80: Ghost

They broke up the next day. Well, not so much broke up as Inho just left. Ran away. Ghosted was probably the right word, he mused. Was he the ghost? He felt like one: brittle and hollow, dead inside, like he might blow away in a gust of wind. His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the crackle of an airport loudspeaker, “Flight 683 to Seoul is now boarding all passengers, please proceed to the gate.”

With a sigh, he hefted his duffle bag onto his shoulder– the same one he’d brought to Vancouver, full of mostly the same things he’d arrived with (minus a few sex toys). He was leaving as he’d arrived: empty handed.

Once settled on the crowded flight, he nestled into his window seat and shut his eyes, trying to block out the memories of the last 36 hours. Hard to believe how recently they’d been on that couch in the cozy back corner of a college cafe. Nervously telling each other I love you for the first time.

Stephen had kissed him, joyously, his lips hard, stretched into smiles he couldn’t keep in. And Inho had kissed him back, ignoring the throat clearing barista behind the counter. Kissed him like they were the only people in the world, feeling life flooding back into him, a relief so deep he almost gasped. He teared up and didn’t even care; he thought he saw the same in Stephen’s eyes, but surely not.

Stephen tucked his face Into Inho’s neck, and they were still for a moment. He felt perfectly content, revelling in a closeness that had been so so lacking, then Stephen whispered in his ear, “D’you want to go have sex in the bathroom?” and Inho burst out laughing.

“Hell no,” He answered, when he could breathe again, “But, let’s head out.”

“Oh, I see,” Stephen chuckled, and raised an eyebrow suggestively, “In the car again?”

“No, you perv, let’s go home,” He gave Stephen a final tight hug, “I’m gonna fuck you over the kitchen table,” he added, keeping his expression innocent while he gathered his things and marched out. Stephen stared after him a moment, then hurried after.

They held hands the whole drive and Stephen gently rubbed his thumb over Inho’s knuckle. They chatted about nothing, the small inane stories that are only interesting to people that really like you. Inho hid a grin with his hand and alternated staring out the window with sneaky observations of Stephen’s handsome profile. He admired the soft curl of his styled hair, and how a few strands had escaped to rest on his forehead, his straight nose, and long eyelashes. Stephen caught him staring a few times, but didn’t tease him.

When they got to Stephen’s apartment, (much faster than speed limits would have dictated) they didn’t make it to the bed, not even to the table. Inho’s facade of calm shattered as soon as they passed through the apartment entryway. He grabbed Stephen by the lapels and slammed him against his own front door. Careless of needing to raise up on his toes, he kissed his lover like a starving man. Then, tore his coat off him and threw it on the ground.

“That’s expensi–” Stephen almost got out, before Inho spun him to face the door and began undoing his belt from behind, untucking his shirt and hitching it up out of the way.

“Hands on the door,” he ordered, and Stephen complied, meekly bending forward where directed. He was hard already of course, and when Inho wrapped his hand around him, caressing slowly up and down his length, the tip was sticky with anticipation. Inho swirled his thumb around the head, gently tracing the small slit. He pressed himself along Stephen’s back to feel his flinches and shudders.

With wet fingers he began teasing from the back as well, “Spread your legs more,” he directed, roughly kicking Stephen's feet apart.

“With pleasure,” Stephen purred over his shoulder, “I like this attitude by the way. I always thought you’d be a good Dom too. I ah–” he cut off briefly, distracted by Inho’s fingers, “I’d be super into seeing it sometime.”

“I’ll think about it,” Inho answered, pressing his eyes shut and his lips to Stephen’s spine, “Just shut up a minute, mmph–” He gasped as he pushed in, the tight warmth stealing all of his attention.

He gave Stephen a moment to adjust, and when Stephen started shoving his hips back against him, fucking himself on Inho’s cock, he slowly increased the pace. His mind was pleasantly empty, but not in the hopeless way of the last time they’d been together. This time it was distracted by a heady mix of lust and comfort. He pressed down on Stephen’s neck, bending him further, then started thrusting hard and fast, moans and gasps rewarding his efforts.

They were connected at last, easing and rewriting the hurt of the last time they’d had sex.

“Ugh, it feels so good inside you,” he panted, and Stephen turned his face, straining his neck to kiss Inho over his shoulder. Inho could feel Stephen twitch around him as he thrusted, especially when Inho fondled him up front, one hand stroking his package, another teasing his chest...

Inho was getting a boner in his airplane seat. He shut down the memory hard, and curled tighter in his seat. There was plenty more to occupy his mind anyway.