Page 96 of Hamartia
His eyes go wide and round. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“It’s my birthday in March. Maybe, if you’re free, we can go visit her?” He sounds hopeful.
Comeback starts in April so I’m certain there will be no free time to fly to the US and back, but I can’t bear to disappoint him so I say, “Maybe, yes.”
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go home, pack my shit. Try and sleep until Thursday night. Don’t practice too hard.”
I smile at him. “No, I won’t. Oh, and the company will send a car for you. To the airport. They have your flight, so they will bring you here.”
“Ah, okay cool. Yeah, that’s cool. And you’ll come later?”
“Yes. But sleep, or take a bath, or there are books.” I laugh because suddenly the idea of him being here, in this very room, in less than two days feels very surreal.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me. Maybe I’ll go explore your city,” Raphael says with an excited grin. “Fuck, I’m gonna see you soon. I can’t wait.”
“Me too.” I nod.
We hang up and my mind starts racing as I try to think about what on earth I’m going to buy him for Christmas. I come by an idea less than a minute later, face heating and cock stirring. I minimize the page on Raphael’s father and pull up another website instead.
I’m woken gently by the stewardess. She’s smiling down at me, all teeth and looking immaculate despite the thirteen hours we’ve been in the air.
“We’re landing in twenty minutes, Mr. Scott,” she says.
“Thanks. It’s Rapha,” I croak, rubbing at my gloopy eyes as I sit up. It’s my automatic reaction to whenever anyone calls me that, no matter how out of it I am.
The bed in first class was surprisingly comfortable. Worth the extra $2k. I’d had a couple beers, pulled on my eye mask and earplugs, and was out within an hour of leaving LAX. Which had been a shit show. Phil, the photographer, had been there, a few others too. Asking about Camille, asking if the rumors about me and Cleo were true, asking about my black eye. Had Camille been cheating? Had I cheated on her? Where was I going? Who with? Was I off to Australia to patch things up with my fiancé?
I’d managed to hide my bruising from Jae. Wearing either sunglasses or calling him in the dark with only the light of the TV whenever we’d video called. I was hoping it was gonna be gone by the time I saw him, but Mason’s resentment is still flowering around my eye and so I guess I’ll have to talk about it.
Jae had told me to wear a facemask when I landed just to be safe, even though no one except them drew crowds to airports in Korea. And that was because it was planned in advance. My driver is waiting for me just inside the arrival lounge with the name ‘Shiro’ on his tablet. It’s Jae’s cat’s name. It meant white in Japanese.
I wave at the guy and he bows before reaching a hand out to take my suitcase. I try to protest, but he smiles and bows again and so I let him take it, happy to give him something to do and not wanting to be rude about it since I know manners are a big deal here. I follow him outside to a large, black SUV and he slides open the door for me. I climb in and almost shit myself at the sight sprawled elegantly on the leather seat sat across from me.
His long legs are crossed at the knee and he’s wearing smart black tailored pants, a grey sweater with Chanel written in black across the rolled up sleeves, white face mask, and a pair of dangling silver earrings. His eyes are smiling as he looks over at me. The close space of the car means I can smell him. Clean, expensive, floral. He waits until the door is closed behind me until he slips down the mask.
“You are here,” he says.
“So are you.” I want to lean across the space and kiss him, press my nose to the skin of his neck and breath him in, but I don’t know if I can. I feel the tension in my body unfurl at the very sight of him though. A deep contented breath leaving me. “I thought you were working today?”
“I am, but there was some time and I thought about how I’d like to be one of the first faces you saw when you landed in Seoul.”
The driver climbs in and says something to Jae in Korean, which elicits a response of a few words and a nod.
“Are we…” I glance at the driver. “Safe here?”
“Inside this car? In Korea?”
“The car.”
“We are safe.”
It’s Jae who moves. Across the distance between the two seats to fucking crawl into my lap. As he burrows his face against my neck and the scent of his cologne floods my nose, I almost groan out loud from how good he smells. He feels almost slight in my arms as they come around him. The planes and sharp edges of his body are hot and hard but yielding and soft as he moves. I nose at his cheek and hair, inhaling deep. My dick is starting to take notice, especially when he presses his lips below my ear and sucks the lobe into his warm mouth.
“I am glad you are here,” he whispers, a soft noise falling from his throat.
He places his hands on both sides of my face and brings his head around to press his lips to mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth. My hands press flat against the base of his spine, fingers dipping beneath the seam of the leather belt he’s wearing to grab at the top of his ass. Solid muscle, smooth skin. My dick twitches again.