Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  “I’m trying to be normal… and it’s killing me,” Jong-in said.

  HanYin looked at him. The little bit of light in the room illuminated the right side of his face. He blinked, and his eye went from the beautiful brown HanYin knew to a light purple. A flicker of movement caught HanYin’s eye, and he followed it, spotting an almost delicately shaped ear on the side of Jong-in’s head. Jong-in shifted against the wall, pushing his hips out slightly, and something, a soft sound slithered into the room. The shadows hid the movement, but there was something there.

  “Jong-in?” HanYin questioned.

  “I don’t know what I am. It started when I was… fourteen, fifteen, maybe,” he said softly. “My dad had just died, and it was really hard on my mom. When she cooked before, I could taste the love in her food. I could taste her desire to see us happy and healthy and protected. Afterward her food tasted like ash, but there was still a hint of the love she had for us, my sister and me, in there… until he came.”

  HanYin reached up, took hold of Jong-in’s hand, his clawed hand, and pulled him down until they were curled around each other.

  “Sometimes when I get too stressed, I change. I don’t remember anything that happens while I’m… different. If I get too agitated, I sprout these. I keep a hat in my bag just in case.” Jong-in gestured to his head. “I’ve shredded more sheets than I care to think about, usually from having a nightmare. I was kicked out of my home about six years ago. I was just about to turn seventeen. My stepfather…. He and I never got along. He hates me, I think. I look like my dad a lot. I’m a reminder. I get to see my mom and my sister once, maybe twice a year if he’s feeling generous. I work two or three part-time jobs while going to school, just to pay for it. I barely sleep for trying to be a normal person, to afford the things a normal person needs, and to make myself so exhausted that when I do sleep, I’m too tired to dream.”

  “Jong-in.”

  “Then you came along,” Jong-in continued as if he hadn’t heard, and HanYin just let him go. He knew Jong-in didn’t talk a lot. To have him say so much, even if it wasn’t happy things, was a gift. “I heard your voice first. I was walking down the hall toward Jin-woo-ya’s apartment. The door was cracked because Min-su-ya doesn’t always remember to close it all the way. We were supposed to study, but we ended up watching music videos all night. I heard your voice, so clear, so perfect, singing. God, I can’t even remember the title of the song. Your voice was high, and then it dropped to this growl. I swore it was a different person, but the sound was still, it was still the same voice echoing through my head. That’s when you hooked me, with that song, and I can’t even remember the title.”

  “Call the Dragon,” HanYin murmured against the side of his neck. “I wrote it during the Year of the Dragon. I wanted to do something different, blend more genres together in one song and write about some of my cultural history.”

  “When Jin-woo-ya showed me the video…. You should not be allowed to wear leather pants with no shirt and do body rolls,” Jong-in mumbled, laying his head on HanYin’s shoulder. “I about came in my pants watching that video. That was it. I became your stan at that moment. Every time I close my eyes, you’re there. Nebulous at first, sort of hazy, but since this program started… I can’t get you out of my mind. I try pushing myself harder, drowning myself in music, in work. Nothing helps.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve felt the same way from the first moment you stepped on that dais and sang,” HanYin said.

  “How can you still want me? Not knowing what I am?” Jong-in lifted his head, and they looked at each other.

  “The same way you still want me, knowing I’m not human either,” HanYin said. “We have our issues, the two of us, but when I’m with you… I’m happy. I like cooking for you, watching you enjoy the food I made. I love listening to you when you’re singing because you think no one’s around. And the dimples just kill it for me.”

  “That’s the most I’ve talked in a long time,” Jong-in said. “I don’t even talk that much to Min-su-ya and Jin-woo-ya.”

  “I’m honored,” HanYin said. “And thank you.”

  “For?”

  “You pulled me out of my funk,” HanYin said. “You matter to me—a lot. I need the people I care about to be happy. It’s weird, I suppose, but when they’re not happy, I’m not happy.”

  “HanYin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “As you wish,” HanYin purred, and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips slowly against Jong-in’s. He savored the soft whimper. He cupped Jong-in’s face and tilted his head to get a better angle. As much as he desired Jong-in, HanYin felt no urge to take things further. Just kissing him was the sweetest pleasure he could imagine. He pushed his fingers through Jong-in’s hair, brushing along a silky ear. HanYin smiled against his mouth as he felt Jong-in shiver.

  “What?” Jong-in said between tiny kisses.

  “I think you are a Shifter,” HanYin said and absently licked along his jawline.

  “What being has multiple tails?” He tilted his head, and HanYin hummed happily at the greater access. He loved the taste of Jong-in’s skin.

  “Húli jīng.” HanYin worked along his neck, nipping, feeling the urge to drink slowly building within him. “Fox-Spirit.”

  “I can’t think when you do that,” Jong-in said breathlessly, gasping when HanYin bit a little harder at his neck.

  “Thinking is overrated.”

  “This floor is hard.”

  HanYin pulled him into his lap and continued exploring the length of his neck.

  “I should….” Jong-in moaned. “I should be… getting back. Shit.”

  “I don’t want to let you go.”

  “They’ve got me working on different mixes for ‘Crossing Time.’” Jong-in shifted restlessly in his lap, and HanYin growled at the stimulation to his hard shaft. He wanted them both naked, but he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want Jong-in to get in trouble. BLE was a pretty accommodating place, but there were limits. Reluctantly he pulled away from Jong-in’s neck.

  “Meet me for dinner tonight?” he asked in a rush.

  “What?”

  “I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said again. “Will you let me?”

  “I… I’d love to, but I have to go to work right after I’m done here. I won’t have time to eat before I have to catch the train,” Jong-in said.

  “What if I drove? Would you have time to eat, then?” HanYin said as they stood up.

  “I think so. It’s probably a little quicker by car.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you at your desk after work, then,” HanYin said, stealing another kiss.

  “Do me a favor, HanYin?” Jong-in said, pausing just inside the door. “The next time you feel like this, come talk to me, okay? Don’t try to face it alone.”

  “Only if you do the same,” he said. “If you can’t reach me, talk to Min-su dongsaeng or Jin-woo dongsaeng. They love you.”

  “Okay.”

  Just outside, HanYin pulled Jong-in to him for one last kiss, lingering over the taste of his mouth, savoring it. Then he let him go about his business. Their conversation hadn’t started out that good, but it ended on a positive note. He was pretty sure Jong-in was a Fox-Spirit. It would explain a lot of things, like his ability to sort of disappear in plain sight. HanYin had watched him do it on a couple of occasions. He was sure if he weren’t so aware of Jong-in’s every move, he would have lost sight of him too. It was amazing to watch him just stand still and then see how people didn’t know he was there, at least not on a conscious level. They did move around him without looking at him, as if something told them they needed to shift their path. Cheongul did it sometimes, too, but HanYin didn’t think he was aware of it.

  As long as he’d been alive, HanYin still didn’t know what the range of his abilities were. They’d trained with their physical abilities, learning to control them to blend in better with humans. Every once in a
while, he caught sight of things that shouldn’t be there. Perhaps that was the spirit sight ChenBao was referring to. ChenBao. HanYin bit at the tip of his thumb absently. He couldn’t seem to be completely at ease around her. Cheongul and Ki-tae had managed it, but he still found her qi overwhelming. Ki-tae was right: Soon-joon wouldn’t invite someone into their home who was a threat, and he hadn’t exactly made an effort to get to know her better either. HanYin figured he should try to become more comfortable with her, but he wasn’t sure how to start.

  “I wonder what she likes to eat,” he murmured as he headed for one of the smaller recording studios.

  Jin-woo

  JIN-WOO STARED at the computer screens, watching the time counts and jotting them down on a notepad. He rewound the footage a couple of times, making sure he could get the precise count for the cut. Going through the costumed footage, he found several shots he wanted to mix together, close-ups with midshots, and he wanted to include group shots as well. Bam Kiseu was a trio, and he didn’t want to favor one over the others. Yet it still had to convey the story.

  He smiled as he remembered how much of a fuss Cheongul had kicked up about the wigs. Jin-woo couldn’t blame him, though. Those things were hot to begin with, but the temperatures were on the high side when they were filming. They looked so comfortable in the clothing, though. The topknot and long hair looked completely natural on HanYin, Cheongul and Ki-tae only less so. He wondered when they were all born. How old were they? How old were Soon-joon and ChenBao? How did they become Vampires? There were several comments that made Jin-woo suspect asking Ki-tae about it would be a bad idea. He knew there were still some things they needed to discuss, but he figured it could wait until after work.

  Jin-woo shook his head. He needed to focus on what he was doing, not on Ki-tae. Well, not on Ki-tae in a personal capacity. He glanced down at his notes. Jong-in had said they were working on new mixes, something to make the song stand out from the original. Having the lyrics helped Jin-woo get an idea of what he wanted to do, but without the actual new audio tracks, it would be difficult to get the timing. He grabbed his phone and tapped out a text to Jong-in.

  When do you guys think you’ll be finished with the new mixes? I think I should wait before I really work on the timing.

  Jong-in: I should be finished later today. Working on a debut track now. Guy thinks he’s already on top, won’t listen to what I’m telling him.

  They’re letting you run the board? That’s awesome!

  Jong-in: It’s cool. If this IDIOT would listen, we’d get something great, but he doesn’t want to push. Thinks I’ll back down.

  Doesn’t know you. Keep pushing! Hwaiting!

  Jong-in: You realize you’re a bit of a goof, right? Hwaiting? Seriously?

  Trying to be supportive… jerk. Get back to work!

  Jin-woo laughed as he set his phone back down. Jong-in didn’t usually call people names unless he was tired and they were irritating him. It sounded like this guy was doing more than just refusing to follow direction. It was important to listen to the sound engineers. It was their job to make a singer sound fantastic. In this case Jong-in was going to have to stand his ground and make this guy put out the sound Jong-in wanted. While Jong-in was laid-back and had an uncanny knack for maneuvering people when necessary, he could be incredibly stubborn when the situation called for it, and as far as Jong-in was concerned, the music always called for it.

  About an hour and a half later, Jin-woo’s phone pinged, pulling him out of his work zone. He grabbed it from on top of the desk and swiped it open. It was a message from Jong-in.

  Jong-in: You busy?

  Sort of, what do you need?

  Jong-in: Need you to come to the studio. Have something I want you to hear.

  On my way.

  Jin-woo locked up his computer and grabbed his notepad and pencil. Chances were he would need them. He leaned his head into Hyung-jun’s office and knocked on the doorjamb. Hyung-jun looked away from his monitors and smiled when he spotted Jin-woo.

  “Seonbae, Jong-in-a has something he wants me to listen to. May I go?”

  “Sure. Cho-ree-ssi wanted him to work on the mix for the performance video after they finished that trainee’s debut single. Have them send me a copy if it’s finished,” Hyung-jun said.

  “Okay.” Jin-woo bowed and then headed to the recording studios.

  As he walked, Jin-woo started humming, a melody coming together inside his head. Something sweet and sad, wistful, and then it struck him. This could work with the lyrics that had been spinning around his head for the last few days. With everything that had happened, Jin-woo hadn’t gotten a chance to sit down and work on his song. Four weeks was very generous, but it passed quickly. With all the work they’d been doing on the videos, between filming and now postproduction, plus all the other drama, time was in short supply.

  When he reached the studio assigned to Bam Kiseu, Jin-woo found Jong-in slouched down in his chair, his hood pulled low over his eyes and a set of over-the-ear headphones on, the band curling under his chin. Jin-woo smiled. If not for the telltale bob of his head, Jin-woo would have thought Jong-in was sleeping. Of course he knew him better than that. He had always thought it was a Jong-in thing, to sit like that when he was mixing, until he looked over and saw Cho-ree doing the same thing, only with a baseball cap sitting backward on his head. He gently tapped Jong-in on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Jin-woo-ya.” Jong-in smiled, something Jin-woo hadn’t seen in while. “I didn’t think you would get away so quick.”

  “Hyung-jun seonbae was actually kind of eager, I think. He said he wants you to send him a copy via email when it’s done,” Jin-woo said. He waved at Cho-ree when the engineer finally opened his eyes after tapping the space bar on the keyboard in front of him.

  “Jin-woo dongsaeng.” Cho-ree smiled. He was always smiling. “How are you?”

  “I am good, Seonbae,” Jin-woo said. “Jong-in-a said he had something he wanted me to listen to. I don’t know why. He’s the sound guy.”

  “We’re a team. Sound and visuals go together,” Cho-ree said, nodding at the same time. “We create the sound, you create the visual. To be a good-quality product, the sound needs to encourage and create that visual inside the audience’s head. If we don’t talk, we won’t get that cohesion.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Jin-woo admitted. “I guess I do have something to contribute.”

  “You do. You’re the most visual of all of us, at least storyboard-wise. Min-su-ya was in a meeting, Otherwise, I would have asked her to be here too. I’ll have to catch her later,” Jong-in said. “Pull up a chair. We’ll get this started, and if you and Hyung-jun seonbae are happy with it, you can really start work on the video.”

  “That’s if Ki-tae hubae doesn’t come in before we’re done and redo everything,” Cho-ree chuckled.

  “Is he really that bad?” Jin-woo asked.

  “Not really, but we all pick on him about it,” Cho-ree explained. “Ki-tae hubae has a really good ear. It’s as if he can pick up the smallest sounds on the recording, and he’ll use that to tweak the heck out of individual tracks. The best part of working with Ki-tae hubae, Cheongul hubae, and HanYin hubae is they listen to what you’re telling them, and they’ll give you what you’re asking for. Sometimes they give you more than what you ask for. I’m thinking we should have them relay the vocals, really give ‘Crossing Time’ a makeover.”

  “Do they have time for that?” Jong-in asked. Jin-woo could see him turning the idea over in his head.

  “Three hours tops, one for each of them.” Cho-ree held up the last three fingers of his right hand. “And that’s if they’re happy with what comes out of the session. If not, they’ll do it until the rest of us pass out from exhaustion, and then they’ll keep going until it meets their standards. They’re not one of the most popular bands in South Korea by sheer luck. They work hard, give it their all, and produce some fantastic music.”

  “S
ometimes I wonder if there are times when they don’t get along with each other,” Jin-woo said. “They seem so close, but I can’t imagine they don’t have disagreements.”

  “They do.” Cho-ree nodded. “Usually it’s Cheongul hubae and Ki-tae hubae going head-to-head, with HanYin hubae trying to mediate. Well, he tries until he gets sick of it and smacks them both. This usually prompts a break, and then when everyone has their head back on straight, they’ll come back into the studio, replay the tracks in question, and then go over the contending points until they get an answer they can all live with. They do everything as a team. They are Bam Kiseu.”

  “Then we need to do our best to give them a video they can be proud of,” Jong-in said as he turned to Jin-woo. He then handed him a set of headphones, and they got to work.

  Jong-in

  JONG-IN SIGHED as he leaned his head back against the chair. Putting his arms high above his head, he stretched the entire length of his body. He was tired, and although he had already been working for ten hours, his day wasn’t done yet. He still had his first part-time job to go to, and there would be several more hours before he would be able to go to sleep. The door to the studio opened, and Cho-ree stuck his head inside. Jong-in worked up a smile for him, but it was an effort.

  “Good work today, dongsaeng,” he said before fully entering the room. “You have a great ear and an easy way with people. I was impressed with how you handled the trainee today. He was being a bit of a diva, and he doesn’t have the chops to back it up yet. He’s got raw potential, and you pushed until we got him to give what we knew he was capable of. On top of that, you finished the two remixes. I’ve sent them over to Hyung-jun-ssi and Cheong-bo hubae as well as Soon-joon-nim and the boys.”