a/n - slightly matured content in this chapter (kiss kiss hickey)

—

"So what did you study in school?" Jimin asks her, rather unexpectedly one day while they're driving back to Minjeong's after dinner.

Minjeong chances a glance at her. "What brought this on?" She responds instead of answering.

Jimin hums, still fascinated with the sights of the city, if the way she keeps looking out the window is any indication. "I just realized I've never asked. I know your favorite color, but not which school you went to."

"You know my favorite color?" Minjeong asks, putting a hand up in defense when Jimin shoots her a look. "Of course I do, it's all over your place."

"Fine, fine. It's not like it's a secret, anyway." She acquiesces. "I went to Yangsan. Majored in History of Art and Architecture with a certificate in Medieval and Renaissance Studies. Department names, not mine."

"That's—" Jimin starts, eyes widening. "Wow, that must have been a lot of work."

"It's not too bad if you enjoy it," Minjeong says with a chuckle. "I actually used to dream about working at the Art Museum. I mean, the History Art periods are my thing, but I've always loved Warhol's work. And you know, honestly, I'm not even good at art, but you want a three thousand word analysis comparing Gericault and Delacroix and how they influenced later French art, then I'm your girl."

Taking a deep breath and only now realizing that she hadn't breathed once during that whole rant, Minjeong feels her face heat up. "And that was way more information than you were probably looking for."

"No, not at all!" Jimin laughs. "I think that's the most fired-up I've ever seen you. It's fun to see people get so passionate about the things they love."

"You should see me at a baseball games." Minjeong jokes, blush still stubbornly on her face. "Well, what about you? Where'd you go to school?"

"Hansol High School, actually," Jimin admits, eyes averting back out the window in what Minjeong can only assume is a fit of shyness. "I was a drama major at Hansol for the Arts. I used to want to do Broadway."

"Really? That's amazing!"

Jimin makes a noise in the back of her throat, something between a chuckle and hum. "It's a lot less glamorous than it sounds."

"A bit like being a movie star?" Minjeong quips, turning onto her street.

"Oh, trust me. Broadway is infinitely less glamorous than acting in movies." Jimin tells her with a full laugh. "Shows every night and even some afternoons. It takes over your whole life. And overseas is so much more stressful than Korea."

"Is it really that bad?"

"I think it's the weather," Jimin says. "It's either too hot and muggy or too cold and windy there, and it drives people mad."

Minjeong snorts, pulling into an open parking spot a house down from her place. "As opposed to overseas, where it's hot all the time."

"You get used to it." Jimin argues. "Though I do miss the snow. I'm a bit sad the filming won't last till winter."

"Ha, if you think winter's here are anything like winters in overseas, you have another thing coming." Minjeong jokes, getting out of the car and waiting for Jimin to do the same before locking the doors. "The potholes are ridiculous and the roads are about as straight as I am."

"Which is to say, not at all."

"Exactly!" Minjeong agrees. She walks up the walkway to her house, unlocking and opening the door and holding it for Jimin.

"That's how I came out to my parents, actually."

Jimin lets out a noise caught somewhere between a gasp and a giggle, hand quickly moving to cover her mouth. "You didn't!"

"I did," Minjeong says gleefully. "I used to live in a village, in a real hard neighborhood to get to, and my dad was complaining about all the twists and turns on the road. 'Why can't any of these damned roads be straight!' he yelled, and I said, 'I don't blame them, I'm also having trouble being straight' and he turned bright red and nearly ran us off the road, he was trying to so hard to assure me that he still loves me."

"No way," Jimin laughs, taking a seat on Minjeong's couch. "You're making this up."

"Couldn't make it up if I tried," Minjeong replies before flopping on the couch herself. "After we got to my place, he lectured me about dropping bombs on him like that while he's driving, and then he told me not to tell my mom about it, because they had a bet going about when I was going to come out to them, and I told him too early for him to win."

"Did you listen to him?"

"Yeah, of course, after I got him to promise to give me half his winnings." Minjeong says. "He said it wasn't about the money so much as being right. Mom found out about a month after she paid him, and she nearly boxed my ears for helping dad win."

"And then?" Jimin asks, pulling her legs onto the couch and smiling warmly when Minjeong nudges them until they're resting on her lap.

"She demanded that dad give her back the money, though she let me keep the part he gave me. Told me that if I'd come clean to her sooner, she would have given me all of her winnings instead of just half."

Jimin laughs again, hand seemingly glued to her lips with the way she keeps it there as she laughs. "What a pity."

"I thought it was too funny to care," Minjeong admits. "My parents can get pretty crazy."

"They sound like lovely people," Jimin says. "Though I'm not surprised, given they raised someone like you."

Minjeong feels heat rush to her face, and she ducks her head to hide the blush. "What about you?" Minjeong asks. "Any funny coming out stories?"

Jimin scoffs and rolls her eyes, the small smile still gracing her lips the only indication the actions are more amused than derisive. "Hardly." She says. "When I told my parents, they treated it like I had just told them the most boring news in the world."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Jimin says with a slight nod. "I believe my mother said 'That's great, dear, now finish your dinner before it gets cold'"

"Really?" Minjeong asks again, hands idly playing with Jimin's legs.

"Really," Jimin tells her. "I was so nervous, too. It took me weeks to build up the courage to tell them, and they were so nonchalant about it."

Minjeong laughs incredulously. "But they don't have a problem with it?"

"I don't think so," Jimin says, leg twitching when Minjeong traces a finger down her ankle. "At least, if they do, they're incredibly good at hiding it."

"You know, in a way, that story's more entertaining than mine." Minjeong muses, repeating the motion and laughing when Jimin shoots her a glare. "I've probably heard hundreds of coming out stories, and I've never heard one like that."

"Want to switch parents?" Jimin jokes, poking Minjeong in the stomach with her feet as payback. "I think I'd take bets over 'Yes, yes, you like girls, but this your father's secret chicken recipe, and it won't do for it get cold.'"

Laughing again—partially from the joke, partially from Jimin getting her in a particularly ticklish part of her body— Minjeong clutches Jimin's ankle to keep her from digging her foot into her stomach again. "That depends. How good is your dad's secret chicken recipe? Because my dad can't cook worth shit."

Jimin just grins at her, trying to give Minjeong's stomach another few pokes with her other foot. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to make it for you sometime, and you can decide for yourself."

"Deal," Minjeong says, desperately trying to defend her stomach from Jimin's feet. "But please stop tickling me, or I might have to kick you off the couch."

—

"Jimin, are you sure this is a good idea?" Minjeong asks, hands gripping Jimin's shirt. They're in the trailer, on the futon couch Jimin likes to take naps on during breaks.

"We need as many people to talk as possible." Jimin replies, fingers fiddling with Minjeong's jeans belt loops. "The make-up artists couldn't care less about me, but they'll definitely remember that they had to cover up a hickey. And the crew's not going to miss us walking out of the trailer together looking disheveled."

Minjeong picks at the collar of Jimin's shirt, still hesitant. "No one's going to think we're dating unless the crew believes it. Not when they're the ones who spread all the rumors. Plus, the sooner the rumors start, the sooner Jaemin will stop breathing down your neck. Now come on, Minjeong." Jimin urges, tilting her head to expose her neck.

"Alright, fine." Minjeong gives in, leaning in and pressing her lips lightly to Jimin's neck.

"Don't be nervous, Minjeong." Jimin says. A breathy laugh escapes her lips as Minjeong's tongue slips out to give her skin the slightest of licks. "And make it as messy as you can. It needs to be the most obvious hickey the crew's ever seen."

Slipping her bottom lip between her teeth, Minjeong takes an unsteady breath and grunts an acknowledgement to Jimin's order. She presses her lips to the smooth expanse of skin harder this time, before parting them to lather the spot with her tongue.

Jimin let out a gasp, and for a second, Minjeong's not on a futon in a star's trailer, giving an actress a hickey. She's on the ratty couch in her apartment, making out with her girlfriend.

Closing her eyes, she gives in to the fantasy, her imagination emboldening her and pushing her to drag her teeth over that same spot on Jimin's neck. Right now, in her mind, Jimin's not Yu Jimin the rising young actress, she's just Jimin, Minjeong's girlfriend, the person Minjeong most definitely has the right to mark up.

Before long, she's catching Jimin's skin between her teeth and tugging gently until Jimin breathes out a small moan. The sound sends a shiver through Minjeong's body, and driven to hear it again, she releases the skin and starts sucking. Pulling away after a few, long seconds, she glances at the once spotless, pale skin through hooded eyes, and smiles at the contrast of the reddening mark on Jimin's fair complexion.

Minjeong licks her lips and lowers her head, sucking at a new spot on Jimin's neck while Jimin's hands thread through her hair. One new mark leads to two, two to three, and by the time Minjeong pulls away again, hickeys of all shapes and sizes are scattered all over Jimin's neck.

Jimin's hands are still tangled in her hair, so instead of moving away fully, Minjeong releases her fistfuls of Jimin's shirt and lifts her hands to cup JImin's neck, thumbs rubbing the marks dotting the skin there. Leaning down one more time, she angles her head up to press her lips to Jimin's and feels the beginning of a sound rumbling against her palms, but rather than a noise of protest, the only thing that escapes from Jimin's lips is another moan as she parts them for Minjeong's tongue.

Minjeong's hands slip away from Jimin's neck and trail down to where the hem of her shirt meets her jeans. Her fingers play with the cloth for a few moments before slipping underneath the soft material and brushing against the smooth skin of Jimin's stomach. Jimin jerks away, as if in surprise, and gasps Minjeong's name.

"Minjeong—"

MInjeong presses her hands flat against Jimin's abdomen and reclaims her lips, a moan rumbling in the back of her throat when Jimin tugs at her hair. She's right about to slip her tongue back into Jimin's mouth when a knock at the trailer door interrupts them. They break apart grudgingly, and the hazy, hooded look Jimin gives Minjeong sends a jolt of electricity straight through her chest and to all of her extremities.

"Jimin-sshi, make-up and hair want you in ten minutes." The voice of some assistant announces through the closed door, making Minjeong pull her hands out of Jimin's shirt.

Jimin frees her hands from where they had been thoroughly caught in Minjeong's hair and looks at herself in the mirror across from the futon. Flexing her neck to get a better look at her neck, she runs a hand down her wrinkled shirt and laughs. "Went a little overboard, don't you think?"

Minjeong flushes, embarrassed at her apparent lack of control. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jimin says with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Minjeong's cheek. "It's more convincing than I thought it was going to be."

"You're welcome?" Minjeong replies uncertainly, checking her own state in the mirror. Her lips are red and swollen and her hair an absolute mess. She raises a hand to run through her messy hair, but Jimin grabs her wrist to halt her.

"Leave it. We can't have anyone mistaking who I was just making out with." She says with a wink.

With that, she stands and leaves the trailer, pausing only to blow Minjeong a kiss before leaving the younger girl dumbstruck on the futon couch.

"Shit," She laughs, nervously.

____

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