Page 58 of Teach Me K-Pop

“Fuck,” I breathe, aching for relief now that he’s in my lap. It had been easy to ignore how hard I was with the weight of him on my tongue, but now it’s impossible. “I want you to. Anything you want,naekkeo.”

I almost don’t realize what’s happened until I see Nikko’s expression—his eyes wide, mouth opened in this sweet little “o” shape. The word is so close to his name, it was an easy slip, but it’s not untrue, if not entirely grammatically correct. He ismine, as much as he can be. He’s clearly more than happy about it, grabbing my face in his hands and kissing me deeply.

“Yes, yours,” he whispers against my neck once he’s back to trying to get my pants off. “Say it again.”

“Naekkeo,” I repeat, running my fingers through his silky hair. Leaning back and lifting my hips, I let him tug my jeans and boxers off. He doesn’t hesitate, just pulls them down, barely giving me a chance to kick them off before he’s hovering over me again, staring at my cock. It’s obvious I’m bigger than him, but not in any kind of way that should seem intimidating. I tilt his chin up to look at me. “You can do whatever you want, but you don’t have to do anything.”

“I know. But I want to,” Nikko tells me, tentatively skimming his fingers back and forth between my hip bones. He meets my eyes, and holds contact for a moment before giving me a shy smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “Teach me.”

I grin back at him, his choice of words. “What do you want to know?”

“What you like,” he murmurs against my lips as he dips closer to kiss me again. ”How to make you feel good.”

Despite the fact that he came not even ten minutes ago, his own cock is starting to rally, and the idea of taking us both in hand appeals to me very much, but I want to give him the time and opportunity to do anything he likes. “Do you have any lube?”

He shakes his head. “Should I?”

“Not necessarily. What about lotion?” I don’t understand enough about the extensive list of products they all use to know what they are, but I would think there should be some sort of basic slippery liquid in the repertoire. When he says yes, I ask him to get it, and he scrambles off the bed, giving me the chance to watch him as he hurries into the bathroom. He is truly a vision naked—his body is strong, his ass perky, and I very much enjoy the view as he disappears, then comes back.

Squirting a generous amount of something from a sleek green bottle out into his palm, he tentatively takes my cock in his hand, adjusting his hold a few times until he seems comfortable. “It is strange. This angle, I mean,” he giggles.

“It is at first, I know,” I agree. I wrap my hand over his, letting him know he doesn’t have to be so timid and help him establish some kind of a rhythm. “Just like that.”

He has an adorably fierce look of concentration on his face, like this is such serious business for him and he wants to get it just right. Between that, the way he keeps biting his lip, and knowing that it’shishand moving on my cock, I’m already halfway to falling apart. I let go of him and sink back into the pillows, watching his fist slide over me.

“Is this good?” he asks, sounding nervous as he changes the pace a little.

“Anything you do is great, because it’s you—” I start to tell him, my words swallowed by a moan as he experimentally tightens around me, squeezing in gentle pulses. “Yeah, yep, yes. That’sgood.”

He giggles again, pleased with my reaction. His other hand that has been resting on my thigh reaches over, and he slowly swipes a finger over the head of my cock, collecting the pearly beads and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue darts out like a cat, lapping at his fingertip, and I almost whimper, watching the satisfied smirk on his lips. “I like the way you taste.”

“Nikko…” I groan. He’s going to kill me. This will be where I expire, but honestly, I’m fine with that. I’ll die happy. So damn happy.

Looking downright devious, he bows his head to press a kiss to the tip of my cock, and that’s when I lose it. I don’t even have time to warn him before there’s come splattering my stomach, his hand, his chin, and his cheek. I start to apologize, embarrassed, when he throws his head back, laughing delightedly. He’s absolutely beaming, like he’s really proud of himself and this turn of events.

All I can think is that I am completely, hopelessly crazy about him. Everything he does just makes me like him more, fall for him that much harder. Maybe it’s a weird time for a wave of affection, but he is the hottest—also the cutest—and sweetest human I have ever encountered, and I want to keep him as long as I can. Is it too soon to feel like forever would be approximately the right amount of time?

Nikko reaches for one of our abandoned items of clothing—I think it’s my shirt—and uses it to clean his face. He looks at me, sincerity suddenly all over his expression. “I am glad it is you I am here with,” he says, quietly, a hint of shyness creeping back into his tone. “I would not want to have these experiences, do these things with anyone else.”

Maybe it’s selfish, but I wouldn’t want him to do these things with someone who wasn’t me either. I shift a little, opening my arms, and Nikko immediately curls up in my lap, taking my hands to wrap himself up just so. With his head on my shoulder, I press a light kiss to his forehead. “Me, too. Just you. Just us.”

The statement is entirely too simple, but it’s honest. I can’t imagine anything better than what I have right here, right now with him.

He sighs contentedly, snuggling against me. “Yes. Me and you.”

???

Nikko is staring out the window as I zip my suitcase, like he doesn’t want to see what I’m doing. As though that might change the fact I’m about to leave again.

Everything feels so different in the light of morning—last night’s romance seems kind of sad looking at the fake candles and discarded take-out boxes. The roses are still beautiful, but I have no idea what he’ll do with them when he has to exit the hotel later. I guess I didn’t think that part through, too caught up in wanting to make things special in the moment.

It’s so easy to not remember this part is coming—the leaving, the separating, the distance—when we’re together, excited to be able to see and touch one another in real time. I don’t even know what to say right now, because nothing is going to make it any less terrible. I wish he’d turn around.

I clear my throat, setting my bag down on the carpet. When he still doesn’t make a move, I cross the room to stand behind him, cautiously reaching out to slip my arms around his waist. I can tell now that he’s crying, can see the tear tracks down his cheek in my peripheral vision, and it makes my chest ache. “Nikko…”

“I am sorry,” he whispers, raising a hand to wipe at his eyes, but leans back against me. “I did not think it could be worse than when you left the first time, but it is.”

“I know. I hate this,” I say. In this moment, I swear I’d quit my whole life for him, just so he wouldn’t look so sad.

---