Lips #17 (Itzy's Yeji and Ryujin)

It’s late after their dance practice and the three of you end up back at your place. Yeji’s sprawled across the couch with you, her hair damp from her shower, while Ryujin is lounging in the armchair, her phone in her hand, bare legs tucked under her oversized hoodie. The three of you have been joking around all evening. At one point Yeji shifts against you, her hand brushing your thigh. Her lips curve into a smirk as she glances at Ryujin.

“You keep staring at him like that, Ryujin. I’m starting to think you’re curious.”

You glance at the younger of the two. Is Yeji telling the truth? You always thought Ryujin wasn’t into you. Or guys for that matter. She snorts, tossing her phone onto the coffee table.

“As if. Please. I don’t like cock, unnie. I’m a lesbian.”

She sounds more annoyed than caught.

Yeji tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly with that knowing look she always gets when Ryujin’s bluffing. Her hand squeezes your leg, her fingers brushing closer to your lap as she grins at her member.

“You sure about that?”

Ryujin rolls her eyes and leans back in the chair, arms folded tight.

“I said what I said. I’m not into guys, especially not your boyfriend.”

Yeji laughs, resting her chin on her hand as she studies her.

“Funny, because you keep bringing it up.”

“I’m just making it clear.”

She points a finger toward you.

“Don’t get any ideas, oppa. You’re not my type. At all.”

You arch a brow, caught between amusement and curiosity.

“Didn’t say I was.”

That only seems to egg her on. Ryujin leans forward, her tone serious.

“Good. Because even if you were the last guy on earth, I’d still pick a girl over you.”

She says it with a sharp little toss of her hair, but her cheeks are faintly flushed, her knee bouncing against the armchair. Yeji sees it instantly. She smirks, dragging her gaze down and then back up slowly.

“Oh, I know you, Ryujin. You talk big now, but you’ve got a tell.”

Ryujin freezes.

“A tell?”

“Mmhm.”

Yeji hums, sliding a little closer against you on the couch.

“Every time you lie, you can’t keep your eyes where they’re supposed to be.”

Ryujin scoffs, hugging her arms tighter.

“That’s bullshit. I don’t have a tell.”

Yeji grins wider, clearly enjoying herself.

“Then prove it. Look at him right now without blushing.”

Ryujin’s head snaps toward you. And then immediately away again. Her cheeks burn deeper as she scowls.

“I’m not playing this dumb game.”

Yeji’s laughter has you smiling. She squeezes your thigh once more, nails dragging lightly across the fabric.

“See? You can’t even look without your face giving you away.”

Ryujin mutters something under her breath. But Yeji doesn’t let up. She leans more heavily against you now, her hand sliding higher along your thigh. Her fingers trace absent circles that make it obvious she’s doing it on purpose. Her eyes never leave Ryujin.

“You know what I think?”

Yeji’s voice is soft, almost sing-song. She knows Ryujin hates that. When Yeji pretends to be the one on top.

“I think you’re not actually a lesbian. I think you just like saying it so you can act like you’re above it all. It makes you feel… safe.”

Ryujin bristles immediately.

“That’s not-”

She starts, but Yeji cuts her off.

“Because if you ever admitted you were curious, you’d lose the excuse. You’d have to face what you actually want.”

“I don’t want him.”

Ryujin blurts out, louder than she means to. Her eyes flick toward you again, just for a heartbeat, before darting back down to the floor. Yeji smiles knowingly, her hand sliding even higher now, dangerously close to your lap. You feel her nails graze lightly across your bulge through your sweats. It makes you twitch beneath her touch. Ryujin notices. Of course she notices. Her lips part slightly, then snap shut as she crosses her arms tighter. Yeji tilts her head at the younger one.

“Funny. You’re awfully interested for someone who ‘doesn’t want him.’”

“I’m not.”

Ryujin says quickly, her voice still sharp, her knee bouncing faster now.

“You’re making shit up.”

Yeji laughs once more, clearly enjoying herself. Her hand palms your length through the fabric in one slow, unmistakable press.

“Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to know what he feels like.”

Ryujin’s throat moves as she swallows. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. Her chin lifts stubbornly. Then she tries again.