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LUX
(four years ago)
He looks powerful.
That’s the first thing I notice when he walks in. Even though he’s young—like, way younger than the rest of the executives we work with—he still makes everyone pay attention. He’s dressed more casually, too, with the top buttons of his pearl grey shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up.
He’ssohandsome. Tall, sharp features. Just the right mix of masculine and something more. It makes my heart catch in my throat.
Nikko’s got his legs crossed, sitting close enough that he can tap my thigh with the toe of his shoe, and he does, like he’s caught me staring and is telling me to stop. I know he’s the only one who would have noticed. He’s been my best friend since we were assigned to be bunkmates at the very beginning of our trainee days and he took the top one because I was afraid of rolling off in the middle of the night.
Not that it ever really mattered because more often than not we both ended up in Lalo-hyung’s bed, curled around him on either side, like bookends. Sometimes, on nights when we were really overwhelmed, Nikko and I would hold hands, our fingerstangled together over Lalo’s back, caging him in with our need for comfort. He never seemed to mind, always throwing back the covers on his single mattress to let us climb in.
Lalo rooms with Chita now, and I’ll stay with Nikko as long as I can. I feel comfortable with him in a way that I’ve never been with anyone else. Like he understands me even when I don’t say anything.
Which is how I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking right now, watching thisincrediblysexy man at the front of the room. I’ve never specifically told Nikko my preferences, but I’ve never felt like I had to, and he’s never asked. My whole life has been full of people assuming they know what I like—just deciding that I’m gay because of the way I look or act—and I’ve never bothered to confirm or deny any of it. Whose business is it anyhow?
I’d talk about it with Nikko, of course, if he wanted to. But I think he knows what he needs to, and that’s enough for both of us.
I wonder sometimes, if I should just say the words. Tell the members what they probably already suspect. I know they’d accept me. There has never been an unkind or disrespectful word uttered in this group about anyone’s sexuality. Their support of Nikko coming out was complete, as was their lack of reaction upon Lalo’s casual mention that gender was a non-issue for him when it came to attraction. Maybe I’m not showing them the same kind of trust by not gathering them around to announce I’ve never been interested in girls and that every ‘baby’ I’ve ever sung has been about another boy in my head.
I can practically still hear my grandmother’s disapproval, her traditional beliefs, ringing in my ears. I can feel my father’s disappointment, that not only does his son love to sing and dance, but he also loves men. There are reasons I keep this all to myself.
But as I look atthisman, leaning easily against the table,taking up space in a way that I could never imagine doing, I don’t want to keep these feelings creeping through me from taking hold.
I listen as he speaks. His voice is warm and rich, and reminds me of honey in the summer. He says his name is Kim Kija. He’ll be working with us “closely” as we promote our new release, our second album. I want to askhowclosely. Probably not as close as I’d like.
I can’t help but imagine beingcloseto him. Pressed up against him. That stern look on his face directed at me as I go to my knees for him. He’d be patient with my inexperience and teach me what he likes—how to please him. And I would. I’d eagerly learn how to give him exactly what he needs.
Nikko bumps me again, harder this time, and I wonder what my face has given away. I fold my hands in front of me and let my gaze wander over Kija’s shoulder, trying to remain impassive and expressionless.
I’m only successful until he smiles.
And then I am lost completely.
??
As I slip into bed, Nikko is already fast asleep. He’s only an arm’s length away from me, our mattresses as far apart as they can be in this tiny room we share. Even with him that close, I still can’t think of anything but Kija. In the week that’s gone by since I first saw him, I haven’t been able to keep my mind off of him.
After sweet talking to some of the stylists, I learn that Kim Kija is not new to Task Force, and I am disappointed that we could have seen each other a hundred times before but somehow have not. He was traveling, working in other places with other groups, while I was locked away in training rooms nearlyall day, every day. Now that our paths have crossed, it feels like fate.
I have had crushes before and fleeting moments where a beautiful boy caught my eye and I indulged myself in a fantasy of a stolen kiss or being touched by a hand that wasn’t my own. With each brief flicker of attraction, though, it died quickly. Quietly. I likely never thought of them again. No one ever held my interest for long.
But this, though—Kija has been occupying every single second that I am not actively engaged in something that requires my total attention. And even then, every time I pause for a breath, a sip of water, he is there again.
Ryo-hyung complained just last night that I was taking too long in the shower lately, teasing me about what I might be doing in there. While he was very much correct in assuming what the extra minutes have been devoted to, I attempted to laugh it off as if I’d been trying all the new products gifted to us by a skincare line we are supposed to be doing ads for. Nevermind that I haven’t even taken any of them out of the box yet.
Nikko stirs suddenly, distracting me. He snuffles under his covers for a moment before slowly sitting up. He grunts in acknowledgement when he sees me awake and slides off his mattress, padding out of the room without a word.
With Nikko gone, I sink back into my fantasy about Kija. I can still hear the sound of his voice echoing in my ears as my fingers slide down over my abs to slip beneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts. I don’t know how long Nikko will be gone, so I need to be fast. But thinking about Kija, that won’t be a problem.
Needy is the only way I can describe how I feel. I have definitely taken advantage of being the youngest, being doted on, being taken care of by the older members, but this is a kind of deep ache that feels like nothing I have ever known.
Iwanthim.
I want him toruinme. To give him everything and let him take whatever he wants from me.
