After the Encore

The humid Texas night air was a stark contrast to the frigid, air-conditioned sanctuary of the backstage dressing room at the Moody Center. Outside, thousands of ONCEs were still buzzing, spilling out into the Austin streets with lightsticks still glowing. Inside, the members of TWICE were in various stages of collapse.

The "Ready to Be" tour was grueling, and the energy in Austin had been particularly electric. Sweat-soaked hair was being pinned back, stage makeup was being swiped away with cleansing oil, and the frantic adrenaline of the last three hours was finally beginning to simmer down into a heavy, contented exhaustion.

Mina sat on one of the long, velvet couches pushed against the far wall. She had already changed out of her glittering stage ensemble and into a simple, oversized black hoodie and joggers. Despite the casual clothes, she looked ethereal—calm, composed, and devastatingly beautiful. She leaned her head back against the cushion, her eyes closed, listening to the chaotic chatter of Nayeon and Jeongyeon arguing over what kind of late-night food to order.

Her peace, however, was short-lived.

A small, solid weight suddenly climbed onto her lap. Mina didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was. The scent of expensive floral perfume and a hint of lingering stage hairspray gave it away instantly.

"Minari," Chaeyoung murmured, her voice a low, gravelly rasp from hitting her rap verses.

Mina opened her eyes to find Chaeyoung straddling her thighs. The younger girl was still in her stage outfit—a cropped, edgy leather vest that showed off the intricate ink dancing across her arms. Her face was flushed, her eyes dark and heavy with a lingering post-show high that she clearly didn’t want to let go of yet.

"You worked hard, Chaeying," Mina said softly, her hands instinctively coming up to rest on Chaeyoung’s waist.

But Chaeyoung wasn't looking for a gentle pat on the back. She was restless. She was always like this after a big show—vibrating with a primal sort of energy that needed a place to land. And usually, that place was Mina.

"I'm so wired," Chaeyoung whispered, leaning in until her nose brushed against Mina’s neck. "My heart is still racing. Feel it."

Instead of placing Mina’s hand over her heart, Chaeyoung took the initiative. She shifted her weight, pressing her hips firmly down into Mina’s lap. She began a slow, deliberate grind, her movements fluid and rhythmic.

Mina’s breath hitched. She looked around the room quickly. Jihyo was busy talking to a manager in the corner; Sana and Momo were tangled together on a different chair, sharing a pair of earbuds; Dahyun and Tzuyu were focused on their phones. They were "alone" in a room full of people, a bubble of intimacy in the middle of the post-concert chaos.

"Chaeyoung-ah," Mina warned, though her voice lacked any real bite. Her fingers tightened on Chaeyoung’s waist, digging into the soft skin just above the waistband of her shorts.

"No one is looking," Chaeyoung teased, her voice muffled against Mina’s collarbone. She didn't stop. In fact, she leaned back slightly, her hands reaching down to find the hem of Mina’s hoodie.

Chaeyoung’s eyes locked onto Mina’s, a silent, daring challenge shimmering in them. She was small, yes, and often acted like the pampered "baby" of the group, but in moments like this, her need to be close to Mina—to be held and dominated by Mina’s quiet strength—came out in full force. She was a submissive creature by nature when it came to her Sharon, seeking the grounding friction that only the older girl could provide.

She slid her hands up under the fabric of the hoodie. Her palms were warm, slightly damp from the stage lights, and they found exactly what they were looking for: Mina’s midsection.

Mina’s abs were legendary for a reason. Years of ballet and rigorous dance training had sculpted her core into something firm and defined. As Chaeyoung’s fingers traced the hard lines of the muscle, she let out a shaky, needy exhale.

"I love these," Chaeyoung whispered, her hips hitching in a quicker, more desperate motion. "They're so hard."

Mina’s composure began to fray. The friction of Chaeyoung’s denim shorts against her own sweatpants, combined with the bold, worshipful way Chaeyoung was kneading her stomach, sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. Mina shifted, widening her legs slightly to allow Chaeyoung to sink deeper against her.

"Are you being a brat?" Mina murmured, her voice dropping an octave.

Chaeyoung whimpered, the sound lost against the fabric of Mina’s hoodie. She increased the pressure, her forehead resting against Mina’s shoulder as she worked herself against the older girl. She felt small, shielded, and completely consumed by Mina’s presence.

"Just missed you," Chaeyoung lied poorly, her breath hot against Mina’s skin. "Missed being close."

Across the room, the noise level spiked. "Pizza is here!" Nayeon shouted, clapping her hands.

The sudden outburst made Chaeyoung jump, her movements stuttering for a second, but she didn't get off. Instead, she tucked her head into the crook of Mina’s neck, hiding her blushing face.

"Hey, where are the kids?" Jeongyeon asked, her eyes scanning the room. They landed on the couch. She paused, her eyebrows shooting up. "Oh. Well. Someone’s having a moment."

Jihyo looked over, sighed the weary sigh of a leader who had seen it all, and turned back to the pizza boxes. "Just leave them. If Chaeyoung doesn't get her cuddles now, she’ll be grumpy on the flight to Houston."

Momo poked her head over Jihyo’s shoulder, a piece of pepperoni already in her mouth. "That looks like more than cuddles. Go off, MiTzu... wait, no, MiChaeng."

Chaeyoung froze, her face burning. She expected Mina to push her off, to be embarrassed by the public display. But Mina simply wrapped her arms around Chaeyoung’s back, pulling her flush against her chest.

"She's tired," Mina said calmly to the group, her tone final. It was the "mom" voice that brooked no argument.

Once the members turned their attention back to the food, Mina looked down at the girl in her lap. Chaeyoung was looking up at her through her lashes, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth—the universal sign that she knew she’d been caught being "handsy."

"You were saying?" Mina prompted, a small, elegant smirk playing on her lips.

Chaeyoung didn't say anything. She simply reached back under the hoodie, her fingers tracing the valley between Mina’s abs again, and resumed the slow, rhythmic grind of her hips. This time, she didn't care who saw. She felt Mina’s hands slide down to her hips, guiding her, keeping her steady.

The Austin concert had been loud, bright, and exhausting. But here, in the dim light of the dressing room, with the scent of pizza in the air and her members laughing just a few feet away, Chaeyoung felt perfectly centered. She was right where she belonged—wrapped around Mina, fueled by the quiet power of the woman beneath her, lost in the simple, addictive heat of being close.

"Stay like this?" Chaeyoung whispered as the adrenaline finally began to fade into a cozy, sleepy warmth.

Mina kissed the top of her head, her fingers tracing patterns on Chaeyoung’s lower back. "As long as you want, Strawberry."