Page 54 of Teach Me K-Pop

Realizing I’d walked right past my room while daydreaming about Nikko again, I turn around and locate the correct door, holding up the keycard and watching a dizzying combination of neon green lights flash in some sort of pattern before it finally lets me in.

As soon as I’m inside, I notice immediately that someone has already been there. I wonder if there’s been a mistake or if Kija has decided to show up and surprise me. But then I recognize the stickers on the suitcase tucked under the table and the sneakers by the dresser from seeing them both multiple times when Nikko would pack while we chatted.

I’m in Nikko’s room.

I drop my own bag, half from shock and partly from not knowing how to react, knowing I’ve got a key to Nikko’s room.

Which is apparently also my room.

We are sharing a room.

My stomach swoops. Did he request this? Did someone just assume this was basically a booty call and figure this would be easier than me sneaking around?

There are still two beds, so we can keep a respectable distance if that’s what he wants. I hope it’s not, but whatever he says goes.

I see that there’s a piece of the hotel stationary on the table and go to grab it. It’s a note written in a mix of Korean and English, Nikko’s handwriting neat and precise in both. He’s telling me to get comfortable, order whatever I might want from room service and promising me he’ll come back as soon as possible after the show, and I can hear every word in his voice as I read it. There’s a little heart, carefully drawn next to his name at the bottom and I have a fleeting thought of trying to find a tattoo studio nearby to ink it on me, this tiny symbol that makes my own heart wild.

My flight delay has already made me arrive later than I anticipated, and I want to wash the plane germs off before I see him. I hesitate for a second before stripping down, but ultimately decide a shower and a quick stroke session to chill out before Nikko gets back is probably the right thing to do.

????

I sit up when I hear the lock click and the door opens. Even in this random hotel room, there’s something that feels kind of domestic about this, waiting for him to come in. To come to me.

Nikko’s eyes light up as soon as he sees me. The rush of affection that I feel is almost overwhelming. He quickly turns to hang the “do not disturb” sign outside and secures the door, dropping his bag and hurrying to cross the room.

His hair is damp, and I don’t know if it’s from cleaning up at the venue or if he’s still sweaty, but I don’t care. I reach for him as he steps into my space, our arms wrapping around each other simultaneously. We fit together so well, body to body, that I can’t help but think we were made for this. Made to match up, to align just so. Made for each other. It’s kind of trite and a little romance novel, but I don’t know how else to explain it.

Looking into his dark eyes, those stars that I can’t believe are real, that look even brighter in person, and reflect everything I want so badly, I have to kiss him. I need to taste him, to breathe him in, hold him just like this for as long as I can. As long as he’ll let me.

Nikko kisses back tentatively—like he’s still not quite sure of himself, or of us, after this time apart—until I squeeze him a little tighter, and it’s enough to make him bolder. I need him to know this is everything I could want. Just being here with him in this moment.

He moans softly, the sweetest sound against my lips, before pulling away with a shaky breath. “I like seeing you here. In my room. Waiting for me.”

Before I can even respond, he’s shaking his head, then speaking again. “No. Not waiting. I do not want you to wait on me. I like you here. For me. With me. I am sorry you waited.”

I slip my hand along his jawline, thumb brushing over his cheek as I smile at him. “I don’t mind waiting for you,” I say. Leaning in to kiss him again, I don’t even try to stop the words before they escape. “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Nikko gasps, stepping back, and I immediately worry it’s too much. I’ve been too honest, and he’s not ready for it. But as soon as his wide, warm eyes catch mine, I know I don’t have anything to worry about.

“I... I think the same,” he tells me, his fingers clutching at the fabric of my shirt. “I want to hear you say things. I think about them. And then you do. I cannot believe it is real.”

Tilting my head down to rest my forehead against his, I wonder the same thing as I close my eyes. Howisthis real? How did I get here? I have him to myself somehow. We both want to be here, together. Every fan’s fantasy, but this is actually my life? Incredible.

“Jase?”

It’s only one word, but I know all the ways he says my name, and this is different. I look at him again, our faces so close I feel like I could actually count the stars in his eyes. I give him some space but leave my hands on him, a loose grip keeping our fingers tangled. “Yeah?”

“Can we... If you…” Nikko starts and stops, fidgeting as his gaze roams everywhere around the room except me. His cheeks are turning pink, even as he tries again. “I want to.”

I think for a moment there’s going to be more to that sentence, but when no more words follow, I figure that I need to take some context clues. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, I gently pull him to the space beside me. “What do you want, Nikko?” I ask quietly. “You just need to tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Believe me.”

“You are here. With me. And I want…”

Suddenly he’s got his hands on either side of my face, guiding me back into another kiss, much more aggressive than he’s ever been. I groan when he gives me a little nibble that’s rougher than he probably intends, but still sends the best kind of shock running through me. “Nikko. Anything. I swear.” I just need him to say the words, and whatever he wants, it’s his.

“I want to feel you,” he breathes, whisper soft. “Jebal.”

I kiss him again; I have to. He didn’t need to say please, but damn if that doesn’t spark something inside me. “I want that, too. Want to touch you.”

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