Absinthe

Chapter 61: Sex Solves Everything

I forced Jiwoo to shower first because based on experience, the two of us are not good at showering

together. The moment he came out, he complained that he was hungry and asked if I wanted to eat

some instant noodles with him.

"There's some chashu and soy-eggs in the fridge," I said. "I think there are some mushrooms you can

use as well."

"Can I borrow something to wear?"

I pointed him to the other door leading to my wardrobe. "The PJ's are on the left most closet."

I showered rather quickly but took my time with my skincare routine. I'm sure Jiwoo would wait until I'm

out before he cooks the noodles. After that, I donned my Paul Smith iconic multi-stripe printed cotton

pajamas and headed for the kitchen.

"Yoh," Jiwoo greeted. "Perfect timing! The noodles are just about done!"

All my sleepwear were intentionally a size bigger than me so they're quite loose. But my navy-colored,

silk-satin Dolce and Gabbana pajama set was a stunning fit to Jiwoo's frame. My feet carried me over

to where he was without my express permission! My arms, too, rebelled against my will and took Jiwoo

in a tight hug. My head started rubbing itself against the smoothness of the silk and the hardness of his

torso.

I must have been doing that for some time because Jiwoo ruffling my hair and said, "The ramyun will

get cold if you don't let go."

Hesitantly, I let go. "I'm sorry, too."

Jiwoo flashed me his boyish grin. "I told you, sex solves everything."

I frowned and walked towards the other side of the kitchen island where the high stools were. "Way to

ruin the mood!"

Jiwoo laughed as he served the still smoking instant ramyun that did not look like instant ramyun at all.

The noodles were arranged well at the center of the bowl. Half of a soy-flavored egg and thinly sliced

pieces of chashu meat adorned the side. There was a generous serving of plump shitake mushrooms

as well as green onions, and cut pieces of seasoned laver. And there's that unique aroma coming from

it that I just couldn't quite identify. I sniffed it all in, all the flavors and the aroma, and was starting to

salivate.

"I took out some side dishes," Jiwoo said. "Just in case you want some."

We ate in silence – or rather, we couldn't speak as we both busied ourselves with our bowls of hot,

steaming ramyun. The only noise in the house was the sound of our lips blowing the noodles cold, and

of our slurps as they slide down our throats.

"What's that smell?" I asked, still failing to identify that special aroma that made the ramyun

exponentially tempting. "I can't seem to get it. It's like freshly ground nuts."

Jiwoo smiled patronizingly. "Almost there."

"I get it!" I exclaimed. "It's sesame oil. Did I have one in the pantry?"

Jiwoo nodded and suddenly spoke in fluent Korean. "You done with the noodles? Shall we mix in the

rice?"

"Fuck! You can speak Korean?" I answered back in equally fluent but less than respectful Korean. "I

can't believe this."

Jiwoo laughed loudly. "There's a charity institute that teaches us Korean-Filipinos about the language

and the culture of the swines who left us to rot here."

Jiwoo was laughing but what he said felt like a heavy blow. Not to me, per se, but it was painful to hear

nonetheless.

"Do you hate him?" I asked. "Your father?"

Jiwoo shrugged. "How do you hate someone you haven't met? Anyway, you haven't answered my

question. Do I mix the rice?"

It seemed that Jiwoo didn't want to discuss his father's issue anymore and it wouldn't be respectful if I

probed further. "Rice? I'm in."

Jiwoo fetched some rice from the rice cooker and dumped generous servings to his bowl and mine. We

let the rice sit in the ramyun soup for a few seconds before we started eating again.

"Ahhh," I said, savoring the taste of the soup-infused rice. "When it comes to instant noodles, Shin

Ramyun really is the best."

Jiwoo nodded in agreement. "Eat some kimchi."

Kimchi? How far exactly is Jiwoo's connection to Korean culture? I knew that his father was a Korean

tourist who left after knocking up his mom, but... how much does he really know about Korea?

"You know, to be honest with you..." I began, "I have a lot of resentment towards Korea."

Jiwoo looked up at me expectantly, a spoonful of rice halfway towards his face.

"I used to work in Korea, you know." I said.

Jiwoo nodded and proceeded to swallow the rice before turning to his chopsticks to get a piece of

kimchi to go along with it. This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

"I worked for Samsong Group's head office in Seoul."

"Really?" Jiwoo asked. "And you quit to pursue cooking?"

I shook my head. "I got fired because the CEO saw me kissing JM."

I put down my spoon but Jiwoo kept on eating.

"It seems like I have something to thank JM for," he said.

"What? For getting me fired?"

Jiwoo shook his head again. "If not for him, then I wouldn't have met you, right?"

I don't really know why but I couldn't stop myself from asking it. "Why do you like me?"

Jiwoo burped softly after cleaning up his bowl. He put his spoon down and turned to me.

"I actually thought you were straight," I said. "Which is why I thought that you have some ulterior

motive."

Jiwoo didn't answer. He continued staring at me and it was making me talk more.

"I mean; you know..." I didn't know how to put it the subtlest way possible. "I thought there's no way a

hot, straight guy would fall for someone like me, you know."

Jiwoo kept staring at me and not saying anything. And I'm getting more and more scared that I was

somehow offending him with my line of questioning.

"And you said it that time, too." I continued. "Remember? You told me you were willing to date me if I

pay up. You said you'd sleep me if I pay up. And your brother, too. Jeremy! He's being sponsored by

Mowcah. Jeremy himself admitted it."

"Why are you acting defensive?" Jiwoo finally spoke. "You have every right to doubt me."

I avoided Jiwoo's gaze by looking at my knees instead.

"I have nothing compared to that Robert guy," Jiwoo added.

"That's not what I meant," I said rather quietly.

"It's true, though." Jiwoo said. "I don't have a car. I don't have a house. I wear cheap white t-shirts

every day. I can't even afford an iPhone. It's natural to doubt people like me. And that's partly why I

believe people should date other people in their own leagues."

I kept quiet at that.

"Don't get me wrong, though." Jiwoo added abruptly. "I'll do everything to join your league."

And then Jiwoo gave me the silliest wink ever; I couldn't help it but laugh out loud.

"I'm serious." Jiwoo said. "Just give me a few years, BJ. I'll make sure I catch up to you, Faye, and

Robert."

It seemed impossible, to be honest. How on earth is he going to match up our accumulated wealth

when he's doesn't have any capital to start with? But I didn't want to say that out loud. It's the thought

that counts, anyway.

"But why do you like me?" I asked again.

Jiwoo frowned and seemed to be deep in thought. "I was sure that I liked you the moment I met you."

It was my turn to frown now. "Bull."

"No, really." Jiwoo appealed. "I liked you as a person. You were rich but you weren't a snob. You had

that air of being self-made. I liked it."

"Huh?"

Jiwoo scratched his head and frowned again. "I was sure that I like you. What I wasn't sure about was

whether I'm attracted to you physically, too."

And I understood it.

"So when did you realize that you're attracted to me, too?"

Jiwoo's cheeks turned red. "I'm not telling."

"Come on!" I complained, "I'll go first, then. I started getting really physically attracted to you when I

saw you changing over at Maxwell's. I saw your tattoo and I thought your back was really sexy."

Jiwoo smiled naughtily. "I'm still not telling you."

"What?! That's unfair!"

I jumped off the high stool and ran towards the opposite side of the kitchen island where Jiwoo was and

started tickling him.

"I'm not telling you!" Jiwoo shouted, trying his best to fend off my attacks. "Stop, BJ!"

We wrestled for a bit and ultimately, with his height and strength, Jiwoo won. He had me pinned down

on the floor of the kitchen, his hands firm on my wrists, and his legs keeping mine in check.

"I said stop," Jiwoo said and he wasn't smiling this time. "You're making me hard again."

I felt Jiwoo's growing hardness on my left thigh and I caught myself biting my lower lip.

"Don't ask me when I started getting attracted to you," Jiwoo commanded. "Because whenever I

remember it, I always end up like this."

Jiwoo rubbed his erection against my thigh in slow up and down motions.

"Fuck me," I said, as I forced Jiwoo's mouth open with mine in an aggressive kiss.

Jiwoo didn't answer back with words, but he surely did confirm his intentions when he helped me stand

up and dragged me back to my room with great difficulty, as our progress was impeded by our very

own desires, arms and legs entangled as we struggled to reach out and touch as much of each other's

bodies as we could.

We entered the first door of the master's bedroom and Jiwoo pinned me against the wall, his teeth

biting at my neck and shoulders ever so lightly, his left hand violently caressing my raised leg, and his

left twirling my nipple harder that I would have liked.

I pushed him off of me and tugged at his hand as I led him towards the next door where my waiting

area was at. We stumbled on the couch and armchairs and I almost kicked my beloved SMEG mini-

fridge as Jiwoo professionally gotten rid of my pajama bottoms.

We ended up doing it on the carpet of the waiting room just before the actual bedroom and I'm pretty

sure my Dolce and Gabbana silk pj's are now ruined because Jiwoo ripped them apart. But it didn't

really matter now. I was happy.

"You're right," I said. "Sex solves everything."

Jiwoo laughed. And we continued to round three.