He hooked my right leg over his raised knee to keep me from closing it and began to feel around below.
“I’m going to touch you a bit first, to help it come out easily.”
“……”
What could I say?
I could only close my eyes, lower my head, and bite my swollen lip, wishing for this moment to pass quickly.
“Hngh, hht.”
But it wasn’t easy to remain silent as his fingers fumbled inside me, where I was still acutely sensitive. The act of touching inside my anus for cleanup after the heat of sex had faded made my ears and face flush more than even the most obscene position we’d been in.
As if sensing my distress, he pressed a placating kiss to the nape of my bent neck.
“Ugh…”
As the fingers that had been gently scraping my inner walls carefully spread the entrance, a slick mixture of fluid gushed out from inside. It was a chilling sensation. When I opened my eyes, the cloudy spread of semen was distinct in the clear bathwater. What in the world…
Overwhelmed by the sight, I bit my lip once more. Without having to turn and look, I knew his gaze must be fixed on the murky bloom clouding the water as it seeped from my hole.
It was his semen, of course, and yet… it felt like a secretion made inside me… making me feel like a different, unfamiliar being. My face, and surely the nape of my neck exposed to him, must have turned red.
“Don’t look…”
As I mumbled in a small voice, he chuckled lowly, his lips still buried in my neck.
“Why not? It’s a shame to miss it. It’s a fine sight.”
Then, he pressed a firm kiss to the back of my neck before sliding his lips along my shoulder line.
“Push and release, a little at a time.”
To have me push in this position, with my legs spread and lifted. It felt just like… haah…
I don’t think I was this ashamed even when he had lifted my groin to his chest and licked my anus right in front of me. My face felt like it would explode, but accepting the situation and following his instructions was the only way to get it over with as quickly as possible. I had no choice.
Rubbing his lips against my skin as if to encourage me, he used his index and middle fingers to stretch the entrance of my anus. It was surely an act to help with the expulsion. But whether it was because his lips on my shoulder seemed to be smiling, or because his fingers seemed to be creating a subtle, unnecessary friction, my thoughts kept drifting toward the sexual.
“A lot has come out already. Are you always such a quick learner?”
“……”
A faint trace of amusement colored his voice, but I was in no state to say anything, just as before.
It was strange, even to myself, how I could be bold enough to beg for the knot and make him lose the reason he was barely holding onto, only to turn into a complete prude the moment I was off the bed. But this side of me was the more familiar one.
“Relax and sit for a little longer.”
He helped me up and had me lean against the edge of the tub, then walked over to the shower stall on the opposite side. And, as if completely unaware of another person in the same space, he quickly finished his shower. At least, he seemed unaware.
Perhaps I was the one being overly self-conscious. Considering his age of thirty-two and the skilled, sophisticated manners he displayed in bed, it didn’t seem likely that he would get awkward after every time he had sex and shrink under his partner’s gaze.
It struck me anew just how inexperienced I still was in every way. When he was kind, or when he looked at me with an amused smile as if finding me cute, I sometimes wondered if it was proof that he, too, saw me as a little special. But then I would see how calm and composed he was, unlike me, and it would feel like it was all just my delusion, just his ingrained manners.
Grasping the inner world of a man ten years my senior was not easy. It was even harder when that man was Liu Weikun.
While I was staring down into the water, which had been murky when the semen flowed out but was now diluted and clear again, he toweled himself dry and left the bathroom.
I sat a little longer before getting up, and as I was showering myself off with legs that still wouldn’t quite hold my weight, he soon returned to the bathroom. He then sat me down on the built-in ledge and washed my hair for me.
“Close your eyes.”
When I obediently closed my eyes, a warm stream of water poured over my head, washing away the shampoo lather. He threaded his large hands through my hair, rinsing out the suds more thoroughly.
By now, it felt meaningless to be conscious of and stubborn about every little thing. The water stopped, and feeling like a big-bodied child, I chuckled and rubbed my eyes. Standing before me, he gently cupped my chin and tilted my head up, washing away the remaining suds from my face as well.
His kindness was almost overwhelming.
As if we had always been like this, or as if he always spent his time this way after sex… everything was utterly natural.
Just as when we had entered the bathroom, I had to be practically carried back to the bedroom, supported by him, even though my legs weren’t injured.
In the meantime, the sheets had been changed. On the clean, new sheets, fresh underwear and pajamas for me were laid out.
Even though I was the one who had been penetrated and he hadn’t been as physically strained, if we were to argue over who had expended more stamina, it was without a doubt not me. Whether it was because he was a Golden Alpha or due to his personal ability, his stamina was admirable. Even now, he showed no signs of fatigue.
“They’ll be a bit big. I only have my size at home.”
“Okay.”
My lower back was heavy and throbbing, and honestly, even standing was a bit of a struggle. As I sat on the bed and got dressed, he also put on underwear and sweatpants. Still shirtless, as if it were his habit to sleep without a top in the summer, he stood beside me, looking down as I slowly dressed.
The underwear was embarrassingly loose, not just in its overall circumference, but especially in the front. It wasn’t a matter of pride as a fellow man. In the first place, it was a stretch to group a Golden Alpha male and a Beta male as ‘fellow men.’ While nothing had been scientifically proven about genetic superiorities like physical ability or intellect, the fact that Alphas had superior reproductive capabilities was an established fact.
“I’ll have to buy a few pairs in your size, Seo Yeehyeon.”
“……”
He said that as he turned and walked toward the refrigerator. I looked up in surprise, but he was no longer looking at me. My hands, which had been buttoning my pajama top, froze as I fixed my eyes on his back while he bent down to take out a bottle of water.
His whisper during sex, that I could have him whenever I wanted, came back to me. Did keeping underwear and clothes in my size mean he was confident I would seek him out again? Or was it his way of expressing that he, too, intended to continue this relationship, this sex?
Standing in front of the fridge, he drained almost an entire bottle of water, then took out a new one, twisted the cap, and walked toward me. I awkwardly lowered my gaze and started buttoning my top again.
“You look like a kid wearing his dad’s underwear, so that’s…”
He said, handing me the water bottle, his gaze lingering on my loose underwear. The nuance wasn’t one of flaunting his own penis size to belittle me. On the contrary, despite his words, his eyes as they looked down at my underwear held a secret stickiness that made me instinctively draw my legs together.
After taking a few sips of water, I set the bottle on the nightstand and put on my pants while still sitting. He lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed. A simple, white ceramic ashtray was placed between us.
“What I said earlier… it might have sounded like a passing comment.”
He propped his feet on the solid bed frame, rested an elbow on his bent knee, and spoke, exhaling a stream of smoke.
“From now on, if you have any problems, you can come to me like you did today. I wasn’t just saying that.”
I had wondered if it was just something said in the heat of the moment in bed. His explanation was as if he had read my mind.
He was sitting facing the sofa, so I, sitting by the headboard, could comfortably watch his profile. He took the next drag a little impatiently, then furrowed his brow and let out a long stream of smoke as if sighing.
“I know you’re not the type to lean on or ask others for help, but it’s perfectly natural not to have the power to solve real-world problems at your age… and consulting with and relying on adults for those things doesn’t make you weak or dependent…”
I was surprised by how well he understood me. What I worried about, what I hesitated over. He knew it all so clearly, even though I’d never said a word. Was the ten-year age gap really this significant?
I felt abashed, like a self-conscious adolescent who, after pretending to be mature, was forced to face the fact that he was, in the end, just a child in crucial moments. But more than that, I was grateful for his words.
Perhaps they were words I had desperately wanted to hear from someone stronger and wiser than me, words I desperately needed to get back on a normal track. That it was okay to consult and rely on someone. That doing so didn’t mean I was causing trouble or making myself dependent… Since I couldn’t be sure on my own, perhaps I had been waiting, more than anything, for someone with a large, trustworthy presence to tell me so.
And yet, my chest felt tight, as if something was pressing down on it.
I needed to thank him, but my mouth wouldn’t open, roiling with a complex mix of emotions as if I had heard something sad. I opened and closed my mouth, as if to speak, but ended up biting my lower lip hard.
For a long while, only the sound of his breathing as he smoked filled the room, which had not a single clock on its walls.
“You asked me before… if I liked that painting, ‘Isolation’.”
“……”
My gaze, which had been fixed somewhere on the sheets, was drawn up on its own. My eyes widened, and my pulse quickened. I hadn’t expected him to still remember that question.
“My parents divorced because of me.”
And I had never imagined that a question about whether he liked my painting would lead to this kind of story.
I had defined him in my mind as someone who kept his stories buried deep, but his voice, as he began to confess a part of his past, was as level and dispassionate as if he were reading from a book.
“It’s a complicated issue, too long to explain, and not something I’d detail to others, so to put it briefly… they got a sham divorce to protect me, even though there were no problems in their relationship. They continued to see each other, hiding from public view, but how could I not feel guilty about that situation? No one ever said it was because of me, but I naturally came to understand as I grew up.”
Tapping his ash into the ashtray between us, he ran his other hand, the one not holding the cigarette, through his hair.
“That I was the reason a set that was only complete when together had been unnaturally torn apart.”
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