Chapter 50

“You can still say that after seeing Hong Soon-ja yesterday?” Choi Yook demanded, his brow arching.

“Even if her methods were extreme, her intention was to save the child.”

Seo Mu-yeong defended Hong Soon-ja to justify his own argument. Twisting his lips into a lopsided sneer, Choi Yook leaned further forward, his stifled laugh laced with unmistakable venom. As his damp hair swayed, a shower of water droplets spattered across Seo Mu-yeong’s thighs.

“So it’s fine if I die?”

The question was delivered in a quiet, deceptively calm tone, yet Mu-yeong knew that giving the wrong answer would prove catastrophic. But before he could even part his lips, Choi Yook gave a placid nod.

“Then again, what could be better for Seo Mu-yeong-ssi?” Choi Yook drawled with chilling sarcasm. “You wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around anyone anymore, you wouldn’t have to run these miserable errands, and you’d be free to chase after Sijin’s tail to your heart’s content.”

A heavy droplet of water tracked down Choi Yook’s high cheekbone. Reaching out, Seo Mu-yeong took hold of the towel draped around the man’s neck. Gently pressing the soft edge against his cheek to absorb the moisture, Mu-yeong replied with supple poise.

“You cannot die, Section Chief. Because…”

Choi Yook’s dark pupils bored into Seo Mu-yeong’s eyes. Mu-yeong felt the words he had uttered on a whim solidifying into inescapable truth beneath that searing stare. The momentum of his speech slowed to a hesitant crawl.

Seo Mu-yeong could not purge Choi Yook from this world. And that wasn’t merely because the man wasn’t the target of his vengeance.

In the entire wide world, Choi Yook was the only person who could truly perceive Seo Mu-yeong. He was the only human being to whom Mu-yeong could pour out the darkness festering inside his chest.

At the very least, until he reclaimed his name, Mu-yeong needed him. Perhaps even after that. Even if the day came when every person in the world could perceive him, that held a fundamentally different weight from having a single soul whose gaze locked exclusively onto him.

It wasn’t that he never felt the urge to smash an aluminum bat against the back of Choi Yook’s skull and bolt. Yet imagining this imposing man collapsed on the cold floor, never to rise again, stirred a strange, hollow ache in his chest.

Tension tightened the tips of his fingers, crumpling the thick fabric of the towel in his grasp. The damp chill seeped into the skin of Mu-yeong’s hand.

Unable to tear his gaze away from Choi Yook, Seo Mu-yeong slowly lowered the towel. Unlike his thighs, which were steadily growing soaked from the dripping moisture, his throat was parched dry.

“…Because if something happens to you, Section Chief, Sijin will be heartbroken. You’re his only brother, after all.”

Seo Mu-yeong forced a smile to conclude his sentence. He was just about to release his grip on the towel completely.

Choi Yook abruptly seized Seo Mu-yeong’s wrist. His tightly sealed lips parted at a crooked angle.

“Ah, is that so?” Choi Yook let out a chilling sneer. His lip curled into a bitter sneer. “So I’m just a bonus attached to Sijin. If Sijin had two or three more older brothers, you would have tried to kill me with your own hands. Just so you could drop by the funeral home to catch a glimpse of Sijin.”

“I wouldn’t have done that. Taking a human life might be simple for you, Section Chief, but it certainly isn’t for me. Even so, it’s only natural that Sijin comes first in my priorities.”

Countering the jab with an easy, gentle smile, Seo Mu-yeong asked, “Is that really an issue? You used me knowing all of this from the start. To you, Section Chief, Sijin comes first as well, while I’m merely a tool to find the child. If I were to die, it might be annoying and inconvenient, but you’d simply track down someone else to take my place.”

It was an undeniable truth, yet it left a bitter, twisted knot in his gut. The grip around Seo Mu-yeong’s wrist tightened with bruising force. Raising his other hand, Choi Yook clamped down hard on Mu-yeong’s jaw, his calloused thumb mashing into the seam of his lips.

“I will remember this for a long time,” Choi Yook mocked, his voice thick with derision. “The sight of your face as you disgustingly sucked on my fingers was quite something to behold.”

Choi Yook yanked Seo Mu-yeong’s jaw closer as the mockery spilled from his lips. A stray droplet falling from his dark hair tracked down Mu-yeong’s cheek before pooling over his parted lips.

Seo Mu-yeong darted his tongue out and licked away the chilled droplet. As the tip of his tongue grazed Choi Yook’s fingertips, a faint furrow creased between Choi Yook’s brows.

If you hate it that much, you shouldn’t make it so obvious. Seo Mu-yeong curled the corners of his lips upward.

“You must have been exceptionally satisfied, Section Chief. I can’t tell whether I’m just a natural or if your fingers are an erogenous zone. Would you like me to lick them some more?”

Choi Yook smirked. He mashed Seo Mu-yeong’s lips beneath his thumb as though determined to break him, by whatever means necessary. Then, unexpectedly, he withdrew his hand without further resistance.

“No, I’m thinking of getting a different kind of service.”

“A different service?” Mu-yeong asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You made me an offer when we spoke on the phone this morning,” Choi Yook remarked casually. “You said that while it’s not official errand center business, extracting your own cum was something you could do anytime at your own discretion.”

Beneath his relaxed delivery lay a cutting chill. Mu-yeong could only part his lips, unable to offer an answer. He felt as though he had brought the axe down squarely on his own foot.

Choi Yook fixed a chilly gaze upon Mu-yeong’s agitation—a rare sight for someone who so seldom lost his composure. Between Mu-yeong’s parted, moist lips, the pink tip of his tongue peeked out. As if troubled, the soft flesh swept back across the roof of his mouth, retreating inward. His pale cheek swelled slightly, bulging as though something had been stuffed inside.

Any reason for Choi Yook to show consideration for Mu-yeong’s predicament dissolved completely. Grasping Mu-yeong’s wrist, Choi Yook dragged his hand down and planted it firmly against the waistband of his own trousers. His unblinking downward gaze gleamed like that of a reptile.

“Since you’re already sitting on the bed,” Choi Yook murmured, “you might as well soak the sheets right here.”

Mu-yeong parted his lips, but no words came. “……”

Choi Yook tilted his head, his tone flat. “Or do I need to strip you myself?”

Mu-yeong looked up at Choi Yook’s sneering face. The man seemed intent on establishing a hierarchy between them. Just as he had slapped him, choked him, and shoved fingers deep into his mouth, he was trying to cement the pecking order once and for all.

Because this was strictly a contest of power, Mu-yeong felt no shame in the situation. Flustered though he was, the desire not to back down burned far stronger. The sweet reward he had reaped this morning also fueled his competitive drive.

Besides, Choi Yook had no idea there had been a voice recorder planted in Choi Sijin’s car anyway. Mu-yeong curled his lips into a bright, innocent smile.

“Are you going to undress me?” Mu-yeong asked.

Even having heard the question, Choi Yook offered no reply.

Figures. Let’s see who ends up enjoying this more and who ends up feeling like absolute shit.

Dragging his heels against the floor, Mu-yeong kicked off his shoes. It was right as he ostentatiously took hold of the elastic waistband of his trousers.

Choi Yook planted a hand against Mu-yeong’s shoulder and shoved him flat onto the bed. Before Mu-yeong could even register the shift, his loose trousers were yanked off and tumbled onto the floor. His gaze swept slowly down Mu-yeong’s fully exposed legs.

By nature, human nudity was comical and ugly. Once the plausible outer shell was peeled away, everyone was similarly pitiful underneath. It was only natural, then, that any fascination sparked by Mu-yeong’s face ought to cool rapidly the moment his bare flesh was laid bare.

Yet Choi Yook unthinkingly gripped Mu-yeong’s thigh. The soft, supple flesh filled his palm completely—an illusion that only Choi Yook could truly grasp.

Lean and devoid of excess fat, the thigh was cleanly sculpted. Though his muscles did not bulge aggressively, the taut contours made it clear that Mu-yeong exercised regularly.

Below the knees, faint traces of repeated accidents showed through. Even against skin so exceptionally pale, the scarred patches stood out subtly, looking like spilled milk faintly glazed over the surface.

“For a pervert, your taste in underwear is surprisingly ordinary.”

Choi Yook hooked a finger into the black boxer briefs, snapping the waistband against Mu-yeong’s skin. With even the white ceiling light completely blocked by his broad back, Mu-yeong’s field of vision was filled with nothing but him. Immersed in Choi Yook’s shadow, Mu-yeong smiled sweetly.

“Of course,” Mu-yeong countered smoothly. “Aside from being unable to ejaculate without Sijin, I’m quite ordinary.”

When Choi Yook offered only silence in return, Mu-yeong provoked with a faint lilt, “You went out of your way to request it, Section Chief, so what should we do? I don’t think I can shoot unless I’m looking at Sijin’s photo. Do you mind if I check my phone while I do it?”

“Go ahead, try it,” Choi Yook permitted with cool amusement.

Choi Yook gave his permission readily, as if bestowing magnanimous tolerance.

“This is a good chance to see just how sincere you really are about Sijin,” Choi Yook added with a cold drawl.

Hearing the man’s permission, Mu-yeong was certain of one thing: neither of them in this room had the slightest intention of putting a stop to this.

It was like two cars hurtling straight toward each other. Whether driven by a refusal to lose by forfeiting first, or a desire to crush the other into the dirt, both of them thought of nothing but stomping on the accelerator.

Lying on his back, Mu-yeong reached out with one hand and picked up his phone. Looking at Choi Sijin wouldn’t arouse him in the slightest—if anything, it would make him want to gouge the kid’s eyes out. But if he just gripped it and stroked, he would manage to come somehow.

That held true on ordinary days as well. Just because he loved Hyung didn’t mean he ever actively thought to use him as fantasy material. More than half of what he had told Choi Yook was pure bluster.

Even setting aside the question of pain, Mu-yeong had never wanted to defile a person who resembled a pure white deer in such a manner. Thus, he had never once touched him even in his imagination. At most, he had merely pictured the crisp dress shirt or necktie Hyung might be wearing.

Right. A shirt.

Mu-yeong averted his eyes from Choi Sijin’s face splashed large across the phone screen. Instead, fixing his gaze squarely upon the white shirt Sijin was wearing, he pushed down his boxer briefs. And without hesitation, he took hold of his shaft and began to stroke.

“Haa……”

A low breath slipped from Mu-yeong’s lips. The sheer thought of deliberately fucking with Choi Yook proved an overwhelming stimulus in itself. As competitive defiance and sharp satisfaction bled together into heat, his soft length rapidly gathered strength, swelling stiff and hard.

Because he was using both hands, he couldn’t cover his mouth. Clenching his jaw, Mu-yeong swallowed back the moans threatening to escape. Each time his hand stroked up and down, a thrill of exhilarating triumph surged through him.

Did you think I couldn’t do it? If it came down to a contest of who was more deranged, there was no way he would lose. Mu-yeong cast a sidelong glance at Choi Yook.

Choi Yook showed neither embarrassment nor the slightest inclination to avert his gaze. Instead, a chilling luster finally flickered within his previously dry eyes. The gaze dissecting Mu-yeong inch by inch seemed intent on forcibly instilling shame into him.

Forcing his eyes away from Choi Yook, Mu-yeong looked back down at his phone. But he could no longer focus on the white shirt. In its place, the gleaming dark pupils of Choi Yook painted themselves over the screen—eyes locked unerringly on him and him alone.

An electric surge of psychological pleasure shot straight to the crown of his head. Unconsciously rolling his hips, Mu-yeong accelerated the strokes of his hand. Clear pre-cum beaded at the reddened slit of his tip. Accompanied by wet, friction-filled squelches, his groin flushed crimson and his parted thighs twitched.

“Ngh, ah……”

A faint moan slipped past his lips. Right then, a ruthless grip clamped down over the hand holding his cock. Startled by the abrupt contact, Mu-yeong’s hips jerked violently. The phone slipped from his fingers with a dull thud, tumbling across the sheets.