sounding miserable. "I got blood on your tablecloth."
"It's fine, let me get you a cloth." Missy sighed. "Did you two have a good discussion at least?"
*~*~*
We weren't alone together for the rest of the night. Missy patched up Kyung's finger (it turned out to be just a small cut that bled a lot) and we finished making dinner and ate. By the time the night was over, I had begun to see why Kyung's relationship with his father was frustrating. His father wasn't a talkative person, and when he did speak to Kyung, his words were short and harsh. I could tell that Kyung was used to it, and that it was just the way his father spoke, but I understood how it could be draining. But Kyung seemed to enjoy the evening regardless, laughing and joking with Alex, and thanking them repeatedly for inviting him.
When the cuckoo clock chimed ten I was standing by the wall with a glass of cider, feeling full and contended and listening to the mingled chatter of the room, when I felt a hand on my arm.
"I'm taking my father home soon," murmured Kyung. "Come with me into the spare room for a minute?"
"Would this be the spare bedroom with the mistletoe?" I asked, setting my glass down on an end table as he led me into the room and shut the door behind us.
"Do I need mistletoe?" He put his hands on my sides and pressed our bodies together. My heartbeat sped up as I remembered the last time we had been this close. I felt his breath tickle my lips and then the warm smoothness of his mouth against mine, and I pressed into him, taking his face in my hand and kissing him deeply.
We kissed roughly and passionately for a few minutes, until I thought I might come in my pants. I forced myself to break away, still cupping the side of his face. "May I?" I asked, trailing my fingers up his cheek, and he nodded.
I slid my thumb over his small, smooth mouth, and he opened it a little. I wanted to slide my thumb in, make him suck it the way he'd sucked my cock that day in the kitchen, but I resisted. Instead I trailed my fingers over his square jawline, and up over the smooth angles of his cheeks. "You're beautiful," I said, tilting his face down to kiss his forehead.
"I should go," he said, sighing as if it were the last thing he wanted. "My father might wonder where we've disappeared to."
"You'll bring me my groceries next Tuesday, right?" I asked hopefully.
"Of course," said Kyung. "But, I mean, I was hoping I could come over before that."
My heart soared. "Sure, of course, when?"
"Tonight? After I put my father to bed I can come over."
"God, really?" I'd been dreading going home alone tonight. Could he tell? "That would be great."
"All right," he leaned forward for another peck, and then slid his hand down, over the front of my pants and squeezed. I gasped, indignant, blood rushing to my cock, but he was already gone.
*~*~*
Kyung didn't arrive until late. I sat at the kitchen table until nearly one in the morning, wondering if he was coming at all, but not wanting to go to bed. I was reading one of my braille books, one I'd read a million times before, my fingers skimming over the words, barely processing them. Mostly I was thinking of Kyung, of his lips, and his hands and his body…
The doorbell rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin before rushing up to get the door.
"Hi," said Kyung, and there was a note of weariness in his voice.
"Everything all right?" I asked as he stepped in and brushed the snow off of his boots.
He didn't answer, just grabbed me and pulled me into a fierce kiss.
When we broke apart, he said, "My father asked where I was going, so I told him to see you."
"Is he angry?"
Silence for a moment. He was probably nodding again. "Yes. Sorry, I don't mean to bother you."
"You don't bother me." I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. "Come in for some coffee?" I asked finally, and he agreed.
I poured him coffee from the pot I'd made earlier and we went to the living room. I wished belatedly that I'd put up the
"It's fine, let me get you a cloth." Missy sighed. "Did you two have a good discussion at least?"
*~*~*
We weren't alone together for the rest of the night. Missy patched up Kyung's finger (it turned out to be just a small cut that bled a lot) and we finished making dinner and ate. By the time the night was over, I had begun to see why Kyung's relationship with his father was frustrating. His father wasn't a talkative person, and when he did speak to Kyung, his words were short and harsh. I could tell that Kyung was used to it, and that it was just the way his father spoke, but I understood how it could be draining. But Kyung seemed to enjoy the evening regardless, laughing and joking with Alex, and thanking them repeatedly for inviting him.
When the cuckoo clock chimed ten I was standing by the wall with a glass of cider, feeling full and contended and listening to the mingled chatter of the room, when I felt a hand on my arm.
"I'm taking my father home soon," murmured Kyung. "Come with me into the spare room for a minute?"
"Would this be the spare bedroom with the mistletoe?" I asked, setting my glass down on an end table as he led me into the room and shut the door behind us.
"Do I need mistletoe?" He put his hands on my sides and pressed our bodies together. My heartbeat sped up as I remembered the last time we had been this close. I felt his breath tickle my lips and then the warm smoothness of his mouth against mine, and I pressed into him, taking his face in my hand and kissing him deeply.
We kissed roughly and passionately for a few minutes, until I thought I might come in my pants. I forced myself to break away, still cupping the side of his face. "May I?" I asked, trailing my fingers up his cheek, and he nodded.
I slid my thumb over his small, smooth mouth, and he opened it a little. I wanted to slide my thumb in, make him suck it the way he'd sucked my cock that day in the kitchen, but I resisted. Instead I trailed my fingers over his square jawline, and up over the smooth angles of his cheeks. "You're beautiful," I said, tilting his face down to kiss his forehead.
"I should go," he said, sighing as if it were the last thing he wanted. "My father might wonder where we've disappeared to."
"You'll bring me my groceries next Tuesday, right?" I asked hopefully.
"Of course," said Kyung. "But, I mean, I was hoping I could come over before that."
My heart soared. "Sure, of course, when?"
"Tonight? After I put my father to bed I can come over."
"God, really?" I'd been dreading going home alone tonight. Could he tell? "That would be great."
"All right," he leaned forward for another peck, and then slid his hand down, over the front of my pants and squeezed. I gasped, indignant, blood rushing to my cock, but he was already gone.
*~*~*
Kyung didn't arrive until late. I sat at the kitchen table until nearly one in the morning, wondering if he was coming at all, but not wanting to go to bed. I was reading one of my braille books, one I'd read a million times before, my fingers skimming over the words, barely processing them. Mostly I was thinking of Kyung, of his lips, and his hands and his body…
The doorbell rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin before rushing up to get the door.
"Hi," said Kyung, and there was a note of weariness in his voice.
"Everything all right?" I asked as he stepped in and brushed the snow off of his boots.
He didn't answer, just grabbed me and pulled me into a fierce kiss.
When we broke apart, he said, "My father asked where I was going, so I told him to see you."
"Is he angry?"
Silence for a moment. He was probably nodding again. "Yes. Sorry, I don't mean to bother you."
"You don't bother me." I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. "Come in for some coffee?" I asked finally, and he agreed.
I poured him coffee from the pot I'd made earlier and we went to the living room. I wished belatedly that I'd put up the
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