Moon Tae-young was rational. He had more patience than most, and on the surface, his way of thinking was perfectly sound. If he hadn’t gotten caught by the hook of an Outer God, he probably would’ve lived a straighter, more ordinary life than anyone else. The fact that his mission target wasn’t some deranged, sadistic bastard was certainly a relief, but still…
He’s a little too sane. It’s annoying.
Cha Eui-sung couldn’t help but be irritated by Tae-young’s firmly rooted moral compass. At this rate, he had to wonder if he’d regressed not to age 22, but 12.
Even so, every time he was provoked, he got riled up… Amusingly enough, no matter how hard Tae-young’s rationality tried to take the wheel, his body continued to burn steadily. The desire flickering in his gaze refused to die out. And after all, they’d already done everything there was to do. There was no reason to suddenly start acting coy now—Tae-young knew that better than anyone.
He’s just feeling guilty.
It was his conscience acting up. The age gap must’ve hit him now and then, making his heart skip a beat. Did he even realize that it just made him seem kinkier? Cha Eui-sung narrowed his eyes as he looked at Tae-young.
Then stop getting turned on so easily.
Eui-sung never bothered to point it out, but every time this happened, Tae-young got just a little more aroused. He didn’t even seem aware of it himself, but he became more sensitive, more feverish—positively drenched in heat. His arousal mechanism was bizarre. It was as if all his repressed and twisted instincts were being crushed under the weight of his civilized, socialized rationality.
And yet—
How ridiculous.
Cha Eui-sung didn’t dislike it.
It was strange. There was something inexplicably satisfying about watching this stiff, stone-faced man blush and crumble apart. Maybe he was subconsciously provoking Tae-young just to see him like that. Because every time Tae-young lost composure, Eui-sung found himself burning hotter too.
“Then… I guess it wasn’t that good for you?”
Even now, he was doing it again. Asking the question as if it didn’t bother him, but avoiding eye contact as he said it. Tae-young’s hand, resting against his back, suddenly tensed.
“That’s not it. It’s just…”
“It’s fine. Really. I mean, I didn’t know what I was doing either, to be honest.”
“That’s not what I meant. I swear.”
He tried to explain with an awkward look on his face, but still didn’t release his grip. Despite his downcast eyes, he was visibly aroused, breath short and uneven. Just as expected. When Eui-sung subtly pulled his arm off Tae-young’s shoulder, Tae-young’s faint flicker of urgency gave him away. Then, click—he caught the hand trying to slip away and slowly interlaced their fingers tightly.
Leaning in, Moon Tae-young kissed him. His heated body pressed in close, parting Eui-sung’s lips with a tender, melting softness. Cha Eui-sung shuddered at the fingertips and let out a rather loud moan. Despite Eui-sung pretending to be hurt, this man—who was clearly head over heels for him—wasn’t half bad at using his body.
“Mmh…”
Soft flesh between their fingers gently rubbed together. Maybe it was the shared kiss, but even that minor contact came across as an intense jolt.
As he relaxed his core, his body slowly lowered onto its back. Each gasp made his fingers twitch, and the way Tae-young’s cock kept swelling against his thigh was almost alarming. By the time their joined hands pressed into the floor, Cha Eui-sung had ended up beneath him.
If it wasn’t that I was ‘just okay,’ then you better be pissed off enough to show it.”
And Tae-young seemed to get the message loud and clear—his face looked far less conflicted now. That sulky little warning had sparked something in him, and now Tae-young was blazing.
“Gonna tear it again? That’s your shirt, you know.”
Eui-sung casually threw out the remark. Tae-young quirked a brow in response. He curled up one corner of his lips and crossed his arms to pull his shirt over his head.
“I don’t mind. But I must really look like the kind of guy who goes around ripping shirts.”
“You are, though.”
With a giggle and a sly smile, Eui-sung let go of his hand and brushed his cheek a few times. He glanced down at his rumpled shirt, bunched up high enough to bare his stomach, and smirked as he began undressing.
“Ah—!”
He hadn’t even finished pulling his top over his head when Tae-young suddenly lunged and bit at his neck. The shock buzzed all the way up to his scalp, sending his body into a violent shiver. The blindside contact was more stimulating than expected.
Seemingly pleased by the reaction, those neat teeth bit down again and again on his neck and chest. Cha Eui-sung moaned deeply and struggled to steady his now-ragged breath.
“Huff, haa… Or maybe… you actually like this better?”
When he teasingly provoked him and finally pulled his shirt off, the first thing Cha Eui-sung saw was Moon Tae-young’s face, lit up with a breathless smile. Softly curved eyes, a slight lift at the corners of his mouth, and a jaw drawn tight with tension. In his black pupils shimmered a heavy emotion—was it affection, or was it raw desire? Whatever thoughts were running through Tae-young’s mind, one thing was clear: he was properly turned on.
Relaxing that rigid jaw, Moon Tae-young leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Eui-sung’s lips. At the same time, his hands gripped Eui-sung’s waist tightly before sliding upward to flick a stiffened nipple. His lukewarm fingertips spiraled around the areola before giving it a playful pinch. Eui-sung’s eyes flew open as he twisted his body from the sudden jolt.
“Ahh…”
The sensation was so sharp, it sent a chill from his waist to his shoulders. It wasn’t even the first time, and yet his heart pounded like he was startled.
Or maybe because it wasn’t the first time—maybe that’s what made it worse. Now that his brain knew what to expect, it responded with alarming ease, feeding into the building heat.
As he exhaled in short, shallow breaths, Tae-young leaned in to kiss him again. The wet, slick sounds inside their mouths echoed up to his head, scattering all rational thought. Everything else faded. All he could crave now was the pleasure approaching and the warmth pressing against him.
“Huff…”
Moon Tae-young exhaled hotly and moved his arm. His warm hand slipped under the waistband, brushing gently against the soft skin inside.
Eui-sung’s toes curled as a tremble ran through him, and then his loose pants were pulled down in one smooth motion. All that careful buildup from before seemed irrelevant now—Tae-young’s hand moved with no hesitation.
“…You didn’t wear any?”
“Figured I’d end up taking them off anyway.”
“Ha. Haha…”
The reason Eui-sung hadn’t worn underwear was because it made him feel weird. He didn’t want his mind to go to strange places, but it was already starting to overheat.
His half-erect cock gave a small twitch and continued to swell. When the tip began to glisten with slick fluid, Tae-young’s pupils dilated ever so slightly.
His mouth still held a faint smile, but the playfulness had vanished. The dizzying heat seemed to have spread all the way to his brain, and a dangerous energy began seeping out of his finely sculpted silhouette.
As always, the moment the back of Eui-sung’s neck tingled with that ominous warning, Tae-young grazed his hand down and took hold of him. A moment later, thud—something heavy slapped against his stomach. He didn’t have to look to know what it was.
As the hot, hard cock pressed against him, Tae-young’s large hand grabbed them both—his and Eui-sung’s—and began rubbing them together.
“Hhk…!”
A burst of pleasure, sharp like lightning, shot through him. Eui-sung bucked, knees drawing up instinctively.
When he held his breath, perhaps thinking Eui-sung was startled, Tae-young placed light kisses on his lips and murmured gently:
“It’s okay.”
Of course it is. It’s not like he’s stabbing him with a weapon or anything. Well… it is kind of a weapon. And yeah, he is about to get stabbed with it, in a way…
Without answering, Eui-sung gave a slight nod—and then a strong jolt surged through his now fully hardened cock.
“Ugh, haa! Hng!”
Moans erupted from him, helpless and unrestrained. Even his own voice didn’t sound like his anymore. His breathing turned nasal and ragged, but there was no room left for pride. His mind had gone completely blank.
“Kgh, hah…”
Tae-young let out a guttural groan as he sped up. It was too much—Eui-sung had to squeeze his eyes shut and gritted his teeth against the stimulation.
Maybe Tae-young realized it was getting overwhelming, because he began to slow down. Frustrated, Eui-sung slammed a hand down on that irritatingly careful hand and muttered under his breath:
“I like it…”
He liked it. The heavy breathing, the warmth, the overwhelming pleasure he could barely contain… And most of all, the heat in Tae-young’s face each time their eyes met through the mist of tears.
Every time he saw those eyes—focused solely on him—something inside twisted violently. Like something swelling up just behind his breastbone, so full it was hard to breathe.
It wasn’t just “feeling good.” Something round, hot, and unfamiliar was ballooning inside him like an overfilled balloon.
Whatever this feeling was, it was unbearable. If he didn’t throw his arms around this demon king of a man and rub his face against him, he was going to explode.
Cha Eui-sung yanked Moon Tae-young close and buried his face against him. Even as he did, their lower halves slid wetly against each other, mixing a lewd scent with the heat of Tae-young’s body.
Whenever he was with this man, he felt like he was changing—becoming someone unrecognizable. Cha Eui-sung finally turned his head away with a faint, broken moan as his hips gave a twitch.
With a quiet splash, semen poured out, dribbling over Tae-young’s hand.
While they waited for the overflowing emotions to settle, Tae-young kept rubbing his face against Eui-sung’s neck and cheeks. For a moment, his eyes looked red, as if he couldn’t contain the heat. He continued kissing him over and over, gazing down at Eui-sung’s bare body with a dangerously feverish look.
Tae-young ran his hand through the slippery mess. Spreading it over Eui-sung’s tightly clenched entrance, he pressed his fingers in.
A thick, long finger slowly sank in without resistance. The motion felt so natural, so expected, that Eui-sung didn’t even have time to feel awkward—he just sucked in a sharp breath.
“Haa… Tell me if it hurts.”
“You’re gonna… ngh, hesitate again.”
“Because I might really not be able to stop.”
“Then don’t stop.”
Even as his red lips panted, they curved into a long, slow arc. Tae-young stared at that expression like he was savoring it, then pressed in deeper with his fingers.
As those fingers began exploring inside, Eui-sung’s toes curled involuntarily.
Despite how recently they’d been together, his insides were so tight it was hard to believe. His walls clung hungrily to the intruding fingers, slick and snug.
