Page 57 of Teach Me K-Pop

“Yes. Really.” I move closer to him, and he immediately wraps himself around me and holds on tight. “I thought we could have a date night.”

When he lets go enough to look up at me, his eyes are watery, but he still stretches up, kissing me soft and sweet. “Thank you.” He takes my hand, walking us both over to the table to take it all in. “This is the perfect first date.”

“Then let me be the perfect gentleman.” I pull a chair out for him, warm from the inside out at his radiant smile as he sits. I manage to pop the cork on the champagne without causing any damage to either of us and pour it into the flutes before taking the other seat. “I know you said you like cheesecake, so I got that. But I love tiramisu, and I thought we could have that, too?”

Nikko grabs one of the sporks the cafe gave me and laughs at it. “Yes, please. I would like to try both with this… thing.”

I ask him about the show as we stab bites of dessert, and he tells me about yet another water fight Tang and Ryo got into, the fan sign that made Chita blush, and the sweet grandmother and granddaughter who attended the sound check party together. Listening to him like this feels like the most normal thing in the world—so routine, so lived in, like we could do this all the time. Coming home to each other, sharing stories of our day over cake and champagne.

After he takes the last bite, he gets up and drops himself onto my lap, brushing his lips against mine. It’s gentle, but only for a moment, and then something switches into a creamy-coffee-and-cheesecake tinged clash of teeth and tongues. I want to consume him—want him to devour me.

Nikko slides off of me and uses the collar of my shirt to coax me into following him the few steps to the bed. He lets go only to reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head, tossing it at me as he falls back onto the mattress. I watch as his track pants come next, shucked off and haphazardly pitched toward the couch. He stretches out, his lean frame long, muscles taut, and I swear my brain just kind of glitches.

But I have enough sense to crawl onto the mattress, caging him in with my knees on either side of him, hands planted next to his shoulders so I can lean down to kiss him, deep and lush until I’m breathless and the only thing I know isNikko.

His pulse is absolutely racing as I trail kisses along the column of his throat, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath my lips. He whimpers, back arching, hips raising, seeking any kind of contract.

My lips skim over his clavicle, trailing down over his chest, sweeping over one nipple then the other. He moans, twisting his body toward me, silently begging me to do it again. I’m more than happy to oblige him, and the flickering licks and gentle tugs make him cry out and it’s fucking music to my ears.

“More,” he sighs, fingers digging into my biceps as he clings to me. “Want your mouth on me.”

I freeze, momentarily overwhelmed by his request. I’ve been waiting for him to ask, and it sounded even better than I imagined it would. I sit back to put some space between us so I can see his face, wanting to be sure we’re thinking the same thing. “Where?”

“Everywhere.” His hands go to the waistband of his briefs, and it’s all I can do to keep breathing as he pulls them down, the dark material twisting over his thighs in his haste and kicks them away.

Everything about Nikko is beautiful in a way I have no words to describe, and seeing him naked in front of me is like trying to adequately appreciate the greatest work of art I’ve ever laid eyes on. The expanse of bare skin, the soft lines and hard angles of his body, and the heavy, hooded gaze he’s giving me make me feel desperate to taste him. My eyes linger over his cock, flushed pink and curving toward his stomach, as perfect as the rest of him.

I ponder taking my own clothes off for about half a second but realize I can’t wait anymore with Nikko watching me expectantly, biting his lip. Sinking to my knees at the edge of the bed, I grab his waist and pull him toward me, making him gasp in surprise. “Are you okay?” I check before I let my hands slip any lower.

He nods so rapidly it’s almost comical. “Yes.Yes.”

His legs fall further open, making more room for me. My heart pounds wildly at the easy way he offers himself up, trusting me to take care of him.

As I wrap my fingers lightly around his length and give him a few loose strokes, he groans. I’m not sure whether it’s solely from the contact or the dry slide, but I’m not going to tease him much. I’m guessing this first time will not last all that long, and I want to make it as good as I can for him.

Bowing my head, I suck the tip of his cock into my mouth, using my hand to grip the base a little more firmly. Nikko whines, a tremble running through his body as he shudders. Taking him in deeper, I let my tongue slide over him, tracing each vein and ridge, mapping his reactions as I go, savoring each hiss and quiver.

I glance up at him and see his white-knuckle grip on the sheets, eyes squeezed shut, like it’s all too much, too good, and I’ve barely gotten started. I bob my head once, twice, and his hips jerk, his hand flying to my head, fingers tangling in my hair.

“Jase,” he pants. “Please. Please more.”

He sounds wrecked already, but I want to draw this out as long as I can, for both of us. I back off, letting him slip out of my mouth, and begin to work my hand over him, slowly, pausing to swipe my thumb over the head, gathering the droplets there and spreading the wetness around.

I nip at the juncture of his hips, drop lower to bite at his inner thighs, thrilled by each broken moan and the wail that escapes as I trace my tongue across his balls, drawing them each into my mouth in turn.

Nikko inhales sharply as I swallow him down again and begin to hum, his whole body tensing, and I know he’s right there. It only takes a twist of my wrist and the hollowing of my cheeks as I pull back, and he’s coming, chanting my name while he spills down my throat.

I see him watching as I lick my lips, and he reaches for me, grabbing at my shoulders to get me closer to him. “Kiss me,” he pleads, voice shaky as his ragged breathing.

The surprise must be evident on my face because he immediately lets go. “Is that not… I am sorry…”

I’m up and leaning over to kiss him to cut off his words, his worries, but I keep it chaste. He doesn’t though, licking into my mouth like he’s curious about the taste of himself that he finds there. When he breaks the kiss, looking at me in a daze, I explain, “Some guys don’t like to kiss after their partner swallows. I didn’t want you to think it was gross.”

He looks at me, perplexed. “I do not understand. You did that for me, why would I not want to kiss you?”

“I don’t mind it, either,” I say, shrugging. I wonder suddenly if it will bother him that I’ve indirectly mentioned being with other guys, but he seems very unconcerned with that detail. Instead, he appears to try to be figuring out the logistics of something involving me and the mattress. “What… what’s going on here?”

“I want…” He stops talking, moving to straddle my thighs. Putting his hands on my belt buckle, he continues, “I want to touch you.”

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