Pale-faced, Choi Suho laboriously took the caramel candy and chewed it like he was grinding raw garlic, his expression twisted. He struggled to swallow, then gulped down the water beside him in one go. Afterward, he slumped against the railing of the hospital bed, panting.
Ji Haesu watched the entire process from where he sat on the same bed, his eyes filled with satisfaction and anticipation.
“Haa, haa, ugh, I think I’m going to—”
Choi Suho clapped a hand over his mouth, his face contorting as if he were about to retch. He looked just like—
“A pregnant Omega? Well, we have sex every day, so it’s no wonder you’d—”
THWACK!
“Shut the fuck up, you bastard!”
Choi Suho lashed out with his foot, deliberately aiming for the cheek Ji Haesu had slashed with a knife. Ji Haesu caught his ankle and yanked him closer.
“Ugh!”
“This little shit has no manners.”
“Fuck you! You’re the one talking nonsense!”
SLAP!
“You? Did you just say you? Call me hyung.”
Ji Haesu pinned Choi Suho down with his massive frame, pressing him into the bed like a dominant beast subduing another male. Choi Suho’s face went white, his body stiffening. His right cheek, still bruised from the knife wound, was too swollen to tell when it would return to its usual pale complexion. Instead, he clutched his left cheek, which had just taken the hit, and snapped, “A hyung who rapes his own brother every day? Where the hell does that exist?!”
“Right here.”
“Get the fuck out!”
Choi Suho tried to shove Ji Haesu’s nose—the one he had broken—with his left hand, but Ji Haesu seized his wrist. Their hands trembled in the air, locked in a silent struggle. Ji Haesu smirked.
“I’ve been trying to keep my face pretty so I can meet your father for the first time, but you keep messing it up.”
Choi Suho scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about, you piece of shit?”
“Who else is going to take responsibility for trash like you? Suho.”
“Fuck, who asked you to take responsibility for me?”
Ji Haesu gripped his left hand tightly and said, “Your client requested it. Told me never to let you back into society again. Told me to take responsibility for you.”
At those words, Choi Suho’s eyes widened, his composure faltering. Ugh, this pisses me off. Why does he always react like this when the client is mentioned? It’s one thing when it’s about his father, but—
“And before your father passes, I need to show him the person who’ll take care of you so he can rest easy…”
“My father is passing?”
Choi Suho’s reaction shifted instantly when the topic turned from the client back to his father. Much better. That’s right—react to me, not Do Si-in. Do Si-in is already your past. I’m the one who’s going to keep you alive now.
“Speak clearly! Is my father that critical?!”
Ji Haesu, who knew everything, just shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”
“Fuck, you—!”
“Did you hire me? Or call your family and ask them yourself. Oh right, you can’t, since you don’t even have the Jang last name.”
“You fucking bastard!”
Do Si-in had deliberately scratched at Choi Suho’s deepest insecurities, and now Choi Suho was thrashing in rage. Glaring at Ji Haesu like he wanted to kill him, he grabbed the IV pole with his left hand and tried to pull himself up.
But in an instant, Ji Haesu’s grip slammed him back onto the bed.
“Gah!”
“You want to go?”
“It’s my choice! I want to see my father—!”
“I already told you what the client said. Don’t let trash like you run loose.”
“Fuck you, let go! I’m going to my father!”
Subduing Choi Suho was simple. His body was growing weaker, softer—Omega-like—by the day. Ji Haesu, who ravaged him daily, could feel it: the once-firm muscles turning pliant, his waist narrowing into a delicate curve that fit perfectly in Ji Haesu’s hands. His chest, once toned, was now rounding with fat, softening in a way that made dominant Alphas salivate. His sharp features were growing delicate, almost pretty.
Choi Suho didn’t realize it, but Ji Haesu did.
And now, as Ji Haesu pressed down on him with his 110 kg of muscle, Choi Suho could barely breathe. His softening body and lungs struggled under the weight, the air crushing out of him. After a while, his eyes rolled back, his body twitching from lack of oxygen.
Seizing the moment, Ji Haesu stripped off the oversized hospital pants. Morning, noon, and night, he had been fucking Choi Suho on the client’s orders—no underwear, always ready.
“Mmm…”
Ji Haesu kept Choi Suho’s upper body pinned but lifted his lower half. Instinctively, Choi Suho’s legs spread—an unconditional Omega reflex, his body preparing to accept an Alpha.
“Good boy, Suho.”
Ji Haesu stroked his hair with one hand while the other found the swollen, cum-and-lube-slicked hole. Choi Suho let out a pained whimper, his unfocused eyes filling with tears as the pain registered. It was pitiful.
“Ah…”
His lips trembled, the light fading from his eyes as the word “again” flickered across his face before he squeezed them shut. Who does he think he is? Why the dramatic act? Annoyed, Ji Haesu slapped his left cheek hard.
SLAP!
“Ngh!”
The sharp sting jolted Choi Suho back to his senses. He glared at Ji Haesu, his voice trembling with fury. “You said you were going to meet my father! Said you wanted to look good! And then you hit me like this? You’re so fucking—!”
“You, you, you—fix that habit first. Or I won’t let you see your father.”
Choi Suho fell silent. Instead, he clenched the sheets with his left hand—the one Ji Haesu had forbidden from having an IV—and threw his head back as the thick, massive cock forced its way inside. The pain was unbearable, his body tensing as the pale pink monstrosity stretched him open.
“Call me hyung.”
“…”
But pain couldn’t stop the tears. Choi Suho opened his eyes, brimming with them, and looked up at Ji Haesu. His face was a mess—bruised cheeks, dried blood at the corners of his mouth, a bandage on his forehead. He looked like a broken patient.
Why does this trash look so damn pretty today?
“Say it. Call me hyung…”
Choi Suho choked out, “If I do… will you… let me see my father? Hng—ah!”
At that moment, Ji Haesu’s cock, already halfway in, plunged deep. And then—something strange happened.
Sex had always been painful, forced. No, it wasn’t even sex—just rape. Omegas had pleasure points, but Alphas didn’t. Alpha-on-Alpha was just mounting, pure agony. But now—
This unfamiliar, tingling sensation inside him made Choi Suho push against Ji Haesu’s chest with his left hand.
“Ah, ha, don’t! This—this feels weird! I don’t like it…”
It was the first time. Choi Suho’s voice was breathy, trembling—not just in pain, but something sweeter, almost like a moan. He had always just grunted or whimpered, but now he was lost, his voice breaking in a way that sounded almost pleasured.
Ji Haesu grabbed Choi Suho’s round, reddened ass with his right hand and squeezed before slapping it hard. The impact made Choi Suho clench around him, his inner walls gripping Ji Haesu’s cock tightly.
“Ngh!”
“Suho, you like it?”
“N-no… I don’t…!”
Ji Haesu pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, pressing against that hidden spot inside. A strange sound escaped Choi Suho’s lips. Shocked, he clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he stared at Ji Haesu, lost, like a child who had taken a wrong turn.
He was so cute, so lovable, that Ji Haesu bared his teeth in a grin.
“You are feeling it, huh?”
“No, I’m not!”
“Liar.” Ji Haesu grabbed Choi Suho’s hand—the one covering his mouth—and forced it down to his own cock.
Choi Suho’s face froze.
His cock was rock hard, standing stiff in the air.
