Always (Indigo Falls #1)

by Loren Leigh

Simkung. It’s Korean for that throb you get in your chest with some people. It definitely describes whatever this fucking response is to Kepler Quinn.

“Jin?” The way he says my name jerks me back to the present. “Yeah.” I swallow and point toward the stairs. “I should, uh . . .” “And there it is.” His voice hardens a touch. I frown. “There what is?” “You avoiding me.” I stiffen. “I don’t.” “You do.” His eyes narrow. “Every time I enter a room, you’re out of it in less than five minutes. You’re ready to bolt right now.” Self-preservation.

Why this sudden interest?” “It’s not sudden,” he says smoothly. “My interest is a constant.”

It’s breath-catchingly gorgeous. And infinite. Some people say it makes them feel small, but looking up at a star-stacked sky like this, I’ve always felt part of something. Maybe that’s why I’ve inked it all over my body. Or maybe it’s simpler than that: I just like this shit. The possibilities of the night sky.

I can’t think when he’s near. I’m like this spastic, brain-riddled kid with a . . . crush. A sudden coldness hits me at the core. That’s what this is. I have a fucking crush on my brother’s best friend.

“To me,” he says quietly, “it feels like I’m the most obvious person in the world. I leave you Post-its because I selfishly want you to think about me.”

“I followed you back here because I wanted to see how you are since I know you had a difficult night. And also, selfishly again, because I imagined shoving you up against the bookshelf and kissing the fuck out of you, even if I’m pretty sure that won’t ever happen. Even if I’ve imagined doing just that ever since that first time I saw you on the Quad.”

There’s always something in his tee pocket. A pencil. Glasses. A Post-it. He follows my gaze down to it and then tugs it out, flips it over, clasping it between two long fingers. “I was working on this when you called.” His right brow hitches. “It’s the secret to the future of our universe.” I huff out a laugh, despite myself. “You wrote the secret to the future of our universe on a Post-it?” “Can you think of a better place?” “Not really.” I tip my chin toward it. “What is it?” He tilts his head. “It’s just a couple of Euler-Lagrange equations.” I frown. “I know that. The shortest distance between two points is a line.”

His eyes light. “And that’s a prediction, right? Every equation in physics is an attempt at predicting the future. It gets pretty abstract, but if you take this equation and expand it, it lets you predict how the systems of our universe evolve over time.” He drags in a breath. “Not that it works. Complex systems are too difficult to predict. But sometimes the exercise of exploring what could happen brings us to a new place.” He pauses. “Like you showing up at the end of my office hours so I can give you a ride home.” “That’s a prediction?” “No.” He shakes his head slowly. “Just an exploration of what I hope for.”

I’m so damned turned on that my fingers are trembling against the desk, my knees wavering, my abs tightening to hard ridges as I stare down, completely mesmerized by his every movement as he rolls his thumb over my crown, already shiny with precum. His eyes trace over me, his thumb massaging my slit. “You look even sexier when I’m on my knees.”

“You didn’t think about locking the door before you swallowed me?”

“I didn’t think we’d go that far,” he says evenly. “What are you doing?” “Uh . . .” I’m so swollen that I can barely get the zipper started. “Putting my dick away?” “What if you don’t?” Kepler reaches back and pinches a stack of Post-its off the desk. “Open your mouth.”

“Open your mouth.”

“The door’s locked,” he says. “No one’s coming in.” “You’re a bad influence.”

He rests the Post-it stack on my bottom lip. “Now close.”

“Don’t drop it,” he orders.

“I’m close.” Before I even get the words out, I’m coming in deep, ball-trembling strokes so hard that my knees buckle, and I tip forward. His hands whip up to hold me above him, planted against my sternum as I let out ragged breaths. Before I even get a solid footing, he’s kissing me again. I groan at not just the taste of myself, but the slickness of my cum as it slides into my mouth. Christ. He didn’t swallow all of me yet. It feels so fucking dirty, and it sets me ablaze. He must feel it because he deepens the kiss, and I’m pawing at the bottom hem of his shirt as he rises, backing me against the door—the one we really shouldn’t back up against. My jeans are down around my knees, and the full weight of him shoves me against the wood. My fingers clutch in his hair as he kisses the life out of me.

He tells me about his dissertation, and I can’t pretend I understand half of it, but his intelligence lights me up, so much that I actually mumble a “that’s hot” in the middle of his explanation about nanokelvin temperatures. He hitches a brow. “Actually, it’s pretty damn cold,” he deadpans, and I’m grinning.

His gaze moves to the barbell through my nipple, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip. “I’m going to suck on that.” Holy shit, yes. “Promise?” I ask gruffly. “Absolutely.” I run a hand up over my pecs, the metal scraping lightly against my palm. “You don’t mind the tatts?” He laughs. “No, Jin. I’m going to suck on those too.” “You’re making a lot of promises.” “I intend to fulfill any that you want.”

“Why do you call me Jin instead of Jae or Jae Jin?”

“It’s not disrespectful?”

“Just wondering. You’ve called me that since we were kids.”

“Because you once told me what the hangul meant.” I pause, trying to read everything I can on his face. “Treasure,” I say. “It means something like treasure.” He squeezes me tighter. “Exactly.”

“So then . . . we’re boyfriends?” “Yes.” There’s a smile in his voice. It’s the same one I feel in mine, expanding across my face at record speed. “Shit, I like that.” “Good.” His voice gravels. “Then I’m going to call you that the next time I’m fucking you.” Every single cell in my body is smiling now. “Promise?” “Absolutely.”

“Jin,” he breathes. “Finish your thought.” I had a thought?

“I could explain to you all the years of our history.” His voice is soft and warm and full of so much emotion that it hits me low in the gut. “I could tell you about the treehouse and the telescope, the way that this man lives in my soul, that first moment I saw him on the Quad five years ago, how he’s my constant, how he fills me up. But you can see all that because it’s spread out on the table before you. It speaks for itself. So, ‘how long has it been going on?’ I’ll just distill it down to one word.” His eyes warm to a light gray. “Always.”

“Simkung,” I nod to my hand flat over his heart. “You have it too.” “What does that mean?” His voice cracks, his heart hammering even harder like it’s going to rocket right out of his body. “I hope it means,” I begin, my own eyes heating, “that you love me too.” “Jin.” A half-smile tugs at his lips as his eyes soften. “You’re my universal constant. Something that will never change.” That genuine smile expands over his face, the one I’ll never get tired of. “I love you to the depth of my ability to love.” I laugh. “Shit, that was a good ‘I love you’.” “It’s my first.” His smile falls as he tips forward, his forehead pressing against mine. “If you want to hear it simpler, then here it is: I love you too. Always.”