Stay Sweet Ch. 01

"You got it." I walked into the den, plugged the SOL into the USB, switched the TV's input, and flipped through the file browser until I landed on Radical Jack.

"God, I feel like I'm a teenager again," said Ji-yeong from behind me, back in her cotton candy shirt and sheep-print pajama pants, hair down once more, carrying our Cookie Dough Blizzards from the fridge. She looked me over once more, and added "Except I'm clearly not babysitting you." And she laughed, and I laughed, and I quickly turned back to the TV and pretended to still be looking for the file so she couldn't see me blush.

After a few seconds of fiddling, I turned back to Ji-yeong and set it up for her. "Okay, so just for the record, I like MST3K more," I told her. "That's not to say Mike, Kevin, and Bill lost the zip on their fastballs, just that something gets lost when it's just three funny dudes cracking wise at a movie, and there's no shadowrama, or sketches, or whatever."

"Mmm. I can see that."

"You'll like it, though," I assured her, hitting "play" on the Radical Jack file. "The riffs are still great, and the movies they find are pretty ridiculous, so...yeah." I plopped down next to Ji-yeong on the couch and took my first spoonful of Blizzard in perfect sync with her own.

You know what? It really was just like old times, with me and Ji-yeong eating ice cream and laughing at cheesy movies in the same old den we used to. Hearing her crack up at the riffs seemed to fully erase any remaining hard feelings over her behavior just before she left, and the distance that built up in the seven-year gap that followed. I even had the urge to scoot in closer and rest my head in her lap like I used to do sometimes—an urge I resisted, since that would have meant something completely different than it did back then.

Still, it was nice for the ten minutes it lasted.

When we meet the love interest in Radical Jack (played by Deedee Pfeiffer—yeah, that Pfeiffer), she's trying to break up with a smug douchebag who's giving off all sorts of "evil" vibes. I had a bad feeling; when I looked over at Ji-yeong, she was squeezing the cup that her Blizzard was in, pushing the ice cream just above the rim. Still I let it run, oblivious to the good-natured jokes the guys were cracking about the scene, praying that it would somehow turn out differently.

The second Douchey-Looking Guy grabbed Love Interest by the shoulder and roughly spun her around, I grabbed the remote and backed out of the movie.

I didn't do or say anything immediately after that; neither did Ji-yeong. I couldn't begin to imagine the horror that was going through her head, and I spent the next dozen or so excruciating seconds trying to figure out how to recover.

I decided to just move on. No preamble, no apology, no rubbing our faces in what we were just reminded of. "You know, they also did this really creepy Christmas movie called Fun in Balloonland. It's not really in season, but I'd actually put it up there with MST3K's—"

"Why would you do that?"

I took a quiet, shallow breath. "I wasn't thinking," I said, looking away from her in shame. "I didn't think we'd see...what we saw for some reason, and I really should've just—"

"I mean, why would you turn it off?"

Now I looked at her. She had set her bent Blizzard cup down on the coffee table, and she had this look in her eye that was a volatile mix of anger, confusion, pain, and delusion.

She doesn't want to feel like a burden.

Shit.

"I just didn't think we should be watching..."

"Watching what?" Ji-yeong was actually laughing a bit now, which I'm sure she thought was disarming but was actually unnerving as hell. "What, you think just because Chad slapped me around a little that I can't handle watching other women get slapped around in some...shitty Road House ripoff?"

Something behind my eyeballs did a backflip. Ji-yeong never swore, at least not in front of me; it was always "Oh, shoot" and "Aye yi yi" and "I goofed up." Once I remember she stubbed her toe on the coffee table and she yelped "OW, ffffffffffffffff..." like she was letting out air; that's the closest I had ever heard her come to cursing.

"Look," I told her, cautiously. "I just wanted to show you a good time tonight. I didn't want you to think about Chad at all."

"Well, I wasn't thinking about Chad! That was so far from what I went through with Chad it was actually funny! Plus, you know he's dying violently by the end of the movie, so what exactly is the problem?"

"I don't like thinking about you getting hurt like that!" My tone had snapped from apologetic to confrontational. "The problem is, you were the coolest, sweetest person I've ever known and if I stop and think too long about what that asshole did to you, I get the urge to punch something! The problem is...I'm selfish."

My voice had softened. I felt like Ji-yeong was covering her feelings and trying to seem stronger than she really was (and she'd eventually confirm as much to me later on), but I was listening to myself talk and I realized that I was trying to protect myself as much as I was trying to protect her.

I continued. "I'm sorry. Even if you can handle that shit, I just can't, not when I'm right next to you. I'd rather just try to put this behind us and switch to something else."

Ji-yeong looked at me, the gears turning visibly in her head.

She said, "Turn the movie back on."

"Ji-yeong, please—"

"No, I need to show you something for a minute, then we can watch whatever you want."

"I really don't think—"

"Just turn the fucking movie back on!"

I must have looked like I was smacked in the face—I sure felt like it—because a split second after she spit her command, her eyes bulged in shock and her body recoiled, turning away from me.

Gazing into her lap, she added a desperate, wounded "Please."

I didn't know how to say "no" to that.

The movie started from the beginning; Ji-yeong told me to go to the start of that scene, so I did. We silently let those first few seconds roll, with Smug Douchebag smugging about how he didn't want to be kept in suspense. Love Interest told him, with all the exhaustion of a fat kid on a morning jog, that she couldn't "do this" anymore.

"Pause," said Ji-yeong. I did, and she pointed at the TV. "See, that, right there—" She plastered a smile onto her face, just this side of deranged, and forced a few laughs out of her gut. "—that's how you know it's bullshit. Obviously she's been seeing this guy for longer than a few days, she's gotten to know him a bit, and if she's gotten to know him, she has to know that he's not stable, right? So why the hell would she try to break up with him face to face?

"She doesn't even have to, like, know-know. At some point, say, a few months in, she might have done something that he wasn't fond of, and he didn't get violent, but maybe he was a little too upset. But he tried to play it off as a joke, or he came in fast and hard with an apology, and maybe it still felt off, but she thought 'You know, he really is a decent guy, I can overlook this.'

"And that's how it happens: You just keep overlooking more and more as things get harder and harder. You watch life just pile onto him, you watch his dreams collapse, you watch him slowly grind himself to a nub in a job that was only supposed to be temporary. And he keeps taking it out on you, and you think 'Let him work through this, just try to stay out of his way and everything will be fine eventually.' Meanwhile you're telling the Urgent Care doctor that your best friend broke your nose after catching you with her husband, because you'd rather be seen as a homewrecking slut than get your husband thrown in jail."

Not that you care, but Love Interest was Smug Douchebag's mistress, not his wife. Yeah, we were long past the movie at this point; Ji-yeong's tone of voice was getting rougher, the pace of her words was picking up.

"In fact, true story," she continued, laughing nigh-manically, dropping all pretense of this being a hypothetical situation. "My original plan was to say I was mugged! Because you don't want to say it was an accident, you might as well just hang a big 'Call the cops' sign around your neck. But just as the doctor comes in, I realize that getting mugged means having to file a police report, so I cooked up that story on the spot, AND I managed to pocket my wedding ring without the doctor noticing. And at no point was I thinking 'Maybe the fact that I can't tell the doctor I got a jar of tomato sauce chucked at my head because I bought the wrong kind is a sign that this isn't healthy.' No! Like an IDIOT, I actually took pride in the fact that I fooled him!"

Ji-yeong's voice was strained, like she was pushing up against an emotional membrane that was on the verge of giving way. I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, to let her know I was there, but she pulled away, then shot to her feet and started pacing.

"Because that's how your sick fucking brain works in a relationship like that, Pete! You're not 'a prisoner.' You're not 'a victim.' You are HIS WIFE! It's you and him against the world! Nobody understands you two like you understand each other! So what if he hits you sometimes? So what if he yells a lot and calls you names? So what if you gave up everything for him, if you...if you alienated the people who cared about you the most?" She was looking right at me on that last bit. "You don't...you don't..."

She clutched her head, smacked her head, smacked it again, trying to shake loose the whole point of her rant from her brain, and she looked like she wanted to just fucking scream, and that was all I could stand. I stood up, walked over, brought her tight into my arms, and she finally fell apart.

I'd never heard sobbing like this; it was primal, ugly, almost violent. I could feel her literally collapse against me, her legs apparently unable to support her, shaking and screaming like her internal organs were being shredded. I stroked her back gently and she wailed painfully into my shoulder, and I just kept telling her to let it out because it was all I knew to say.

What would you say to any of that?

"I'm sorry," she finally calmed down just barely enough to blurt out in strained sobs. "I'm sorry," she repeated, kept repeating, and I kept telling her to just let it go, to not worry about me right now.

When she calmed down a little more, she said, still sobbing, "I ruined our whole night."

"I really couldn't care less," I assured her.

"I don't even remember what I was trying to say," she cried.

I went back over her words, over her complaint, and remembered. "I think you were saying that if you're planning to leave your abusive partner, you don't tell him point blank like Michelle Pfeiffer's useless sister does in the movie." Ji-yeong laughed in the middle of her sob, nodding.

Somehow we found ourselves on the couch in thunderstorm position, this time with me cradling Ji-yeong from behind. I couldn't really feel her heartbeat like she used to feel mine, but I didn't care. I just wished I could find the right combination of words that would help her put that prick behind her, help her rebuild everything. I was so sure they had to exist.

After about ten minutes like this, ten minutes of me failing to rescue her, I heard Ji-yeong mutter my name. Her tone was subdued; calm now, clearly exhausted. "I think I'm about to crash."

"Okay," I told her.

"You can go to bed if you want. I'm fine now. Really."

"Okay," I told her again, not moving. I may not have known what great wisdom I could drop on her to make her feel better, but I sure as hell wasn't leaving her alone tonight.

"I mean, it feels really nice, but you shouldn't have to."

"Okay," I said once more.

Finally getting the message, she murmured "Stay sweet, Pete," and then drifted off. I kissed her on her temple, and followed her into slumber.

* * * * *

Now, I might know what you're thinking. My guess is, you believe there were no right words to say. That it was enough for me to just be there, and that sometimes all you can do for somebody is to listen, to take in all their pain for them, to be a rock. Good points, one and all. Or maybe you think I was wrong somehow. I don't know how you think I was wrong, but this was a heavy situation that I wasn't prepared for; I'm willing to accept that I fucked my handling of it in some subtle, profound way, especially considering what happened next.

See, as nice as it is to feel like a hero in any situation, when it comes to whatever I did for Ji-yeong, I honestly try to avoid such labels. I was there for her. That shouldn't entitle me to anything, not even the satisfaction of knowing I was somehow "the guy," you know? In fact, it was Ji-yeong who had to do the hard work for herself. I didn't know the details of how she had left Chad at that point, but even getting herself out of the situation she described to me that night would have...well, that'll come up later. The point is, Ji-yeong was my hero; I just wanted to help her in any way I could.

So please understand my profound and total embarrassment when I woke up around 5:30 with a slightly sore back, a dry mouth, and the worst case of morning wood I've ever had in my life wedged between my hero's clothed buttcheeks.

I don't know if you realize this, but a massive erection—and I mean MASSIVE, like, I could feel the muscle straining against its allegedly durable flesh casing—tucked into the ass of the woman who cried herself to sleep in your arms sent, uh, conflicting messages. All I could think to do was thank God she was asleep, and slowly, carefully, wiggle—Don't wiggle your boner against her, you fucking idiot, INCH—inch my hips away from

"Such a gentleman," Ji-yeong suddenly purred while I was moving away from her, and I could swear my world went white for a second while I briefly died of humiliation.

I wanted to sit up and leave her alone; no sense in hiding since the jig was up and all. But I was still a little too tired, and Ji-yeong's hand remained on top of my own despite her presumed offense, so I settled for scooting my hips away from her more roughly. "I am so, so, so sorry," I said. Somehow, it never occurred to me that I should take my hands off Ji-yeong as well.

"It's fine, Pete, really." It didn't occur to her, either.

"It's really not," I insisted. "I don't want you to think—"

"I don't," Ji-yeong insisted back. "I think you're a good guy who happens to still have a bit of a crush on me, and when you spent all night snuggling me, the...inevitable happened."

"I don't have a crush on you," I wished I didn't stammer.

"That thing that was growing against me earlier says otherwise." There was a lilt in her voice that suggested she was smiling, so at least that was WAIT NO.

"Seriously, you're like my big sister!" I was hoping that would defuse the situation.

"Yeah," she teased. "Your hot big sister. Of a completely different race." I had not defused the situation.

"Okay, seriously, please stop," I finally just said, though considering that I was still holding onto her, not all of me agreed with it. "I don't like where this is going."

"...Sorry," Ji-yeong winced, squeezing my hand. "Chad—I don't mean to play this as a card, but Chad had a way of making me feel like he was the only guy who'd ever find me attractive. So feeling somebody else get erect for me is kind of a big deal."

"Oh." Wow.

"No, I mean, it's wrong of me to make you uncomfortable like that. Don't feel bad about telling me to stop. I just, you know, wanted to explain."

After a few moments to let the words sink in, I asked, "Is that why you stayed with him? Because you didn't think you could find anyone else?"

"Maybe," said Ji-yeong. "Mostly I felt...Chad had his good points, you know? It sounds crazy, but he could actually be really sweet. When we were dating, he bought me this amazing necklace one day just because he knew it would look great on me. It wasn't a special day, it was just...because. Nobody ever treated me like that before."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Hey, I'm the one who should be sorry. I teased you."

"No, not about...that," I said, "about...well, I'm just sorry."

More silence. Slightly more comfortable this time.

"Geez, we really should just get up," said Ji-yeong, "but I can't move. Can you?"

I tried to will myself to move, but ether I was too tired or this felt too nice even with the shameful boner. "Too tired," I opted to tell her.

"So am I," she said, though she sounded as unsure of herself as I must have. "You know, it's probably more awkward to have your hips pushed out right now. I mean, I know what's going on, and if we're gonna stay on this couch...and I kinda like the feeling anyway...maybe you should just own it."

I had absolutely no idea what to say to that. The obvious answer popped into my head first, and I tried to think of any other excuse that would gently let her down, but nothing was coming to mind and she was waiting for an answer, and finally I just admitted, "Ji-yeong, if I push back up against you...I don't think I could stop there."

There was another long silence from Ji-yeong.

She said, "Maybe I don't want you to stop there."

...

...

...I mean, I took some comfort in the thought that maybe she struggled with this as much as I did, but otherwise...holy fucking shit.

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me," she said, turning her head back to face me. "At least, I'd be taking just as much advantage of you."

"Ji-yeong—"

"Pete, you have no idea how horny I am right now." Nothing about this sounded playful; Ji-yeong was speaking as a matter of fact. "I've been...look, it's been really tough, and you've been really great, but this isn't about that. This would be more like...scratching each other's backs."

The first light of the early sun had started to shine through the windows, giving the room a warm glow that bathed our entwined bodies, making my friend look even more beautiful. I wanted to resist. I wanted to be the good guy.

"I don't have condoms," I quickly said. "I mean, even if this wasn't already the worst idea ever, there's also that."

"Well, I'm sure you don't have any STDs," said Ji-yeong. "And anyway, I can't get pregnant."

"Seriously?"

"That was an awesome day when the OB/GYN told us," she mused, turning away from me. "Then again, maybe it was for the best."

Jesus fuck. How many other ways was life planning to shit on this girl? I just wanted to give Ji-yeong an even bigger hug than I was already giving her, but I couldn't...

"Just, where could it possibly go from here that isn't super uncomfortable?" I asked.

"I don't know," she admitted.

I didn't want to...

"Remember when you were 11 and you asked me to marry you?" Ji-yeong asked.

Fuck!

"You remember what I said to you?" she followed up.

"That marriage was a lot more complicated than I thought it was?"

"Yeah, that," she said. "But I also said I'd be really lucky if I married somebody like you. Someone kind, smart, fun. I'm not saying I should've waited for you. I mean, you were a kid, I wasn't thinking of you like that at all back then. I guess I just keep asking myself why I didn't take my own advice."

I wanted her to feel loved, but...

"You know, every time I think of that I feel silly," I said.

"You shouldn't, Pete." Ji-yeong turned back to me. "It was so...you." She was smiling, and in the fresh light of morning she looked so sweet and warm...

My lips crashed against hers; she parted them, allowing our tongues to slide into each other's mouths. My hand slipped up to her cheek, holding her head in place as we kissed, while my hips pushed back against Ji-yeong's backside, eliciting a sigh of relief when she felt my hardness once more. Our tongues swished back and forth, round and round against each other, I began to grind against Ji-yeong's body, and with each pump, each swish, my hand worked further and further away from her cheek and toward her breast until my fingertips cupped its heavenly weight over her sleep shirt.