disavow

“Let me get this straight: you slept with Momo?!?!?!” 

(Okay, that’s one way to get a conversation going if you were in Dahyun’s shoes.)

“I’m not gonna ask a second time. Answer the goddamn question.” 

It already feels wrong to have comitted such an action, and even worse to say it. Most of the day has been pretty shitty as it is.

Dahyun’s had a rough day at work when a bunch of things didn’t go her way. Just one unfortunate instance onto the next: woke up late, missing a few makeup supplies, late to work because of a stupid ticket, and didn’t even get to reshoot the one scene for her role because the director apparently ‘forgot’. She really was just sitting in her trailer till she felt like dying. 

As for your case. You had a long day too. So, you slept. Just- not in the way neither you or Momo had suspected. It’s not her fault she flaunted a body too tempting for the average man to resist, especially with that mouth of hers. You had to shut her up, and it’s somewhat safe to say that this was a tipping point of what was happening in the workplace leading up to the incident. 

You’re setting the record straight, even if the lines are beginning to be scribbled lazily. Dahyun’s gaze remains unfazed while you’re trying to down as much wine as possible and she just told you that you’ve slept with one of your coworkers plus her best friend and you’re not sure how much worse this ultimatum could get. 

Clearing your throat, sighing. Because the day can’t get any shitter. “You- didn’t even give me a chance to speak?” 

“Which is why I’m letting you speak now.”

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?!” 

“A big deal? Christ- do you hear yourself? With Momo?!” Dahyun raises her voice in agitation. You couldn’t have seen that coming. Scratch that: you definitely should’ve seen it coming. 

Did you even think of what was gonna happen? Fuck no. 

You and Momo are equally blamed for that. 

Recalling the memory of Sana’s party, you remember seeing Momo in that strapless red dress, hot off the sewing machines showcased from the Met Gala, and Chaeyoung herself was even appalled at the appearance. Dahyun also was in agreement, unfailing to look away because she would’ve asked how your reaction would’ve been if she was sheathed in red. And the way Momo strutted her way to you two felt right out of a movie where all the girls are working towards stealing something valuable later. 

(In a slight retrospect, yeah. You’ve seen the signs before.) 

“Well, aren’t you gonna explain to me why?” Dahyun demands, and you’re wishing the wine was a whiskey instead. This kind of conversation was not one to be done sober. 

“What do you want me to say!” You’re exclaiming, a mere move of the arm not tantamount to what you’ve done. “It’s not my fault that she’s equally all over me as you!” 

And Dahyun, of all people, knows this. You and her are both sides of the same coin when it comes to Momo being the sole catalyst. Not since you’ve walked in on them accidentally while visiting their dance practice and that was the fastest one-eighty you did ever in your life. Or when Momo pulled you off to the side in some bar and made you forget about the belt left in the bathroom when everything’s all said and done. Or- the time they made you feel like a hotshot when they both visited your office and that was the talking point in the break room for freaking months. 

You can sense the rage boiling in Dahyun, so much of it you can actually smell. Steaming off her pale skin in these rare occasions to where it turns into wanting to fuck someone into the sheets. You feel it. It’s hot when Dahyun gets like this, and you want it. The same could be said for Momo when she makes you wanna pop a blood vessel. Depending on the circumstance, and the girl, it varies from moment to moment. 

While you can sense the blistering warmth enveloping the room, your hands grip the obsidian countertop to cool your nerves. If you wanted to make the hard choice - and you really, really wished you didn’t - it’s Dahyun. You want the girl who’s been at your side since college but can’t say a word without getting a slap on your arm or pinch of the ear, who willingly gives you a few extra napkins while eating out because she could never finish her meal and doesn’t say much to be annoying in order to get a rise or even when her other friends tease you and she can’t do much to protect either you or herself. Some days her face lights up when she walks out of the office and sees you waiting on the second step leaning on the railing and you look at her at the other corner of the room and wonder how she’d handle your cock. There’s also the fact she would taste so much better than the wine, a fine course once indulging in the appetizers.

Momo, in some corner of the world is probably thinking of this moment and watching with her palms rubbed together, devilishly smiling. Dahyun still can’t believe that you went to Momo. You had a sliver of interest to her friend as much as she did (again, another topic to be saved for another day, but if Dahyun’s pulling your finger, Momo’s doing the exact same thing too) but she’s funny and chaotic and if you really look into it - where you’ve done time and time before - then Momo’s in it for the fun at ripping the seams and leaving no care for the damages she leaves behind. Nayeon or Sana, whoever can get to Momo first, this girl is a problem. 

“The fuck you say?”

You inhale deep, lighten your fingers off the edge. It didn’t occur to you what was said just now. “She wants me. Momo wants me, Dahyun. Simple as that. No strings attached.” 

Dahyun huffs, toying the ends of her hair. She stares at you sliding the glass further and further away, unbuttoning the ends of your sleeves and you’re beginning to think of the limitless ideas running through her head of how to get your hands tied to her imagination. “Knowing her, I get the fact she’s-” her fingers are in two’s, making quotations, “-a literal sex tornado.” 

That should be it. The end of the conversation right there. You and Momo fucked, end of story. Your mind isn’t helping in playing back the memory: eye fucking Momo a week prior, flash forward a few days after, winding up in Momo’s place and focusing on the heat, her finger, that fucking pussy; the messy bangs when you’re holding her head close to yours and her lips next to your ear. Dahyun wished that was her, cumming on your cock instead of Momo. Your wife, who’s within an arm’s reach of the assortment of knives, looks at you as you think about Dahyun (or Momo) cumming. The idea of her killing you is a fast way to finish this ordeal. 

“I-” Your tongue freezes between the words. “Not arguing with that statement, actually.” 

Dahyun laughs, out of pure disbelief, walks her way towards you. Taking the bottle of wine and setting it next to the fridge. “If we’re going to be transparent with each other, no one else is going to get you fucked in the way that I do.” 

Clenching your teeth was way much worse than her not grabbing the knife and charging at you. “Momo knows it was a one time thing. It was always gonna be a one time thing.” 

“And it should always be me.” Dahyun says. Rolling her eyes with a disgusted crunch on her face 

You could see her hand ball up in a fist. Both of your feet remain unmoved and the air hitting your neck comes in tiny pricks. 

“Though,” her voice dejected, “seems like one of us has forgotten that.” 

You lick your teeth, bite your lip.

“Care to elaborate?” 

She looks up, tilts her head one side and to the opposite, shifts her gaze to the empty wine glass, seeing you in her peripheral. “I’m not gonna explain myself here.” 

“Why not?” 

Her shoulders tense and relax. “No matter who you talk to, whether it’s my friends crushing hard on you or after a long terrible day, I should be the one at the end of it.” Dahyun’s voice becomes increasingly agitated. 

“It’s always you. Always.” 

“Is that what you think? Have we not done everything to convince ourselves that?” Her hand lightly slaps the countertop, the wisps in her hair falling to the front of her face. “I’m not the one who’s forgotten our commitments.” 

Your head starts to spin, heart pounding at an immeasurable rate. “You’re right. I have.” 

Dahyun runs a hand down her face, then her neck. She would have these instances under stress, doing everything she can to micromanage herself and not have the other person take notice because: she’s not the kind of girl you’d want to piss off. 

Some people- coworkers or co-stars - if you will, were very attentive at how Dahyun operated on and off the clock, watching her do these roles and have a guy or girl you don’t even know much about have their care when you know it isn’t the case when she’s behind closed doors with you. 

You start to feel uneasy, rubbing your palm across your leg, and when Dahyun crosses her arms as you’re slotting yourself behind. She looks over her shoulder, the slight tension of muscle and you haven’t even put your hands on the girl yet. You’re still gauging, waiting for her to talk. “Dahyun, please,” you mumble, fingers curling her elbows, slithering them in place around her waist. 

“You-” and she sighs. “I hate when you do shit like this behind my back, especially if it’s with somebody that I’m also very close with.” 

“Momo-” 

“Momo told you to go to her.” 

“The one time. I swear.” 

“And yet you still went while I was out busy.” Dahyun’s accusation doesn’t sit on your nerves right, and your grip softens. 

“I was gonna tell you before you left. And it was gonna come off the lines as ‘Hey! I know you’re probably busy, but I need a favor. Does Dahyun mind if I borrow you for a couple hours? Maybe have a few drinks with another person, probably Jihyo, and who knows?’ She could bring a few things over and we can talk about something more interesting besides work.’ That’s how I wished it would’ve gone.” 

Dahyun laughs softly. Since you know very well that if you told her some half-assed constructed lie on the spot, she would’ve been fine with it. You’re aware of how jealous she could get without explicitly saying it and show instead. She wouldn’t have stopped you from going that day, and she’s not stopping your hand lightly clutching her breast. “Maybe a heads up from you or Momo would’ve been nice,” she huffs, leaning her head up to where the breath canvases your neck. “Now it looks like I have another thing to deal with once all of this is over with our work.” 

“She’s shown you a thing or two, why not have her do it again?” You taunt.