Page 44 of K-Pop Double Life

Our fingers touched on the edge of the bowl. Nothing. An accident. Something that could happen between any two people at a crowded table.

My body apparently hadn’t received that information because my penis stiffened as I looked at Sang-hoon’s face and remembered the feel of his body against mine.

Across from me, Sang-hoon’s mouth twitched, and I kicked him lightly under the table.

His smile widened. At the other end, Min-kyu had discovered the sambal. “How spicy is this?” he asked.

The server started to answer, but he had already spooned a generous amount onto his rice. Everyone watched him take the first bite.

For two seconds, nothing happened. Then his eyes widened.

Haneul burst out laughing. “It’s not that hot,” he insisted. “You have eaten buldak spicier than this.”

Min-kyu wiped tears from his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he said. He took a big drink of water and then continued eating. I looked at Sang-hoon and we both began to laugh as well. Eventually even Aidan was laughing, though Liam merely shook his head with the expression of a man who had predicted disaster and was pleased to have been proved right.

The dishes kept circulating. Chicken satay with peanut sauce. Vegetables cooked with coconut. Something sweet and sticky made with soy sauce. Fried potatoes. Cucumbers in a sharp pickle that cut through the heavier food. Every time I thought I’d found my favorite, another plate reached me.

It was strange and familiar at the same time. Rice in front of us, dishes being passed back and forth, everybody stealing from everybody else’s plate. Not Korean food at all, but the rhythm of the meal felt like home.

For the first time all day, nobody seemed to be thinking about the tour. Nobody was talking about call times or press or security. Nobody mentioned Paris. Nobody mentioned the photograph.

We were simply hungry young men eating too much food in Amsterdam.

Sang-hoon put another piece of rendang on my plate. “You liked this.”

“I can serve myself.”

“I know.”

His eyes met mine again.

There was nothing unusual about a stylist remembering what I liked. Sang-hoon had spent years knowing whether a collar bothered me, which shoes would start hurting after two hours, how much product my hair could take before I complained.

But this was different. Or maybe I was different.

I ate the piece of beef he’d given me. Under the noise of everyone talking and laughing, his foot brushed mine. This time neither of us moved away. I felt the heat of his foot pressing against mine, and pushed back against it. Electric signals rose to my penis, which tried to stiffen under my tight pants. Because Sang-hoon had picked those slacks out for me to wear, I had the feeling he knew just what he was doing.

When I looked directly at him, he had a sly smile. So that’s the game we were playing.

When we got back to the hotel, we waited outside the door to my suite until everyone else had gone inside. I opened the door and Sang-hoon followed me in. We were kissing before the door was shut.

“You taste like spice,” he said. “Too much of that rendang.”

“But never too much of you,” I said. We grappled quickly with our clothes, tossing them on the floor.

“I’ll have to pick all this up later,” Sang-hoon said, as I fell back on the bed, naked.

“After you come to me,” I said.

This time, we moved more slowly, drinking in each other’s bodies. “You are so fit,” Sang-hoon said. “Sometimes I can’t believe how much you eat and yet you stay so slim.”

“Don’t you see how hard I work on stage?” I demanded. “That uses up a lot of calories.”

“We could use up some more now,” he said, and he rolled on top of me. We moved together the way we had in the shower in Paris, this time with only our sweat lubricating us. Both our penises were hard and fluid streamed out. He slid down on the bed and began licking my penis, and tiny noises came out of me that I’d never heard before.

He took those as encouragement, and began sucking the tip of my penis. I had never experienced sensations like that when I took care of myself.

If Sang-hoon thought he was teasing me, he was right. But I loved it.