Chapter 2
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LUX
“JUST TELL HIM!” I shout as I drag my finger across the screen of my e-reader to turn the page.
The slow burn has been burning entirely too slowly for my taste.
It was easy for me to think of myself as the main character in this one and if the love interest happened to remind me of Kija, well, maybe he did.
But I would never wait so long to make a move on the object of my affection in the situation.
It’s the end of the world, and the time they’re wasting is ridiculous. “If you’d just talk to him…”
“Who are you speaking to?” Nikko asks as he breezes into the room. His hair is messy and his eyes are bright, lips pink, which means he’s just been with Jase. As usual.
I close the cover on my tablet, knowing I won’t be able to get any more reading done if he wants to chat. And he always wants to tell me about Jase. I like listening to him, and I am happy for him, but I feel jealous more often than I want to admit. “How’s your boyfriend?”
Nikko smiles, all soft and dreamy. “Perfect.”
“Of course.” I wait for Nikko to settle on my bed and move closer to lean against him. “What’d he do now?”
“Nothing special. I just like being with him so much. We went to the night market at Hangang…”
I cut him off, looking up at him in surprise. “Isn’t that kind of reckless? Being out in public like that?”
He shrugs as much as he can with me pinning his arm down. “I don’t know, we didn’t get caught. I had on a hat and a mask and stayed off to the side of everything while he got us hotteok and milk tea. Then we went down by the river and ate. It was sweet.”
“I’m glad,” I tell him. I am, but I worry about him even as I have to push down my own desires to have the same sort of experiences. “Sounds like a date right out of a drama.”
Nikko smiles. “Yeah, it kind of was. I feel like I just got him for real, like we are actually starting something together here in Seoul, so every moment just seems big.”
“He literally quit his entire life to be with you,” I remind him. “That’s a pretty bold move. Real romantic comedy vibes. Someone should write a book about it. I’d read it.”
“You’re living it with me. You’re the sidekick that everyone likes better than the main character,” Nikko says, nudging me with his elbow.
I scoff. “Yes, everyone would like me more, but I will never be the sidekick. I radiate main character energy.”
“I can’t even argue with you there.” Nikko repositions himself a bit to give me more room to sprawl across him.
I appreciate that Nikko has always let me use him as my own personal playground, never hesitating when I wanted to hang on and off and all over him as we talk.
I just feel better when I’m in contact with someone, and as my best friend, it seems like it’s only fair that he gives me access to what I need.
We’re practically the same size, but somehow I feel a little smaller when I’m allowed to twist myself around him.
It makes me feel grounded, safe even, more so than I have with probably anyone else.
Nikko starts slipping his fingers through my hair, and I practically melt with the instant relaxation that makes my whole body loose. I never realize how tense I am until I really let go. “Have you been reading all day?”
“No.” I close my eyes and fight the urge to purr. “I talked to my parents earlier for a little bit.”
“Oh, that’s good. How are they?”
“Fine, I guess. It’s so hard to get them to say much. I know they don’t understand anything about my life.” I say quietly, then whisper, ”They said they’re grateful for the money I sent home.”
Nikko’s hand drops from my hair to my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.
He’s the only one I ever talk to about my family, because I know he understands.
We’re so alike in so many ways and so different in so many others, but he’s my brother in the way I trust him with my real life.
He knows me better than anyone—all my secrets and the things I try so hard to hide.
From standing beside me when I finally came out to the group a couple of years ago to literally holding me up when I got the call that my grandfather was gone right before we had to perform, I don’t know what I’d do without him.
“Such a good son.” He pinches my cheek to lighten the moment and I’m thankful for that, too.
“My mom got all over my case last week when I mentioned Jase had moved to Seoul. She was upset I’d waited so long to tell her how serious things had gotten.
But it just didn’t seem right before that, you know?
I was scared I was going to mess things up, and then I did, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
So I didn’t say anything. But she’s happy for me.
For us. Already asking when I’m going to bring him home to meet them. ”
“They’ll love him,” I promise, because they will.
I’ve met Nikko’s parents enough times to know how they are, and Jase is annoyingly likeable, so it will be fine.
I can’t really imagine taking anyone to meet my parents or grandma.
My sister, maybe, if she still lived in South Korea, but introducing a boyfriend to the rest of my relatives is not something I see going well.
He nods. “Probably.”
“So did you two work everything out? Make a plan for the next chapter of your epic love story?” I ask, teasing.
“I keep thinking that if the company finally lets us do those apartments they keep dangling over our heads, maybe we could have some kind of arrangement with those.” He sounds grumbly and I get it.
We’ve been hoping our steady successes would mean better housing situations, but so far it’s all been promises and no follow-through.
“For now, though, it sounds like he’s planning on staying with Kija-hyung. And we’ll figure it out eventually.”
I instantly perk up at the mention of his name, practically climbing over Nikko to sit up and get even closer. “He’s just moving in with Kija-hyung? We… you could totally go visit Jase, while he’s there. Staying with him. That’s convenient. For them, I mean, being best friends and all.”
“You’re so obvious, I swear.” Nikko groans under my weight and tries to wrangle himself out of my hold.
“What?” I shift the way I’m draped across him, leaning more heavily. “What do you mean?”
Nikko laughs as he pushes me off him. “Can you just admit you’re obsessed with him? You’re really not as sneaky as you think you are.”
I roll my eyes as I rearrange myself yet again. I resent the insinuation that this situation could be compared to our sasaengs and their stalkerish level of investment in our lives. “I’m not obsessed with Kija,” I argue. “I just want him to spit in my mouth, in a romantic way.”
Nikko blinks at me for a moment. “Is… is there a romantic way to do that?”
He looks so sincere as he asks. I wonder if everything that he and Jase do is sweet. Heart eyes gazing and soft touches all the time, probably. I also wonder if that gets boring. “Of course. Anything can be romantic with the right person.”
“I guess.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I’d let Jase do a lot of things to me, but I think I’d draw the line at spitting.”
“What if you don’t have lube?” I ask, trying to be casual. “I’ve read enough books to know people are always spitting on things when they don’t have lube.”
“What?” he sputters, but then his expression changes as he seems to think about it. “I guess there probably isn’t a lot of lube available in those dystopian hellscapes you like to read about, huh?”
“Not so much,” I agree, finally settling next to him to just sit. “So you and Jase are good.”
Nikko is immediately worried, like I’m about to drop some sort of bomb on him. “Yes? Why? What did you hear?”
“Calm down. I was just saying, your relationship is good, so like, Jase is busy with you. And that means Kija-hyung is alone because his best friend has other things going on. So it would be a shame if he were, you know, lonely or something.” I twist a lock of hair around my finger, as though my thoughts are tumbling out freely as they occur to me.
“Sad, huh? You know they’ve lived on separate continents for most of their friendship.” He shakes his head at me, then pokes at my side. “Are you going to volunteer to keep him company?”
Of course I would. I’d be anything, do anything I had to in order to be with him.
Shrugging, I stand, walking the few steps to our shared closest, then pull out a hoodie to slip on before I go to bed. “Do you think he’d ever take a chance?”
“Who would take a chance on what?” Nikko kicks his feet up onto his mattress and leans back against the wall.
“Like Jase is dating you,” I explain. “Do you think Kija would do that?”
Nikko’s brow furrows in confusion. “Would Kija-hyung date me? What are you asking?”
“If Kija would date someone like me,” I mumble, turning back to the racks of clothes for no reason other than not having to see the expression on Nikko’s face when he answers.
“I’m pretty sure he’s straight,” Nikko says, gently, as though he needs to deliver that news carefully.
As if I didn’t know. “But I only know him a little better than you do. I can’t guess at what he might or might not do.
I think his job would probably make it hard to date anyone else from the label, though. ”
“He literally got your boyfriend a job at the company so you could date him,” I remind him. “Seems like he doesn’t mind the idea.”
Nikko grabs a pillow to shove behind his head. “Kija is a good guy; I know that. But I haven’t really picked up on any major risk-taker vibes from him.”
“I bet he could pick me up,” I muse, my mind immediately pulling me into a fantasy of Kija holding me up against a wall.
“Oh my god. We’re done. Please spare me from any more of this conversation,” Nikko groans, ducking further down the bed to pull a blanket up and try to hide.
With my imagination running wild, I know I won’t be able to sleep any time soon.
I yank on the hoodie and grab my phone and key to go for a walk.
Sneaking out is second nature now, I know all the squeaky spots on the floor and each creak of the doors to move around them like a ghost. I’m out of the building in no time, traipsing up to my favorite hideaway, the pavilion in a nearby park.
Stretching out on the playground slide, I close my eyes and let myself sink back into the imagery I’d conjured up. Kija caging me in with his strong arms as he holds me against the wall—maybe in his bedroom—my legs wound around his hips, his lips on mine.
Despite what Nikko thinks, not every thought I have about Kija is dirty. I have just as many domestic daydreams as I do the frisky ones. After four years of getting to know him in little bits and learning about him, I’m more convinced than ever that he’s the perfect man.
Specifically the perfect man for me.
I’ve filed away the sound of his voice every time I’ve heard him speak, tracked every swoop of his hands as he’s gestured, and put together such a vivid facsimile of him in my head that if I concentrate, I can practically feel him.
It’s enough for now.