Without realizing it, the corners of his mouth crept up slowly. The sensation transmitted through his fingers just now made his whole body tingle. Ah, right. He’d wanted to kill Taesung. And at the same time…
Jaeha stroked Taesung’s cheek.
Perhaps he’d wanted to caress him like this.
The moisture pooled around Taesung’s eyes trickled down along his temple. Jaeha stuck out his tongue and licked up the tear tracks from the bottom. It tasted like the sea. From the outside it was just salty, but if you drank it while submerged inside, it was a forbidden taste that would drown you.
But hyung, I won’t let myself be submerged in you.
Because you’re a human who doesn’t have that value.
No matter what curses he spewed with his mouth, Taesung’s ‘master’ was Jang Hyeokjin. So even if he pretended to care and worry right now, when the critical moment came, he was a human who would stab a knife into Jaeha’s heart following his master’s orders.
Like ‘that time.’
So sometimes I think the only way to completely have you is to kill you, hyung.
Even if I kill Jang Hyeokjin, it’s obvious you’ll think about that bastard until you die like a loyal dog guarding its master’s grave.
But the problem is, dead things decay too easily. Especially your worn and worn body might rot faster than others. This arousing face disappearing, leaving only a skull full of holes, and never being able to hear again that sweet voice that sighs the moment it sees me—the smooth skin I’m stroking and the firm muscles I can grasp satisfyingly under my hand turning into mush—that’s too much of a waste, so I can’t kill you.
Then Jaeha bit Taesung’s lower lip. When he moistened the chapped lips from breathing roughly with saliva, they swelled plumply like jelly. The lips were red, but his saliva tasted like sweet Shine Muscat. If he kept Taesung’s lips in his mouth any longer, he felt like he’d chew them up like the grape berries he’d popped one by one in his mouth, so Jaeha penetrated inside his parted lips. Even while unconscious, Taesung pursed his lips and skillfully sucked on Jaeha’s tongue that had penetrated between his teeth. Fuck, just like a slut bastard, sucking on anything that enters his mouth.
He pulled his lips away. Taesung’s tongue followed Jaeha out past his lips. Without resistance, wanting to suck, begging to be shoved in more.
He must have sucked all the fingers, tongues, and cock heads that all those bastards shoved in like that.
How many fucking bastards must have passed through him? Looking at how he greedily sucked even in this unconscious state, Taesung probably couldn’t even remember how many cocks were shoved into his mouth.
He didn’t want to see that mouth twitching as if constantly wanting something. So he slapped his cheek. The corner of his mouth tore and blood seeped out.
Taesung’s brow furrowed. He didn’t wake up. Just the moisture pooled around his eyes trickled down again. It was the tears caused by Jaeha that he’d so desperately wanted, but somehow he didn’t want to see them anymore. Jaeha grabbed Taesung’s hair and flipped his body over. Taesung’s face was buried in the pillow.
Just stay like this.
It doesn’t matter who fucks you anyway. You’re probably expecting it, opening your hole for anything to be shoved in.
But today I want you to hurt, hyung.
Rather than moaning in pleasure when I shove mine in, I want you to be in so much pain you can’t even think about getting your cock hard, just streaming tears and screaming.
Then at least mine isn’t familiar to you.
He pulled down Taesung’s pants. He wanted to ram it in without any foreplay and tear him until blood streamed out. He spread his buttocks and spat on the tightly clenched hole. Jaeha took out his half-erect cock and rubbed it against his ass crack. He tried to forcefully shove the tip of his glans in, but it wouldn’t open easily. Had he only been doing it with guys as thin as fingers somewhere—it was absurd that a hole that had been offered around everywhere was so tight, but he didn’t feel entirely bad about it.
I guess there weren’t many bastards with something like this. Then it’ll hurt. You’ll wake up when I fuck you. Screaming, “Ah, someone save me.”
He rubbed his cock, slippery with saliva, from the ass crack down to the perineum, pressing firmly. Jaeha let out a low moan and slammed his lower body against Taesung’s buttocks with a smacking sound. Taesung’s body jerked greatly. The tightly closed hole twitched and clung to Jaeha’s cock that was gradually becoming excited.
Fuck, you love cock that much?
Really begging to be fucked.
Jaeha gritted his molars and firmly gripped Taesung’s waist. Taesung’s shirt rode up, revealing the tattoo that covered his lower back in black. Letting out rough breaths—whether from indignation or arousal, he didn’t know—Jaeha pulled up Taesung’s shirt.
Ha, what a salacious tattoo you got.
When he was young, every time Taesung’s tattoo filling his back showed faintly through his thin shirt, Jaeha said he wanted to see it clearly. But Taesung rarely showed his tattoo. While grumbling that tattoos hurt like hell and he’d never do it twice, he always kept the result—engraved stitch by stitch into his skin while swallowing that pain—hidden tightly inside his shirt.
Once or twice, he’d accidentally seen his back.
It was a pattern of a pitch-black snake, holding its head high below the nape of his neck, crawling sinuously across his broad back. Each black scale was carefully painted so that whenever Taesung’s muscles moved, it created the illusion that the snake was really moving alive.
And the lush peony that the snake was coiled around, or that was coiled around the snake.
Perhaps because of the dynamic form of the snake, even though the abundantly blooming flower filled the entire back, the tattoo evoked a splendid and eerie feeling rather than being pretty. It suited Taesung. But Jaeha knew well that Taesung wasn’t the kind of person to choose this kind of tattoo himself.
If Taesung had wanted it, with his aesthetic sense that was nonexistent, he would have asked for something like a Vajrapani or a roaring tiger to be engraved. He would have filled his back and chest completely with a tacky tattoo stuffed full of five colors that would make anyone frown. There’s no way he would have chosen this eerie tattoo that even felt sensual.
So this was something someone carefully selected to raise his ‘commodity value.’
So they could enjoy a good view while doing it from behind—a tattoo carefully selected for the enjoyment of those who would be shoving into his hole, not Taesung himself.
So even though he wanted to peel off all that back skin and erase it, that pitch-black snake writhing on Taesung’s back suited this body’s owner damn well.
Jaeha traced the snake’s body along Taesung’s spine. The sweat-soaked scales sparkled, reflecting the city lights pouring in through the window.
To be honest, it was arousing.
Where would vulgar taste go?
As he traced Taesung’s back following the sinuous snake, his lower body pressed against him gradually stiffened. Precum flowed out, making his buttocks slippery. Jaeha let out a rough breath and positioned his tip at Taesung’s hole. The damn hole was constantly gaping, expecting anything to be shoved in.
Not even in heat but desperately begging to be fucked. Hyung, why did you go around crying when you were crazy for cock like this? Did you feel more vulgar after crying? So you cried as if seeking absolution, and only I thought differently?
The moment Jaeha’s hand, which had been sliding down along the snake’s body, touched Taesung’s waist, it stopped abruptly. With his excited cock pressed against the hole, Jaeha felt his head cool down. It must be an illusion—he tried to ignore it and continue the act. But the moment he moved his hand from the waist to the side, he ultimately had no choice but to give up on insertion.
Fuck, really.
He bit his lower lip until blood seeped out. Jaeha squeezed both eyes shut to kill his arousal. When his vision went dark, his finger sensations became more sensitive. Enough that he could feel more clearly the form of the keloid scars protruding messily on Taesung’s waist that his fingertips touched.
It’s ridiculous too.
While I recognized at a glance from the tattoo that it wasn’t Taesung’s taste, I didn’t think about ‘why’ he had to get that tattoo.
Old scars had sporadic healed marks, making it difficult to tell what their original form had been. But the mark engraved where Jaeha’s finger first touched—he could clearly tell what shape it had been.
Five crude straight lines drawn with something like a knife or awl.
It was the character for ‘correct’ (正).
Why is it that whenever I try to do something to you, hyung, you show me that you’ve come back after suffering shitty treatment from other fucking bastards?
Then fuck, I can’t completely hate you.
The scars were scattered here and there on his waist and back.
Obscenities and meaningless cuts from knives, and burn scars from cigarettes dotted here and there—over the remaining skin, the snake’s body densely covered with pitch-black scales was slithering past.
Jaeha rested his forehead on the snake’s head full of wounds.
His arousal hadn’t subsided, but he didn’t want to continue anymore.
At least not this day.
