A suffocating silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of their breathing.
Seon-woo’s fingers, clutching Seung-hyeon’s shoulder, instinctively tightened. It wasn’t an entirely unintentional gesture—he had intended to push him away—but Seung-hyeon didn’t budge, as if he were nailed in place.
Seung-hyeon’s fingers, damp and slick with moisture, traced slowly over Seon-woo’s perineum as if exploring.
Seon-woo opened his mouth to say “This isn’t right,” but no words came out.
In that brief silence, Seung-hyeon’s index finger was already pressing into the tight entrance.
It would be a lie to say this caught him completely off guard. The last time the system shut down, Seung-hyeon had interrupted his blowjob by slipping his hand between Seon-woo’s ass cheeks. It had been too intentional to dismiss as an accident. So, in truth, he had at least considered the possibility of something like this happening.
But imagining it and actually experiencing it were two entirely different things.
While Seon-woo sat frozen in confusion, unable to say a word, Seung-hyeon’s finger steadily invaded him, widening the entrance bit by bit. The ring of muscle, clenched tight with tension, refused to accept the foreign intrusion.
Seon-woo kept instinctively trying to pull away, which made a flicker of uncertainty cross Seung-hyeon’s face. He murmured gently, as if trying to soothe him.
“Please don’t move. It’s my first time too… If you squirm, I might hurt you.”
Strangely, that one sentence caused the taut string of anxiety in Seon-woo’s head to snap. The unease he usually felt whenever Seung-hyeon acted too confident or skilled evaporated in an instant.
Seung-hyeon briefly blinked in surprise when Seon-woo stopped trying to escape and settled in place, but he didn’t let the opportunity pass.
Despite claiming it was his first time, his fingers were surprisingly adept as they probed deeper. Seung-hyeon moved with care and precision, but not too slowly, as he worked Seon-woo open.
Soon, a second finger joined the first, spreading him further.
Then, in a sudden motion, Seung-hyeon’s long index and middle fingers curved inward, scraping along the inner wall—and Seon-woo jerked his hips reflexively.
An odd ticklish sensation had surged up from deep inside his lower abdomen.
Unlike before, Seung-hyeon didn’t try to pin Seon-woo’s hips in place. He simply glanced up at his face, as if he had already realized this wasn’t resistance born from rejection.
But after that, no matter how Seung-hyeon moved his fingers, that same sensation didn’t come back.
In fact, it felt like he was deliberately avoiding that exact spot.
The thought that Seung-hyeon might be doing it on purpose crept in.
But Seon-woo couldn’t exactly put that into words.
It was humiliating enough to admit he wanted to feel that again—let alone to ask him to touch that spot specifically. Worse yet, adjusting his hips himself to guide Seung-hyeon’s fingers back there would be even more degrading.
Having someone’s fingers inside him like this was already enough to strip him of his pride. There was no need to pile on more shame.
After some time spent digging around inside, Seung-hyeon sat up and reached into his outer coat pocket.
Seon-woo, slightly curious, watched him to see what he was doing.
From the pocket, Seung-hyeon pulled out a black leather wallet.
He opened it and retrieved a single condom.
Seon-woo’s expression shifted instantly—from mild curiosity to stunned disbelief.
Should I call that being overly prepared or what…
There’s a saying that keeping a condom in your wallet brings money—but honestly, Seung-hyeon didn’t seem like someone who needed that kind of superstition.
He wasn’t a direct heir, sure, but he was still the grandson of a chaebol group’s chairman. It’s not like he needed more money flowing in.
First time, my ass.
Even as Seon-woo stared at him with skeptical eyes, Seung-hyeon calmly inspected the condom, checking for any issues.
Apparently satisfied, he began tearing the wrapper open—but then suddenly looked up, locking eyes with Seon-woo.
With a sly smile, he asked,
“Wanna put it on for me?”
Seon-woo’s face twisted in instinctive disgust before he could stop himself.
Seung-hyeon gave a short laugh, as if it were just a joke, then turned his gaze away and finished tearing the wrapper.
Seon-woo could only stare blankly at his hands.
His brain could predict what would happen next, but emotionally, it was hard to accept it as real.
So even when Seung-hyeon deftly undid his belt and slid down his black drawers to roll the condom onto his cock, Seon-woo sat there in a daze.
It wasn’t until Seung-hyeon pinched the tip and moved to settle between Seon-woo’s legs that reality came crashing back in.
Aligning himself with the entrance he’d just opened, Seung-hyeon murmured in a calm, collected tone,
“Relax.”
Startled, Seon-woo instinctively looked down between his legs.
He was trying to size up the thing now pressing against his entrance—and the sight made his head fall back in dismay.
To be completely honest, when he had first entered the Gwanggong, he’d thought, “Wow…”—but the emotion behind that “wow” was entirely different from now.
Back then, it had been pure awe. Now? Now he was staring down the very real fact that he had to take in Gwak Seung-hyeon’s cock.
Seon-woo mumbled instinctively.
“It—it’s not going to fit.”
Seung-hyeon let out a short laugh like he’d just heard a ridiculous joke. His tone had lost some of its usual cool, but his voice remained composed.
“It always fits in the end.”
The casual certainty in his voice made Seon-woo bristle.
“You said it was your first time—how the hell would you know that?”
“Maybe I just do know.”
Seung-hyeon replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
And with that, it was clear he wouldn’t wait any longer.
He leaned in, whispering close to Seon-woo’s ear in a voice that was both gentle and matter-of-fact.
“Director, relax.”
Seon-woo couldn’t help but think that Seung-hyeon’s gaze, locked onto his, was too intense.
He could feel it—Seung-hyeon’s cock, slowly pressing in, bit by bit.
He’d thought it was impossible. No way. But it turned out Seung-hyeon hadn’t been entirely wrong.
Thanks to the condom’s slippery lube, it slid in more easily than he’d expected.
The pressure was tight, but the pain wasn’t unbearable.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, yet it felt like ages had passed.
Looking down at Seon-woo’s shallow, trembling breaths, Seung-hyeon murmured in a soothing voice,
“It’s all the way in.”
For a brief second, Seon-woo felt hopeful. Really? But then he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Don’t lie… please.”
Compared to what he’d gauged with his eyes, it didn’t feel like it had gone in all that deep. Seung-hyeon let out an oddly cheerful laugh that didn’t match the situation.
“Busted.”
Then, before Seon-woo had time to tense up again, he grabbed his hips and drove forward in one strong thrust.
Seung-hyeon slammed in to the hilt in a single motion, then leaned down over him without loosening his grip.
The shock hit Seon-woo like a lightning bolt, and he reflexively tried to jerk away, trying to scramble upward. But he couldn’t move—both of Seung-hyeon’s hands were locked onto him.
His whole body was tingling.
He’d even forgotten to breathe until Seung-hyeon whispered at his ear, “Breathe.”
It took a long while to calm down.
When Seon-woo’s breathing finally began to settle, Seung-hyeon, still monitoring his condition, pressed his bare body flush against his.
Skin to skin, heartbeats pounding, Seung-hyeon’s ragged breathing brushed right past his ear.
He’d been acting all composed and unaffected until now, but the sound of his shaky breath felt oddly satisfying.
After a short moment of hesitation, Seon-woo slowly reached up and placed a hand on the back of Seung-hyeon’s head.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of gesture one would make while being pinned under someone’s cock, but he simply followed the pull in his chest.
His fingers sank into soft, chocolate-brown hair—it felt unexpectedly nice.
As he continued to gently stroke Seung-hyeon’s head for quite a while, a quiet voice whispered back to him.
“…Director.”
“Yes.”
“Director.”
“Yes.”
“…Director.”
“How many times are you going to say it?”
Unable to keep listening to that increasingly disordered murmur, Seon-woo snapped a little.
Normally, this was when Seung-hyeon would fire back with a teasing smile, but this time he didn’t laugh, didn’t say a word—just kept breathing slowly.
Softening a little, Seon-woo added with a gentler tone,
“Are you planning to just stay like this forever?”
Right after those words left his mouth, he could feel Seung-hyeon’s cock swell even more inside him.
Blinking in confusion, Seon-woo quickly clicked his tongue.
This perverted bastard…
He thought it without meaning to—and then froze, horrified at himself.
He looked up at Seung-hyeon, startled.
The expression on Seung-hyeon’s face was nothing like the one he usually wore. He looked… uncharacteristically unguarded.
When their eyes met, Seung-hyeon gave a smile, as if it had been drawn onto his face.
But it was a strained, savage smile—so forced that it was obvious at a glance.
Then he began to move, clearly no longer willing to wait.
His cock, even thicker than before, and the veins bulging across the back of his hand made it obvious he was anything but calm.
And yet, his pace was strangely slow.
Whether it was because Seon-woo had already been stretched for a while or because he’d gotten used to it, it didn’t hurt that much anymore.
But still, the sensation of being pushed in and pulled out with each motion felt deeply unpleasant.
Every time he moved, it felt like Seung-hyeon’s cock might end up poking out through his throat—an unsettling, almost surreal sensation.
There was no way he could say that out loud.
Judging by everything so far, Seung-hyeon was kinkier than expected—if he said something like that, it might just turn him on even more.
Fine. If you’re enjoying it, then whatever…
Just as Seon-woo resigned himself with a sigh of defeat, Seung-hyeon seemed to catch on to his thoughts, casting a sharp glance down at him.
Then, with a deliberate hand, he wrapped his fingers around Seon-woo’s cock and slowly began to stroke along the shaft.
The erection, which had been flagging slightly, finally began to stir again under the stimulation… but it wasn’t a welcome development.
For Seon-woo, not feeling anything at all would’ve been better.
He opened his mouth to say “You don’t need to do that,”—but the only thing that came out was a choked moan.
“Hhngh!”
A sharp jolt of pleasure surged through him when Seung-hyeon’s cock hit the same spot his finger had grazed earlier.
Was that… the same place? Maybe he was imagining it—but there was no time to dwell on that.
The moment Seung-hyeon saw Seon-woo’s reaction, he slammed upward again—this time with more force, hitting that exact spot dead-on.
“Ah—hh…!”
Seon-woo let the moan slip out before he even realized it, his expression dazed as he stared up at Seung-hyeon.
That’s when Seung-hyeon finally cracked a short smile.
“I was thinking it earlier too, but… you’re deep.”
Seon-woo looked up at him, eyes filled with bewilderment.
Seung-hyeon leaned in close, gaze lingering on the corners of Seon-woo’s eyes, now slightly damp from the intensity.
He stroked gently along Seon-woo’s waist and whispered,
“Hyung… if you don’t relax, you’ll get hurt.”
And this time—for real—he didn’t hold back anymore.
Seung-hyeon thrust his hips upward with full force.
Siiiiii