Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  “Weirdest question ever. Yes, they’re straight.” HanYin chuckled. Then he walked over and touched his forehead to Ki-tae’s, cupping the back of his neck. “We’ll see you out there, Ki-tae.”

  The last day of Bam Kiseu being on set was coming sooner than Ki-tae wanted. It meant he wouldn’t see Jin-woo daily anymore, and that bothered him. No more stolen kisses or making out in an empty room. No more watching him laugh at something one of the crew members said or sitting quietly, sketching everything and everyone around him, or working on his other projects, writing incessantly. No more watching him lick the cheese powder off his fingers and wishing those fingers were something else. Ki-tae stopped walking as he realized he would miss Jin-woo a lot.

  “It’s not goodbye, you know,” Cheongul said suddenly from in front of him. Ki-tae contained his response just in time. He didn’t like to be startled. “You have his phone number. You know where he lives and goes to school.”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “Because I know you,” Cheongul said as he put his arm around Ki-tae’s shoulders. “I also know a little of what you’re feeling. I’m going to miss that spunky little wench.”

  “Min-su dongsaeng?”

  “Yeah. She is… one of a kind.” Cheongul said. “I have the bruises to prove it. That girl has a solid punch.”

  “She….”

  “She what?” Cheongul asked.

  Ki-tae focused on his words. “There’s something about her scent. It’s as if it’s, I don’t know, muted or something. Jong-in dongsaeng, I don’t think he’s human, but it’s not my place to say anything. He doesn’t smell like most humans and I can’t place what he does smell like.”

  “I noticed that too,” Cheongul said. “It’s almost as if there’s something masking her scent, making it impossible to identify. As for Jong-in dongsaeng, honestly, he reminds me of Hyun-jo seonbae. Really, that’s not something you can bring up in casual conversation, you know? What would you say? ‘By the way, you smell funny. Why is that?’”

  “I see she stopped avoiding you,” Ki-tae said as they sat down to wait for the director. “How are the dance lessons coming?”

  “Are you kidding?” Cheongul laughed hard. “I have never seen anyone take on Gojira seonbae the way Min-su-ya does! She really gave Gojira seonbae an earful the first time they met and saw how hard Gojira seonbae pushes us. It was spectacular to watch!”

  “I thought they were going to come to blows.” Ki-tae chuckled.

  “Apparently they went for drinks afterward and are now friends,” Cheongul said. “I still have a hard time picturing Gojira seonbae as anyone’s friend.”

  “You only say that because I don’t let you three slack off in practice.” The voice was firm and lyrical. Cheongul and Ki-tae turned to see Gojira standing behind them, arms crossed. “It is why you dance well enough to bring tears to the audience’s eyes. Now hurry up. We have one more quick practice before they begin, and Ki-tae dongsaeng, you’re still sloppy on that last series of moves. Up, up, up!”

  “She is…,” Ki-tae began.

  “A slave driver!” Cheongul finished with a sigh as he pushed himself up from the chair. “Where’s Min-su-ya when we need her?”

  “Already waiting to begin practice!” Gojira said. “She works harder than you two!”

  Ki-tae’s legs were protesting and it had only been fifteen minutes while the lighting team replaced two blown lights. Granted it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. Gojira took it easier on them when on-site. It was her idea to have Min-su, Jong-in, and Jin-woo practice the steps with them. He had no idea why, but he wasn’t going to complain. Jin-woo moved incredibly well. That boy should not be allowed to do body rolls anywhere near Ki-tae when others were present. Now, in private, that was another story. Jin-woo could roll that sweet little body of his all he wanted.

  “Ki-tae dongsaeng, Jin-woo dongsaeng, you two in the middle. Cheongul dongsaeng and Min-su dongsaeng, you to the right, Jong-in dongsaeng and HanYin dongsaeng to the left,” Gojira said raising an eyebrow when they were too slow in her opinion. “This is practice, not a stroll in the park.”

  “Tyrant,” Ki-tae muttered, making Jin-woo chuckle.

  “And begin….”

  The music started playing. Gojira counted off the steps as she moved around them, correcting as she went.

  When the music stopped, she was standing in her original position, studying them one by one. “Better, but not perfect. Again!”

  By the time they were done, everyone was bent over, panting. Everyone except Jin-woo, that is. He seemed full of energy and was bouncing off the walls. “How? How in the world can you have any energy after dealing with her?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jin-woo laughed. “My regular exercise routine is dancing. This was fun!”

  “It’s official,” Cheongul said drily. “You are insane!”

  “Admit it,” Jin-woo teased as he poked Cheongul in the stomach, something Ki-tae was sure he would have never even considered doing a few weeks ago. “You have fun dancing together.”

  “I will admit nothing of the sort,” Cheongul said.

  “I saw you smiling,” Min-su pointed out. “If you weren’t having fun, why were you smiling?”

  “The company,” he said with a shrug. Ki-tae glanced over and saw the blush on Min-su’s cheeks.

  “Why did we get dragged into it?” Jong-in said from his spot on the ground, flat on his back. “I mean, I understand you three, but us? We’re not going to be on camera.”

  “I gave up trying to figure out why she does anything.” Ki-tae sighed before chugging half a bottle of water. “Personally I think she’s a sadist.”

  Jin-woo

  ONCE THEY had recovered, they hit the showers. They were using one of the smaller sets, and so Jong-in and Jin-woo went to use a separate shower while Ki-tae and the others used the one in their dressing room. Jin-woo wished they could shower together, although he would not have an easy time of it. It was Ki-tae, a naked, wet Ki-tae, and Jin-woo so wanted the privacy to explore all that dark, honey-toned flesh. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, breathing slowly. Then he did it again, going to twenty. No, the breathing exercise just wasn’t working. There would be too much Ki-tae on display.

  “It’s all going to be over soon,” Jong-in said quietly, leaning his head against the tile wall, his shirt in his hand and his shorts hanging low. “All of this will be just another memory. How long before they forget us? How long?”

  “Jong-in-a?” Jin-woo moved closer. He wrapped his arms around Jong-in and held on tightly. He could feel the shaking of his body. “You’ll miss him.”

  “It was pointless, but it still hurts,” Jong-in said. “Why does it hurt so much when there was nothing there to begin with?”

  “Tell him, Jong-in-a,” Jin-woo said softly. “Tell HanYin hyung how you feel.”

  “And run the risk of being laughed at? Beaten? I don’t think so.”

  “What in HanYin hyung’s personality ever gave you the idea he would purposely hurt you?” Jin-woo said. “He is one of the sweetest people we know. He wouldn’t do something like that. I doubt that man can hurt a fly.”

  “Do you know that for sure? Can you promise it?” Jong-in demanded, turning to face Jin-woo and making him step back. “No, some dreams are better left untainted by reality.”

  Jin-woo didn’t know what to say as Jong-in went into the showers. As he replayed the words in his head, Jin-woo realized Jong-in would never act on his feelings for HanYin. He would never put himself out there to get hurt. He had always thought Jong-in preferred girls, but he never seemed to have any. At least not voluntarily. Some of the girls at university harassed him, trying to get him to accept their chocolates or other presents. He was polite to everyone, but he never accepted the gifts. After his admission a couple of weeks ago, certain things made more sense, and Jin-woo was surprised he hadn’t clued in earlier, but in the end, it didn’t really matter to him. What matter
ed was Jong-in and his happiness. He always seemed to be rushing off, too, as if he didn’t have time to breathe. It really bothered Jin-woo, as he had the suspicion there was something going on, something that was causing the dark circles under Jong-in’s eyes.

  Yet Jin-woo had watched him with HanYin. Jong-in had smiled more in the last few weeks than ever before, all because of HanYin. He’d even stopped wearing his glasses and went back to his contacts. Why would Jong-in give that up? It was scary. Jin-woo could understand that. Acknowledging that you weren’t like everyone else, that you were attracted to other men, was hard. He understood how people’s reactions were different, even hostile, but living a lie, not being yourself, that killed your soul. He didn’t tell anyone unless they straight-up asked, but he didn’t hide from it either. He learned to defend himself, and he refused to let other people’s problems dictate how he lived his life. How could he inspire Jong-in to do the same?

  When the last day Bam Kiseu was on set arrived, Jin-woo was very quiet. He was going to miss seeing Ki-tae every day. He loved watching Ki-tae, sketching Ki-tae, kissing Ki-tae, and he certainly enjoyed blowing Ki-tae. There would be no more of that until filming was done. Then it would be postproduction time. He, Min-su, and Jong-in would be inside the studio from the moment they arrived in the building, making sure everything came out perfect. It was still so damned exciting. Now if he could just figure out his song and dinner for Ki-tae, life would be beyond good.

  “You look very sad today,” HanYin said as he approached.

  “I am sad. I’m going to miss you three and your antics,” Jin-woo said, pausing in his sketching. “And not having to cook, that was definitely a plus.”

  HanYin laughed. “I see how you are. You only want me around for my food.”

  “Well, yeah,” Jin-woo teased.

  “I’m going to miss you guys too,” HanYin said, and Jin-woo watched his gaze go straight to Jong-in.

  “Give me your phone,” Jin-woo said, holding out his hand.

  “What?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Are we going with ‘when’ and ‘who’ next?” Jin-woo laughed. “Just give me your phone.”

  Finally HanYin gave up his phone after unlocking it. Jin-woo smiled at a beautiful shot of a lotus flower as the phone’s wallpaper. He quickly opened the contacts app and put in Jong-in’s information. Then he smirked at HanYin and handed the phone back after saving the information.

  “Call him,” he said.

  “Call who?” HanYin mumbled, even as he stared at the screen.

  “He’s not going to make the first move,” Jin-woo said. “You’ll have to show him you’re interested in him.”

  “What makes you…? Never mind, that’s a stupid question,” HanYin said. “You know I’m gay.”

  “I had my suspicions, but I try not to assume anything,” Jin-woo said. “I’d think the same thing of Cheongul hyung, especially with the way he keeps stuffing his hands in yours and Ki-tae-ya’s pockets, if he didn’t watch Min-su-ya’s ass and catch his bottom lip between his teeth every time she walks by.”

  “She is definitely his type,” HanYin said. “Cute, adorable, and feisty.”

  “Feisty doesn’t even come close.” Jin-woo chuckled. “She’s a force of nature.”

  “I can’t argue that,” HanYin said. “You guys head into the studio soon, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, the director figures we can wrap up the rest of the video in about a day or two, and then into the studio. I have a feeling we’re going to be working harder there than we did here,” Jin-woo said. “Plus, we still have our classwork and the song for part two of the BLE program.”

  “I like being in the studio. Cheongul-a gets twitchy, though. After about a day or two, he starts bouncing off the walls, usually after Ki-tae-ya has made him sing the same section over a hundred times in a row because he’s not happy with it.”

  “I noticed you guys seem to take turns being the lead writer on different albums. How did that happen?” Jin-woo asked.

  “We all write lyrics. Sometimes we’ll come into the studio with about fifteen or twenty songs apiece,” HanYin said. “Then we’ll go through what everyone’s written and see which ones share a similar theme. Once they’ve been sorted that way, we’ll pick a theme to start with, and the person who wrote it will sit down at the piano and sing it, playing the melody that went through our head at the time we were writing. We’ll do that a couple of times, and then we’ll pick apart the melody, tweak things, and we’ll see what works and what doesn’t. After that it’s a matter of putting down the tracks. I’ll warn you now. When Ki-tae-ya doesn’t have any other commitments, he’ll be in that studio, driving everyone insane.”

  “He’s that bad, huh?” Jin-woo said.

  “He is, but he’s that good, too, so they put up with it.” HanYin smiled. “Every song he writes, he records. They don’t always get released, but he has everything that ever popped out of his head. There are some tracks we’ve recorded that will never see the light of day. They’re just… too personal.”

  “I completely understand that,” Jin-woo said quietly. “There are some drawings of mine that will never appear anywhere outside my room. Drawing is my therapy on occasion, and those things are private, personal… intimate.”

  “Exactly.” Suddenly HanYin grinned wickedly. “Want to see how much trouble we can get Cheongul-a into?”

  “What do you mean?” Jin-woo asked warily.

  “We cannot leave this set without getting either Cheongul-a to kiss Min-su dongsaeng or her to kiss him,” HanYin said.

  Jin-woo smiled. She’d kill him, but it would be so worth it. He nodded.

  “Does she like Pocky?” HanYin asked.

  “She does, but she adores Haitai Choco ThinThins,” Jin-woo said. “I watched her chase down a thief on a bike because the bag he’d stolen had not her wallet, but her ThinThins in it. One does not mess with Min-su-ya’s ThinThins.”

  “Oh, this is going to be good,” HanYin said. “Those are Cheongul-a’s favorite too.”

  Arrangements needed to be made, and HanYin hurried off to make them. He was almost cackling with glee when he left Jin-woo. Clearly he was going to enjoy this… whatever it was… immensely.

  Jin-woo looked around the set at the milling people, some working on equipment, others going over paperwork. The director was looking at the dailies from the previous day. Jin-woo would miss the busyness of it, but he figured the studio would have its own kind of busy.

  He turned back around just in time to see Ki-tae walk through the door. Jin-woo smiled, and Ki-tae made a beeline for him. He closed his sketchbook, putting his finger between the pages, and tucked the pencil behind his ear. It was hard to sit there and wait for Ki-tae to reach him. Jin-woo wanted to run to him and envelope Ki-tae in a tight hug.

  “I thought you weren’t going to make it,” Jin-woo said as Ki-tae stopped in front of him. “What kept you?”

  “Last-minute radio interview.” Ki-tae sighed. “Soon-joon-nim is not happy. He told them not to schedule anything for days when I’m shooting, yet someone manages to do it every single time. Heads are going to roll. He went back to headquarters after he dropped me off.”

  “That is not something I want to see,” Jin-woo said. “Soon-joon hyung seems very easygoing, but sometimes there’s a fierceness in his eyes that kind of scares me.”

  “His bad side is not pretty, I can tell you that.” Ki-tae chuckled.

  “Well, let’s get you into wardrobe,” Jin-woo said. He set his sketchbook aside and rose to his feet. Ki-tae smiled at him. “What?”

  Ki-tae took the pencil from behind his ear and then placed it on the table next to his sketchbook. “You’re forever forgetting to leave your pencil with your sketchbook, and then getting upset when you lose it.”

  Jin-woo could feel the heat in his cheeks. He smacked Ki-tae’s chest and then started walking to wardrobe. He gasped as Ki-tae came up behind him and
pressed close, wrapping one arm around Jin-woo’s waist, then pushed him through the door and locked it behind them.

  “Ki-tae-ya, what?”

  His words were cut off by Ki-tae’s mouth hot and insistent on his. Jin-woo whimpered softly, wrapping his arms around Ki-tae’s neck as they maneuvered through the racks of clothing. Ki-tae’s hands seemed to be everywhere: on his back, his shoulders, his hips, and especially his ass. Jin-woo wasn’t complaining, though. He loved the way Ki-tae touched him, as if he couldn’t resist.

  When Ki-tae nuzzled his neck, Jin-woo tilted his head without thinking, giving Ki-tae easier access. He expected to feel the delicious sensation of Ki-tae’s fangs sinking into his throat, but all he got was a sharp nip before Ki-tae continued down to the collar of his shirt. Jin-woo’s brain was too far gone to figure out how Ki-tae was undoing his buttons when his hands were still filled with Jin-woo’s ass, but he was enjoying the licks and nips to his bare chest.

  Jin-woo cried out when Ki-tae nuzzled his shirt out of the way and sucked hard on his nipple, digging his nails into Ki-tae’s shoulders as he tried to steady himself. His breath came in short pants punctuated by whimpers. He rocked his hips uncontrollably. Vaguely he felt his shirt being tugged from his pants. The sound of a belt buckle clanged gently, and there was a tugging sensation at his hips. Cool air caressed his heated skin, and Jin-woo shivered.

  He looked down to see Ki-tae staring up at him from beneath long lashes, making his breath catch at the heat in his eyes. Jin-woo couldn’t have looked away even if he wanted to. He watched as Ki-tae leaned forward, still holding his gaze, and slowly ran his tongue up the length of Jin-woo’s cock. He cried out, his hips jerking forward. After a moment the sensation faded, and Jin-woo looked down once more, only to see a flash of fang in Ki-tae’s smile and watch his cock disappear down Ki-tae’s throat in one slow slide. He dug his fingers into Ki-tae’s hair, his body on fire with the sensations racing through him. By God, the wait had been worth it as Jin-woo felt Ki-tae’s throat ripple against him.