“Don’t speak to me like that.”
Seon struggled to rein in the red-hot energy radiating from Jihan, gently tugging his arm instead.
“Stop getting so angry and tell me exactly what’s upset you.”
“You insane bastard. Upset? Me?”
Jihan wrenched his arm free, stumbling back.
“Fine. I’m upset. Maybe I drugged you. Maybe you lost your mind and lusted after me. Maybe I let myself believe your sudden kindness, your pretend affection—maybe I fooled myself into thinking your gifts meant something, not realizing they were just crumbs from the real feast you’re preparing for her! That I was just—”
“Hyung, you’re too worked up right now.”
Seon reached for him again, trying to cup his face. Jihan slapped his hand away with a thunderous shout.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
“……”
“When the hell are you leaving this house? When will you finally disappear from my sight? You’re not planning to stay after the wedding, are you? Move into your in-laws’ or get your own place in the capital—I don’t care. Just stay the fuck away from me.”
“What are you—”
Seon steadied his breath.
Jihan found even that infuriating. Here he was, trembling with rage, while Seon remained maddeningly composed, observing him like some detached spectator.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Why are you suddenly telling me to leave? I thought we’d been getting closer…”
Seon’s hand slid up his arm, fingers brushing the tender skin on the inside of his wrist. Jihan’s eyes burned as he hissed, “So what? You’ll marry her, and then what? Sneak between the main house and the pavilion every night, humiliating us both?”
Seon let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Humiliating? You’re twisting my words, Hyung. The truth is, you like my body.”
“What—?”
“You always say you hate it, but your legs clamp around my waist every time I’m inside you. Like this—”
Jihan’s face drained of color as Seon guided his arms around his own waist, pressing their bodies together. When Jihan tried to pull away, Seon dropped to one knee before him.
“Should we talk here instead? I don’t know what’s bothering you, but this place has always been honest.”
“W-What are you—? Let go, don’t—!”
“I’ll make you feel good.”
“No—don’t touch me… don’t—”
Maybe he was right. Maybe his body did crave it.
The moment Seon’s hands touched him, his strength seemed to drain away.
Jihan doubled over, shaking violently as Seon undid his waistband, stroking his trembling thighs. His legs nearly gave out. With a tilt of his head, Seon pushed aside the undergarments and pressed his lips to the soft, hidden flesh of his groin. He kissed the sensitive skin, then took the flaccid cock between his lips, teasing it gently.
Shocked, Jihan’s thighs clenched around Seon’s head. A low chuckle vibrated against his skin, and the loose strands of Seon’s topknot tickled his inner thighs, driving him mad.
“Ah—! Stop—what are you—doing—!”
His still-soft cock was taken into Seon’s mouth in one swallow. Seon tilted his head, gazing up at Jihan as he sucked, stretching the shaft like taffy. Soon, the now-firm glans brushed against the warm ridge of Seon’s throat. Jihan nearly wept.
“Hng—ah… huh!”
When his thighs kept clamping around Seon’s head, Seon pressed them down in irritation. His fully erect cock, flushed an embarrassing shade of red, was greedily sucked into that wet heat.
“No—nng, I hate this…!”
His own voice—weak, trembling, dissolving—made him want to gag. But already, his knees were buckling, his limbs shaking violently. Seon’s hand slipped beneath his undergarments, kneading his ass before spreading his cheeks and teasing the wrinkled hole with his middle finger.
“Ah—n-no—! I—I’m going to—ah, cum—hng!”
“Then cum.”
Seon mumbled around his cock, the words distorted.
Jihan forced his blurring vision to focus on Seon’s face—his nape and ears flushed a deeper crimson than ever, his breath ragged with excitement. The faint resistance of his hole gave way as a finger slid in smoothly, and his back arched at the intrusion. Seon matched the movement, bobbing his head up and down the shaft while sucking fiercely at the glans. He couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Agh—!”
With a choked cry, Jihan’s hips jerked as he spilled into Seon’s mouth. A torrent of cum flooded out, drenching Seon’s lips. The relentless suction made it feel like his cock might rip right off. His legs gave out completely—if Seon hadn’t been supporting his thighs, he would’ve collapsed.
“Did it feel good?”
Seon looked up at him, still cradling his thighs, and whispered. Jihan’s face burned with humiliation.
Seon stripped off Jihan’s loose pants entirely, then lifted him onto the seogwe chest in the corner of the room. Then—spit—he gathered the cum from his mouth and smeared it onto his own erection.
“Ah—I said no… We had a deal…”
His voice, drained of venom, trembled pathetically. Seon pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“You’re not satisfied yet. Let me satisfy you. Just stay still like always.”
He murmured between kisses, his voice sickeningly sweet.
“Hyung, don’t think about anything. Just feel what I do to you. That’s all you need to do.”
Before Jihan could protest, Seon pinned him against the wall, his body immovable. He wedged himself between Jihan’s thighs, preventing him from slipping off the chest. The moment his legs spread, Seon’s rock-hard cock filled him completely, stretching him open.
“Hah—you bastard—I’ll kill—ah, hng!”
Beyond the paper-latticed door, servants bustled in the garden preparing for evening, the sun sinking low in the sky.
***
When Jihan opened his eyes again, it was deep into the night. The accessories that had been scattered across the floor were now neatly arranged on the table.
Wincing at the dull ache in his hips, he lifted the blanket. He’d been dressed in a fresh, thin hanbok. When he parted his lips to curse, the scab on his lower lip split again, beading with blood—he’d bitten it raw from Seon’s ruthless thrusting. A bitter laugh escaped him.
What had he expected?
Nothing. He’d expected nothing.
He’d simply been drunk on the fleeting sweetness of Seon’s devotion, blind to what he should’ve seen all along.
After his mother’s death, his father’s coldness had made life taste like ash. The young nobles he associated with held no interest for him. He’d drowned himself in gambling and sightseeing, but the hollow ache inside him had only grown, no matter how hard he tried to fill it.
And then there was Seon. Only Seon had managed to fill that void, if only temporarily. He didn’t understand why it had to be him—but it was the truth.
With Seon, he felt everything at once: rage, superiority, ridicule, pity, anxiety, desperation, sorrow. He did things he never would’ve imagined, his body floating, his veins thrumming with life, his mind eerily at peace. The emptiness that had consumed him finally vanished, replaced by something warm and whole.
Jihan didn’t know what to call this tangled mess of emotions. All he could think of was the blind shaman’s warning—touch a live wire, and the axe will fall before you can flinch.
…He wanted to take it all back.
Slowly, he got up and stumbled toward the mother-of-pearl chest. He opened the bottom drawer and reached deep inside, pulling out a small money box. Beneath the strings of coins, a cloth bundle held an old silver dagger and a hopaek identity tag.
“……”
There was someone he’d wanted to kill. That was why he’d sought out a method.
But now he realized—he hadn’t truly wanted death. Not really.
The name on the hopaek was one Jihan knew well: Jeong Ga’s Haegang, his father’s old friend, executed for treason years ago. The crime had been so severe that his entire family—three generations—had been wiped out. Yet rumors said his only son had vanished without confirmation of his death.
What if that son had survived? What if he’d fled the royal guards, bought a false genealogy, and was living under an assumed identity? And what if his father, Grand Secretary Choi, had entrusted his old friend’s dagger and hopaek to the one person he trusted most?
All the pieces fit.
This had to be the truth. If he reported this to the constabulary now, an investigation would begin. And Seon’s life would hang by a thread—like a spark before the wind.
Jihan stared at the hopaek, its surface worn smooth by time.
Perhaps Seon had never meant to mock or ignore him. Perhaps he’d simply cared for Jihan in the only way he knew how—unaware that his very existence was the ultimate insult.
Now, Jihan was nothing to him. Less than nothing. Someone who could be used and discarded without a second thought.
So why couldn’t he bring himself to cast Seon out?
“……”
He was so confused.
In the end, Jihan returned the hopaek and dagger to the drawer and shut it with a click.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
