His lips pressed down on the skin. The man smiled with jaws that looked ready to bite into his nape at any moment. It was a threatening smile.
“…….”
Woonghee now had to satisfy this man. Even though both that man and he himself knew all of this was a dog-like play.
…But that damned thing—what exactly does “pretending to love” even mean?
People often said this. The lust between omega and alpha is similar to the mating of praying mantises, isn’t it? When the female drips pheromones to seduce the male, the male thrusts his greatly swollen cock into the female’s body.
And in that process, the female tears off and devours the male’s head…. For egg fertilization and energy replenishment, or something like that.
Where is love in that horrific and utterly disgusting process? And we’re the same right now.
Is this really love? Woonghee devoured food in the man’s arms, munch munch. As if tearing off his head to eat it.
Gi Junhyuk, that bastard had eyes that were extremely ecstatic. He’d already gotten drunk on his own performance. Wasn’t the grease on his lips dirty? The man wiped it with his thumb and sucked it with his tongue.
Just look at those eyes watching him. The voracious gaze seemed like it would swallow him whole. It was like the pitch-black eyes of a praying mantis with only instinct remaining.
Right, let’s go all the way to the end. Even if his head gets completely torn off and both legs are wrecked, leaving him crawling on all fours, he’ll throw his body to see what’s at this end.
***
The man’s new island was isolated.
No, this cruise that he’d personally isolated was more splendid and massive than any island Woonghee had been to.
A swimming pool, sauna, tennis court, even a movie theater….
Everything was perfect so one could live here for a lifetime without lacking anything.
“Haah….”
Woonghee panted while gripping his tennis racket. He, who’d finished the rally together, chuckled. Unlike Woonghee whose face was full of flush, the man was merely peacefully wetting his throat with cold water.
It was his limit. Woonghee, whose upper body had collapsed, held onto his knees and endured. Something plopped down onto Woonghee’s head. Whoof, his body scent rushed in.
“What is this…!”
Soon he heard the click of even his belt being undone. Woonghee peeled off the clothing as if escaping from a net. He moved his feet barefoot, taking off even his shoes. The man, who’d quickly become naked, entered the shower room placed to one side.
“Come in.”
A low voice resonated against the thick walls. Hesitation had to be brief. Woonghee immediately followed Managing Director Gi.
The man was burying his body in the jacuzzi. Soft white foam rose up and wetted his body. His rock-like shoulders rose above the water, and his forearms spread wide on both sides were truly threatening.
“You should come in, the water’s getting cold.”
With a flinch, Woonghee unknowingly trembled his knees. Did that bastard have eyes on the back of his head too? He slowly approached him as he muttered without even looking back. Soon he gripped his thick shoulders in his hands and gently massaged the muscles.
His fingers dug into the stiffened tendons. Ahh, he sighed low. Gladly, as if he’d been waiting.
Woonghee spread his palms wide and slowly stroked down his back. The heated flesh and muscles undulated roughly like waves beneath his palms.
“Mm….”
The man bent his neck backward. With his head deeply buried in Woonghee’s thighs, he lazily let out moans then slowly opened his eyes.
“Did your first man teach you well?”
…First man? At his words, Woonghee’s lips twitched. As he tried to spit out words, the man frowned as if displeased. Splash, he splashed water.
“Did Woonghee-ssi learn manners from some neighborhood bastard?”
“…What?”
Woonghee furrowed his brow as if asking what he meant. Why was he throwing a tantrum again all of a sudden? Lately Gi Junhyuk was often like this. As if he’d newly realized that all of this was a play that started under mutual agreement.
Water slid down his handsome forehead. When he frowned his thick eyebrows, a deep valley formed and water pooled there.
Could this man really be jealous? …No, that’s not it. He mustn’t be fooled. This too was just part of that terrible love game.
“It’s not proper to carelessly mention men you’ve met before.”
He scratched inside his throat savagely and spat out his displeasure. Then he smiled savagely, saying if they were in front of him he would’ve shoved a bullet into their head.
“…My first man.”
Woonghee bit down on his lower lip then released it again. A soft sucking sound quietly rang out.
“Is you, Gi Junhyuk-ssi.”
Woonghee looked down at him. Though it was something he said to keep rhythm with his love game, it wasn’t a lie. The man lying with his head against his thighs, this man with thick eyebrows, an impudently high nose bridge, and lips that always spoke only lies—he was his first man.
“…….”
The man who’d been constantly running his mouth until now said nothing. As if he’d finally bitten his tongue and died as he’d wished.
Why is he acting like that? Could he not believe my words? Even while thinking that, Woonghee diligently put strength into his grip and gently massaged the man’s thick nape. The firm muscles elastically pushed back Woonghee’s fingers. It was truly a strong body no matter when he looked at it.
“I learned massage when doing manual labor—”
“…….”
“From the older men.”
After spitting it out, he realized. It was a completely useless statement. To call it part of the love game, it wasn’t romantic, didn’t overflow with thrills, and didn’t make dopamine boil. It felt like the audience would pour out.
Woonghee didn’t continue speaking further. He kept his reddish lips obediently shut. Then swish, a large hand that stretched out grabbed his wrist.
“Do more.”
Then he urged. To talk more about himself. What, what more should I say…?
“Talk more about Woonghee-ssi.”
Bewitching gazes met, and the atmosphere strangely boiled up. What on earth could he bring up to this person? His stories were all completely filthy, sordid, damp, and filled with gloom.
“I was doing concrete work on the 3rd floor railing, when suddenly the stairs collapsed.”
He’d been very lucky. Because he fell onto a place where garbage bags were piled up. The smell was fucking terrible, and his back hurt so much he thought he’d die, but his limbs were intact. Not a single arm or leg was broken.
So he carried bricks and crawled back up. Gritting his teeth, he finished the remaining work. Only after that did he massage himself alone on the construction site with the lights off and return home.
“…Why?”
The man asked. Why did he have to hide so secretively and swallow his pain?
“…Well, because my younger sibling was at home.”
“Because your sibling would’ve worried if they knew?”
The man’s fingers tapped the bathtub, tap, tap. Water pooled on the ceiling dripped down into the tub, drip drip.
Woonghee blinked slowly. Why was the man asking about such things? It was uncomfortable. His stories should stay pooled in damp back alleys giving off a rotting smell. Why was he trying to bring them out like this?
Can’t you and I just take out and touch and suck each other’s dicks instead of this…? A strange displeasure rose. If possible, he wanted to escape from this situation. If there was even a rat hole, he’d stick his head in it.
But had the man ever once moved as he wanted? He didn’t stop there.
“What kind of emotion do you feel toward your sibling?”
Tell me, he whispered sweetly.
“Tell even an emotionless psycho bastard like me.”
Woonghee looked into his pitch-black eyes. Like these dark pupils, emotions were like a black hole to this man. He wouldn’t be able to look inside it until he died.
…Guilt, how should he explain that emotion to this man? Woonghee continued speaking as if caressing that invisible emotion.
“…Like chicken porridge I forgot and left behind.”
It was some summer. He’d caught a cold that even dogs supposedly don’t catch and suffered from a high fever close to 40 degrees. Drunk on the feverish heat, he slept deeply and didn’t hear the alarm. When he jumped up in a fluster, he was already late for his part-time job. He had to immediately rush out of the house in a hurry.
He arrived frantically and got cursed at to death. What was it again? A bastard without parents has no concept of time. Manual labor sites were originally like that. Everyone spoke with knives in their mouths regardless of hierarchy, and Woonghee without parents was meat that was perfect to chew on.
However, Woonghee slowly recalled something.
‘…Ah, Woongju had made chicken porridge for me.’
In this weather, if left alone it would spoil, bugs would gather, and he’d been anxious about it. And sure enough, when he returned home, Woongju had already cleaned it up. Was she very upset?
But the words Woongju conveyed weren’t resentment.
‘Oppa, were you very busy?’
What she said to him with a small smile was that. That day’s chicken porridge was the warmth Woonghee had missed. Right, that was guilt. That taste that boiled inside him for a long while even though it never touched his tongue.
“I was sorry, to my sibling….”
Only after spitting out words so incoherently did Woonghee flush his cheeks. Before he knew it, even his earlobes had reddened. He’d spoken too honestly. To be babbling just this sort of thing. It was shabby and pathetic, truly very wretched.
He bit and rolled his lips because such things didn’t seem romantic at all.
Then, soft lips touched the back of Woonghee’s hand with a smooch. True to his nature with a frontal lobe that was broken somewhere, he quietly kissed.
“Your hands are dirty, and your face is pretty enough to curse at.”
The man was extremely pleased. His cheeks were flushed red, and the corners of his mouth were curled up on their own.
“Every time I learn what thoughts went through that small head, it feels like my cock stands up stiffly.”
He was now completely excited about something. It was an expression of joy greater than when he’d raised the adrenaline in his body to its peak playing tennis. Which part of him had moved this man?
“Aren’t you curious how your sibling is living?”
“…….”
“Should I look into it for you?”
