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After three wonderful months in Taipei, tonight would be one of Areum’s last nights in the city. Tomorrow evening, he would leave for Tokyo, where he would stay for two weeks, before leaving again for Manila. He felt bittersweet about leaving. He had made friends here with the other staff at the bar where he worked, particularly Grandma Wang, the 80-year-old grandmother who came in every morning to hand-fold hundreds of pork dumplings for the steamer, and Kun and Dejun, the two college students who bartended and waited tables with him in the evenings. Areum’s mother’s friend knew the bar owner who was more than happy to bring on another hand to wash dishes and chop vegetables for a little above minimum wage. Areum’s natural inclination was to live frugally, so this was enough for him, especially combined with his free accommodation courtesy of his mother’s friend again, who was traveling for most of the summer and lent Areum her apartment in return for keeping it clean and tidy and keeping her cat fed. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe after he wrote “travel the world” on that career survey over a year ago that he was actually doing it, that his plans weren’t falling through. He finished dressing in a short-sleeved black button-up and roomy black slacks—his uniform for the bar—and pinned a small button in the shape of a yellow umbrella to his shirt pocket. As he checked his appearance in the tall mirror beside the bed, he thought of his family back home and wondered how they were truly doing. Dawoon and Woori and Yeorum were over halfway through their first year at college and updated Areum frequently about their classes and day-to-day goings on in their group chat, while his mother still called him every afternoon to ask if he’d eaten. He didn’t hear much from his father, but that wasn’t unusual. Dad wasn’t really a texter. He checked in via Areum’s mother and by relaying messages through his brothers. Areum still felt intimately connected to them all, but sometimes the physical distance and solitude crept up on him. He had never been truly alone before. They’d always been four, then three, then four again. He didn’t know if he was being on his own in the right way. He wanted to travel because he wanted new experiences, to learn endlessly, to figure out some things about himself, but so far he hadn’t done anything too exciting. It was perhaps his only regret, about to leave Taipei without having really challenged himself to do something outside of his comfort zone. Nara would be disappointed.He touched the pin with careful fingers. It felt warm, and he liked to believe that it was Nara reminding him of her presence. Reminding him that it was okay to think of himself first. Shouldering a tote filled to the brim with confectionary gifts for the staff, he headed out, being sure to give Midnight, the cat, a good head scratch before closing the door behind him. The bar was one stop away on the metro or a sweltering thirty-minute walk. When he had the time, he enjoyed meandering through the small back streets of Ximending on his way, blocks from the bustling main street crowded with tourists and shops, while holding a mini-fan up to his face, taking in the quiet. Today, he decided on the metro since he didn’t want to risk the sweets in his bag melting or becoming disfigured on this warm afternoon, balmy enough that the skin of his neck was sticky by the time he climbed the stairs out of the metro station. He reached the bar minutes later, ducking under the half-risen metal gate to reach the door. “Hello, everyone!” he greeted as soon as he entered, blinking the sun out of his eyes to adjust to the dark interior. That was strange. Normally, everyone would already be bustling around, finishing—“Surprise!” A chorus of cheers erupted as the lights were turned on. Areum jumped back, jostling the umbrella stand by the door. His boss, Mrs. Chen, held a small chocolate cake with a single unlit candle squashed into the center, standing between Kun and Dejun. Grandma Wang sat in front of them all, wearing a party hat and attempting to pull open a popper. “Happy last day, Areum!” Mrs. Chen said as Kun lit the cake. “We’re so happy you came to work with us, and we can’t wait to hear about your adventures around the world. Come make a wish and blow out the candle!”“But it’s not my birthday,” Areum said. His voice wobbled, but he kept himself under control. He’d never been the recipient of a surprise party, probably because he had three siblings who shared his exact birthday. He shuffled forward, taking off his glasses to clean them with the corner of his shirt while hiding and fixing his face. Dejun said, beaming, “Doesn’t matter. You still get a wish! Make sure it’s something you want.” Meanwhile, Kun took in Areum’s quiet with a worried look. “Do you not like chocolate?” he asked.“I love it,” Areum said. He closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing out the candle. A single tendril of smoke weaved through the air. Grandma Wang popped the popper with an excited cry, sprinkling them all in confetti. As they gathered around the table to divide and eat the cake, Areum noticed decorations and signs up around the small bar. The 8-person counter hid the kitchen where all the dishes were prepared, and above their heads, a banner declaring ‘Ah Ru Mi's Last Day Party!’ was taped to the wall. Each table contained a stack of party hats for customers, and on the menu wall, where Mrs. Chen (and sometimes Kun) wrote the daily specials in chalk, two specials were added: “Ah Ru Mi’s First Day in Taipei” which was Areum’s favorite Taiwan-style popcorn chicken flavored with basil, salt, and pepper, and “Buy a Shot of Sake for Ah Ru Mi” which was exactly what it sounded like.“You didn’t have to do all of this for me,” Areum said, a little choked up, while Mrs. Chen served him a plate.“Nonsense. You know that I love a party! Now, eat up quickly,” Mrs. Chen said, shoveling cake into her mouth with chopsticks from her own plate. “We still have to finish prep.”It was a quick, efficient celebration, which suited Areum just fine. The cake was eaten, and Areum distributed the gifts he brought with him. Then they went about their tasks—cleaning, chopping ingredients, setting tables, preparing for the doors to open in another hour. Grandma Wang went home after finishing making all the pork dumplings, but not before Areum saw her off, promising to keep in touch and to consider meeting her granddaughter, who was about Areum’s age and not yet in a relationship.The first rush went by quickly. Mrs. Chen made Areum wear a special gold party hat all night so every customer would know who he was. Areum’s popcorn chicken was a popular order, and three tables called him over to buy him a shot of sake. After the third drink, Kun quietly advised him to dilute the sake shots with water for himself, as this was likely to go on all night. “We can always take it off the menu if you want,” Kun added. Areum shook his head, giddy with the energy he’d absorbed from the last table, who sat him down after the shot to ask him about his future travels. “No, it’s fun. I like chatting with the customers,” he said. “Well, then you’ll be useless after 9PM,” Kun said with a fond huff, rolling his eyes.Areum made it through the second rush by following Kun’s advice. Pleasantly tipsy, Dejun and Kun silently took him off the frying station and shifted him into plating cold side dishes and serving drinks. This was appreciated, but it also gave Areum direct access to the alcohol. By the third and last rush, Areum was glowing and removed from duty. Though he tried to at least refill water pitchers, Mrs. Chen took him to the side, tapped his cheek, and told him to talk to their regulars and enjoy his last night. With the lights lowered and the kitchen soon to be closed, the atmosphere shifted to a lively buzz. Many of their regulars wanted to chat about the places on Areum’s list, some offering suggestions and anecdotes, and even connections he could reach out to, if he needed anything on his travels.Honestly, everyone he’d met in Taipei was incredible, and he loved them all with his whole heart, and he told them this, every single regular (and some of whom probably weren’t), and Kun and Dejun and Mrs. Chen, and he wished the night didn’t have to end, that he could stay just a little longer.“You speak Korean?” the man next to him asked. They were sitting at the bar. Areum’s glasses were missing—no, just in his shirt pocket. He wiped the lenses with a napkin and shoved them back onto his face.“Yes?” Areum questioned. “I am Korean.”“Wow! Seoul, I assume? How long have you been here? I didn't realize. It’s really nice to speak to someone else in Korean. My Mandarin is awful and translating apps are amazing these days but—”“Hang on.” Areum sat up a little straighter. His head felt wobbly. His elbow slipped off the counter, but he caught himself and put it back on the surface. “Am I taking your order?”“No,” the man said, laughing. He dropped the formality from his sentences, clearly older than Areum. “I got more of your chicken. Last call. And I bought you another drink, but I think you might need water instead.”“It’s my last night here,” Areum supplied helpfully.“I know. This is your second time coming over to me.”“Is it?” Areum flushed, pulse hammering in his ears. Dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans, the man was, objectively and by society's standards, very attractive—large eyes in a heart-shaped face, with a sharp jawline and strong brow. Areum’s eyes kept lingering on the defined muscles of his arms. When he made himself look up, he found himself staring at the man’s full, pink lips, and he sent a silent apology to Grandma Wang’s single granddaughter. Areum’s prior experience with attraction was that it didn't happen to him, but now suddenly it was happening to him, and with great force. The strange phenomenon of what he could only believe was desire coursed through him. That, or a sudden illness. “Um.”“I’m Kim Banseok,” the attractive man said. Areum got the sense that this was not the first time he had introduced himself.“I’m sorry,” Areum said. “I think I’ve had a lot to drink.” He realized he couldn’t recall the finer details of the last hour and didn’t enjoy not remembering. He only hoped he hadn’t done anything embarrassing, or worse, rude.“What’s your Korean name?” Banseok asked. “Is it Lumi?”“It’s Areum. Na Areum.”“Like the first part of ‘beautiful’?”“Yes,” Areum said.“Fitting.” Banseok leaned onto the counter and gave what Areum could not help but feel was a smoldering look, and heat rushed into Areum’s cheeks like he’d walked into a fire.“Ah, I—should—I think—” Oh, and his mouth stopped working. Great.Dejun appeared with a basket of just-fried popcorn chicken, the basil aroma tickling Areum’s nose. “Enjoy,” Dejun said. Areum tried to slide out of the bar stool, but Dejun put his hand on his shoulder, his back to Banseok. “I said enjoy ,” Dejun whispered mischievously, throwing Areum a wink. “You’re off the clock, anyway.”“I-I need water,” Areum croaked, tongue clumsy around the round Mandarin syllables.“So I’ll get you water,” Dejun said breezily. When he walked off it was with a little sashay in his hips, and Areum was glued to his seat, unable to move.Banseok was chewing on a piece of chicken, staring up at the ceiling in thought. The line of his nose was high and strong, and his Adam’s apple bobbed enticingly. Areum clasped his fingers together, leaning on the counter, to keep himself from doing something horrifically stupid like reaching out to feel it move. When other people were attracted to people, did it make them dumb like this? Hot and awkward and sticky, trapped like a bug in tree sap?“What is it that makes it so fragrant?” Banseok asked, more to himself than to Areum. “Is it the white pepper? We don’t use as much white pepper in our dishes…” He examined the basket of little chicken morsels and plucked another small piece from it, popping it in his mouth. This time, he ate with relish. “It’s so good. Whenever I see it on a menu, I order it,” he said, grinning.“H-how long have you been in Taipei?” Areum asked. Dejun returned with a fresh pitcher of cold water and two glasses, placing them on the counter between Areum and Banseok before going around to the other tables to remind their customers that the kitchen was now closed. Areum reached for the pitcher, but Banseok was faster, and he handed Areum a glass of water first. Areum received it with both hands, chin tucked against his chest. “Ah, thank you. Let me—”Banseok pushed his empty glass toward Areum and watched Areum as he filled it with water slowly, concentrating very much on not spilling so that he could somewhat ignore the way Banseok was looking at him like he wanted to eat him. Areum had the insane thought that he wanted to be eaten, that he wanted to fill Banseok’s stomach. He didn’t know where it came from, only that the idea of it was fucking hot.It was his last night, his last chance to go wild in Taipei.“I’ve been here a week,” Banseok said. “But I should have come here on my first day.”“Why’s that?” Areum asked, task completed. He set the pitcher aside and wiped at the sweat dappling his brow with the back of his hand. Then he gulped down his whole glass, the icy water bringing some relief to the warmth rising in his body. “I missed out on this delicious chicken for so long,” Banseok said. “But you said you ordered it everywhere.”“Well,” Banseok said, “this little chicken speaks Korean.”“I am not a little chicken,” Areum said, and then he saw and understood the sly tilt to Banseok’s smile and felt like a bird that had flown headfirst into an unforgiving windowpane. Areum didn’t really know what to do with a man’s attention; rather, he knew academically what to do, what he could do—like how he might apply mathematical rules and logic to a complex equation—but the real-life actions were foreign, a taste he had not yet acquired. His blood was like a drum beating through him, and he was certain Banseok could hear it. “Where are you staying?” he asked.Banseok’s eyes flashed. “The Double Tree in Zhongshan.”“That’s nearby?” Areum asked.Banseok laughed. His hand dropped over Areum’s on the counter with a cool, collected casualness, palm on skin, and Areum let the touch burn through him. “We don't have to go right now,” Banseok murmured. “When are you off? I’ll take you out. Let’s keep talking.”“Talking,” Areum repeated, keeping his voice level through his disappointment.Maybe he had been too transparent. Maybe Banseok didn't like boys who were too forward. Areum didn’t know how these things worked.“Or we can go right now,” Banseok said. Maybe Areum had not been too transparent.Maybe Banseok liked boys who were forward. Maybe Areum was actually a genius about this stuff.Banseok’s palm slid up Areum’s wrist, fingers curved, grasping. Flirting appeared to come easy to Banseok. He was obviously older, more experienced, lines crinkling the corners of his eyes when he smiled. They were in Taipei’s gay neighborhood and no one cared that he was holding Areum’s wrist, stroking his thumb lightly up and down the ridge of bone under Areum’s thin, smooth skin, so Areum tried not to care, too. Banseok knew what he was doing, and Areum could pretend. “And here I thought you were a nice boy,” Banseok whispered, even though no one else could understand them.“I am a very nice boy,” Areum said, dropping his voice as well. It was their secret. “But it just so happens to be my last night here, as I said.”“Well, lucky me,” Banseok said. He smiled..Banseok was waiting for Areum around the block in his rental car. Areum insisted they not leave together, because…well, it was embarrassing, wasn’t it? But he made up a rule about not being allowed to go home with customers, which Banseok probably did not believe but accepted. He paid his bill and left. Areum waited a few minutes, helped clear the counter, and then went to the back to gather his things.Dejun intercepted him between the staff room and the back exit with a knowing smirk on his face. “You should have just told me you like them older,” he said, referring to the time he took Areum out clubbing and Areum hated every moment of it.“I don’t know what you mean,” Areum said. “Good bye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”“Stay safe!” Dejun said.Face flaming, Areum said his goodbyes to Mrs. Chen and Kun quickly before escaping outside. The night had not cooled; a sticky heat hung in the air. Areum walked around the block to find Banseok’s car, an unassuming gray sedan. The man was leaning against the driver door while smoking a cigarette.When Banseok saw Areum, he pushed himself off the door and grinned. “50/50 chance you weren’t coming,” Banseok said. He took another drag off his cigarette, exhaling the smoke downwind, a courteous gesture which Areum did not appreciate, because he could still smell the cloves and tobacco, and his nerves hummed, hot and needy.Areum realized that desire and addiction felt very similar to him. “Can I…?” He reached out his hand. Banseok’s eyes widened, flicking to his cigarette. Areum plucked the half-smoked stick out of Banseok’s fingers and held it to his lips, sucking in a long breath and holding the smoke in his lungs. When he exhaled, his nerves settled, and his mind quieted. He held the cigarette out toward Banseok, but Banseok shook his head and said, “You can finish it.”He took another drag, allowing the habit he was trying to kick to fortify him. Through the thin haze of smoke, Banseok watched him with dark, keen eyes. Areum lowered the cigarette, tapping his thumb against the butt to shake off the ash, which drifted to the pavement like snow. “Tell me you’ve done this before,” Banseok said.Areum blew the last bit of smoke out of the side of his mouth and dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his heel. “I’ve done this before,” he lied.“Okay,” Banseok said. He walked around to the other side of the car and opened the passenger door for Areum. Tilting his head toward the seat, he said, “Then get in, little chick.”.They drove with the windows down because the air conditioner in the rental was shoddy. Sweating in the slow-moving city traffic, they spoke little. Areum leaned out the window and closed his eyes against the warm wind as they rolled past densely crowded city blocks. He felt Banseok’s heavy gaze upon him whenever they stopped and let that hunger keep his own desire fed. It was a thrilling, dangerous feeling to be wanted by an older man.Banseok drove the car to the hotel valet, where they disembarked. He took Areum’s tote from him and shouldered it himself even though it wasn’t very heavy at all, and now Areum had nothing to do with his arms, so he crossed them, walking into the hotel lobby beside Banseok feeling awkward and misplaced. He wondered, as Banseok was greeted with a polite bow by the receptionists behind the long, gleaming white counter, if they thought they were family, like a fun uncle dragging his nephew around on his trip in Taiwan. Then he wondered, uncle or not, if they thought Banseok was going to fuck him in the hotel bed, and he tripped over the threshold into the open elevator, and Banseok caught him with a tight grip around his upper arm, his hand huge. “Sorry—” Areum straightened, flustered, but Banseok shifted his grip to rest around Areum’s waist, and he pulled him close against his side as the elevator filled with more people.“Don’t apologize,” Banseok said. His thumb rested just under Areum’s lowest rib, circling. The person to their left made a sound like a sigh and shifted a step away, creating space between them. Areum’s ears burned. More people noticed how closely he and Banseok were pressed together, though no one else reacted. The jaunty elevator music taunted Areum from above. He felt hot and stifled, and when it was Banseok’s floor, Areum pushed himself through the door without waiting, taking in a shaky, cool breath. “Bit of claustrophobia?” Banseok asked, reassuming his position by Areum’s side. His arm was strong and directive, moving Areum where he wanted Areum to go. They began to walk down the hall.“No,” Areum said.“I’ve got a little balcony attached to my room,” Banseok said. “It’s nice. For some fresh air.”“I don’t like balconies,” Areum said. “I don’t like high places.”Banseok nodded and steered Areum to the door for 8018. “Fair enough.”The spacious hotel room held a king-sized bed, a couch and work station, a large private bathroom, and the aforementioned balcony. Banseok went to the windows and closed the blinds, leaving Areum to fend for himself by the door. Once he took off his shoes and placed them beside Banseok’s, a sense of dread fell over him like a heavy blanket. What an awful idea to come here and push himself out of his comfort zone. Areum was not brave. He had never been brave or good at trying new things. He was just good at saying yes. Good at going along. Banseok still had Areum’s bag; he left it on the couch, far from the front door, and went to the work station where a mini fridge was tucked into a cubby under the desk. “You want something to drink? I’ve got…four tiny bottles of whiskey.”“I…” Areum hesitated, back against the door.“Come sit on the couch,” Banseok suggested.Areum walked toward the couch and sat. His bag was right there. Before Areum could grab it, though, Banseok sat beside him, blocking access, holding a little miniature bottle of whiskey up for Areum, dangling it like it was candy. After a moment, Areum took it and cracked open the plastic top, knocking the drink back like it was a shot. The liquid burned down his esophagus, much stronger than sake. He coughed.Banseok leaned forward and kissed him, cupping the back of his head with his huge hand and holding Areum against his lips. Caught off guard, Areum shoved at Banseok’s chest, knocking him back. Banseok stared, his brow slightly furrowed in confusion, as the wild drumbeat of Areum’s pulse climbed to a deafening volume in Areum’s ears. “Slower, or not at all?” Banseok asked.Desire and fear clashed inside of Areum, twisting into one single sensation that felt, to him, like falling—wind rushing past, heart quick and intense, mind braced for the inevitable impact. He was already here. He had come this far. He had never felt physical attraction like this before, and he was afraid he never would again. There was a first time for everything.“Slower,” Areum said.Banseok approached again, crowding Areum into the arm of the couch, and this time when their lips touched, Areum was ready. Sort of. It didn’t feel like anything, just a mouth moving against his own, dry, then a little wet. His hands were folded politely into his lap. He thought about touching Banseok but didn’t know where, or when, or how, then Banseok made a noise like a sigh and disconnected their lips, and Areum panicked, thinking he’d been found out, and floated his hands to Banseok’s waist.Banseok’s mouth trailed down Areum’s jaw to his neck. There was something different about the neck. Areum tilted his chin to the side, pulling the skin taut and thin near his throat, and Banseok pressed his nose to the little dip just under Areum’s ear and pushed a wet, open kiss into him, onto that tight, thin skin, and Areum gasped at the way his stomach fluttered, the first nascent shudder of pleasure. Banseok’s soft chuckle tickled the hair at his nape. He worked at that spot with his mouth and tongue until Areum melted into the cushions, confused by how much he could feel.“Put your legs here,” Banseok said. Areum didn’t know where ‘here’ was but allowed Banseok to move him so that he was straddling Banseok’s lap. “Better,” Banseok murmured, looking up slightly at Areum. His lips were shiny and wet. Areum threaded his fingers through Banseok’s thick hair and guided his mouth back to his neck. When Banseok wrapped his arms behind Areum’s waist, holding him in place, it felt like a large snake was coiling its body around him. Areum made himself soft; it felt right and instinctual. His thighs opened, his chest lowered, and their pelvises touched. The idea of Banseok’s cock petrified him. He could feel it under him, under Banseok’s jeans, a semi-hard bulge, an organ filling with blood. He had not had many opportunities to touch himself before. Growing up in a single bedroom shared with two brothers, there was hardly ever a private moment. He remembered with photographic clarity the first time curiosity had taken hold, his hand over himself as the water from the shower rained down over his back. 3 in the morning when he had finally finished studying, everyone else asleep, and he hadn't been able to look when he came, water in his mouth and eyes, breath swallowed by the dense, thick steam. Banseok’s lips traveled lower. Every place his mouth grazed felt sticky and hot, as though stung by some poisonous insect. He unbuttoned Areum’s shirt with one hand, the other still splayed wide across the small of Areum’s back. Exposed to cooler air, Areum’s nipples tightened, and he squirmed on Banseok’s lap at this new feeling, unintentionally grinding their groins together, then intentionally, when a tingly heat pulsed through him. Banseok’s hands gripped Areum’s ass. His mouth moved over a tight nipple, and Areum jerked with a startled whine.Banseok’s smile split across Areum’s chest. Teeth were pressed to Areum’s sensitive areola, not biting, as Banseok laughed. The air conditioner unit near the ceiling hummed, and Areum clutched at Banseok’s wide shoulders, humiliated. His skin pebbled in the fresh chill. The heat inside of him felt liquid and impatient. Banseok steadied his grip under Areum’s thighs and stood, making Areum fall against him, stomach swooping. He was placed on the bed, the silky covers cold at first but quickly absorbing Areum’s heat as he sank down into the thick layers. The sheets knocked Areum’s glasses askew, so he reached up to fix them, distracted for only a moment, when he noticed Banseok was shirtless and looming over him.Like this, his face in shadow, Areum was reminded that Banseok was a stranger. A Korean man he happened to meet tonight at the bar where he worked. He could be anyone. They had not talked about why they were both in Taipei at this particular time. What if Banseok was dangerous? What if Banseok was not? What if Banseok knew someone who knew Areum, somehow?But the time for caution had passed. Areum was half-naked on a bed with a stranger in Taipei. He took in Banseok’s shape—the round, hard orbs of his shoulders, the muscled square of his chest, the attractive triangular taper of his waist—and he wanted to be crushed by him, to be smothered into the sheets. He wanted to see his cock, to look at it and touch it and taste it and know it, until he wasn’t afraid of it anymore.A charge snapped through the air. Banseok lowered himself to Areum and devoured his neck, tonguing and sucking at the knob of his throat. He found his place between Areum’s legs and thrust his hips in, his sex harder than before, but still restrained by cotton and denim. Banseok’s hand dug into his belly, keeping Areum flat on the bed, as Banseok ground into the tender space between Areum’s legs.Areum felt furious. “Take it out,” he demanded, voice hoarse. Banseok sat up and undid Areum’s pants quickly, pulling them down to his upper thighs. His briefs, he dragged to just under the globes of Areum’s bottom.“No, I meant—” Areum’s breath caught when Banseok placed his hand over his penis. The warmth of him felt big and overwhelming, his hand molding to the shape of Areum’s sex, which might as well have been hard as a diamond. “Oh,” he moaned, arching up into the touch. “You’re so sensitive,” Banseok said quietly. He said it like it was a good thing, his mouth dropped open, eyes dripping with awe. “And so…”He never finished the sentence. His hand lifted Areum’s cock to his belly, where the tip leaked precum onto Areum’s skin. His thumb rubbed the wetness around the head, then dragged the slick down the underside, and back up, down and up. More precum spurted from the slit. Banseok leaned over Areum and licked it up. Areum’s thighs trembled. His hands became claws in the sheets. His cock was in Banseok’s mouth, just to make it wet. There was a spot on the underside of Areum’s dick, just behind the crown, that made all his nerves fizzle like he touched a live wire. Banseok touched him there, the spot no bigger than the pad of his thumb, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing until Areum was nothing but molten, unfinished desire, shivering in the prison of his body, unable to orgasm. Then Banseok dug two knuckles into the strip of smooth skin behind Areum’s balls, like he could drill inside of him, and Areum came with a choked cry, the air punched out of his lungs and his pleasure burning through him, using him up until his muscles were trembly and weak. Dazed, Areum was rolled over onto his stomach, face buried in the sheets, glasses pressed painfully into the bridge of his nose. Banseok’s huge hand burned on his shoulder, then a mouth, a kiss dragged down his spine. His dick twitched between his belly and the comforter. He got his elbows underneath him just as Banseok’s hands grabbed his hips and lifted him onto his knees. Now, he would be fucked.His mouth watered. He made himself soft again, knees spreading and back bowing. This act of presenting himself could not hide the way his thighs were still trembling. He had not seen Banseok’s cock yet. Was it big? Would it fit inside of him? How much would this hurt? He heard the rustle of Banseok removing his jeans, the grainy slide of a drawer opening and shutting, a cap popping open. He was not brave; he didn’t want to see. Areum kept his face in the sheets, braced on a forearm. A finger touched his perineum. It was wet. Areum’s breath hitched. The finger traveled through the valley between his cheeks like a feather, brushing lightly over his tight hole. “Fuck,” he heard Banseok whisper to himself. The mattress dipped behind Areum. He felt the warmth of Banseok’s body near him, then over him. A hand cupped around the nape of Areum’s neck. Another on Areum’s hip, this one wet. Then the slide of something thick and weighty in the cleft of Areum’s ass. Banseok groaned.His cock felt huge, parting Areum’s cheeks, creating space where there never had been before. Banseok’s thrusts were slow and long, lazily rubbing his slippery sex over Areum’s taint and hole, making Areum wet all over with lube. The friction was enough to make Areum’s dick come alive again. He reached underneath himself to touch with careful fingers.Banseok’s pace increased. His hands took Areum’s hips more firmly and moved Areum along his cock, or held him in place so that he could thrust harder and faster, knocking his pelvis against Areum’s ass. Areum imagined if Banseok were inside of him, how it would feel. To take his engorged cock to the hilt. To suffer that relentless, majestic pounding, a beating like the hooves of a racehorse. “Can I come on you?” Banseok asked, quiet, panting. “ Yes ,” Areum said. He wished Banseok had not asked permission and squeezed himself in his hand, coming again as hot liquid splashed over his lower back. Even Banseok’s cum felt thick. Virile and heavy. His second orgasm depleted him. Areum sank into the bed and felt like his insides had been scooped out of him. Banseok’s fingers slipped between his cheeks, holding him open. A thumb pried at his hole. Areum whimpered, and Banseok said, “You're fucking beautiful.”They kissed, Banseok climbing over Areum and pressing him down with his body. Rather than spur him on, it calmed Areum and made him more aware of the textures created by their intimacy: the air was still cool, a contrast to the simmering heat inside Areum’s body; he was wet between his thighs, a silky, slippery, artificial wetness; their releases were smeared all over the top covers and drying into Areum’s skin. He felt himself curling into this man, craving his warmth, his age, his experience. Banseok held him for a moment and then suggested they take a shower.In the bathroom, they stripped naked. Areum crossed his arms in front of his chest, covering his pert nipples, as Banseok removed his glasses from his face. The fuzzy outline of him in his imperfect vision made Banseok seem larger, like Areum didn’t know and couldn’t see where his muscles ended, but he glanced down at Banseok’s crotch and saw his cock, soft, nestled in a neatly trimmed thatch of pubic hair. Banseok readied the water. He stood under the spray first, then invited Areum to join him with an extended, guiding hand. It was strange to wash with another man. When Banseok touched him with soapy fingers, it felt medical. Areum watched him for cues that this should turn into sex, but none came, or Areum missed them, doubly unable to see clearly in the cloudy steam. After the shower, Banseok draped a towel over his shoulders and walked over to the standing wardrobe in the corner, opening it and taking from it a pair of long pants and a shirt. He dressed and began picking up their discarded clothes from the hotel floor. Areum observed him from the steamy bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re welcome to stay for the night,” Banseok said, returning to Areum and handing him his clothes. Areum inspected his underwear—miraculously clean—and frowned when he saw the spot of cum staining the bottom of his shirt, near the hem. He pulled his underwear on but walked back to the sink to run his shirt under hot water. Banseok followed him in. “I'm great at cuddling,” he continued.It seemed like Banseok wanted Areum to stay. He wondered if they would fuck again if he did. “Do you have an extra shirt?” Areum found himself asking.Banseok grinned, rubbing his hand over the ball of Areum’s shoulder. He went out and returned shortly with a white undershirt and said something about Areum taking his time; he’d be having a quick smoke on the balcony.Areum put the shirt on over his head. It hung from his body, emphasizing the difference in their sizes. He draped his stained black shirt over the towel rack to dry and hung his pants over the rail, too. The image struck him as homely and domestic, and a feeling rattled through his lungs. He stepped out into the cold room, retrieved his phone from his bag, and then got under the covers, shivering. He’d never been in a king-sized bed before. Back home, he and his brothers slept on futons on the floor, so this bed seemed as big as a continent.Banseok did not join him for a while. He finished smoking and came back inside, rummaged around in his wardrobe where Areum couldn’t see, and used the bathroom again. By the time he climbed into bed, Areum’s eyelids were heavy, his heart rate slowed. “You sleep with your glasses on?” Banseok chuckled, getting under the covers.Areum shook his head and turned to Banseok. A sort of signal passed between them, and Banseok removed Areum’s glasses again, folding them and placing them on the nightstand. “I have to leave very early in the morning,” Areum said. “I still have…packing.”“That’s right,” Banseok said. He seemed to remember something and turned back to the nightstand. On the notepad with the hotel’s logo, he scribbled out a phone number, ripped off the page, and slid it underneath Areum’s frames. “If you’re ever in Seoul and want company.”“I’m going to Tokyo, then lots of other places,” Areum said. “I won’t be in Seoul for another year.”“Well, then you can take or leave the number,” Banseok said. “I’m a big boy; you won’t hurt my feelings.” Banseok opened his arms, and Areum tentatively pressed himself into his chest, realizing that they didn’t owe each other anything more than this. That this could be it. He closed his eyes, relaxing into Banseok’s warmth, so freely given. .Even though Areum insisted he would be okay on his own, Kun and Dejun picked him up in Kun’s family’s hatchback and drove him to the airport. Three months of his life condensed into two suitcases and a backpack, and for the next year, after shipping a couple of boxes home, he’d be reducing it down to just one suitcase to make traveling easier. “I brought you some of the popcorn chicken for the flight,” Kun said from the driver’s seat as they merged onto the highway. Dejun was in the passenger’s, fiddling with Kun’s phone to choose a song for the drive. Wordlessly, he handed Areum a plastic bag filled with a small takeout container of the chicken, two rice balls, and a sealed cup of Areum’s favorite Taiwanese spicy instant noodles.“The flight is, like, three hours,” Areum said.“You never know,” Kun warned.“How was the old man?” Dejun asked, finally having chosen a song by a popular Taiwanese artist. He glanced at Areum over his shoulder.“He wasn’t that old,” Areum said.“He was graying like Kun,” Dejun said.“He was not—”“I’m not graying, you brat—”“Fine, fine!” Dejun conceded. “How was the ambiguously middle-aged hot older man?”“He was fine,” Areum said. He sat back and looked out the window, at the gray cinderblock architecture of Taipei that bursted occasionally, beautifully, with green. That feeling rippled through him again, the same one when he hung up his shirt to dry. “He was warm.”“That’s it? No details?” Dejun showed his frown to Areum in the rearview mirror.“Don’t press him,” Kun scolded. “If he doesn’t want to give you all the juicy details, he doesn’t have to.” Dejun looked offended. As they bickered in the front, Areum wondered how he could ever describe last night aloud. He didn’t have the vocabulary in Mandarin, not even in Korean, to talk about it, as it was more than the act itself, the parts they exposed to each other and shared. “Woah, hey, are you crying?” Kun asked. Areum rubbed at the skin under his eyes, underneath his frames. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” he whispered, shoulders tense and shaking.“It’s only a three-hour flight,” Dejun reminded him. Something soft bounced off Areum’s head, then another soft thing. Areum looked up at Dejun crumpling up a wad of tissue paper to toss at his face. “Don’t cry. We’re doing News Years in Singapore, remember?”Areum nodded and said, “You’re the first real friends I’ve ever made on my own. Outside of my brothers and sisters.”The car quieted. Maybe that was too much. Areum looked out the window again, trying to steady his breath. They merged off the highway. At the next light, Dejun unbuckled his seat and climbed into the back and wrapped his arms around Areum’s shoulders. Some things were better communicated without words..Areum squeezed himself into his window seat for the flight and strapped in, putting on headphones to drown out the other passengers as they boarded. The fried basil aroma wafting from the open snack container on his lap drew a few interested looks. He was grateful Kun packed it for him, that this would be his last taste of Taipei for a while. He savored each piece slowly.“Is that what I think it is?” A shadow fell over Areum. He looked up, taking his headphones off and looping them around his neck. Banseok grinned down at him. “Na Areum,” he said, sitting in the seat next to Areum.“You’re joking,” Areum said. His blood pulsed with heat—fear, desire, or both? “When you said you were headed to Tokyo, I didn’t know we’d be on the same flight! I thought yours was in the morning,” Banseok said. He probably noticed Areum’s wide-eyed stare and registered it as terror. “I promise I’m not following you. I had business in Taipei and on my way back, I wanted to do a little layover in Tokyo. It was already planned.”“Why didn’t you say anything?” “Didn’t feel right,” Banseok said, shaking his head. Final boarding commenced. The flight attendants closed the doors and the plane began to peel away from the gate, rolling slowly down the tarmac. Safety instructions, first in Mandarin, then in English. Areum caught half of both, less because Banseok was staring at him. “What?” Areum asked when the attendants were done with their demonstrations and moving down the narrow aisles to their seats. “You didn’t take my number.”“You said you wouldn’t care,” Areum said. “I said it wouldn’t hurt my feelings,” Banseok said, smiling, tongue in cheek. Areum frowned at him. The heat in his body remembered him and was climbing. This close, Areum could smell the faint notes of tobacco clinging to Banseok’s collar. Addiction, desire, or just something he wanted?Banseok leaned over and plucked a piece of chicken from the box, popping it into his mouth. “Where are you staying?” Areum asked. “What are your plans?” He decided he liked the way lines formed around Banseok’s eyes when he smiled.“You tell me,” Banseok said..