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Balance

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Fei is the steadiest person on her feet that Min knows. It doesn't matter whether they're in front of or behind the cameras, onstage or off. Even when she's right next to Min so Min can make sure their hands brush on the runway, she's tall and poised and perfect. She remains that way, regardless of all Min's attempts to ruffle her.

Twenty minutes from now, the innocent bystander will have no clue that right now Min's got her pushed her against the wall of the nearest bathroom, slicking her hands up Fei's bare legs. The way Fei parts her thighs and unzips the bottom of her dress before Min can even tell her to--that's something just for Min. Min loves the way she tilts her head back and shifts her hips down like she does this all the time--and, okay, maybe they've done this a few times too often to be embarrassed, but it's still so novel that Min forgets to be jaded. Fei just letting Min slide her panties to the side like she can have access whenever she wants--god, what that does to her; her tongue parting Fei's wet lips and lapping her up, feeling her clit plump and hot and raw against her mouth--it never, ever gets old. She could do this for hours, she thinks. She could do this for always.

But mostly she wants to do this until Fei loses her balance, til her shoulders tighten and she arches and her knees threaten to give way and she has to clench her hand in Min's hair for support, and her deadly-sharp fingernails dig in to Min's scalp just enough to smart, enough to make Min tear her mouth away from Fei's pussy, an awkward reflex move that gets the icky metallic tang of Fei's zipper caught on her tongue instead of the slippery salt taste of Fei herself. And that won't do at all, so Min ignores Fei's gasp of disappointment and stands up, tugging her belt open and sliding the zipper all the way up the front of Fei's dress until she's pressed between the wall and Min, her nipples hard where they rub against Min's own. Fei's mouth parts for her and she moans into the kiss, tugging one of Min's hands down from where they're trying their best to ruin Fei's hair (never happens) and sliding her knuckle-deep inside her. She knows just how to ride Min like this, steady and hard, and fuck, they're getting really good at this, Min thinks, so good no one even bats an eye any more when they come out of the ladies' room together looking flustered, because it's press junkets and interviews and hard hotel mattresses and flashbulbs and black coffee to get them through devilishly early call times, but always, too, it's the constant flash of joy on Fei's face when she dances and the way she knows just how to summon Min to her when they have an unexpected five minutes alone, and the way five minutes can keep them high for hours at a time, five minutes or ten or twenty or whatever Fei will give her, any time, every time--

"God, oh, shit, you're so--I--" Fei manages, and then she comes on a half-cry stifled by Min's fingers against her lips and her mouth against Fei's throat, eyes closed and panting and letting her rock down hard against Min's hand as Min scissors and opens her up again and again, feeling her wet and heavy and warm and undone, just the way Min has always loved her best.

She keeps her lips where they are, brushing her collarbone. Fei smells like Chanel and sweat and come. Min is addicted. She slips her free arm around Fei's bare waist, smiling when Fei sags against her a little, breathing hard, coming down from the ride.

"So you do get undone a little," she says, giggling a little against Fei's throat.

Fei tries for a look of disdain but she fails utterly, probably because Min is taking her sweet time removing her hand, and she knows Fei likes it that way. Her lipstick is smudged and half-off, probably all over Min's cheek. A faint sheen of sweat lines her forehead and her temples, but she still looks perfect.

"Easy for you to say," she says, reaching over Min's shoulder for a towel. "Look at you." She holds one of the towels out to Min, who reluctantly untangles herself and accepts it. "I'm practically naked and you're still a hundred percent put-together."

Min thinks about that while they scrub off, splashing water over their faces and re-applying their makeup. She's right about her own lips being stained pink from Fei's lipstick. She likes it that way. A little gloss and she's done.

She watches Fei's hair fall back into place, perfectly trained like everything else about her. Her mouth settles into a pout while she does her lipstick. Primer, first coat, liner, second coat, gloss, purse, press. She puts her lipstick away and then looks over at Min, as if she's waiting on Min's rebuttal.

Min grins at her. "I'm only put-together on the outside," she said. "You're that way all-over."

Fei raises an eyebrow and slips her belt back around her waist. She leaves the zipper of her dress open a few inches from the bottom. Maybe even a bit higher than before. Min tries not to stare at the curve of her legs disappearing beneath her skirt, and fails.

"Not when I'm around you," Fei says.

"Good," says Min. "I like it that way, don't change."

Fei purses her lips, so red Min wants to kiss them all over again. "I won't if you won't," she says softly.

Min grabs Fei's hand, links their fingers together. Fei's eyebrow shoots up even higher. "Even though I'm too put-together?" Min asks her, trying for teasing, but maybe just a little breathless.

Fei laughs. "Please," she says, tugging Min sharply towards the door, towards the mass of cameras and fans on the other side. "I know exactly how to keep you off-balance."