Chapter 10
TEN
KIJA
“So.” Jase says, breaking the silence that has stretched so long it’s become awkward. “Here we are.”
I nod. “Yep.”
“I mean, I’m never going to turn down the best gochujang udon on this side of Seoul, but, uh, what are we doing?” he asks, tapping at my hand with the non-eating end of his chopstick.
We’d been here, our favorite hole-in-the-wall noodle place, The Leafy Dragon, so often back in the day that the ahjussi who ran the restaurant would see us come in and start making our food without even asking.
I had heard he finally retired a couple of years ago, but his son is definitely doing a good job following in his impressively seasoned footsteps. “I wanted lunch?”
Jase snorts. “So you came halfway across the city to this place when you have a thousand options mere steps from your fancy office?”
“You just said it was the best,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“No, you wanted this specific food because it’s your comfort go-to which means something is going on in your head that you, one, don’t know what to do with, and two, are trying to avoid.
” Jase settles back against the cracked plastic of the booth seat and folds his arms, daring me to argue with him.
I don’t, of course, because I can’t. He’s right.
Frowning, I look out the ancient window. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t know me so well,” I lie.
He laughs this time. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” Pausing for our bowls to be set on the table, he gives a nod to the server and then focuses on me again. “Are you going to tell me or should I guess? Because I’m pretty sure I’m only going to need one.”
“I’m just... I think… I’m confused?” I didn’t mean for it to be a question, but maybe it is. I don’t know that I can fully identify how I feel right now.
“A little moment of gay panic will do that to you,” Jase jokes, but his expression is understanding, like he’s trying to make this as easy for me as he can.
I twirl the noodles around the bowl, watching the seaweed flakes break apart. “I’m not gay, though?”
“But you are indeed panicking over your feelings about another man, yeah?” he questions.
When he puts it that way, I don’t know how to respond. Instead I take a bite, slurping on the chewy noodles far longer than necessary, before giving him the tiniest of nods.
“Don’t worry, I caught that,” he tells me with a hint of a smile.
“I know it’s not the same because I’ve always liked boys.
I honestly don’t ever remember looking at girls with any sort of interest. But there’s still that moment of, ‘Oh god, what does this mean for me?’ And it’s scary no matter when it happens. ”
“I don’t understand it,” I finally admit.
“I’ve had too much time to think about it on my own, and it’s like I’m going in circles.
I know he’s into me. I’ve known that for a long time, but I didn’t expect him to just show up one day and put it out there.
Or to come back and remind me that he was mine for the taking.
And now I can’t stop wondering. I left a date with a woman—an unhinged woman, but still a woman—and I was driving around thinking it probably isn’t that different to kiss a guy? Lips are lips, right?”
“I assume so? Again, never kissed a girl, but it seems legit,” he says, then adds, “And Yung-Sun’s got really nice lips.”
I groan, because he’s right. Those bee-stung lips have haunted my thoughts—along with that fucking beauty mark—and all the other little details I didn’t realize I was fixated on until I couldn’t get them out of my head. “What am I going to do?”
Jase looks at me, intensely, right in the eyes. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” I hear myself saying.
“You’re a liar, Kim Kija,” he says, sounding entirely too familiar.
My gaze moves somewhere over his shoulder, settling on a faded scroll of a dragon that is not at all leafy. I can’t look at him while I ask, “Am I crazy if I say I want to see what happens?”
Jase stands up and leans over the table, nearly dipping the hem of his shirt in both of our bowls. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he tells me, pulling me into the world’s most uncoordinated hug.
I have to laugh, though, because it’s just the kind of response I needed. I have no idea what I’m about to do, but at least I know I’ve got support.
???
I am grateful for both Jase and Nikko’s involvement in my life and what might be a new relationship of some kind. But it’s also a little odd to have them help arrange secret get-togethers by passing messages like we’re all back in middle school.
When I mentioned needing to find a way to talk to Yung-Sun in non-company-related territory, it had taken all of forty seconds for Jase to message Nikko, who was apparently with Yung-Sun, and arrange for him to be at my apartment around midnight.
I don’t know how he’s sneaking out of RYSING’s shared housing nor how he intends to get from there to here, but I got the impression that this is not the first time he’s been on an incognito nighttime escapade.
I did not ask for nor do I want details, because plausible deniability is only going to help both of us.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this nervous about something.
It should be fine. I should be calm. I have no reason to be trying not to sweat as I hover awkwardly on the arm of this chair still dressed from work.
I can practically hear Jase laughing at me, sitting so stiffly while I try to be the picture of ease and unbotheredness.
The fact that I’m not sets me even more on edge. By nature, my personality is pretty even-tempered. It’s one of the things that makes me good at my job, able to succeed in the stress of this highly unpredictable industry.
But here I am, my heart trying to tie itself into knots as I wait.
There’s something about Yung-Sun that is vastly different from anyone I have ever encountered.
I don’t understand the way I think about him.
How he’s gotten under my skin. Or why I’ve entertained any of the thoughts I’ve had about him late at night.
Or any other time he’s crept into my mind, completely unbidden.
Just lurking, waiting for me to have a moment of weakness and let my guard down.
I’m startled by the knock at the door and realize Nikko—courtesy of Jase, surely—must have told him how to get into the building. My hand may be trembling a little as I reach for the handle and pull it toward me.
The energy in the room totally shifts as he walks in, like everything is electrified now. This one person—his stature slight compared to my own—has such a powerful aura, I’d almost believe it could make my knees weak.
He’s looking around, eyes darting from one corner to another as he takes in the space I call my home. I follow him helplessly, like I have to—like I’m compelled by his presence. I watch as he inspects everything, letting my eyes roam over him in the same way. Cataloging. Memorizing.
I work with idols every day, but I have never seen anyone who looks quite like he does, and I’m taken aback by it every time, now that I’ve noticed.
He’s beautiful.
I’d have never used that word to describe a man before him, but he is.
Delicate features, but a strong jawline.
Hair that’s always perfectly styled even when it’s not, and clothes that seem to have been made specifically for him, no matter what he’s got on.
He’s in soft pants and a sweater that’s probably cashmere, hanging perfectly to expose his collarbones.
Since when are collarbones sexy?
He smiles. My stomach swoops, threatening to knock me off balance as he comes closer, eliminating the distance and any illusion of boundaries between us.
“Sun…” I gasp, his full name apparently too much for me currently. I take a step back, like that will help. It doesn’t. He’s close enough that I can imagine the warmth of his body. I can smell a hint of sweetly-scented perfume, and my throat goes dry.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, reaching to grasp my wrist, fingers circling until he’s got a hold on me.
I know I should shake him off, but I don’t. “What?”
His other hand smooths the lapel of my jacket, and it feels entirely too familiar and intimate. “I was waiting for you to call for me.”
“How did you know I would?” I ask. My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.
Sun’s gaze meets mine for a quick glance and then his fingers are sliding up to the knot of my tie before he wraps the material around his fist and pulls me closer to him. There’s one breath of hesitation—a pause—and I realize he’s giving me a chance to back away. To stop him.
I don’t.
He leans in, lashes fluttering as his eyes close, and presses his lips to mine. Gently at first, then with more intention. Any kind of surprise I thought I might feel just… isn’t there. If anything, the tension I’d been holding disappears, my body relaxing into the moment.
Pulling away, he blinks at me. Once, twice, and then he’s kissing me again.
And I’m kissing him back. Like it’s something I’ve always done. Like this was what I didn’t know I was supposed to be doing all along.
Sun gasps, a shaky little sound, as I sweep my tongue over his plump lower lip, just to tease.
It’s simple. Instinctive. To push a little farther to chase the soft moan that escapes when he opens up for me. To let my hands settle at his waist, grasping like I’m suddenly afraid to let him go.
But I have to break away, have to breathe. I need air, need to take a second.
I called him over. To talk. To figure things out.
But maybe also this. To see what would happen.
Stepping back, I drop onto my couch and loosen my tie. He joins me almost immediately, curling up with his feet tucked underneath him, leaning in toward me. His proximity makes me dizzy, but the eye contact he makes has my pulse racing. Everything about him is overwhelming.
I clear my throat, as though that will somehow also help me clear my head. “I, uh, I wanted to talk.”
“I wanted to kiss you,” he says. “So I did.”
“Yeah, I… That was…” I have no idea what I’m trying to say.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time.
” His hands are on my tie again, stroking the silk fabric in a way that immediately makes me think of other places I’d like him to do the same.
“Might want to do it again,” he comments, as he unfolds himself and throws one leg over mine, straddling my thighs.
“Fuck,” I curse, the word getting lost as his lips brush mine.
But then I’m sinking into the cushions and he’s squirming against me, mouths crashing together, all teeth and tongue as it seems like he’s going to try to get everything he can from me while he has the chance.
It’s clumsy but endearing, how badly he wants this. Wants me.
Sun whines when I pull back some, clearly displeased. He looks at me, a little petulant, a little bit hurt. “Why did you…”
I stop him with one finger held to his lips.
“Wait.” His whole body freezes, then he shudders, a delayed reaction to something he seems to have just discovered he might like.
Smiling, I lean back in. “Go easy,” I say, nudging my nose against his, then bowing my head to skim along the line of his jaw.
His fingers twist in my shirt, making the fabric taut, as he whimpers, tilting his head to give me better access to nip at his throat. Exhaling shakily, he requests, “Kiss me again. Sh- show me what you like.”
I take his lower lip between my teeth, sucking languidly for a moment before giving him a quick nip, then kissing the corner of his mouth.
He’s practically vibrating, clutching at me impatiently as I finally bring our lips back together with the barest hint of tongue.
It seems to be enough for him to understand that there may be a time for us to try to devour each other in the future, but this isn’t it.
My hand wraps around the back of his neck, thumb grazing his cheek to gently guide him, and time just starts to slip away.
We fall into a bit of a cadence, unhurried, pausing to inhale, open a little more, then deepen each kiss until it’s all shared air between us, passing each breath back and forth like a confession.
Eventually, Sun swoons a bit, creating the smallest bit of distance, and when I see him, his lips slick and swollen from kissing, eyes dark and heavy with want, I am certain this has gone too far.
But I don’t push him away. I don’t want to and I’m not sure I could.
It’s not just the weight of him keeping me here.
“Tell me about your first kiss,” he whispers, two of his fingers trailing over my lips. I swear they tingle in the wake of his touch.
“I was twelve, I think? Her name was Sooah and she was very pretty, but I was scared of her,” I say, laughing, because I realize those intimidating pre-teen feelings are not entirely different from the ones I’m having now.
“She ran up to me after school one day, grabbed my face, and kissed me. I think I just stood there for a solid couple of minutes after she ran off giggling with her friends.”
Sun smiles, laughing a little himself. “Aww. I bet twelve-year-old Kija was very cute.”
“I was, thank you,” I lie, because I was very much not cute at all at twelve. “What about yours?”
“My first kiss,” he clarifies, and I nod, “was with a very handsome older man about a half an hour ago.”
My jaw drops. I guess I had expected that he would not have a lot of practice, but I was his first kiss? It feels like a lot of pressure even though it’s already happened.
“I see you’re having too many thoughts.” Sun touches my cheek, knuckles brushing over toward my ear. “Don’t worry, this was exactly what I wanted.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit. “I am older than you. More experienced. I should be in control of all of this, and I’m not.”
“You don’t have to be in charge all the time.” He looks serious as he says it, but then grins deviously. “Sometimes you can let me call the shots.”
I am aware that almost everything about this is a bad idea.
Me and Sun.
Letting him lead.
But I find that I’m becoming less concerned about what might be right or wrong with every moment we spend together.
I’ve never been reckless, but I hear it’s good to try new things.