Reverse Murder v1c23

Seon parted Jihan’s thighs on the heated silk mat, dabbing at the slickness around his hole with a soft cloth. Jihan, still dazed from his latest orgasm, could only lie there, breath ragged.

“Does it hurt?”

“……”

“Or is it because I fucked you too hard?”

Seon had made a true observation. The swollen hole was so tender that even a breath of air might sting. When Jihan fumbled for the blanket to cover himself, Seon took it away with an amused expression.

“Don’t hide.”

“Please, just stop, you insane bastard.”

Even after being cursed at, he wore that smug smile. Jihan asked, exasperated, “Why do you keep smiling?”

“Because you’re funny, Hyung.”

“I’m funny?”

“You talk like a stern Confucian scholar, but down there, you’re as smooth and soft as a white mink. It’s hilarious.”

“Die, you son of a bitch.”

“Ah, this little stubble here might prickle if it grows out. Should shave it again before it does.”

Seon chuckled softly, then nipped at the plump perineum with a wet smack. His lips sealed around it, sucking obscenely before his hot tongue traced downward, delving into every swollen fold of the hole. Poison then cure—that was exactly what this was.

“Stop.”

Eventually, Seon spread his cheeks apart, exposing him completely. Humiliation burned so fiercely Jihan thought he might die. He trembled as he whispered, “Please… stop…”

“‘Please stop’?”

“Get off me.”

Seon ignored him, running his hands up from Jihan’s groin to knead his thighs. When Jihan bent his knees, his red, hardened kneecaps jutting out, Seon licked and bit them before slipping an arm under his armpit, pulling him into a suffocating embrace, and kissing him deeply. Even after coming, he clung on, refusing to let go.

“You’re all… so red.”

“Hah. What are you even—”

“Every inch of you is flushed. The tip of your nose, under your eyes, your earlobes, your shoulders, your fingertips, your knees, your hipbones, your heels, your toes…”

Seon murmured each spot before pressing a light kiss to them.

“I want to put every part of you in my mouth and chew you up.”

“Don’t talk nonsense…”

“When I first saw you, I thought the beauty mark under your right eye was lovely. Like a drop of rouge petal.”

He pressed his six-pack against Jihan’s lean abs, then finally kissed the spot beneath his eye. Jihan’s lashes fluttered shut, then opened again.

“…You had such bold thoughts at that age?”

“Was it bold?”

Seon’s eyelids crinkled softly as he gazed at him from inches away, his voice dripping with affection. “You saying that just makes it dirtier, Hyung.”

How can you be like this?

The words rose to his tongue.

Why do you smile at me like that?

Why have you been so clingy lately, like you want to devour me? Who do you think I am? Who do you think you are?

Something hot and thick clawed its way up his throat.

This was a filthy relationship. Contradictory, pathetic emotions. And yet—somehow, when their bodies touched like this, he lost all reason, swept up in feelings he’d never known before.

Jihan couldn’t bear it. He turned his head away, but Seon only licked the length of his exposed neck, forcing his chin up. His snake-like tongue slid along his throat, bit his jaw, then claimed his lips again.

“Mmph. Ah, just—stop pestering me and fuck me already.”

Jihan was stunned when Seon ground his already hard again cock against him. The more he pushed away, the more Seon clung, fingers intertwining, pinning him down. His erection was fully stiff, leaking precum.

“Stop. I know you’re young and full of energy, but there has to be a limit.”

“Age doesn’t matter for this, does it? Look—” Seon thrust his hips slightly, his slick glans pressing against Jihan’s already gaping hole. “You’re just as eager.”

The wet tip teased his hole before plunging deep in one stroke. Jihan bit Seon’s shoulder to stifle a scream as the other man’s lips brushed his ear, murmuring his name, arms locking around him in an inescapable embrace. Everything about Seon was too hot—his palms, his breath, the cock stretching him open.

***

Would things have been different if he’d been born a woman?

If he had been a woman, his father might have marked Seon as his future husband from the moment he entered the household as a boy.

They would have grown up together, affection blooming naturally. Even if youthful lust had led to a premarital pregnancy, a few well-placed bribes to the servants would’ve smoothed it over. They could’ve married without scandal, raised the child without shame.

Lost in thought, Jihan suddenly remembered the semen filling his mouth.

He spat it into his palm, then rinsed it away in the washbasin. But the sticky taste lingered. He worked his tongue, gathering the last remnants, and spat again.

His face was still coated in it. Seon had come inside him, on his navel, even in his mouth and eyes. Today, the volume seemed endless, the heat unrelenting. A vicious curse slipped out.

Seon dipped a cloth in warm water and wiped Jihan’s face, asking, “Shall we go winter falconry tomorrow?”

Jihan glared silently. That pretty face looked anything but threatening, no matter how hard he scowled. Seon just laughed brightly. “If you can’t walk, Hyung, I’ll carry you.”

“Shut up, you bastard.”

“You’ve been cooped up inside lately. I’m worried about you. Are you going to keep refusing?”

“No—I said I don’t need to go. What kind of idiot goes falconry in the dead of winter?”

“We’ll bring plenty of braziers. In return, I promise not to touch you all day.”

The way Seon locked eyes with him, pressing for an answer, almost made Jihan snort in spite of himself.

Lately, he’d been noticing Seon’s face in a new light—the sharp jawline and nose were undeniably masculine, but his cheeks and eyes still held a boyish softness. His height only made his arrogance more pronounced.

Jihan pushed away the urge to reach out and touch that face, shoving him half-heartedly instead. When he finally nodded in reluctant agreement, Seon bit his lip hungrily, their tongues tangling until Jihan’s face flushed again. Seon cradled his head against his arm, gazing down at him with a smirk.

“About that Maerimjigal story you told me the other day…”

He brushed Jihan’s hair back from his forehead.

“When I think of you, Hyung, it’s like that.”

“……”

“Just imagining you makes my mouth water and my energy surge. I get hard at the worst times—it’s painful.”

His hand slipped into Jihan’s pants, squeezing a handful of soft ass.

“I never knew matching bodies with you could feel this good.”

“You’re loud.”

Jihan twisted his shoulder away, snapping. Seon chuckled, kissing his forehead.

“…I’m sleepy.”

“Then sleep.”

“Aren’t you leaving soon?”

“After you fall asleep.”

A kiss landed on his ear.

“Then I’ll go. Sleep well, Hyung.”

***

The next morning, Jihan and Seon bundled up in thick magoja robes and wide-brimmed hats, riding out on horseback.

Maki, who had followed them, spread out a mat by the mountain stream, set up a windbreak, and lit a brazier. Seon broke the thin ice himself, submerging the tongbal traps in the cold water.

“Cold?”

Jihan shook his head, but Seon draped a fur blanket over his shoulders anyway. “You’re too fragile.”

Jihan scoffed. “I’m fragile?”

“You do pass out sometimes.”

“That’s because you—”

He cut himself off, scowling as his frost-nipped nose tingled.

Just then, the maesil honey wine reached the perfect warmth. Maki laid out a modest spread of braised jerky and seasoned greens he’d brought from home.

Meanwhile, Seon checked the traps, gutting the fresh catch. He built a fire, skewered the fish, and grilled them until the skin crisped. When he split one open, the white, fatty flesh steamed invitingly. He flaked off a piece and placed it on Jihan’s plate.

“You were raised too well—look at you, doing everything.”

The fussing made Jihan uncomfortable. He grumbled, poking the fish. Maki, grilling beside them, nodded in agreement. “It’s true. Young Master Seon can do anything.”

Seon let out a hollow laugh. “Who says I was raised well?”

“Come on. Did your father ever starve you or neglect you?”

“The Grand Secretary treated me fine. It was his son who was the problem.”

“You picking a fight?”

Maki glanced between them warily, but the two seemed used to this dynamic—their expressions didn’t change.

Author: Hyacinthus B

Hyacinthus