The protector

China - Appetizer (M)

2027, December – Beijing,

"Oh! You're here! Good morning beautiful!"

Bizarre good morning from someone who was used to wake up at his side every day.

"Good mood elf?"

"Mhm! Woke up, saw you, and puff instantly happy."

In-ah turned, the white, scented sheet of the hotel room wrapping around her. "I warn you, sticky alert. This woman is too happy thinking that we'll stay together all day long. Also, she's starving for cuddles," her lips seized his in a soft nibbling, and for a while, only the noise of the wet mouth and the sighing filled the blank silence of the room.

Jeong Hyeok hoped for his distancing maneuver to go unnoticed as she tried to lean closer.

"Don't be shy."

The woman slowly slid underneath the sheet, his back arching on its own as a pair of pulpy lips enveloped his morning euphoria. 

It was all new. On the previous night, before sleeping, they had washed and dried the one the hair of the other. After an entire day around the polluted city, both were needing an uber-long washing, and she had asked him to join her in the double shower. His fingers trapped in her curls, the gentle massage she applied on his scalp. It all was different. It was as if it had suddenly become indifferent where one body ended and the other began.

Not satisfied with that just shared intimacy, the pianist had untied the belt of her white bathrobe revealing her perlaceous skin to his sight. "What if we sleep like this tonight?"

There had been a flash in her eyes, yet it had been soon replaced with a wistful glance.

"Would it be your first time Jeong Hyeok?"

"Oh."

"Then..." She had looked away. "Maybe you want to try this for the first time with the person you love."

Nonsense.

"Didn't you love my first times?"

"Bed things: better if you try them with someone 'not definitive,' you know, practice. Romantic things are a different story. I don't..." she had sighed, "I don't know, I'm afraid this is not my place."

He didn't even know if In-ah was right or wrong in theory, the only thing he knew was that, right at that moment, degrading words like "bed things," "practice," and "not my place," were giving him the want to punch the wall.

"First, I'd appreciate it if you would stop, forever, to talk about us like this. Second," his voice had sweetened, "these are our days, and you deserve this place in my life. You're important, not someone random. You're important," he had repeated, cautious in articulating the word as if the problem was in her ears.

"Come here," thinking to those words, he was getting angry again.

Free from the clothes fence, their bodies naturally framed, moulding into each other in a slow brushing of the just awakened skins. It felt sensuous, it was a contact they had never experienced before, and it was intimate of the real kind of intimacy. It was lust with emotions, the raw touch sharing warmth, becoming dirty together, it was making him feel like loved, and if there was someone who hopelessly needed it, it surely was him.