on tour together, but we probably only ever see you during rehearsals or during the concert itself. You’ve been spending all your time practising and memorising for the musical.”

“But I have to!” Wendy returned defensively. “I can’t mess up like I did before.”

“It doesn’t count as messing up if you got the role anyways. They were just scaring you, it’s basically their job to make auditionees squirm. You’re just being hard on yourself, and in doing so, neglected all the relationships around you.” Yeri deadpans.

“I-”

Checkmate.

“Go out today, unnie. Take a well-deserved break. You can catch up with Irene and Seulgi-unnie. I’m sure Irene-unnie will brighten right up when she sees you getting some sunlight. And if your presence isn’t enough, maybe pout a little. That always gets to her.”

Wendy still looks a little unsure but she no longer looks like the world is ending. Yeri gives her another pat on the head before she heads for the door. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that she’s the youngest one.

“I’m going out with Herin again today by the way. I’m meeting her for brunch but heading back up here. You better be out by then unnie.”

“Hmmph.” Wendy grumbles in defeat, knowing that their maknae is entirely right.

~

2 months ago.

Irene walks into their bedroom finding Wendy splayed on the bed. The sight was absolutely comical, but she can’t let a giggle escape, lest she wants a sulking Seungwan the entire night.

“C’mon Wannie, I’ve finished heating up the takeout you bought.”

“They’re for you.” Wendy grumbles into the lavender-scented pillow, must be the new fabric conditioner Irene wanted to try out. “I’m too tired to eat.”

There are times when Irene forgets that her girlfriend has already hit thirty. How can a thirty-year-old be this cute?

“You ordered so much though, we wouldn’t want it to go to waste right?” Irene heads over to the other side of the bed, wrapping a hand around Wendy’s limp arm. “Wannie, please? I would really love to have dinner with you.”

Another bout of indecipherable grumbling comes out of Wendy.

“Think of it as a date. We haven’t had one in a while.”

“Dates are supposed to be special, unnie.” Wendy simply retorts, not falling for any of Irene’s charms. Irene might be charismatic, but Wendy’s need for sleep has made her unsusceptible to her unnie’s melodic persuasions. She refuses to be cajoled. Just this once.

“Are you saying that not every moment with me is special?”

Now this is where it gets tricky. Wendy knows a trap when she sees one. She’d like to think that her years of experience has brought about an exemplary of precedents.

Wendy turns over, finally releasing her face from her self-induced suffocation against the pillow. “You’re special unnie, and any moment with you is special. I’m saying the takeout isn’t special enough to be considered as date material. You deserve nothing but all the special things in the world unnie.”

Wendy mentally gives herself a pat on the back, trying to bite back the smirk that was about to bloom on her face.

“So, you’re saying I’m that special?”

Wendy feels confidence awash her, she can’t help but feel smug. She’s about to get away from dinner.

“Yes, unnie! The most special!”

“So, you’re telling me, I could be the most special person in the world, but that wouldn’t be enough to equate to the worth needed to have dinner with you.”

Wendy forgot that out of all the precedents she’s learnt over the years, the first and most important one was: What Irene wants, Irene always gets.

Wendy sits up quickly, not allowing any time for Irene to twist her words to her favour. “Let’s have dinner, I’d be the luckiest woman alive to share this night with you.”

Irene brings all the dirty plates to the kitchen, stacking them carefully, before plugging the sink and filling it with warm water. She gets started on placing all the utensils first and then the bigger plates and rice bowls.

She feels Wendy’s presence not too far away. She can hear the gentle padding sounds of Wendy’s sock-clad feet against their wooden floors. She can hear the condiments making its way back to their spice cupboard. She hears Wendy’s every movement until she doesn’t.

She continues to thoroughly rinse all their tableware, unaware of the presence behind her.

Suddenly, she feels an arm creep up to circle her waist; a warm hand snaking across and settling on her stomach.

“Unnie, I missed you today.” The ghost of a kiss lingers on her right ear.

Irene tries to stop the tornado of affection threatening to crawl out of her chest. “Hmph, and you didn’t even want to have dinner with me. Your dirty tricks don’t work on me Son Seungwan.”

It does, but Wendy doesn’t have to know that.

“I love you, unnie.” Wendy completely ignores Irene’s whining instead; she glides her fingers over soft stomach. She draws patterns of hearts and infinities. Sometimes her fingers would hover, barely grazing the warm skin and leaving an unfinished artwork, so she tries to draw the shape again, this time with firmer pressure against the gentle rise and fall of Irene’s stomach.

Wendy starts nosing her neck too, Irene’s scent all too enticing. “You smell so good, Joohyunnie.”

“It’s your body wash.” Irene refuses to give in.

“I know. You smell so good,” Wendy places a loving peck on the expanse just below Irene’s ear, “and mine.”

Irene feels the tickling sensation of Wendy’s breath against her, dishes long forgotten. She feels warm all of a sudden. She wonders if Wendy feels the heat radiating off her, or does Wendy think it’s just her own breathing bouncing off Irene’s neck?

She can’t take it anymore.

Irene turns around. She doesn’t know whether it was to establish more distance between them or to mould herself closer to Wendy, the touches feeling entirely intoxicating.

“Seungwan,” Irene warns, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you to ditch the dishes.” Wendy’s hand doesn’t leave her. Instead, it travels upwards, settling on her spine. She feels fingers mapping out her vertebrae, paying special attention to every single disc. “I think I’ve lost my effect on you though. Are dishes really that much better than me?”

Irene tries not to give in. But what fight does she have when Wendy’s lips are only an inch away? Looking delectable. Biteable. Looking like mine.

She gives in.

“You tired me out, unnie.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Wendy turns her neck, trying to get a better look at her girlfriend who’s spooning her from behind. She bites back a smile at how Irene looks so much like an angry bunny. Unintimidating and entirely too cute. She almost wants to bite Irene’s cheeks with how much it’s puffing out. And she almost does.

Almost.

The hickeys that decorated Irene’s chest aren’t too bad, all carefully placed on areas naturally covered by clothing. But if she leaves a bite mark on her cheeks? It surely spells the end for her. Irene wouldn’t hesitate to choke her. And not in a way.

Wendy sits up so suddenly that Irene is thrown back in bed, unable to keep her hold on her girlfriend.

“What now?” Irene hisses.

It’s comical seeing Irene’s brows furrow deeply, almost meeting. Wendy looks apologetic, she cups Irene’s cheeks, pecking her twice on the lips and another one just between the brows. She smoothens those perfectly shaped arches with a gentle massage from her thumbs.

And it works, Irene’s gaze softening immediately. She repeats, gentler this time. “What is it?”

“I need to practice my lines.” Wendy looks dejected at the realisation. Stupid musical taking her away from cuddle time.

Irene hums in contemplation before shrugging off Wendy’s gentle caresses and sliding her legs to get off the bed.

“Joohyunnie?”

Irene rounds to the other side, helping Wendy up. She makes sure that the white sheet is fastened securely around her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Wait there.”

Irene strides towards their walk-in closet and comes out wearing a long-sleeved baseball shirt and track pants. She takes with her a set of clothes that Wendy recognises. It’s her Grooverhyme sweatshirt and sweatpants set.

“Unnie, I spent the past hour getting both of us undressed only for you to cover me back up. Should I be offended?”

“Stop playing around Son Seungwan and get dressed. You said you needed to practice your lines.”

“Yeah,” Wendy steps closer to Irene, ignoring the clothes stretched out to her, “but we can do that -!”

“I know you.” Irene can’t help but roll her eyes. “You won’t be doing much practising.”

“Yeah, because I’d rather practice something else with you.” Wendy retorts. She can’t believe out of all times; Irene chooses to be responsible now.

“Hurry up, I’m taking you on a drive.” Irene looks across, craning her neck to glance at the desk clock just behind Wendy. “Maybe the drive will help you stay awake.”

“It’s late.”

“We barely slept before debuting.”

“You have a photoshoot tomorrow morning!” Wendy feels like she can win. “You actually need the sleep, unnie. I’m just being dramatic. I know my lines well. I’m just paranoid.”

“You’re meticulous and attentive to details. Nothing’s wrong with that.” Irene looks at her in challenge. “I know you, you’re going to be tossing and turning the whole entire night. Neither of us are getting sleep anyways. We might as well put the time to good use.”

Wendy can’t find any fault in that, but she’s still worried. “You have a schedule tomorrow, I need you to get some sleep. I feel bad asking you to give that away for me.”

To Irene, it’s an absolute no-brainer choosing between sleep and helping Wendy with her lines. In all honesty, she would want nothing more than to cuddle her Seungwan and surrender to a deep slumber, but she would pass up on comfort and 8 hours of rest if it means she gets to do what’s best for Wendy.

Love is not without sacrifices. Nothing’s a greater display of love than choosing to do the things you don’t want to do. I don’t want to do this, but you need to. So, I will do it with you.

She would always choose Seungwan over sleep. She already chose Seungwan and fought the company for them, negotiating all the ways they can stay together – even if it meant a limitation will be placed on their skin-ship when in front of the public eyes. Losing sleep is nothing, compared to almost losing their livelihood after being found out.

“This musical is important to you. You’re important to me. So, the musical is just as much of a priority for me as it is to you.” Irene says as a matter of fact. “Now, go get changed before I ravish you again.”

Irene grabs Wendy’s hand and places the clothes there. She throws a flirtatious wink and kisses Wendy one last time before heading out to their living room, leaving a bewildered Wendy.

“I wouldn’t mind!” Wendy yells into the empty room.

Night times were cold, not as cold as it was when snow would fall most nights, but remnants of winter still lingers. Wendy adjusts the car’s thermostat to its heating mode upon seeing Irene rubbing her arms from the cold air.

Even after years of being together, there are things that don’t change. Irene still never admits when she’s cold and it’s up to Wendy to warm her up – whether Wendy does it with her own warmth or by adjusting the heater to 28°C depending on their whereabouts.

Irene drives expertly, driving with one hand and smoothly merging into main roads without hesitation.

“Why aren’t you practising?” Irene scolds, eyes completely focused on the road.

“I will,” Wendy instead reaches for the hand that’s resting idly on the gear stick. She sandwiches the smaller hand between hers before playing with every single one of Irene’s fingers. She takes her time, paying attention from the bumps of her knuckles to the soft hairs just above it. Wendy stops eventually, fingers resting on Irene’s ring.

“You’re wearing it.”

“And you’re not wearing yours.” Irene returns petulantly.

“No one’s going to see it anyway, so why wear it?”

Wendy thinks she sees a pained look, but it was gone just as fast as it