𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷 & 𝓙𝓲𝓱𝔂𝓸 | 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓤𝓼

The subterranean practice building lobby is quiet as the late-evening hours set in, the polished marble floors reflecting the warm halogen lighting overhead. The long schedules for the day have finally wrapped, leaving the hallway smelling faintly of ozone, floor polish, and lingering stage hairspray. You barely have time to step out of the glass elevator doors before a warm, energetic force hooks an arm tightly around yours.

Yunjin pulls herself flush against your side, her dark eyes flashing with immediate triumph as she rests her chin casually on your shoulder.

"Finally," Yunjin sighs dramatically, her voice echoing off the glass walls as she tightens her grip on your forearm, leaving zero doubt as to who claimed you first. "I thought those last-minute choreography notes were going to drag on until midnight. I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and we are getting out of here right now."

Before you can even answer, the quiet chime of the adjacent elevator rings out. The doors slide open to reveal Park Jihyo. She isn't rushing; she steps into the lobby with a calm, measured, effortlessly smooth composure, carrying two iced coffees from the high-end café down the block. Her eyes scan the lobby, landing instantly on Yunjin’s tight grip on your arm. A slow, knowing, highly calculated smile touches her lips.

"I brought yours the exact way you actually like it," Jihyo says smoothly, strolling over without a single hint of hurry. She completely bypasses Yunjin, extending one of the cups directly into your space, her fingers brushing deliberately against yours as you take it. "Extra shot, zero syrup. She always manages to get the sugar order wrong on purpose because she prefers sweet drinks."

"I get it the way I like it on you," Yunjin snaps back instantly, not loosening her grip on your arm for even a fraction of a second. She tilts her head up at you, her pout turning into a sharp, teasing grin. "There’s a massive difference between knowing what someone orders and knowing what they actually want, Jihyo."

Jihyo doesn't flinch. She simply takes a slow, graceful sip from her own cup, her dark eyes holding yours over the rim with a possessive, unbothered intensity.

"Walk me to my car," Jihyo commands softly, her voice carrying that natural, quiet authority that makes it almost impossible to say no. "My driver is already circling the main entrance block. Unless, of course, you’re busy being used as a human coat rack for the rest of the night."

"We already have plans," Yunjin interjects loudly, her fingers digging a little firmer into your jacket sleeve as she steps directly into Jihyo's line of sight. "Late dinner. I texted you about the place this morning."

"You texted the group chat," Jihyo corrects smoothly, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow as she tilts her head. "That was a vague group suggestion, Yunjin. Not an actual reservation. And certainly not an exclusive one."

A long, heavy beat of silence falls over the private lobby. Both of them stand on either side of you—Yunjin clinging tightly to your left arm with aggressive, bright energy, and Jihyo standing coolly to your right, radiating calm, irresistible dominance. Both of them are smiling warmly, looking for all the world like loving best friends, while an absolute war rages in the space between them.

"Fine," Yunjin says, her voice dropping into a sharp, competitive purr as she looks you dead in the eyes. "Ask them directly. Straight question right here in front of both of us: Who are you leaving with tonight?"

Jihyo shifts her weight slightly, stepping half an inch closer so her perfume completely fills your senses, her smile widening just a fraction.

"No pressure at all," Jihyo adds softly, her eyes glinting with dangerous confidence. "I'll just stand right here looking better until you decide."

The heavy card-key lock of the luxury hotel suite disengages with a sharp electronic beep, and the heavy door hasn't even clicked fully shut before Yunjin has you backed hard against the dark entryway wall. Her hands are already in your hair, her breath hot, ragged, and impatient against the skin of your throat as she pulls you down into a bruised, desperate kiss that tastes like sweet champagne.

It was supposed to be a quiet, civil 'one drink' after the joint brand schedule wrapped up. Yunjin had made sure to pull you into her room first while Jihyo was busy talking to staff down the hall. But the illusion of private isolation lasts less than two full minutes.

A soft metallic click echoes from the lock as the door swings open again. Jihyo walks in, holding a spare key card between two fingers with a smooth, completely shameless smirk. She sets her designer bag down on the entryway console like she owns the entire floor, her dark eyes tracking the way Yunjin is clinging to you against the wall.

"Cute," Jihyo purrs softly, closing the door behind her with the heel of her shoe as she unbuttons her dark blazer. "You started without me. Move over."

"You always do this," Yunjin groans against your jawline, her voice thick and flushed, though her hands only tighten their grip on your waist, pulling you harder against her body in a direct refusal to yield. "You show up five minutes after I've already done all the actual work.”

"Then work harder," Jihyo replies smoothly, stepping straight into your personal space without a shred of hesitation. "Or step back and learn how it's actually done."

Jihyo doesn't ask for permission or wait for an invitation. She reaches out, her hand resting firmly on the back of your neck, and turns your face toward her—pulling you into a slow, deep, devastatingly possessive kiss that completely steals the breath from your lungs. Yunjin lets out a sharp, frustrated noise against your neck, her hands sliding lower down your hips, claiming every inch of skin she can reach while Jihyo's mouth commands your attention.

Within minutes, clothes end up discarded on the carpet in rushed, competitive pieces—every tug, shove, and pull heavy with an active, electric rivalry. Jihyo remains composed, filthy, and deliberate, leaning in to bite softly at your shoulder while whispering low against your skin about how well she knows every single thing Yunjin can't stand.

Yunjin, driven wild by the competition, grows louder and far more vocal, climbing straight into your lap the second there is an inch of space on the bed, straddling you with absolute, possessive intent to reclaim her territory.

"Look at me while she’s touching you," Yunjin commands breathlessly, her dark eyes burning into yours as her hands grip your wrists, her chest heaving. "Look at me. I want her to watch you completely fall apart for me."

Jihyo lets out a low, dark laugh from beside you, her fingers tracing a slow, agonizing path up your inner thigh, completely unbothered by Yunjin's outburst.

"Greedy girl," Jihyo whispers against your ear, her breath sending a shiver through your spine. "Fine. Take the first round, Yunjin. I'll take the one that actually matters."

Neither of them makes a move to step back or leave the bed. Every gasp, every moan, and every touch is half pleasure, half direct challenge to the other. When you lean toward one, the other immediately pulls you back with possessive urgency—two best friends completely consumed by jealousy, utterly refusing to lose.

"Tonight you're sleeping in this bed," Jihyo murmurs, her fingers digging firmly into your hip as she pulls you toward her. "Her couch can wait."

"Or they can stay right here and keep score," Yunjin counters sharply, her mouth trailing down your neck as her hips shift against yours. "I don't care. Just don't you dare go soft on me now."