A Touch of Mistletoe (2 page)

"No, me neither," I admitted. I had the sudden urge to be very far away from him. What I'd done was not appropriate. It wasn't all right to lead him on just because I was starved for contact and desperate for any form of touch.  I wanted to explain all that to him, but my brain refused to form the words. "I should go."

"Wait, Warren—" I heard him get up, but I had already stood and headed to the door. It was time to go home.

*~*~*

I was playing in my study when the doorbell buzzed, and I got up quickly, excited to see Missy. It had been a week since she had last delivered my groceries and invited me to her party. I hadn't spoken to her since, not interacting with anyone except my students and my parents when they had called Wednesday night. The phone call had been short and sweet. They were going on an Alaskan cruise for Christmas, and was I sure I didn't want to come?

I was sure.

I closed the fall board over the piano keys and left the study, trotting down the stairs of the small townhouse and opening the door to let her in. "Hi Missy, come in."

"Oh," said a man's voice. "Actually it's Kyung."

My heart skipped a beat. I'd thought about Kyung several times since the party, mostly in intimate ways, recalling the heat of his kiss and the fantasies I'd had about lying atop him. I felt absolutely terrible about it. I'd never wanted to see him again. What was he doing here? "Kyung? Where's Missy?"

"She had a meeting today, and I told her I was bored. She asked if I wanted to get your groceries for you." He paused. "I'm sorry, I should have asked if it's okay."

I realised he was probably standing on the porch with my heavy groceries and shook myself, stepping back out of his way. "I'm sorry.  Please, come in."

"Thanks," he wiped the snow from his shoes and stepped past me into the kitchen. "Where should I put everything?"

"Just on the counter is fine," I said. "I can go through it later." I realised I was being very short. I always invited Missy in for lunch after she delivered my groceries for me. I should at least do the same for Kyung. But…

"I got everything on your list." Kyung walked over to the counter and placed the rustling bags down on it. "The people at the store know you. I got you a few other things too, for Christmas."

I was silent, unsure of how to respond. "That was… nice of you," I said finally. "But why did you do that for me?"

"Why not?" I could hear the shrug in his voice. "Missy said you like Christmas cake."

"How much was it?" I reached for the drawer that held my wallet, and pulled out a few carefully folded bills.

"It's a Christmas gift," said Kyung obstinately. "I used your cheque for the groceries you wanted and then I paid for the cake and stuff myself."

"I don't… " I gripped the bill. "Kyung, I'm sorry if I gave the wrong impression the other night. At the party."

"What impression?"

I sighed and stalked over to the bags, opening one and pulling out the carton of eggs. "That I was… you know." I pulled open the fridge and set the eggs on the top shelf, turning back to search the bags for the milk. "Interested in that… sort of thing."

Kyung wandered over and I heard him rustling through the bags. He touched my hand lightly, and then began to pass me the other refrigerated foods. His fingers were cool and silky. "I didn't expect anything. It was just a kiss."

"But I… " I breathed out through my nose, closing the refrigerator door. "I guess I'm just harboring some guilt."

"Because of your wife?"

Another pang in my chest. "No, actually. Well yes and no. The thing is," I gathered together all the pasta packages and headed to the cupboard to put them away, "I haven't really been… intimate with anyone at all since my Kali passed away, and I'm… " I could feel myself blushing. Would he notice? Kali had said that when I blushed the back of my neck went darker. I quickly turned to face him again. "I'm not
interested
in men," I said, once again hating how defensive I sounded. "So the fact that I enjoyed that kiss so much means I must be really, really desperate and, well, I'm sorry to have taken advantage of you that way."

Kyung was silent for a long time, until I began to wonder if he was even there still. Finally he spoke. "You're not interested in men at all?"

"No," I said. "I loved my wife, I was very interested in her." I hurried back to the groceries, hoping to distract myself from my embarrassed state.

"That… doesn't mean you can't be interested in men too," said Kyung slowly. "Have you thought maybe you're bisexual?"

I stopped moving. "No, I haven't, but," I reached back into the bag I was sorting through. "I'm not."

"How do you know?"

"I just… I'd know." I said it firmly, but a seed of doubt had planted in my mind at the mention. Wouldn't I know?

"Well, did you ever feel attraction to anyone besides your wife?" asked Kyung. He was busy emptying the bags, setting the items on the counter for me. "Sorry, I don't know if I'm helping or making things worse."

I wondered if he was talking about the groceries or the conversation. "It's fine," I replied, to both. Although the conversation was making me a little uncomfortable. "No, I mean, she was my wife. We met in high school, she was my only girlfriend. I've never been as close to anyone else, it's not like I could ever ogle other women."

"Right." Kyung sounded triumphant. "So how would you know?"

"I just… I can't be… " Bisexual. Bisexual meant gay. I knew the difference, but it still meant… not straight. It was like another world. "I'm sorry, I'm not homophobic or anything," I said, trying to reassure Kyung. "People can love whoever they want, I just… I'm not part of that world."

I had finished putting the groceries away. There was nothing else to do besides place the bags in the recycling container under the sink and stand awkwardly facing Kyung.

"How would you know, though?" He pressed. "Unless you try it."

"Try it?" My breath caught in my throat, memories of Kyung's soft, flat lips, his body underneath me. My cock twitched. "What are you saying?"

Kyung took a step closer to me. "I liked kissing you," he said. "I'm not a child. I can handle rejection. Why don't we see? Then you'll know." He was standing very close to me. I could feel the air stirring between us, the warmth from his face. "Warren?"

"You want to… kiss again?"

"Is that okay?" His breath fluttered on my lips. "Maybe more?"

More?
My cock jumped again. What was more? Why was I so pathetically receptive to the thought? "I might not like it. Will you be okay if I don't like it?"

"I said I would," he replied, closing the gap between our mouths until they were nearly touching. "I think you'll like it though."

I moved forward, unable to resist the warmth of his breath any longer. Our lips touched and opened together, and his tongue slid into my mouth. I moaned and sucked on it, grabbing his waist automatically and pulling him to me. He was bigger than I'd thought he was, at least my height, with a strong, muscular core, and his body felt good under my hands.

He ran his own hands up my back, to tangle in my hair, and pulled my face closer to his, so that our mouths mashed together. My cock was hardening quickly, aching to be touched, and I ground my hips into his. I gasped as I felt him through his pants. Our cocks were rubbing together, and the thought made me groan into his mouth. He felt so very warm under my hands.

He was wearing a dress shirt, tucked into slacks, and I hurriedly tugged it up, and then the light cotton shirt underneath. I was suddenly, feverishly desperate to feel his skin. He gave a small gasp as my fingers touched his waist and I pulled him to me without thinking, light-headed from the feel of our cocks grinding together and the warm, rounded muscles of his hips. I didn't know why I had expected him to be small. He wasn't, he was large and strong and warm.

His hands were on the clasp of my pants and I froze for a moment as I realised what he was doing. Then he finished undoing the button and unzipped them in a quick moment, and his hand found its way down, past my underwear, to my now nearly rock-hard cock.

"Kyung!" I gasped into his mouth, but he was already drawing my cock out, and pumping his fist up and down the length.

"I want to taste you," he said, his deep voice reverberating in my ear, and then I felt him drop to the ground. Oh god, no, this wasn't happening. This was a dream, it was far too good to be true. He moaned again, that low, silky voice, and I felt his breath warm the skin of my cock. Then there was warm wetness swirling against me, and I threw my head back, reaching for the counter to support myself as he swallowed my cock.

My breaths were loud and rasping, and my hands clenched, one still grasping the counter for support, and one curling around the short, silky hair on his head. He was moving on and off of my cock, making small guttural noises as he did so. My balls tightened, felt close to exploding. "Kyung, Kyung," I managed to gasp. "I'm going to… I'm going to come… "

He slipped off of my cock for a moment, murmured, "Good," and then continued, faster and faster, my cock sliding deep into his throat, the muscles constricting around me, drawing me out, until at last I groaned and came, releasing myself deep into his throat.

I moaned and sagged against the counter, breathing heavily and whimpering a little as his mouth slid off of me. I heard him rush to the sink and spit, before running water and rinsing his mouth out a few times. "Mm," he said, sounding a little winded. "That was… a lot."

"I'm not going to apologize," I said. "You brought it on yourself."

"Yeah," he sounded pleased with himself. "So?"

"So what?" I staggered over to the table and sat down. Kyung did so too, sitting heavily in the chair across from me. "I don't know," I admitted after a moment. I had definitely liked it. Not just the blow job, his body, his voice. "I guess I liked it." I had no idea why I didn't just admit that I'd loved it, that I'd loved
him.
What was I afraid of? "I liked it a lot. But I'm… like I said, desperate." The doubt was still there. The idea that I could be bisexual, that I could be attracted to men, still seemed absurd. "It was just a blow job."

Kyung snorted. "Now you're just being stupid," he said. "If you don't want to label yourself, you don't have to, but I think you liked that. I think you liked me."

"I did," I said. "You were right. But why did you do that?" I asked suddenly curious. "Just to prove a point, or… "

"No, no," I thought he was shaking his head. "Because I like you. That's hard to believe?"

"I guess I figured you could have your pick of men."

"Yeah?" he said dismissively. "Not in this tiny town."

"You don't like it here?"

"No." He wasn't used to communicating with a blind person. Most of my friends gave me verbal cues, Kali had been especially good at it. Kyung was still a mystery. "I… " He sighed. "I would like to go back to Korea. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"Missy didn't tell you?"

"She said you were taking care of your father?"

"He has cancer."

"I'm sorry." I fiddled with the tassels on the table cloth. Kali had hated that habit. "That must be rough."

"Well, he is my father. I must care for him in his old age, it's my duty as his son." He sounded the slightest bit petulant, and his accent had gotten stronger.

"I see," I said. "You couldn't have just hired a caretaker?"

"That's not how we do things," said Kyung quietly. "A child's first duty is to his parents. Everything else is secondary."

"Do you have a boyfriend back in Korea?" I asked, my stomach queasy at the thought.

"No," laughed Kyung. "I was a businessman. No time for anything else. Now I am just a caretaker. Too much time."

"How long will you be here for?" I asked, my stomach still a little queasy. I couldn't quite place why.

"I'm not sure," said Kyung. "For as long as my father is alive."

He excused himself after that, thanking me again, and left his phone number to call if I ever needed anything. I suspected he'd be happy to be relieved of the boredom. I made my way back up to the music room, deep in thought.

Obviously Kyung resented his father a little, but I didn't buy his explanation that he hadn't had a choice about coming. He probably loved his father, but couldn't help resenting him at the same time for being dependent. The concept was familiar. My family felt the same way about me. Oh, they loved me. But having a blind child was expensive. It was extra work. It was tiring.

Kali had never made me feel like a chore. She'd never resented me, not once. She'd been too good for this world, and I'd never find someone else like her.

Kyung was nice. He was kind. And he was sexy. But he wasn't Kali. No one ever would be.

*~*~*

"It says
'Wishing you a joyous holiday and a Happy New Year'
," said Kyung, "and there's a picture of a polar bear."

"What kind of picture?" I tilted my head to hear Kyung properly in the crowded card shop. "I don't really care what it's a picture of, I want to know the feeling of the card."

"It's cute," said Kyung. "Cartoony, the colours are soft. I think Missy would like it."

"Okay then, I'll get it," I said, satisfied. "That's it, right?"

I listened while Kyung sifted through the bags he was holding. "You have presents for your parents, for Missy and Alex, and one for your brother. And then we are buying the bulk cards for your students and individual cards to go with presents. Anyone else?"

"I don't think so," I bit my lip. "Kali always did presents before. I—I don't even know how I'm going to address them."

"What did you do last year?"

"I didn't do presents last year."

Kyung must have seen the upset look on my face, because he took my arm and leaned comfortingly against me, before leading me up to the counter. "I'll address them for you when we get home, if you want."

I hadn't planned to go shopping with Kyung. I hadn't even planned to see him again. But he'd shown up with my groceries again this week and helped me put them away as if nothing strange had happened last week. Afterward he'd asked if I had all my Christmas shopping done, and when I confessed that I haven't even started, he insisted on taking me to the mall.