Chapter Text
“Please take your seats! The show will be starting in a few minutes,” a performer in a wetsuit blared through a microphone
“I don’t see Seungho! Where did he go?” Nakyum checked his phone. No new messages. He tried calling. No answer. “I need to go look for him!”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Luna said. “He is old enough to take care of himself. What are you so worried about?”
“It’s not like him to just wander off without saying anything!”
“Maybe he had to use the restroom or had to take an important phone call. The show is only twenty minutes long. We can look for your friend afterward.”
“He’s not just my friend!” Nakyum exclaimed. “He’s my boyfriend and we’re on our first date! I can’t just leave him behind! I’m sorry. I got to go!” Luna’s mouth fell open, speechless, but Nakyum didn’t care to explain. He pushed past the long line of people filing inside. “Excuse me! Coming through!”
Nakyum swept through the different exhibits, eyes scanning the growing crowds for Seungho, and then the bathrooms, but no luck. At last, he headed inside the gift shop, and there Seungho was, browsing a rack of keychains.
“Seungho!” Nakyum grabbed his arm. “There you are! You scared me!”
The older boy turned around and pressed a soft penguin plushie into Nakyum’s arms. “Here. I bought this for you. Isn’t it cute?” he said as if nothing unusual had happened. “Did the show finish already? Should we get souvenirs?” Seungho perused a shelf of random knick-knacks without turning to acknowledge Nakyum.
“Why did you leave without saying anything?” Nakyum demanded, bewildered by Seungho’s strange behavior.
“How do you know I didn’t say anything? Maybe you simply didn’t hear me.” Seungho shook a glittery snowglobe and then put it back.
“You should’ve tried harder then! Why are you acting so weird? Why aren’t you looking at me? We’re having a conversation.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m perfectly capable of multitasking,” he replied, now occupying himself with the sea turtle paperweights.
Nakyum felt helpless in the face of Seungho’s cold indifference. He fidgeted with his sleeves, face growing hot as the tears built up behind his eyes. “I-I don’t get it, Seungho. I can’t tell what you’re thinking at all.”
Of course, you wouldn’t. That would require a level of empathy you do not possess or care to cultivate.”
“What does that mean?” Nakyum asked, stunned.
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve known better. Unless I go out of my way to monopolize your attention, you completely forget I exist, but that’s not your fault either. Object permanence has never been your strong suit. You’re like a goldfish—I wonder if they have any here?” The cruel words gutted Nakyum. And still, Seungho would not look at him.
Why was Seungho being so mean? He just didn’t understand!
“I-I—” Nakyum stammered.
“Let me guess? ‘I hate you? ’” Seungho sneered, finally turning to face him—and with such unkind eyes, it hurt. “So childish.”
“Screw you!” Nakyum threw the plush penguin at Seungho’s head and stormed out of the gift shop.
“Nakyum! Where do you think you’re going?”
Nakyum picked up the pace. As he marched past the line of taxis, a driver in a cap called out, “Young man! Do you need a ride?” Without a second thought, Nakyum hopped in and gave his address.
“Nakyum! Hey! Nakyum!” Seungho shouted.
The cab sped off. Nakyum turned to see Seungho standing on the asphalt curb with a terrified expression, the penguin toy under one arm. Serves him right, Nakyum thought as he wiped the wet corners of his eyes with his fingers.
His phone started buzzing, so Nakyum set it on silent before shoving it back into his pocket. As they pulled onto the main streets, self-righteousness changed into doubt. Nakyum chewed on his fingernail.
Why had Seungho acted that way? It wasn’t like him at all. Something must’ve happened. What if Nakyum has been in the wrong? Everything had been fine until Moon Luna showed up. Maybe… maybe Seungho had felt ignored? Was that it? Nakyum furrowed his brow. His gut wrenched at the thought that he might’ve hurt Seungho, even if unintentionally. But if Nakyum had hurt him, why couldn’t Seungho just tell him?
Nakyum continued mulling it over in his brain until he noticed they had gotten on the highway. He watched the passing overhead signs with growing confusion. They were heading in the opposite direction of his house.
“Sir! We’re not going the right way. You want to take northbound, not southbound!” Nakyum said.
“Is that right? My apologies. Must’ve taken the wrong ramp. Oh, looks like I missed the turn-off for this exit. Next one. I’ll take the next one.”
Nakyum crossed his arms. What’s with cab drivers always pulling these shady stunts?
The next exit led them through winding hills covered in thick tree canopies. Nakyum’s annoyance gave way to anxiety when many minutes passed and the driver had not returned to the highway. They were driving farther away into more isolated paths. His stomach coiled with dread. Something was terribly wrong.
Nakyum pulled out his phone and messaged Seungho, frightened. He wanted to type out the driver’s name and license number but realized the usual information placard usually displayed in cabs was missing.
Nakyum wrote: “I think there’s something wrong with my cab…” and hit send, but it didn’t go through. No signal.
“Excuse me, sir, I don’t think this is the right way.” Nakyum tried to keep his voice even and calm.
“Don’t worry, it’s a shortcut,” the man replied.
“Please let me out right now!” Nakyum said. “Where are we going? Who are you?”
“Pipe down, we’ll be there soon."
“I’m going to call the police!”
The man barked with laughter. “Sorry to tell you kid, but I’ve got a signal jammer. You’re not calling anyone. If you sit still and don’t try anything stupid, not a hair on your head will be harmed.”
Nakyum tried the door. It was locked with no way to unlock it. If there hadn’t been a plexiglass barrier between the front and backseats Nakyum would have attacked the driver, but as it was, he was helpless to prevent his own kidnapping. The roads grew ever steeper and more narrow as they headed deeper into the rural hillside.
The car was so old it did not have an electronic button for the windows, but a manual crank. Nakyum rolled down the window as fast as he could, undid his seatbelt, and climbed out. Wind blasted his face.
“Hey! I told you not to do anything stupid! Get down from there!” The car jerked. The man cried out as the car screeched and scraped against the metal barrier between the asphalt and the cliffs. The sudden impact flung Nakyum’s dangling body out of the car, over the barrier, and down the dirt hills. Nakyum screamed, shielding his head as he barreled down.
He rolled and rolled. Nakyum tried to relax his body and protect his neck. It was not his first tumble down a slope, which happened while sledding, but that had been on evenly paved snow. Here the slope was sharp and bumpy with rocks, jutting tree roots, and shrubbery.
It felt like he had been rolling for a long time, but it couldn’t have been more than ten seconds until a sturdy and large bush broke his fall. He rolled once more and came to a stop. Nakyum groaned. Everything hurt. He felt like he had just taken a spin in a washing machine with a boulder. He kept his eyes shut until the dizziness passed. When he opened them again, he realized he was lying flat on his back, diagonal to the incline, and with his head lower than his feet. The sky was cloudy but still blue.
Nakyum checked his joints. His bones were intact. His ankle felt a little wonky and he was bruised and cut all over, but otherwise, he was alright. He checked his pockets.
He had his wallet, but his phone was gone. It must’ve slipped out during the fall. No way would he be able to find it now. And even if someone tried to call him, his phone was on silent.
Nakyum looked up. He really had fallen a long way down. It was a miracle he didn’t break in half on the many trees growing along the cliffside. He tried to get onto his feet but winced. His ankle wouldn’t allow even the smallest bit of weight on it.
With nothing else to do and nothing else he could do, Nakyum began to feel very sorry for himself. He scooted over to a tree, rested his back against the scratchy bark, and waited. Cars passed overhead, but he was too scared to call for help. What if the cab driver was looking for him? Nakyum doubted the man would scale the cliff to find him, but he could drive to lower ground and search for him that way. Anything was possible.
Nakyum cried from frustration and the physical and emotional trauma of being kidnapped and falling out of a moving car. He was hungry, thirsty, and in awful pain. The sun was setting fast and soon it would also be dark and cold.
It was all Seungho’s fault! If only he hadn’t been so mean!
But when the tears dried, it was hard to stay mad at Seungho when he missed him so much. What if they never saw one another again? What if the police never found him and he starved to death or got eaten by a bear? Nakyum was blue at the thought of Seungho learning of his demise and blaming it on himself. He cried all over again imagining how heartbroken Seungho and his family would be.
“It’s all my fault!” Nakyum sniffled and wiped his face. He should’ve never run off and gotten into some random stranger’s car.
Nakyum couldn’t just continue to sit here and do nothing. He had to save himself and come back alive if only to tell Seungho he wasn’t to blame. He had never even gotten the chance to tell Seungho how much he loved him.
Nakyum took a deep breath and climbed onto his feet. He found a long fallen branch to support his bum ankle as he searched for his phone. Where could it be?
Sunset gave way to evening and Nakyum was beginning to lose hope. The growing shadows made him uneasy. Every noise—a crinkle of leaves, a snap of a branch—made him freeze and swivel his head back and forth to make sure there wasn’t anyone or anything trying to creep up behind him.
Soon it would be too dark to even see his phone, but then an idea hit him. It was so obvious he felt silly for not having thought of it earlier.
He had an iPhone!
“Hey Siri!” Nakyum called out through the woodlands.
He kept walking and calling for Siri until he heard the familiar two beeps. In the murky blue twilight, he saw the bright glow of his LED screen caught in an overgrown thicket. Nakyum hobbled over and retrieved it from the brambles, heart racing from the adrenaline of relief. The screen was cracked but it still worked.
No signal. Nakyum walked around, holding his phone like a dowsing rod until he discovered a single bar. Notifications flooded his phone. With unsteady hands, Nakyum called Seungho. He was ready to tell the older boy all about the kidnapping and his daring escape, but as soon as he heard Seungho’s voice, Nakyum burst into tears.
“Nakyum! Where are you? Nakyum? Are you hurt? Are you in danger?” Seungho’s voice was stricken with fear.
“Seungho!” He cried in gulping sobs. No! It wasn’t time to act like a baby! Nakyum took a few heaving breaths to calm down. “I-I’m okay. I’m not hurt but I think I sprained my ankle. I don’t know where I am. I climbed out of the cab and I-I fell down the hill and I’m still here—” Nakyum then remembered the exit the driver had taken so told him.
“Are you by yourself?”
“I think so.”
“Stay where you are,” Seungho said. “I’ll tell the police. Nakyum I’ll be right—” But the call went dead as the signal was suddenly lost. Nakyum was devastated to lose Seungho’s voice, but he wasn’t too worried. With the signal Seungho should be able to track the location of his device, so he sat down and waited.
Before long the police came with flashlights. They asked him a few questions about his injuries and since he didn’t need to go to the hospital they took him down to the station where his family waited. As soon as the car pulled up, his parents and sister came running over to embrace him.
“Oh, my little monkey!”
“You big idiot!” Heena scolded, eyes full of tears.
“Stop! That tickles!” Nakyum said as his mom showered him with kisses. “Don’t cry, everyone! I’m fine!” Everyone looked so worried, Nakyum felt the need to put on a big smile to calm them down.
“I’m so glad you’re safe, son!” his father said.
“You must’ve been so scared! Oh, my baby!” His mother sobbed as she continued patting and hugging him.
“Mom, I’m fine! Really!”
Besides his family, all he saw were police officers. “Where’s Seungho?” Nakyum asked, but everyone was so overwhelmed with emotion, they didn’t hear him.
The police made him go into the station to file a report. He spent an hour answering questions while a criminal sketch artist made a portrait based on his description. By the end of it, he was exhausted. His parents took him to a clinic to take a look at his ankle. As expected, it wasn't broken but badly sprained. The nurse wrapped it up, gave him an ice pack and crutches. They ordered pizza and strawberry cheesecake (Nakyum’s guilty pleasure combo), but while sitting on the couch waiting for the delivery, Nakyum began to doze off.
“Where’s Seungho?” Nakyum mumbled, head drooping.
“I told him to go home tonight. It’s been a long day for him. He was tearing his hair out about your disappearance. He felt so bad he begged for our forgiveness and even tried to resign.”
“He can’t!” Nakyum jerked awake. “Where’s my phone? I have to tell him it’s not his fault!” Nakyum called Seungho numerous times, but nothing. “Why isn’t he answering?”
“He’s probably as exhausted as you are and dead asleep. You can go see him tomorrow. Really! How could he let you just jump into a random cab like that?”
“We were fighting and I was being stubborn. He would’ve stopped me if he could,” Nakyum replied, feeling defensive. “It was my fault for not thinking.”
“But he should know you’re an airhead who doesn’t think before acting!”
“Now Heena, calm down,” his mother said. “Seungho’s practically a kid himself. They were hanging out as friends, not as a client and bodyguard. You can’t expect him to be alert for every potential crisis, especially not when the little monkey starts hooting and howling and making a menace of himself.” His mother tickled Nakyum’s chin to show she meant no offense. “But honestly, you two boys bicker so terribly. You shouldn’t be too willful Nakyum, though Seungho should’ve known better.”
“None of it is Seungho’s fault and I won’t sit here and listen to anyone talk bad about him!” Nakyum cried in a passionate outburst. “And Seungho’s not my friend or bodyguard or servant! We’re dating! He’s my boyfriend!”
They all stared at him, frozen stock still. His father, who had been sipping coffee from a mug, almost spilled it all over his lap. Heena was the first to speak. “I knew it! I knew you two were into each other!” She crossed her arms and sat down with a triumphant humph. His parents exchanged concerned looks, but coming out to his family had none of the drama Nakyum expected.
His mother was disappointed. “I really thought you and Luna would’ve made such a good couple. You two would’ve had the cutest kids!”
“Son, I wish you would’ve said something!” his father said with a nervous laugh. “Now I feel a little ashamed. Mr. Moon and I were practically planning you and his daughter’s marriage and future at the office right in front of him!” He slapped a hand over his face. “I remember just the other day we were talking about how we’d split the expenses for the wedding and honeymoon trip.”
“You were trying to set me up with Luna?” Nakyum was taken aback.
“Monkey, you didn’t realize it was a blind date?”
“No…”
Heena sighed. “You better set things straight with Seungho tomorrow! Though I still maintain it’s partially Seungho’s fault for spoiling you so terribly.”
“I will! I don’t need you to tell me,” Nakyum grumbled, feeling peeved that he was the only one who hadn’t been aware of this marriage scheme. “And Seungho doesn’t spoil me!”
“He spoils you worse than mom and dad.” Their parents exchanged sheepish looks but made no excuses.
“No way! Seungho really doesn’t spoil me! He always makes fun of me and never lets me have what I want!”
Heena rolled her eyes while their parents chuckled. “Oh don’t act like this carrot and stick dynamic you both have is anything other than theatrics to add a little drama to the young master and loyal retainer game you’ve both been playing since childhood. Oh, remember when Nakyum was around seven or so and he wouldn’t take off that toy crown? You told Seungho that as long as you had it on, he had to do as you say, and oh the terrible screaming matches you both had!”
His mother laughed. “Oh yes! At the time Seungho started judo so he stopped coming by our house as often. The fits of weeping that ensued! I didn’t even know where he got the crown. Did you buy it for him, honey?”
“It wasn’t me,” his father said.
“It was Seungho!” Heena exclaimed. “Remember? He was cast as a King in some school play and when it was over, he gave the crown to Nakyum as a joke for acting like a spoiled little prince. Nakyum, being seven and having no sense of irony, thought that as long as he wore the crown, he could demand whatever he wanted.”
“Monkey you were so cute with your oversized crown and Pororo blankie tied around your neck,” his mother interjected.
His father nodded. “Remember how he would run around with a wooden spoon thinking it was his royal scepter?” His parents both laughed.
Heena sighed. “Problem was, Seungho had this awful habit of teasing Nakyum when he made his childish demands, but after a lot of pouting, foot-stamping, and tears, Seungho always gave in. I’m sure it was from watching those two that Seungwon turned out to be such a considerate and mature kid. Poor boy. He was always your third wheel as kids.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember that!” Nakyum said, turning red to the ears from embarrassment.
The doorbell rang, signaling the deliveryman and putting an end to the topic.
Nakyum planned to call Seungho again later but three bites of pepperoni pizza and he was knocked out cold.
Nakyum slept for sixteen hours straight. He woke up groggy and aching all over. After drinking a liter of water and stuffing his face with cheesecake, he tried calling Seungho once more. No answer. He tried two more times before calling Mr. Yoon, who said his son was most likely resting at home. Nakyum asked for the address of his new apartment and had the Baek family valet drive him over.
They stopped in a quiet neighborhood next to a small park where elders practiced tai-chi and nannies brought their kids to play. Seungho lived in a mildly run-down building without gates, guards, concierge service, or even a functional elevator. Seungho mercifully lived on the second floor of five. Even so, Nakyum balked at climbing all those stairs with his injured ankle, but after surviving a kidnapping, he could endure one more hardship if only to make this journey all the more heroic and romantic.
After all this effort, Seungho had better not accuse Nakyum of not caring about him!
So he made the arduous climb—hop actually—up the creaky wooden stairs. He was out of breath by the time he reached the second floor.
Nakyum knocked and button-mashed the bell at the same time. Seungho opened the door, at first irritated and then shocked.
And just by seeing Seungho’s face all of Nakyum’s fighting spirit left him. “Seungho, I’m tired and thirsty. I had to jump up all those stairs because the elevator’s broken and you wouldn’t answer the phone and I—” And for reasons Nakyum didn’t know himself, he began to cry, but when Seungho swept him into his arms in a tight hug and carried him inside Nakyum was beginning to understand Heena’s bizarre rant last night.
Seungho set him down on the sofa next to the penguin plushie from the aquarium. Nakyum took it onto his lap. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
The apartment was small and sparse. There wasn’t even a TV in the living room. The walls were bare too, except for a few framed pictures. Nakyum almost gasped. They were all his paintings, and even the casual sketches he had given Seungho because he didn’t care to keep it for himself.
When Seungho handed him a carton of banana milk with the plastic straw already inserted, Nakyum experienced a profound revelation about their relationship. He sipped his drink and noticed the anxious clenching of Seungho’s hands on his lap and the heavy sag of his shoulders. Seungho kept his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, refusing to meet Nakyum’s eyes.
Heena was right.
They had been playing as young master and servant for so long they didn’t know how to act any other way with one another. Seungho spoiled him and Nakyum let himself be spoiled, and if Seungho was mean or withholding it was all part of their game. If Nakyum was temporarily denied, it was only to make giving in all the sweeter.
And when Nakyum cried or acted upset and scared, Seungho hugged and consoled him, but the recent events had flipped the board and neither of them knew how to behave when the roles were reversed.
Nakyum saw it clearly now. Seungho was now the one upset and scared, over his own helplessness to prevent the kidnapping or even over the possibility of losing him to Moon Luna. He didn’t know how to ask Nakyum for reassurance, most likely hadn’t even considered asking for it, and Nakyum, in turn, had never imagined Seungho could be anything other than calm and capable. It wasn’t how they knew one another and it wasn't part of the script.
Nakyum put his banana milk down and got up. Seungho also stood up in response. “Is there anything you need? I can get it for you so sit down.”
Nakyum hopped over to him and pushed Seungho back down onto the armchair before sitting down across Seungho’s lap. He steadied himself by wrapping his arms around Seungho’s neck. “You didn’t get to hear the heroic story of how I escaped the kidnapper.”
Seungho inhaled sharply as if he felt physical pain. “I’m sorry,” he said in a broken voice. “I shouldn’t have let you—I should’ve—I thought I would never—” Seungho swallowed, jaw clenched, and shut his eyes. Nakyum could feel the tremors running through Seungho’s body as if he were holding back a great wave of emotion. Those large strong hands now clung to Nakyum with the desperation of a small child. Nakyum massaged his thumb over the wrinkle in Seungho’s furrowed brow.
“It’s not your fault. I was the one who jumped into the first cab who called out to me without looking first. Don’t be sad. I’m fine now.”
Seungho shook his head but said nothing. Nakyum tightened his hug. It broke his heart to see Seungho so frail and vulnerable and be able to do nothing about it. How could he get Seungho to stop blaming himself?
“When I was hurt and alone in the woods, all I could think about was you and because of that I wasn’t scared,” Nakyum said. “And it wasn’t because I thought that no matter what happened you would find me—even though I didn’t doubt for a second you would. The reason I wasn’t scared was that I knew I would also do whatever it takes to come back to you—even if I had to fight off a hundred kidnappers and man-eating bears.”
Seungho finally looked at him. “Man-eating bears?”
“I’m not saying there were bears, but I’m not saying there weren’t,” Nakyum said. “So instead of being sad, you should praise me for being so brave.”
“You were very brave,” Seungho said with a small smile.
“Do you know who really saved me?”
“Who?”
“Siri when I lost my phone.”
Seungho laughed a little, but Nakyum felt it wasn’t quite enough to make Seungho feel better. Nakyum reached into his jean pocket and pulled out the last wish card from his wallet. “What can I do for you now, young master?” Seungho asked.
“I want you to tell me your deepest wish so I can grant it.”
“That’s not how it works—”
“I’m holding the wish card so you have to do as I say!” Nakyum told him with a stubborn pout.
“Then I wish the young master will always be safe.”
“Rejected! You can’t wish for something that only God can make happen. You have to wish for something I can actually give you.”
Seungho sighed. “But will you actually grant it?”
“If I can, I will. Just tell me. It can be as silly or as selfish as you want. If you want me to put on a wig and do an idol girl dance, I’ll do it. If you want me to prank call every pizza chain in the neighborhood I’ll do that too. If you want me to go away and never talk to you again, I’ll do it, but I’ll be really sad.”
“I would never wish for that. Never.”
“Then what do you wish for? Tell me.”
“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you,” Seungho said in a low voice and eyes full of longing.
“But you already have me. I’m right here in your arms, aren’t I?” Nakyum cupped Seungho’s face, and yet still Seungho looked at him as if he were far away.
Seungho’s lashes fluttered and his face filled with apprehension as if he were going to confess to some mortal sin. “I wish… I wish you were as crazy about me as I am about you. I wish you loved me as deeply as I love you. I wish you were mine and mine alone.” Seungho’s pleading expression, so innocent and vulnerable—like a lonely child clinging to a shirtsleeve—made Nakyum’s heart swell with affection. The feeling bubbled over and Nakyum couldn’t help but laugh.
“Is that all? That’s so easy I’ll grant you all three!” Delighted by Seungho’s stunned expression, Nakyum giggled with joy. “You’re mine! You’re all mine!” Nakyum peppered Seungho’s face with kisses and then one on the lips to seal the deal. “And I’m yours, Yoon Seungho, so you better not think otherwise ever again! I told Luna and my family you’re my boyfriend and I’ll tell the whole world if I have to!”
“You came out?”
“I think it’s easier. I think you know better than anyone I suck at lying and hiding my feelings.”
Seungho smiled ever so slightly, so different from the dazzling charisma he usually projected—this was a genuine smile, at least for Seungho, because it was reluctant and so small he might not have even felt his cheeks move. A quiet smile such as the ones made unknowingly in private places.
“I love you, Yoon Seungho,” Nakyum said. “When I was in the woods, that’s all I could think about.”
“I love you too. God, you have no idea how terrified I was. Please don’t ever jump into a random car again.”
“I’ll try, and in return, if there’s something wrong you have to tell me. Like the Luna thing. If I didn’t even realize my parents were trying to marry us off, there’s no way I would’ve known the two of us spending time together would make you feel bad. You can make selfish demands too.”
Seungho let out a wary laugh. “I’m greedier and more unreasonable than you can imagine. I’m also not as cool and mature as you think I am.”
Nakyum smiled and kissed Seungho on the cheek. “Then we’re in the same boat.” Nakyum snuggled against him, bringing his face close. “Well?” he asked impatiently.
“Well, what?”
“The credits can’t roll if you don’t kiss me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but…” Seungho gave him a short and disappointingly chaste kiss—just like the ones at the end of romance dramas. Nakyum wasn’t at all satisfied.
“Not like that!”
“Then like what?”
“Can’t you do it like last time?”
“Like last time? Refresh my memory.” A roguish smile full of that dazzling charisma spread over Seungho’s lips. Nakyum’s pulse quickened and his stomach fluttered.
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he complained.
Seungho sighed and buried his nose in the crook of Nakyum’s neck. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but god you smell good enough to eat.”
“You can eat me if you like.” But as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Nakyum went red to the ears. When did he become so perverse? Nakyum covered his burning cheeks with the excess sleeve of his sweater. It was Seungho’s fault! That sultry smile! Those hooded bedroom eyes! They did things to him!
“My, my, what a scandalous and very tempting offer, but...” Seungho said.
“But?”
Seungho let out an aggrieved sigh. “Your parents would kill me if I lay my hands on you before you graduate. And you’re injured. You should be resting.”
Nakyum pouted. “No one has to know. It can be our secret.”
Seungho laughed. “What a tease you are. Didn’t you just confess to being a terrible secret-keeper? The world would know from just one look at you.”
“How would they know?”
“Well…” Seungho drew Nakyum in for a deep and passionate kiss that left Nakyum feeling a little light-headed and out of breath. He whined when Seungho pulled away. “You have no idea how turned on and erotic you look right now, and just from a kiss. It makes me want to devour every inch of you.” Seungho cupped Nakyum’s face with one hand and stroked his heated cheek with a thumb. The desire in his eyes gave way to caring affection. “But you were just kidnapped yesterday. Let’s take it slow. I don’t want to hurt you—or scare you again.”
He hated to admit it, but Seungho was right. The sex in the BL comics seemed so aggressive and painful with all the hard thrusting and limbs twisted into impossible poses. He was also scared to death of actual penetration. Nakyum didn’t like things that hurt, and it certainly would if they did it right now while he was covered in cuts and bruises that ached under the slightest pressure.
“How about your birthday?” Nakyum asked as a compromise. “For your birthday I’ll grant you three wishes, and you can ask for all the naughty stuff you like.”
Seungho snorted. “My birthday, huh? And when would that be?”
Nakyum gasped loudly. “Oh no, I forgot!”
He laughed. “I’ll just have to keep reminding you then.” Seungho kissed him again. And again. And again. Unhurried. Gentle. And if it could be called sweet, it was the sweetness of new beginnings and of wishes fulfilled.