Sweetest

For most, Friday nights meant partying. Bad decisions that'll wash over by Monday. Breaking off the shackles of humanity to get more wasted than humanly possible. For Eunchae and Kyujin, Friday nights are for breaking out their favorite fluffy blanket—the one with the big wolf on it—and snuggling up on Eunchae's balcony underneath an audience of stars. Every Friday without fail, exactly in their assigned spots: Kyujin, the big spoon, and Eunchae, the little one.

Kyujin snuggles closer, nose pressed against the neck of her lover. "Did you get a new perfume?" Her soft voice sends tingles down Eunchae's spine.

"Nah," she responds. "I did get a new shampoo though. The grocery story ran out of what I usually get."

Kyujin takes another whiff. "It's nice. Strawberry?"

Eunchae nods, her brown hair tickling Kyujin's cheek. Another deep inhale, and all of a sudden, strawberries are all Kyujin can think about. Strawberry smoothies, bagels smothered with cream cheese and strawberry jam, those healthy cereals her mother buys with all those dried strawberry pieces. She couldn't get enough of it.

"Do you like it that much?" Eunchae giggles. "I'll buy it for you next time I go grocery shopping."

"No, no, it's just—"She sniffs right on her scalp"—it's just nice. I can't explain it."

"What shampoo do you use?" Eunchae shifts in her arms, and all of a sudden finds herself counting each individual eyelash lining the top of her cat-like eyes (She got to 10 before losing count).

"I don't know," Kyujin whispers into the narrowing space,"it changes every few weeks."

"It's nice," she guesses. It's hard to focus when her eyes are on those soft lips. Every week, Eunchae makes an effort to try and memorize each crease on them. Long, short, short, that one's a bit longer than the first, and she loses track all over again as the thumping in her ears persists. With legs tangled and arms enclosed, the interior of their shared wolf blanket feels like a sauna, both girls trying to outlast the other in the growing heat.

"My tummy feels funny," Eunchae admits. In response, Kyujin runs her hand underneath her shirt like it's a physical issue she can solve, feeling the way Eunchae tenses under her palm.

"Feels fine to me."

"You're stupid," she says, but her face is all smiles as Kyujin goes higher, higher, dragging against the gentle divots of her abs, and stopping at the hem of her sports bra. "Can't even figure out what shampoo to buy."

"What's wrong with a little exploration?" She teases her nail along the elastic, snapping it gently against Eunchae's skin.

"Nothing, really." Eunchae shifts closer, pulling Kyujin's thigh to her waist. "Are we still talking about shampoo?"

"A subject change would be nice." A soft press against her lips later and strawberries are on Kyujin's mind again. "Strawberry lip gloss?"

"That was a coincidence," Eunchae chuckles. "Do you like it?"

"Hmm, I should try it again just to be sure."

The air fills with the pucker of sticky lips and hushed giggles. Kyujin pulls close, and Eunchae lets her, lost in the headiness of being touched in ways only she would know. Beyond this balcony is nothing; irrelevant. Everything they need is right here, underneath the blanket with the wolf on it.

Eunchae whines. "You're gonna make me wake the neighbors again."

Kyujin has her chest pressed against her lover's back, hand trailing down to the waistband of her sweats. "Don't blame me because you can't keep your mouth shut."

"I'm the one that has to deal with them when you leave." Despite her protests, Eunchae spreads her legs, craving sweet release after such a long week. Another whimper escapes her lips as Kyujin invades her most intimate area with her delicate fingers.

She knows exactly what makes Eunchae tick: the sensitivity of her nipples, the speed she likes to be fucked silly, down to the crescendo of her moans as she approaches her climax. Kyujin gets drunk on the scent of strawberries, hands moving with a mind of their own on the body she's loved a thousand times before. All Eunchae can do is submit to the constant stream of dopamine.

"Shit, fuck," she slurs, vocabulary dumbed down to the essentials. She presses back into Kyujin, desperate to be touched, to be loved, to be fucked by her expert fingers. "God, you're so good…"

"I know," Kyujin smirks. If nothing, she takes immense pride in being able to see her like this—like putty in her hands, undone in all the best ways.

Eunchae turns her head. "Kiss me, please, I—" Her lips are claimed in an instant, moans suffocated by Kyujin's tongue. Against the whistling winds, all that can be heard is the hot stickiness of Eunchae's cunt, barely muffled by the blanket. The melody of their lovemaking is a secret only meant for them; whatever the neighbors argue is up for speculation.

Kyujin slows her pumping, down to occasional swipes against her lover's sweet spot. "I'm fucking starving for you," she huffs, trailing kisses on her throat, down to her soft breasts, lower still until she's hidden under the blanket.

Before Eunchae can even complain about the loss of Kyujin's fingers, her sweats are pulled to her ankles, and a tongue slides up her soaked thighs.

"Oh fuck, Kyujin," she moans, barely keeping it together. Without a kiss to keep her silent, she cups a hand over her mouth; it's all for naught as a flick of Kyujin's tongue against her clit turns her into a siren. Her poor neighbors.

Eunchae's words dissolve into vague grunts of "fuck", "yes", and "right there", her voice climbing up the register to that note Kyujin likes. She eats up her girlfriend's pretty heat, chasing that sound that lets her know she's done a good job, ready to drink up every last drop of her honey.

And Eunchae is gone; lost in a strawberry-scented bliss; another eventful Friday ends.