Chapter 81

“What?”

Reacting to the sudden movement, the finger inside accidentally scraped against the sensitive inner wall. Flinching violently, Gi-hyeon glared at Yeon-oh.

“Why are you doing this? Just hurry up and get it over with.”

This was completely, horrifyingly different from their previous sexual encounters. Yeon-oh was constantly, anxiously monitoring Gi-hyeon’s reactions, and the finger working inside him was moving with agonizing, tender care. It was deeply unsettling. Since Yeon-oh had absolutely never bothered with prep work before, Gi-hyeon was convinced this was some sadistic, prolonged mockery.

Yeon-oh stared at Gi-hyeon with a blank, uncomprehending expression. His thick Adam’s apple bobbed slowly before he finally asked,

“The first time you did it. …Did that bastard not even prep you?”

Gi-hyeon thought it was a bizarre fucking question to ask right now, but he answered with an exasperated sigh.

“…He acted like that kind of stuff was completely unnecessary.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Back then, despite Gi-hyeon frantically protesting that it wouldn’t fit, Yeon-oh was the one who had ruthlessly shoved his way inside. Miraculously, because Gi-hyeon was already so slick, he hadn’t bled even when a glans the size of a child’s fist was brutally forced into him.

Because of that brutal introduction, Gi-hyeon had assumed that was just how gay sex worked. He figured extensive prep and slow, careful insertion were exclusively reserved for women. Since women were smaller, possessed more fragile bone structures, and were generally more delicate, he assumed accommodating penetration was inherently more difficult for them. But he was a grown man. He figured rough, unlubricated entry was just the standard male experience.

“You… what the actual fuck.”

In that instant, Yeon-oh’s pheromones plummeted, turning impossibly heavy and dark. Feeling a terrifying chill rip down his spine, Gi-hyeon realized Yeon-oh was violently furious. But why? Gi-hyeon wondered blankly. While he stared at the man kneeling between his legs, Yeon-oh abruptly withdrew his finger, grabbed Gi-hyeon’s thighs to force them wider apart, and buried his face directly into Gi-hyeon’s crotch.

“Jo Yeon-oh—! Ah, ugh—!”

Startled, Gi-hyeon screamed his name, fully intending to order him to stop, but Yeon-oh was faster. The wet, rough drag of a tongue violently invading his hole made Gi-hyeon throw his head back, his entire body convulsing.

“Wait, no. Stop—!”

Things like this had happened in the past, but even when Yeon-oh had been far more aggressive and sloppy, Gi-hyeon had always relied on the psychological shield that Yeon-oh was blackout drunk and possessed absolutely zero awareness that he was sleeping with So Gi-hyeon. Gi-hyeon had weaponized that technicality, hiding behind that fragile, cowardly barrier to endure their encounters. Even when Yeon-oh had his tongue buried in his ass, producing obscene, slurping noises, it hadn’t been So Gi-hyeon he was fucking.

But that shield was entirely nonexistent right now. Jo Yeon-oh was completely sober, fully cognizant of exactly who he was touching, and currently having sex with Gi-hyeon. How is he capable of doing this? Gi-hyeon panicked.

“No, seriously… Ugh, I said no… Jo Yeon-oh, please…”

Despite Gi-hyeon trembling violently and begging him to stop, Yeon-oh ruthlessly ignored the pleas. The rough tongue aggressively licked the swollen perineum before a loud thwack echoed as he forcefully sucked on the sensitive flesh. Gi-hyeon thrashed his head back and forth, groaning in agony. He said no repeatedly, but Yeon-oh completely disregarded the begging.

By the time Yeon-oh finally lifted his head from between Gi-hyeon’s thighs, Gi-hyeon’s fully erect cock had already spasmed, leaking a single, pathetic drop of cum. Because the climax had been agonizingly suppressed, the erection remained painfully engorged, flushed a deep, throbbing crimson. Flicking the aching shaft with a finger, Yeon-oh swore.

“I don’t care who that fucking bastard is, I’m going to track him down and smash his fucking skull in.”

“Hng… Ugh…”

The flick against his overstimulated cock was borderline agonizing; Gi-hyeon could only moan in distress. He couldn’t even muster the brainpower to scream, ‘That fucking bastard is you, you retard.’ Completely oblivious to Gi-hyeon’s spiraling panic, Yeon-oh suddenly shoved something inside him.

Unlike the dry finger from earlier, this intrusion was slick with lubricant. Gi-hyeon realized the condom box that had been sitting nearby was now open. It felt as though Yeon-oh had slipped a condom over his fingers. As the lubricated digits pressed deep inside, sweeping in wide, firm circles against the inner walls, Gi-hyeon sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.

“…Does it hurt?”

“No, ugh, this is just… it feels weird…”

Gi-hyeon shook his head, entirely unaware of what he was saying. After an eternity of that agonizingly slow, internal massage, Yeon-oh’s fingers finally slipped out.

His fingers still slick with the condom’s lubricant, Yeon-oh grabbed Gi-hyeon’s knees, forced them wider, and pressed his own crotch directly against Gi-hyeon’s. Even through his daze, Gi-hyeon was amazed to see Yeon-oh’s erection standing at such a violently rigid angle that the tip was practically plastered against his own navel.

Yeon-oh snatched a condom wrapper from the pile, tore it open with his teeth, and began rolling it onto his cock. Watching the struggle, Gi-hyeon asked, genuinely bewildered.

“…Hey, are condoms usually that massive?”

“This isn’t big. It’s too tight, it fucking hurts.”

Muttering that they didn’t have his actual size, Yeon-oh grimaced as he painfully forced the latex down the thick shaft, letting out a frustrated groan. It clearly looked agonizingly tight. Appalled, Gi-hyeon offered a logical solution.

“Just take it off and do it bare. I’m already pregnant, so what’s the point of contraception?”

“…Shut your fucking mouth, you annoying bastard. You’re pissing me off.”

It was a childish, petulant curse that belonged on a playground, not in a hotel bed. While Gi-hyeon clicked his tongue in disbelief, Yeon-oh—having sufficiently prepped the hole until it was practically drooling—aligned his thick glans with the entrance and began a slow, agonizingly steady invasion.

“Mmm, ah… Yeon-oh, I don’t think… I don’t think it’s going to fit…”

“Hold on, ugh…”

Only the head had breached the entrance, yet Gi-hyeon felt like he was being physically split in half; the pressure was so intense he couldn’t breathe. As Gi-hyeon frantically shook his head in distress, Yeon-oh carefully braced his weight on his forearms—planting them beside Gi-hyeon’s head to avoid crushing his stomach—while using one hand to hook Gi-hyeon’s thigh and pull it up, wrapping it securely around his own waist.

“Ah, ahh…”

Since the last time they had sex was right before he fled Seoul, it had been quite a while. Consequently, the agonizingly tight stretch felt like sheer torture. The only saving grace was that either the condom’s lubricant or his own natural slick provided enough slip to prevent any friction burns. Still, Gi-hyeon felt like his pelvis was being violently wrenched apart, forcing him to take deep, ragged breaths to manage the pain.

Meanwhile, Yeon-oh was only halfway inside.

While Gi-hyeon was drowning in the agonizing physical sensations assaulting him from below, he couldn’t help but marvel that Yeon-oh’s massive erection still hadn’t faltered. Suddenly, Yeon-oh violently slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. The brutal thrust forced Gi-hyeon’s inner walls to stretch to their absolute limit, entirely swallowing the massive cock.

“Ah, hk… Hng—!”

The catastrophic problem was that the brutal thrust had struck something incredibly sensitive deep inside; his inner walls immediately began to convulse, clamping down ferociously around the intrusion. Gi-hyeon’s already erect cock jerked violently, slapping wetly against his lower abdomen as it began leaking copious amounts of clear pre-cum. If he had been standing, it would have been enough fluid to pool in his belly button.

“Ah, hah… This is, ugh…”

The sensation was so excruciatingly intense—an agonizingly sharp, electrifying tickle—that Gi-hyeon involuntarily writhed his hips, desperately seeking relief. Yeon-oh remained rigidly braced above him, forearms planted by Gi-hyeon’s head, entirely supporting his own weight. Gi-hyeon vaguely registered the sound of harsh, ragged panting filling the room, only belatedly realizing it was coming from Yeon-oh.

“Haaah…”

“Are you… okay… Ah, hk…”

Gi-hyeon was just about to ask what was wrong when the sensation of lukewarm droplets rapidly splattering against his earlobe and neck made him blink his hazy eyes in confusion.

“Jo Yeon-oh, what are you…”

The instant Gi-hyeon called his name, Yeon-oh lifted his head. His cheeks were absolutely drenched in tears.

“Are you… crying…?”

Even staring right at him, Gi-hyeon couldn’t process the reality, stammering the question repeatedly. In that exact moment, something deep inside Gi-hyeon violently snapped.

“…Huh?”

Startled, Gi-hyeon looked down with a dazed expression. More specifically, he stared at the point where their groins were inextricably fused together. As he looked down, another heavy barrage of teardrops splattered directly onto his chest.

“…”

Gi-hyeon stared blankly up at Yeon-oh. Even though this was the second time he had seen the man cry, the sight remained profoundly, terrifyingly alien.

Through the wet, clumped eyelashes, the eyes staring down at Gi-hyeon were consumed by an apocalyptic storm of shock and agonizing resentment. That raw, visceral emotion felt as though it possessed its own gravitational pull, plummeting straight down and physically embedding itself into Gi-hyeon’s chest. 

Drip. 

A single teardrop fell precisely onto the corner of Gi-hyeon’s eye, rolling down his temple as if he were the one crying.

“…Jo Yeon-oh.”

In that transcendent second, Gi-hyeon felt something heavy and suffocating finally wash away. It was an emotion strikingly similar to the devastating clarity he had experienced the moment Yeon-oh first demanded they break up. It felt as though a thick, ugly scab that had clung to his wound for years finally peeled off. It was a sensation that was simultaneously liberating, stinging, and deeply agonizing. Gi-hyeon recognized this feeling intimately. Something fundamental within him had just met its absolute end.

Gi-hyeon reached out. He hesitated briefly mid-air, but ultimately, his trembling hand gently wiped the tears from Yeon-oh’s cheek.

“Don’t cry.”

Feeling the wet, agonizing heat of Yeon-oh’s face against his palm filled him with profound pity. He remembered Yeon-oh weeping silently in the hospital just hours earlier. Why are you crying so bitterly? And why are you making that specific face while you cry?

Gi-hyeon could no longer deny the agonizing truth: he was the only person on earth capable of reducing Jo Yeon-oh to tears. Just as Yeon-oh was everything to him, So Gi-hyeon was the singular, absolute center of Jo Yeon-oh’s universe. Regardless of the twisted form that obsession took, or the toxic meaning behind it, the reality remained absolute.

The truth was, Gi-hyeon had never wanted to inflict this kind of pain on Yeon-oh. So Gi-hyeon genuinely, deeply loved Jo Yeon-oh. He had only ever wanted to protect him and cherish him. As a man himself, why would he ever want to make the person he loved cry? Therefore, if So Gi-hyeon was the perpetual source of Jo Yeon-oh’s tears, Gi-hyeon was resolved to eradicate that source entirely, no matter the cost.

“Why are you crying, hm?”

Gi-hyeon whispered softly, gently patting Yeon-oh’s broad back. The imposing width of his shoulders, the crushing weight of his body—everything that defined the dominant Alpha currently buried deep inside him suddenly felt remarkably trivial. Perhaps Gi-hyeon had simply been obsessing over insignificant details. In the end, Jo Yeon-oh’s well-being was the only thing that truly mattered.

He thought he had surrendered years ago.

When he watched Yeon-oh demand a breakup on that hospital rooftop after confessing to sleeping with someone else, or when Yeon-oh furiously interrogated him, or during the countless other agonizing moments that scarred their history—Gi-hyeon genuinely believed he had given up on him then.

But he hadn’t.

So Gi-hyeon simply couldn’t abandon Jo Yeon-oh based solely on the wounds inflicted upon himself.

The pain he had absorbed simply wasn’t a sufficient justification to walk away. Because despite the agony, he still wanted to cherish Yeon-oh this desperately. He wanted to treat him as something impossibly precious. Even if it wasn’t the kind of love Yeon-oh actually wanted, Gi-hyeon wanted to provide it purely out of his own selfish devotion. Only now, fully comprehending the absolute, staggering depth of his own love, was he finally capable of surrendering this excruciating, relentless emotion.

I always loved you. I always liked you. Even in those agonizing moments when Yeon-oh’s cruel words buried themselves in his chest, violently crushing his heart and wringing the oxygen from his lungs, he had still loved him.

But So Gi-hyeon’s foolish, pathetic love had finally reached its terminus. He had intentionally acted repulsive, hoping Yeon-oh would abandon him in disgust, but in the end, the defeat belonged entirely to the man hopelessly in love. He had wanted to make Yeon-oh as happy as the depth of his own love, but it felt as though he had failed every single time, a failure that had constantly tormented him. Yet now, Gi-hyeon finally felt liberated enough to grant Yeon-oh his ultimate wish.

From this moment forward, Gi-hyeon believed he was genuinely, finally prepared to return to being nothing more than Jo Yeon-oh’s friend. From the agonizing day he accidentally witnessed Yeon-oh shielding his girlfriend with an umbrella, letting his own shoulder get soaked in the rain, until this very second. The curtain call he had been preparing for over a decade had finally arrived.

Gi-hyeon’s first love had been an excruciatingly long, agonizingly beautiful tragedy.