Absinthe novel Chapter 39

"Very funny, Jiwoo," I said, genuinely laughing at his preposterous suggestion to have sex. "Hand me the filling you made so I can puff up these bad boys, will you?"

Jiwoo took one of the buns resting on the counter and played with it. He was caressing it with his hand while staring at me, hard.

"Some good buns you've got there," he said.

I didn't need a mirror to know that I'd turned red. Fuck Jiwoo and his antics. He then grabbed a piping bag and filled it with the pastry cream.

"I'm pretty skilled when it comes to filling up buns," Jiwoo said, not breaking eye contact as he slowly inserted the metal tip of the piping bag into the soft dough. "Just the tip won't be enough. You need to penetrate them entirely."

For some odd reason, other than the fact that I was getting aroused by the stupid conversation, my eyes were glued to Jiwoo's hands as he filled the coffee buns with pastry cream. The way he squeezed the piping bag was enough to send spasms from my nether regions to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"You have to keep piping until the filling oozes out." Sure enough, the pastry cream became slightly visible through the thinner portions of the coffee bun dough, a reminder of what happens after sex.

"You're disgusting," I managed to say, fanning myself subconsciously. "And you've ruined that piece of perfectly good bread."

"You're right," Jiwoo said, examining the bun in his hand. "I tried to be as gentle as possible, but when I lose control, I tend to rip things apart with my size and rhythm."

God, had things been different, I would have gladly taken a pounding from Jiwoo, the hot asshole. But I'd decided not to mess up our friendship and not to engage in unsure relationships again. He was as straight as a ruler, after all, and I was no longer willing to risk anything. I was not ready to end up like Mowcah, not when there was someone as hot as Jiwoo who was ready to love me for who I am.

"You're feeling it, aren't you?" Jiwoo teased, inching closer to me. "The only way to dispel this tension is for you to give in."

"What do you get from teasing me like this?" I asked, trying my best not to sound affected, especially now that at the back of my head, my inner self was screaming for Jiwoo to take his shirt off.

"We started off on the wrong foot," Jiwoo began. "And you seem to be harboring the idea that I'm not serious about you. I'm here to prove otherwise."

"If you're doing this because you really need money, I can help you out as a friend."

That seemed to do the trick. Jiwoo frowned and backed off a few paces. He was staring at the counter now, probably thinking about what I had said. And before he could misinterpret it, I explained myself.

"Seriously, I like you as a friend. It's true that I'm gay, and it's true that you're extremely attractive. I just don't want to take the same route Mowcah did. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I'm not giving up on true love yet."

Jiwoo kept his stare fixed on the kitchen counter. He didn't say anything, so I wasn't sure if he had understood what I meant. I approached him and took the piping bag from his hand. I proceeded to fill the other buns with pastry cream.

"You already know I wasn't born rich. Faye's the same," I started. "Derrick's parents are successful cosmetic surgeons. We have this other friend, Cassie, whose family is from the upper class, too. They have hardware stores all over the south. But Faye and I had to hustle. So I understand that some people need a bit of assistance to make it in life, and I see that in you."

Jiwoo didn't speak.

"That's why I'm willing to help you. A lot of people also showed me kindness when I was starting out."

"Have you ever met someone you just want to take care of?" Jiwoo asked, still not looking at me. "You want to take that person out to the movies. Maybe hold hands inside and steal a kiss or two when he's too engaged in what's on the screen."

I stopped filling the coffee buns. What he was describing sounded all too familiar.

"You want to buy things for that person, provide for that person. If possible, make a family with that person."

Jiwoo's eyes hadn't left the kitchen counter. I noticed his hands were now balled up into fists.

"You want to go home and fall asleep with that person and start your mornings waking up to their face."

We were both quiet in the few minutes that came after. I didn't know if I should continue piping cream into the buns, and I was worried that they'd be overproofed.

"That's how I feel about you," Jiwoo said. "And it sucks that I can't do any of those things because you're too far from my reach."

That was a knockout speech. It was too pleasant and too off-putting at the same time, so I had no idea how to react properly except to accidentally squeeze the piping bag and make a mess with the pastry cream. It went all over my chest, fingers, and arms. I frantically reached for the kitchen roll on Jiwoo's side of the counter, but he grabbed my hand, forcing me to look at him.

He took my index finger and slid it inside his mouth, sucking at it until most of the cream was gone. Then he licked the length of it, slow and steady from the base to the tip of the nail, his tongue folding and curling along as he wiped away the remaining traces of cream before he moved on to the next, all the while his eyes boring deep into mine. It was as if they were trying to say something, but I couldn't understand any of it. All I knew was that I wanted Jiwoo to take me into his arms and kiss me hard.

Which was what he did next.

In moments, his body was flush against mine and we were kissing. His mouth tasted of sugar and milk and roasted peanuts and vague traces of some sweet alcohol I couldn't seem to get enough of. I wanted him to kiss me harder, the way he did three months ago, but I changed my mind because that was nothing compared to how he was kissing me now.