Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
KAI
Soundcheck feels different now that I’ve faced my feelings.
The arena is dim, the stage lit only by work lights. Our voices echo off the empty seats as we set up. Michael is cracking jokes, Min-ho is focused and precise as always, but my attention keeps drifting to Luca.
I’ve finally let myself admit it.
I’m obsessed with him.
I have been for longer than I want to admit. The way his platinum hair falls across his forehead when he’s sweating. The low rasp in his voice when he sings the lower harmonies. And how his eyes look when he’s lost in the music. They look exactly how I feel when I get that way.
I’ve wanted him this whole time.
Even when I told myself I hated him, and when I snapped at him for being late, especially when I built every wall I could, I was already gone for him.
We move into the opener. The new choreography Harry sent over is waiting. I step into position, ready to do what it says.
Luca stops me.
His hand catches my wrist before I can reach for his neck. He shakes his head once, firm.
“Not doing that anymore,” he says.
I blink, confused. A sharp little sting of hurt flickers in my chest. Did I do something wrong? Is he still angry from the Bahamas? From the plane?
Before I can ask, Luca turns to the others.
“We need a few minutes,” he tells Michael and Min-ho. “Keep running the opener without us.”
Michael raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. Min-ho just nods quietly.
Luca grabs my hand and tugs me off stage, leading me through the wings and into the green room. He pulls me into the small changing area off to the side and shuts the door behind us, giving us privacy.
The second the door clicks shut, he lets go of my hand but stays close.
“I called Harry,” he says without preamble. “Told him I’m done with the fake shit. The scripted moves, the forced fan-service, all of it. I said he can shove the contract and replace me if he wants.”
I stare at him, shocked.
“You… what?”
Luca shrugs, but there’s tension in his shoulders. “I’m tired of letting them turn whatever this is into content. If they want chemistry, they can have what’s real. I’m not performing porn for the cameras anymore.”
My stomach drops. The idea of Luca leaving the band, of him actually walking away, hits harder than I expected.
“I don’t want him to replace you,” I say quickly. “I don’t want you gone.”
Luca’s mouth curves into a slow, teasing smirk. The cocky grin I used to hate curving his lips.
“Oh?” he says, stepping closer. “So you want to keep my spoiled ass around now? After all the times you called me a liability?”
I feel heat rush to my face. The hurt from a moment ago fades, replaced by something warmer, more familiar.
“Shut up,” I mutter.
Before he can say anything else, I grab the front of his hoodie and pull him into a kiss. Our lips slid together, and my stomach flips with butterflies. Will they ever go away? I hope not.
Luca makes a low sound against my mouth and kisses me back, one hand sliding to the back of my neck, the other settling at my waist. When we break apart, we’re both breathing harder.
He rests his forehead against mine, the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.
“You sure you want to keep me?” he asks, voice low. “Nepo-baby and all?”
I huff a quiet laugh and kiss him again, shorter this time.
“Shut up,” I repeat against his mouth. “I want you. All of you.”
“Say it again,” he demands, nipping at the corner of my mouth.
“Shut up,” I laugh.
“No, the other part.”
“I want you. All of you.”
The words barely leave my lips before Luca’s expression shifts. The smirk fades into something darker, hungrier. He grabs my hips, and I push forward, backing him against the wall with a solid thud.
Our mouths crash together again, passionate and needy, no more teasing. My hands slide under his hoodie, palms pressing against warm skin as I grind against him. Luca groans into the kiss, hips rolling up to meet mine, the friction between us immediate and electric.
We move together, with urgent and hungry rolls that makes heat pool low in my stomach. His fingers dig into my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel how much he wants me, how hard he already is, and it makes my head spin.
I bite his lower lip, sucking it into my mouth, and Luca curses softly against me, hips jerking up sharply.
“Fuck, Kai—”
We’re losing ourselves in it, grinding harder, breaths coming fast and ragged, when a sharp knock sounds on the door.
“Five minutes!” Tasha’s voice cuts through. “Whatever you two are doing in there, wrap it up. We have a soundcheck to run.”
We freeze.
Luca lets out a frustrated groan and drops his head back against the wall. I rest my forehead on his shoulder, trying to catch my breath.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Luca chuckles. “The show must go on.”
We pull apart reluctantly. I straighten my shirt while Luca adjusts his hoodie, both of us still breathing hard. Our eyes meet for a second, heat still simmering between us.
He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead, the touch surprisingly gentle after how frantic we just were.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go do the soundcheck. The real version.”
I nod, a smile tugging at my lips.
We step back out onto the stage together, trying to look composed. Michael raises an eyebrow at us but doesn’t say anything. Min-ho just gives a tiny, knowing smile before looking away.
Tasha eyes us both suspiciously but doesn’t comment.
We take our positions on stage. The music starts, filling the space. We still follow some of the choreography, but anything physical is new, and they are more teasing touches. Things that make me so horny I can’t wait for the soundcheck and show to be over.
Luca stays close during the verses, his shoulder brushing mine on every downbeat.
During the pre-chorus he steps in behind me, chest almost touching my back as he sings the harmony right next to my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
His hand ghosts along my side, a light drag of fingertips over my shirt that makes my stomach tighten.
In the bridge, he turns me toward him, fingers hooking briefly into the front of my shirt to pull me closer for the shared line. His thumb presses against my lower stomach for half a second, right above my waistband, before he lets go. The touch is quick, but it sends heat rushing straight down.
Later, during the build to the chorus, he slides behind me again. This time his hips brush my ass as he leans in to share my mic, his hand resting low on my hip for two full beats—possessive and teasing, gone before anyone can really notice. My cock twitches hard in my jeans.
The worst (best) part comes right before the final drop.
Luca steps in front of me, facing the empty arena, and reaches back to grab my hand.
He pulls it forward and places it flat against his stomach.
His fingers press mine there for a moment, holding them against his warm skin while he sings.
I can feel the muscle flex under my palm every time he breathes.
I’m painfully hard by the time the last note fades.
Every teasing touch lingers. My body is buzzing, skin too tight, cock straining against my zipper. I can barely focus on the notes anymore. All I can think about is dragging him back into that changing room, shoving him against the wall again, and finishing what we started earlier.
Luca glances over at me as the music cuts out, eyes dark and knowing. The corner of his mouth lifts in the tiniest smirk.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
And he’s enjoying every second of it.
Tasha calls for notes from the sound booth, but I barely hear her. All I can focus on is Luca standing a few feet away, sweat already glistening on his skin, looking far too pleased with himself.
Soundcheck can’t end fast enough. I need this night to be over. Because the second we’re alone again, I’m not letting him tease me anymore.
I’m going to make him pay for every single touch.