Sugar Boy v3c6

To the man who would never smile at him again after today, he said:

“I did it because I wanted to live.”

With lips that wouldn’t move as he wanted, with eyes that wouldn’t open properly, he said these words. To the man who had told him to live and not die, he conveyed that this was why, this was why he had done such things.

Having finished his excuses—which would never be accepted no matter how many times he repeated them, with his obscenely rocking dirty body and what was surely a hideous face—Geun-yeong now moved his hands, which were not free due to being tightly bound with packing tape. He touched the shield that covered and secured the needle inserted into his abdomen. He found the part that was already slightly lifted due to sweat and pushed it little by little.

* * *

Kyung Jiho continued to feel bad. His body was uncomfortable with tension subtly building and strength involuntarily entering his muscles.

It was strange. He hadn’t been this tense even in much more dangerous situations. Even when waiting for his turn to get a tattoo on his upper body, he hadn’t felt like this. In fact, at that time, since he was arguing with the police chief over public relations police issues, there was an underlying rebellious psychology, so amidst the tension, there was also something like pleasure. He remembered calculating whether he would get worker’s compensation if he got fired over this.

Rather than that time, it was more like when a nurse was aiming for a vein with the tip of a needle. No, it was slightly more uncomfortable than that. To what extent? His stomach felt completely uncomfortable and stuffy.

Maybe the hamburger he ate earlier was sitting heavily.

Since he started working as a detective, he had been eating meals as if roasting beans in lightning—always rushed. Thanks to his senior, who is now a team leader, who said they should never skip meals since they were working to make a living, he had countless days where he had to stuff food in his mouth in all sorts of environments—standing, crouching, on the street, in hiding—but his digestive function seemed fine since he had never suffered from indigestion or upset stomach until now. But now he did. His stomach felt tight.

Was he getting old?

It seemed so. This must be what aging feels like.

Trying to relax, Kyung Jiho took a deep breath. By his standards, getting hit a few times by the frail old man wouldn’t cause serious injury to that guy who, while equally frail, wasn’t particularly sickly. He couldn’t understand why he felt so tense, anxious, and uncomfortable.

It wasn’t the kind of anxiety felt when anticipating an operation failure. He had a sense for situations that were flowing perfectly. Compared to his usual work, this was too easy and simple. That’s why it wasn’t something that should have fallen to him, and despite needing to hand it over to the district station, he had to insist on doing it himself and secure the investigative authority, which was the most difficult part. Other than that, nothing could go wrong.

Nevertheless, he was anxious.

He glared at the guy who was snoring and making choking sounds, but knowing he wasn’t the one to be angry at, he withdrew his sharp gaze.

* * *

The man, who had been catching his breath for a while as he lay collapsed on top after ejaculating body fluid inside, raised himself up.

And he saw the clear result of what his hands had done. The left side of the face was swollen beyond recognition. Blood was flowing from the torn lips and around the eyes.

As the appearance was quite unsatisfactory, Ji Seokhun had to frown.

There was some regret. Not regret for hitting the boy. The boy had done wrong, and this level of corporal punishment was justified. But now he regretted concentrating on just one area.

Because he knew his strength was average, he had a habit of punishing by hitting the same spot repeatedly to multiply the pain. That habit came out unconsciously. He didn’t blame his habit that had invaded his unconscious, but the problem was that it was the face, and looking at the boy’s damaged face after coming to his senses made him regret it.

He grabbed the chin and twisted it. He examined the severely swollen left face, torn lips and eye area, and the condition of the pupils. Though severely bloodshot, the pupils were not damaged. The torn wounds also didn’t seem like they would leave scars. After confirming that the wounds would eventually subside, though it might take some time, he lowered his eyes. The shield, which had lifted due to moisture, had fallen off. The needle inside had also come out completely.

There was no one specific to blame. Though today’s sex was more violent than usual, the fundamental cause was that Geun-yeong had provoked his anger. However, he was very satisfied with the sex itself, and his body felt refreshed after the release, so he didn’t intend to blame Geun-yeong. He was just a bit angry at the manufacturer for making such a flimsy product that couldn’t withstand this level of moisture or stimulation.

This was why he had sex during insulin replacements, but today he simply couldn’t calm down. This too was not his fault, but the fault of the boy who had provoked him. While unfastening and setting down the belt with the needle protruding insecurely, he asked:

“Should I let you bathe in the tub? Can you go down to the first-floor bathroom?”

Geun-yeong shook his head. He couldn’t go down, and he shouldn’t go down.

Despite being severely beaten, he was answering obediently without frowning. Though he couldn’t be called pretty right now, thanks to the boy who was answering submissively with a calm face, Seokhun’s anger subsided. The boy who was acting as if he was offering medicine after giving a nasty disease was both annoying and lovable. This must be what they call love-hate.

“Alright, lie down. I’ll clean you up. First, I need to replace the needle.”

Ji Seokhun stepped down from the bed. After removing the insulin belt, he looked up and down at the truly naked body without anything on it, then turned around. He went out the door.

Geun-yeong, who had been glaring at the door until it closed completely, quickly raised his body. With his hands tied, he had to push himself up with his face. In the process, his nose also started bleeding, and his blood-covered face smeared on the sheet, leaving bloodstains. There was no time to be surprised by the amount of blood, which was more than expected.

Sitting up, Geun-yeong pushed his buttocks to move and tried to retrieve the phone he had hidden between the bed mattress and the wall. He inserted one of his bound hands into the gap. Thanks to the thick mattress, the gap was deep. His fingertips could touch it, but he couldn’t grab and pull it up. It seemed he needed to insert his hand up to the wrist to reach it.

For that, he needed to untie his bound hands. He twisted and shook his wrists, but the tape, which seemed to have been wrapped dozens of times, wouldn’t come loose. After frantically shaking and shaking and shaking, he gave up at the point he judged it to be useless. He put his hand back next to the mattress. Even when he pushed it in until the skin crushed by the packing tape felt like it was tearing, it was useless. He couldn’t reach it.

Thanks to the sexual intercourse that was longer than usual and in a lying position with legs spread, unlike the usual face-down position, his pelvis ached and his legs trembled. But there was no time to dawdle. He moved his trembling legs and got off the bed.

He searched the desk drawer. Though he knew there were no scissors, knives, or tools that could be used for self-harm or attacking someone, he still searched to see if there was anything that could cut the tape.

There wasn’t.

As soon as he thought it was useless to search further, Geun-yeong placed his wrists against the edge of the desk and scraped. He scraped and scraped and scraped to break the tape. Though the skin was scraped along with the tape and started bleeding, he continued. Just as he was about to show delight at seeing the corner slightly open with a snap, click—

The door opened.

Feeling as if his heart had dropped to the floor, Geun-yeong stopped his movement. Seeing Geun-yeong with his wrists against the desk edge, the man said:

“As if I wouldn’t untie you.”

The man put down a gray box on the bed and sat at the foot beside it.

Having missed the opportunity to make the report, Geun-yeong had to turn away from the desk edge, which he regretted insanely. Whether because his heart, which had fallen to the floor, was now beating mercilessly, or because of the aftermath of the recent intercourse, he moved his legs, which wouldn’t move well and kept staggering, and sat on the bed.

Ji Seokhun, who opened the gray box, took out medical scissors with blunt ends.

Seeing the scissors, Geun-yeong felt his frantically beating heart suddenly subside. He imagined that if the man cut this tape, he could snatch the scissors and cut the man’s neck vein. A thrill that ran through his fingertips, suggesting he could do such a thing if he just made up his mind right now, tingled electrifyingly up to his shoulder blades.

The man, unaware of the boy imagining cutting his throat, lifted the boy’s hand and snip, snip, cut and removed the tape. Then, looking at the scraped and torn wrists from different angles, he said:

“This needs treatment.”

And he raised his gaze from the wrists to look at the face.

“The face too.”

And again, unlike usual, he looked at the belly with nothing on it. Ji Seokhun had anxiety about the boy not wearing the device. The owner of a mastiff with its leash removed would probably feel the same. Despite spending a long time raising and training him, and knowing full well that he wasn’t a particularly fierce boy, he was still anxious. It seemed like he could only properly treat him with peace of mind if he attached the leash, no, the device.

“Let’s attach the pump first. Lie down.”

Geun-yeong lay down with movements that creaked like a poorly oiled robot.

Seokhun picked up the device, took out the syringe, and detached the unusable line and needle. He unwrapped and removed a new needle and connected it to the syringe. He pressed the button to fill the line. The sound of the motor turning, “zzzing,” could be heard. He lowered his hand holding the needle to the thigh and waited for it to be completely filled with medicine. While waiting, he looked at the guy lying quietly and called out.

“Geun-yeong.”

“Yes.”

“Know that a bigger wound has formed in my heart than the wounds on your face and hands.”

“…Yes.”

“Please, don’t hurt me anymore.”

“…Yes.”

Although his torn lips and tongue hurt with each answer, Geun-yeong responded diligently. Submitting with his tail tucked deep between his legs after being severely scolded—it was a habit conditioned by the man and an instinct to survive.

And on the other hand, it was also a ploy to create another opportunity. He planned to ask for something when the man seemed to be in a good mood after he acted obediently. His wrists were free now, and all he needed was for the man to leave the room again.