44
Yes, I also remember this moment vividly. The darkened evening, the deserted alleyway, the cold seeping into my bones, my hands cracked like a drought-stricken rice paddy. Not a single detail was blurred—even the stench of the back alley was sharp in my memory.
“Did you… really take this photo?”
“Why would I lie to you?”
I remember the situation, but not the face of the man I met back then. Did that man have Kwon Yikang’s face now?
“I told him I took his photo, and he called me a pervert. Then he said it didn’t matter if I was a pervert—if I took his picture, I had to pay him. He was a bold little thing.”
Kwon Yikang chuckled softly, as if recalling the memory.
“Kids like that are a dime a dozen in back alleys. Kids with nothing—no food, no education, nothing but bitterness left in them. Nothing special, right?”
I was one of those countless street urchins. Starving—not just for food, but for attention, for touch, for affection. Dozens of kids like me filled that alley.
“Maybe. But he left an impression. I had just returned to the country, wandering around under the pretense of taking photos. I was aimlessly walking when I stumbled into a back alley, and there he was, crouched down. He was shivering from the cold, but his eyes… they burned with the will to survive. The determination to live, no matter what. Seeing that kid fight to survive made me reflect—what the hell was I doing with my life?”
It was an unusually cold winter. My tattered thermal wear and T-shirts, layered as they were, did nothing against the biting wind. The money I had begged for that day was scarce, and I knew I’d be beaten if I went back to the shelter, so I sat in the cold alley, delaying the inevitable.
Then a man approached. His expensive coat didn’t belong in that back alley, and his polished shoes gleamed under the dim light.
“Hey, kid. I took your photo—mind if I keep it?”
“You a pervert? Taking kids’ pictures to jerk off to?”
“Not my type, kid. I’m a photographer. Maybe I’ll exhibit your photo someday.”
“Whatever. Pervert or not, you took my face—pay up.”
I only half-understood what he was saying. Back then, I was reckless, and if a man who looked like he had money was willing to give me some, that was all that mattered.
The man, surprisingly, pulled out his wallet without argument. “How much do you want?” he asked lightly. I spread my fingers wide—five. He handed me fifty thousand won.
With this, I won’t get beaten. Maybe I can even keep five thousand for myself.
I bolted from the spot and left the alley. Restaurants wouldn’t let beggars like me in, so I bought a bowl of kalguksu (knife-cut noodle soup) from a street stall.
The warmth of that kalguksu still lingers in my stomach. As I stood there, forcing strength into my legs, Kwon Yikang wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I remember that kid’s desperate eyes. Eyes full of rage at the world’s unfairness. I went back once to look for him, but he was gone.”
After that, I was moved to another district and started learning how to pickpocket instead of begging. The timing matches—his words didn’t feel like a lie.
“How long are you going to stare at that photo? I’m glad you like my work, but you should look at the rest too. You’ve been standing at the entrance this whole time.”
Kwon Yikang pulled me by the shoulder, guiding me into the living room. I hadn’t expected to encounter the past Min Jaehee here, and I stumbled after him in a daze before collapsing onto the sofa.
“You suddenly look pale. Are you sick?”
“No… maybe my blood sugar’s low. I’m just hungry.”
“If you’re hungry, say you’re hungry. What’s ‘I’m just hungry’ supposed to mean? Wait here. I’ll make you something.”
Kwon Yikang left me and headed to the kitchen. I curled up, clutching my head.
Min Jaehee had vanished from the world, and no one remembered me. The last person who had been with me, Cha Sukyung, had lost his soul and ceased to exist. I had dropped dead overnight, and no one mourned me. No one remembered. That’s what I thought, and it made me sad.
But… in a place I didn’t know, during a time I didn’t know, a person I didn’t know had been thinking of me.
How could I explain the fact that the only person who remembered Min Jaehee had appeared before me—not by coincidence, but by fate? Was it destiny that we had to meet?
Maybe it wasn’t something grand enough for such words. Maybe it was just a slightly unusual memory in Kwon Yikang’s life. Still, the fact that I occupied even the smallest space in his memories made me happy. The fact that someone remembered I had existed in this world made my heart tremble.
“Are you that hungry?”
I shuffled into the kitchen, and Kwon Yikang smiled as he chopped vegetables. Without warning, I pressed my lips to his. He hesitated but didn’t push me away. He set the knife in the sink, washed his hands, and then pulled me into an embrace.
“What’s this?”
“Let’s do it. Right now.”
I needed to hold him, to kiss him, to meet his gaze, to feel his hands and his warmth against me.
I frantically undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling at the fabric underneath. Pressing my body against his bare chest, I sucked and bit at his lips.
Faster. Hold me. Bury yourself inside me. Let me feel you.
I unzipped his pants and stroked his cock. Even the slightest touch made it stiffen, rising against his stomach. I hastily kicked off my pants and underwear, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist.
“Why so urgent?”
He grabbed my hand, which was guiding his cock toward my hole, but he didn’t push inside. The teasing friction made me impatient.
“Shut up and put it in.”
I pushed him against the sink and tried to force him inside, but he kept slipping, and my frustration grew.
“Fuck—” I muttered, cursing under my breath.
He pulled me close, kissing my cheek.
“You act like a beast in heat sometimes. You know what you’re doing, right?”
“You’re the one with a hard-on, acting all composed.”
“Such crude language.”
“This is how I am. You got a problem with my dirty mouth, or are you just not gonna fuck me with that pretty cock of yours?”
My words turned rough with impatience. He soothed me by licking my cheek, then lifted me effortlessly. In a few strides, he set me down on the kitchen table, spreading my thin legs wide and pulling me close until my groin pressed against his chin.
He lowered his head, pressing his lips to my crotch. His warm lips gently massaged and sucked at my skin. Slowly, intensely. He gathered his lips around the base of my cock, teasing the wet tip with his tongue. His chin pressed against my perineum, stimulating me as he licked my hardening length.
“Faster…”
He didn’t stop, even as I urged him on. He released my cock, slick with saliva, and kissed along my perineum. The sharp tip of his tongue traced my skin before reaching the tight pucker of my hole. He spread my cheeks with his hands, covering the wrinkled hole with his wet lips.
He sucked and licked at the closed hole. The hand that had been holding me relaxed, slowly rubbing my stomach. The warmth spreading from my abdomen loosened my body, and he pried open the quivering hole with his tongue.
“Ah, nngh…”
He gripped my swaying cock, stroking it gently while pressing his nose against my hole, his lips sealed tightly around it. The tongue inside me moved like a fish, swimming and probing, sending strange sensations through me.
“Stop, don’t…”
I covered my face with my hands, forcing out the words through my tight throat. His tongue continued to explore, licking, prodding, and pressing against my inner walls.
I could only lie there weakly, biting my lip to stifle my moans. My hot breath against my palm made it hard to keep my eyes open.
“Show me your face.”
He pulled my hand away from my face and whispered. Lowering my legs, he leaned over me, pressing a kiss to the tip of my chin before pushing his cock inside. My spread legs wrapped around his waist, and the deep thrust made my body jerk.
“Ah, ahh…”
His thick cock buried itself deep inside me, pressing against my inner walls. His face was above mine, his heated gaze burning into me.
What did I look like in Kwon Yikang’s eyes? Did he see even a trace of that boy from the photo? Or was I just small, fragile Cha Sukyung?
“I like it when you look at me.”
No matter whose face he saw, I loved the way he looked at me. His gaze, his touch, his warmth—it all made me feel real.
He bit and licked at my trembling lips, and the movement below grew more urgent, rocking into me.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
