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Things weren't supposed to turn out like this.
Han Yoojin felt that he was truly in big trouble. He stood frozen, suddenly realizing how heavy a burden his legs had become—taking even half a step would require unimaginable effort.
Looking around, the rocky beach and the vast lake were scattered with monster corpses, large and small, of various shapes. The only thing they had in common was that all of them were charred black, their original forms unrecognizable. The air reeked of burning.
"…"
Reason warned Han Yoojin to leave this place of trouble immediately. The window showing that Fear Resistance had taken effect popped up before his eyes, but he couldn't just turn around and flee like a startled rabbit, because the man who had entered the dungeon with him was just five meters away, sitting on a smooth stone, quietly staring at him.
"I…" Han Yoojin swallowed. His throat felt tight. "I'm sorry… I'll explain… You…"
Numerous words rushed to his lips, but facing those abnormally cold golden eyes, Han Yoojin couldn't continue. It was as if a bitter wind had suddenly blown through the dungeon, which always felt like summer, and his spine went cold.
"Sorry?"
That man softly repeated Han Yoojin's words, as if he hadn't understood. He narrowed his eyes. "Why should my partner apologize? I'm the one who should apologize. I scared you, didn't I?"
"I'm sorry, Yoojin-ah."
Fear Resistance was screaming like an alarm, urging Han Yoojin to flee. He opened his mouth, then closed it. His heart pounded violently.
More than the bright red bloodstains on the man before him, what unsettled Han Yoojin was his usual calm and elegant tone—as if nothing had happened, as if everything was peaceful.
Hours earlier, this man had spoken in the same tone:
"Satisfied with the view, dear guest?"
"Aren't you tired of playing tour guide yet?" Han Yoojin sighed sincerely, stepping over the crushed stones beneath his feet as he walked toward the lake. The lake was calm and serene, with gently undulating waves sparkling under the sunlight. In the distance stood an unbroken range of verdant mountains.
"So, where's the boss?"
Han Yoojin raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, scanning the seemingly endless lake. "At the bottom?"
"How heartbreaking. We haven't seen each other in so long, and finally we have an undisturbed date, yet my partner only cares about dungeon raid rewards."
Sung Hyunjae wiped away fake tears. Han Yoojin rolled his eyes and pushed him, but when he couldn't dislodge the hand wrapped around his own waist, he instead tugged on the S-rank's tie, forcing him to lower his head.
"Who said this was a date?"
Han Yoojin pretended to be displeased, but in reality, he was doing his utmost to suppress the urge to step back. That face—damnably delicate face—being too close was clearly detrimental to an F-rank's mental health, not to mention that (feigned) pitiful expression.
To hide his unease, Han Yoojin deliberately leaned in until their noses almost touched.
"When did we start dating?" He cleared his mind of distractions and put on a malicious smile.
"I was simply invited by the guild master of Seseong to come get an item suitable for my child."
"...I didn't expect Yoojin-gun to be this kind of person." Sung Hyunjae was silent for two seconds, then narrowed his eyes. His voice sounded even more dejected.
"What kind of person?"
"A faithless heartbreaker who seduces and abandons. Weren't you the one begging me in bed—"
One hand quickly covered Sung Hyunjae's mouth. Han Yoojin couldn't help but clench his teeth. How dare those golden eyes stare back at him with such innocence? Damn it! How dare Sung Hyunjae bring up that incident from a month ago?!
It was purely an accident. Han Yoojin had been drunk, completely and utterly drunk. He couldn't remember a single thing that had happened. When he woke up, completely unprepared, he found himself changed into pajamas and lying in Sung Hyunjae's bed.
Han Yoojin didn't want to know what Sung Hyunjae meant by "didn't go all the way," nor did he want to accept that man's ulterior apology. He reflected deeply and concluded that he should never have been coaxed into turning off Poison Resistance. Damn Sung Hyunjae.
"Nothing even happened, by your own words," Han Yoojin said, his expression darkening. "Don't expect me to take responsibility for you."
He released both hands at the same time, ignoring the lingering warmth in his palms and ignoring Sung Hyunjae's wrinkled tie from being grabbed too hard. He turned and continued walking toward the water.
Sung Hyunjae didn't try to stop him. He merely stopped behind him and sighed. "So you're still angry. Is that why you've been avoiding me?"
Han Yoojin didn't look back. "Why would I avoid you? And I'm not angry, if you'd stop provoking me."
Fine, he really had been deliberately avoiding Sung Hyunjae. The fuzzy memories were one thing, but the thought that he might have had an "intimate encounter" with Sung Hyunjae sent a chill down Han Yoojin's spine.
There was no shame, no secret regret or desire clawing at his chest that made him want to curl up and hide his burning cheeks and reddened neck.
Absolutely none.
Han Yoojin had wanted to pretend everything was normal, finish clearing this B-rank dungeon, and go home to sleep comfortably.
Unfortunately, Sung Hyunjae wasn't about to let him off the hook. Expected, haha. Why on earth did he agree to that bastard's invitation in the first place?
"Yoojin-gun," Sung Hyunjae called out slowly. "Have you considered this? If I hadn't invited you, when would you have agreed to see me?"
"Good question. The answer is never."
"So heartless. I'll be crushed."
"I'm honored to be able to crush your heart."
Whether it was his imagination or not, Han Yoojin thought, there was a tension in Sung Hyunjae's voice that was completely different from his usual nonsensical rambling—like a string stretched to its limit, about to snap at any moment.
As if Sung Hyunjae wasn't joking, wasn't putting on a boring stage play with his F-rank.
If Han Yoojin didn't know Sung Hyunjae, he might have thought he was being serious. That was certainly impossible. Who knew what madness had taken hold of this lunatic now.
Wind brushed across the lake, bypassed the only two visitors, and delved into the nearby forest. The boss was still nowhere to be seen.
Despite having studied the information in advance, Han Yoojin grew impatient with the caution of this aquatic monster. The gaze Sung Hyunjae was sending from behind made his skin crawl, adding fuel to the fire.
"...I'm afraid we'll have to wait a while longer. Why don't you electrocute it to force it out? Let's just finish this quickly. I have damage nullification gear anyway."
Han Yoojin raised a finger to point at the choker around his neck. He was sure Sung Hyunjae could see and hear him, but… damn it, god, why was he just standing there motionless?
An unnatural silence fell over the lake. Han Yoojin was almost at his limit. "...Sung Hyunjae?"
"I'm here."
You're aware that you're here? Han Yoojin complained inwardly. He was about to command Sung Hyunjae without caring about the consequences, but he didn't have time to utter even half a prepared word.
"Cough—"
Blood sprayed onto the pebble-strewn shallows. At the same time, an irresistible, powerful force crushed his internal organs.
Somehow, it didn't trigger the blue bird that was supposed to protect Han Yoojin, nor did it activate any of his defensive skills. Pain and dizziness assaulted him together. Han Yoojin's vision went dark, and he couldn't keep his balance.
"Yoojin?!"
A ringing filled his brain. Han Yoojin instinctively reached out to try to steady himself, only to find that his hands were rapidly dissipating, turning into countless fleeting specks of light. He turned his head in surprise.
Just before losing consciousness, he thought he saw a panicked expression on Sung Hyunjae's face.
He must have seen it wrong.
…
...
“…honey?”
“…Can you hear me? honey?”
“I told you…”
“…another way…”
Voices. So many voices chattering noisily. Han Yoojin’s head throbbed violently. He couldn’t help but furrow his brows, and in an instant, the clamor fell into complete silence.
A few seconds later, a familiar voice asked cautiously, “How are you feeling?”
He opened his eyes. Everything was pitch black. A volleyball carved with a childlike cartoon face was hovering in mid-air, looking down at him. The other system administrators’ chibi avatars were gathered around.
Han Yoojin barely managed to prop himself up. A coppery, sweet aftertaste lingered in his throat, and his stomach churned violently. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Ugh… what the hell happened?”
“I’m so sorry, honey!” The volleyball made a crying face. “It was a dungeon glitch! Recently, we’ve discovered that a very small number of dungeons will inexplicably reject raiders below their own level. This rejection operates on a conceptual level and isn’t affected by any skills or equipment, so even though honey has damage nullification gear, it was useless!”
“This degree of anomaly doesn’t really seem like ‘their’ doing, but even if it’s just a glitch, we still need time to fix it. Right now, we can only transfer the unfortunate people who’ve been affected and send them back once the glitch disappears.”
“…You’re saying this glitch can just disappear on its own?”
“That’s right!” the deer interjected.
The system administrators talked over each other. Han Yoojin grasped the gist of it, understanding that his miserable predicament had originated from an unannounced, mysterious repulsive force. If the system hadn’t intervened promptly, things would have been far worse than just spitting up some blood.
Most of the time, people about to be forcibly rejected would be sent to a pre-constructed safe room. After the creators of the system confirmed it was safe, they would erase the unfortunate person’s memory and drop them back at their original location.
No wonder there had been news abroad recently about raiders suddenly disappearing from dungeons and then reappearing mysteriously. Han Yoojin held his forehead, his feelings complicated.
“Though the cause is unknown, we’ve already found a way to fix it. A week at most—there won’t be any more victims!” The deer-shaped creature said cheerfully. Han Yoojin wanted to sneer at him.
They couldn’t even confirm when they could send him back. These unreliable… wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Sung Hyunjae was still inside the dungeon…
“Is the flow of time here the same as outside?”
“Same,” the water droplet said.
“How long… was I out?”
“Almost four hours. Luckily, nothing serious happened. Your adverse reactions disappeared as soon as you left the dungeon.”
“Then Sung Hyunjae… can you see what Sung Hyunjae is doing, right? Did you tell him what happened?”
“You mean ‘Chain’?” A moment of hesitation. “Actually, we tried to send him a message window, but due to the dungeon glitch fluctuations, the message arrived later than planned.”
“How much later?”
“Two hours late. We’re really sorry.”
“…So what is he doing?”
“He hunted down every living thing in the dungeon. After that, he sat by the lake. But he looks very calm. Don’t worry, I think he knows you’re fine.”
Very calm? Han Yoojin lowered his head and heard his own clear heartbeat.
Calling him an arrogant control freak might be overstating it, but Sung Hyunjae was by no means a pushover willing to watch something slip through his fingers.
Han Yoojin knew him. He hated losing control. Even if he understood the reason, he might not accept Han Yoojin suddenly disappearing for several hours without warning.
That old man was incredibly difficult to handle when he threw a tantrum, and he’d been acting a bit strange today to begin with. Half annoyed and half worried, Han Yoojin scratched his hair. He asked again, “Can I go back now?”
“Not yet, please wait a little longer. We’ll keep an eye on things for you.”
Fine.
After all, Sung Hyunjae wasn’t Yoohyun. It wasn’t like he would call down lightning to strike the entire dungeon. No, even Yoohyun wouldn’t do something like that these days.
Would he be angry? Would he… be unsettled? That didn’t suit him at all. Han Yoojin remembered the expression he had glimpsed just before he lost consciousness. He found it hard to believe that such an expression could appear on Sung Hyunjae’s face. It was too unfamiliar. Besides, Han Yoojin wasn’t that important to Sung Hyunjae.
So Han Yoojin thought of that past incident. He thought of waiting for Yerim to come out of the dungeon. He thought of what he had lost. He thought of the regret and pain buried deep in his heart back then. His back bumped against Sung Hyunjae’s chest. The tall man looked down at him, his eyes widening.
Before Han Yoojin could analyze what the wavering in that gaze actually meant, he was pulled into a warm embrace.
Yet the expression Han Yoojin suspected might have been an illusion was not the same as that one from the past. Besides surprise, besides momentary panic, there was something even more fragile and even sharper mixed in, something like…
“Seems like it’s ready.” After half an hour, the system administrator finally said something reassuring.
“Tests normal. Can return.”
“Our honey is a special guest. No memory wipe needed.”
Han Yoojin couldn’t be bothered to deal with their rambling. He thanked them politely, closed his eyes as instructed, and gradually felt the outdoor breeze caressing his forehead and the slightly hot air massaging his skin.
Where was that burning smell coming from? Oh, Sung Hyunjae must have done it. Han Yoojin opened his eyes.
━━━━━━━━━
“Aren’t you coming over?” Sung Hyunjae asked amicably. He was even smiling.
“No… it’s not that I won’t come over…” Han Yoojin chose his words carefully. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?”
Sung Hyunjae crossed his legs and rested his chin on the back of his hand.
“Nothing’s wrong with me. The boss is dead. I’ve collected the item you wanted. Shall we go back now? The young master should be coming out of his dungeon soon, too.”
“…Let me confirm. You did receive the message from the system, right?”
“Of course I received it. Apparently it was an extremely low-probability event, yet it happened to you. Is my partner extremely lucky or extremely unlucky?”
“Let’s go with lucky… ahem… thank you. Let’s go back.”
The boss was dead. The portal had already opened. Han Yoojin looked at Sung Hyunjae and noticed that he showed no intention of leaving, his posture unchanged even slightly. After hesitating repeatedly, Han Yoojin said:
“I really didn’t expect things to turn out like this. If you’re upset, just say it properly. If I were in your position, I wouldn’t be happy either.”
“Indeed. If it were the young master who had encountered this, Yoojin-gun would be extremely anxious.” Sung Hyunjae nodded calmly. He stood up, stepped over several scattered limbs, and approached Han Yoojin step by step.
A strong smell of blood rushed into Han Yoojin’s nostrils. He frowned involuntarily. Ignoring another Fear Resistance pop-up, he noticed that the bloodstains on Sung Hyunjae’s palms were especially thick.
How could killing a few B-rank monsters get your hands that bloody? Droplets of blood swayed and dripped with each step, seeping into the layers of crushed stone, just like the blood Han Yoojin had spat onto the ground.
“Are your hands injured?” Han Yoojin asked, incredulous.
“Hm?” Sung Hyunjae blinked in confusion. He raised his hand and looked at it. A fresh, long gash lay across his palm. “Oh.”
“You’re really strange, Sung Hyunjae. You didn’t notice you were injured? No—what could hurt you without you even realizing it?”
“I was too careless. That’s why I need my partner.” The bastard laughed without a care. He stood in front of Han Yoojin, bent down, and as the distance between their heads kept shrinking, he cupped the younger man’s face in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
Han Yoojin asked softly, trying as discreetly as possible to hold his breath. He gazed into Sung Hyunjae’s eyes, searching for his own reflection in the bright gold—for that reluctant shadow of himself—so he could distract himself and quiet his pounding heart.
If a single kiss could end this farce, it would be well worth it.
After all, well, it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before. There was no law saying non-couples couldn’t kiss. Inside dungeons, inside hospitals, inside the facility, even inside that bastard’s house—whenever other people’s eyes finally looked away from them, a certain secret delight would pass from lip to lip.
Those kisses, no more substantial than a feather, those weightless kisses, melted into every flirtatious remark disguised as sarcasm. Han Yoojin didn’t really know what he was doing. Ever since meeting Sung Hyunjae, he had been forced to face countless moments when he should have run, yet he never did.
Someday, Sung Hyunjae would get bored (that crazy bastard pervert would find him dull, damn it). Han Yoojin hoped they could maintain a friendly cooperative relationship, since this S-rank was useful in every sense of the word.
Of course, assuming the apocalypse didn’t arrive first, cutting ties would be fine too. No one was so indispensable that they couldn’t live without someone else.
“Sung Hyunjae.”
Han Yoojin murmured in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. He lowered his eyes, his field of vision gradually narrowing until it faded into darkness. He waited for that warm yet fleeting sensation.
“…”
The other man’s gentle breathing brushed across his skin. Han Yoojin heard a soft laugh.
“Why are you closing your eyes? I just wanted to check if you were hurt.”
Sung Hyunjae asked the question even though he already knew the answer. He lowered his hands and stepped back, creating distance, shamelessly leaving damp, sticky streaks on both of Han Yoojin’s cheeks. A drop of blood stained Han Yoojin’s collar. His eyes snapped open.
“You…” Han Yoojin’s brow furrowed even more deeply than before, but then he paused. The ensuing silence made him thoughtful:
“You’re angry.”
“My partner came back safe and sound. Why would I be angry? If you’re suggesting I’m annoyed because I waited too long, that’s even more impossible. I’ve always been patient.”
“You injured your own hand.”
“I won’t deny that, but it was just an accident.”
This goddamn old bastard. Han Yoojin ground his molars and decided to follow his instincts. Without any explanation, he strode forward, grabbed Sung Hyunjae by the collar, and unhesitatingly crashed into those hypocritical lips.
“Yoojin—”
Shut up. Just shut up. Han Yoojin bit the man’s lower lip in frustration. He tried to pry apart the teeth blocking his tongue, and it was impossibly smooth.
His own tongue tangled with the other’s. Their breaths merged. The indistinct, fragmented wet sounds drowned Han Yoojin’s reason and devoured his ability to think.
He couldn’t catch his breath anymore. The hunger and thirst surging up from deep inside his body threatened to make him bite off a piece of that man’s flesh, to keep a part of him forever. Otherwise, he would eventually fly far away. Worst of all, he might vanish without a trace, setting off alone on the next leg of his eternal life.
“Cough… ugh…” Han Yoojin pushed the older man away, choking on his own saliva. “Cough, cough… feeling better now?”
“Oh.”
Sung Hyunjae seemed to understand something. He touched his shimmering wet lips. “My partner is comforting me.”
“Stop sulking.” Han Yoojin panted, grabbed one of Sung Hyunjae’s wrists, bit open the cap of a healing potion, and poured it over the wound, then did the same for the other hand.
The gruesome wounds vanished instantly. Sung Hyunjae cooperatively flexed his hands as Han Yoojin said seriously:
“We need to report this to the Association and the other guilds. As far as I know, nothing like this has happened in Korea yet. I might well be the first case. Since the system said it’ll take up to a week to fix the glitch, we need to—”
“This is an extremely low-probability event,” Sung Hyunjae interrupted. “How severe are the consequences of being rejected?”
Han Yoojin raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t the system tell you? This is a matter of life and death. I almost died. You saw me spit up blood, didn’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“Then why don’t you understand? Let’s get out of here quickly.”
“Um, also,” Han Yoojin touched the back of his neck and looked away, “sorry for making you worry. I’m really sorry.”
“Go where?” Sung Hyunjae asked, ignoring Han Yoojin’s apology.
Han Yoojin looked at him and blinked. “I’m going to the Association. You’d better come with me.”
“Alright.” A smile.
Why was he suddenly so obedient? Han Yoojin was completely baffled, and therefore failed to guard against Sung Hyunjae’s sudden approach.
He saw the man reach out and place a hand on his shoulder. He was about to say he didn’t need support, but in the next second, a sharp force struck the back of his neck. Han Yoojin’s body went limp. He didn’t even realize he had lost consciousness.
━━━━━━━━━
People often say that patience is a virtue.
Sung Hyunjae didn’t believe he possessed such a virtue, nor did he deign to strive for such moral qualities aligned with mainstream social and cultural values. But he had indeed been enduring.
Long ago—though now it didn’t feel like long—he had wanted to turn Han Yoojin into an item he could use at any time, to carry him along, or better yet, to store him in an unknown place to be carefully tended, maximizing the F-rank’s value.
But the people around Han Yoojin were watching like hawks. Killing them would risk a major falling-out with Han Yoojin. Sung Hyunjae saw no need to ruin such a precious item over it. Well, fine. There would be opportunities in the future. Fortunately, the F-rank’s skills couldn’t be easily possessed by anyone.
When had it started? That slender, small figure had become incredibly vivid in Sung Hyunjae’s mind, no longer part of the blurry background of the masses.
The name Han Yoojin seemed to possess a special magic. Sung Hyunjae uttered it, letting it roll across his soft palate, his tongue tasting a subtle bitterness that grew stronger by the day. He swallowed each dose of bitterness, letting it accumulate, layer upon layer, like a swamp slowly devouring his internal organs.
The unfamiliar sensation, one he had never experienced before, awakened his instinctive defense mechanisms. Sung Hyunjae gazed for a long time at the unknown mystery that was Han Yoojin, longing to pull at it, to tear it apart, to trample it, to utterly destroy the source of his wavering.
Sung Hyunjae found himself unable to do it.
Many times he looked over, and Han Yoojin, oblivious, would meet his gaze. Those bright black eyes carried him within them, burning with an unquenchable, steadfast flame.
Even when sad, even when afraid, even when angry, there was something in the depths of his eyes that Sung Hyunjae had never expected to see. It was perhaps part of what formed Han Yoojin’s core—shining, captivating, drawing in everyone fortunate enough to behold those eyes.
“Sung Hyunjae, what are you thinking about?” The owner of those eyes asked casually, downing another glass of alcohol.
I want to dig out your eyes and soak them in chemical solution, so that you can only look at me, and look at me forever. I want to tear apart your flawless, perfect flesh, kiss your internal organs and bones, then crush them. I want to dissect your brain and your heart, to figure out exactly what is making me so unlike myself.
I want to break you, like breaking a vase, and then spend a long time piecing you back together. I want every single scar on your body that cannot heal to be caused by me.
I want absolute ownership over you, even though you are not an object. I want you to be isolated and helpless, to lose every support, so that you can only rely on me.
I want… I want to touch your hidden wounds, and then heal them at any cost. I want to see you laugh out loud without a care, I want to dispel the storms that hang over your life. I want to feel every beat of your heart, and I want to hear it beat forever without stopping.
I don't know. Have I fallen in love with you?
"I was thinking," Sung Hyunjae only laughed as usual, "that Yoojin-gun is truly popular."
He was referring to the gifts sent by an anonymous fanatic to the facility. At first, Han Yoojin thought it was just a fan of one of his kids, someone who probably wanted to work at his facility.
But the confession letters kept coming along with the gifts. Han Yoojin finally surrendered, acknowledging amidst teasing and concern that the stranger's "kind intentions" were directed at him.
"That person doesn't even know me!"
Han Yoojin's ears turned red. "How would I know what they're thinking? And since when… does one person prove popularity? They haven't sent anything lately either. They've probably given up. Luckily, they don't seem to be a bad person—they haven't negatively affected the kids."
That person wouldn't be harassing Han Yoojin anymore. That audacious B-rank hunter.
"Come to think of it, you S-ranks are the popular ones! No matter where you go, everyone praises how good-looking you are, how great your physique is. Don't you have a lot of popularity both domestically and internationally? Ah… damn it, you really do…"
Han Yoojin muttered something under his breath. Sung Hyunjae couldn't help but smile. He guessed that Han Yoojin would definitely regret turning off his poison resistance once he sobered up, while at the same time unable to deny that the alcohol specially made for hunters was very good.
His partner had the potential to become an alcoholic, and he also loved sweets. How many more years would such an unhealthy lifestyle accompany him?
"I don't have that kind of charm that makes people popular," Han Yoojin said, filling his glass again.
"Does my partner truly believe that?"
"It's not about what I believe, it's objective fact. Where am I popular?"
Oblivious. This degree of obliviousness was one of the culprits behind Sung Hyunjae's long-term patience.
Didn't he notice how many people surrounded him?
Han Yoohyun wouldn't miss a single hug from his brother—his possessiveness was no less than Sung Hyunjae's; Bak Yerim always clung affectionately to her guardian, as if she were an infant who would die without attention; Noah's eyes lit up at Han Yoojin's praise, enjoying his head pats like a dog; Moon Hyuna always used joking as an excuse to put her arm around Han Yoojin, laughing heartily at his blushing face.
Even Song Taewon was the same. Even though he argued that Han Yoojin should keep his distance from S-rank hunters, when that petite F-rank tugged at his sleeve, begging him to agree to some dangerous action or to accept some troublesome gift, his attitude and expression would involuntarily soften.
This softening was so subtle that Song Taewon himself was probably unaware of it, but Sung Hyunjae had noticed.
"Anyone with normal taste would definitely prefer someone like you, right?" Han Yoojin was still trying to argue for his own ordinariness.
"So do you like me too, Yoojin-gun? Your taste is quite good, isn't it?"
"…Huh?"
"Do you like me?" Sung Hyunjae, sitting across the table, deliberately leaned closer to his F-rank. Their noses almost touched. "Yoojin?"
"I…"
Han Yoojin pressed his lips together. In the span of a lightning bolt, he tilted his head up and kissed Sung Hyunjae.
Later, he pushed the S-rank, who didn't resist at all, into the sofa, straddled the man's waist, and looked down at him like a smug cat: "This angle is new."
"Does my partner like what he sees?"
"How many times do I have to tell you," Han Yoojin frowned, "can you not say 'my'?"
"Why?"
"…I'm not yours, and you're not mine." Han Yoojin said sullenly.
He was very drunk. Sung Hyunjae certainly wouldn't miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: "Do you want me to become yours?"
"Mm… no."
"Then, what is our Yoojin-gun doing right now?"
"Right now…" Han Yoojin slapped away Sung Hyunjae's hand gripping his waist. He bent over, placed his hands on the sofa cushion, and stared directly at Sung Hyunjae's face:
"You really are a bastard."
"Oh, I'm flattered?"
"That wasn't a compliment! Ah, seriously, bastard."
Plop.
“…Yoojin-gun?”
Han Yoojin was crying. Tears wet Sung Hyunjae's skin and clothes. The one causing this didn't seem to notice his own loss of composure. His voice trembled strangely:
"Promise me one thing, Sung Hyunjae."
"Alright."
"I haven't even said what it is yet! You… you can't just abandon this mess and go into seclusion somewhere that takes over ten hours to fly to."
"Seclusion? I don't have any plans—"
"Let me finish! I understand, I understand that people change, that we have to move forward, ugh… don't become someone I don't know."
"Please."
That last word scraped across his heart like a fallen leaf in the wind. Sung Hyunjae's breath caught. In his entire life, he had never felt anything close to nervousness from physical contact, yet when Han Yoojin desperately pressed his lips against his, he couldn't so much as move a finger.
So then, it happened naturally. Sung Hyunjae propped himself up and watched as Han Yoojin eagerly undid his pants and, without a second thought, took the man's cock into his mouth. A few strands of black hair fell, soon sticking to his tear-soaked cheeks.
"Mm…" Han Yoojin's cheek bulged. "Uh… mm…" To be honest, this young man's oral sex was terrible, made even worse by his drunken stupor. His sharp teeth kept grazing the fully erect shaft.
But S-ranks wouldn't be hurt by teeth. Sung Hyunjae only felt the hot, soft oral mucosa tightly enveloping him, the wet surface of the tongue licking over his nerve endings again and again. He distractedly considered carefully. In the end, he dismissed the thought of pressing down on the back of Han Yoojin's head and thrusting down his throat. The F-rank would break.
"Mm…"
Han Yoojin couldn't take it all the way down. He tried several times, then pulled back, lifting his head slightly, his eyes unfocused, his crimson tongue flickering between his lips: "Too big, ugh. How… how does something like this usually fit in your pants?"
Sung Hyunjae couldn't help but laugh: "Don't force yourself."
It was a genuine, kind reminder, but Han Yoojin reacted as if he'd been challenged. He glared at Sung Hyunjae, his eyes wet and utterly unthreatening.
He lowered his head again.
"Mm ugh…"
That day, Han Yoojin shed many tears. He cried nonstop—whether choking on what was in his mouth, coughing from the semen, or when the skin of his thighs was rubbed raw and red by the cock thrusting between them, when he reached dry orgasm from two fingers pressed against his prostate—he was leaking fluids, from above and below. Sung Hyunjae found himself worrying that Han Yoojin might faint from dehydration.
The poor drunk couldn't take responsibility for his own recklessness. Sung Hyunjae, considerate, knew when to stop. He only used Han Yoojin's thighs.
Even though he longed to fuck straight inside, to go deep where he shouldn't, to push up from within until the lower belly bulged, to hear Han Yoojin scream, cry, pitifully beg for mercy, or collapse and kick and hit him, cursing him hoarsely as a bastard over and over until he could no longer make a sound.
In summary, Sung Hyunjae was still enduring.
He had ten thousand ways to imprison Han Yoojin, and ten thousand times he would suppress that urge. Han Yoojin needed a friendly, amiable partner, not a madman constantly trying to destroy him.
During the month they had grown distant due to the awkwardness (felt unilaterally by Han Yoojin), Sung Hyunjae still kept track of the F-rank's recent condition—through photos, through videos.
He had seen Han Yoojin from a distance once. Han Yoojin had been walking side by side with the young master and the young lady, his back exuding a soft, gentle happiness.
That night, Sung Hyunjae, who never dreamed, dreamed of a corpse. He woke calmly, clearly feeling a gale-force wind tearing through the hollow in his heart, slamming madly against his ribs.
S-ranks could easily withstand severe cold, yet he was so cold that his spine stiffened. The illusion of the smell of blood lingering in his nostrils refused to fade. Sung Hyunjae chuckled softly.
He was beginning to understand the weight of the word "loss."
He endured fear. A completely unfamiliar emotion.
Hours later, Sung Hyunjae still couldn't reconstruct his state of mind when he witnessed Han Yoojin disappear.
Within a thousandth of a second, he had detected the abnormal fluctuation of dungeon energy, recognized the trace of the system's intervention, and deduced the truth: that Han Yoojin had narrowly escaped danger and been promptly transferred by the system.
That wasn't the issue.
He remembered the blood on the surface of the rocky beach. Bright red. Warm. No—it was scalding. The fingers Sung Hyunjae had used to touch it ached.
The screams of dungeon monsters echoed one after another as Sung Hyunjae stepped over their mutilated corpses. The sound of Han Yoojin's surprised cough and gasp rang in his ears. Han Yoojin had turned his head to look at him just before being taken away. What had he wanted to say?
The lake was calm. A good place for a relaxing outing. Sung Hyunjae sat on a rock and gazed into the distance. He counted the number of mountain peaks beyond the lake. Then he looked down and saw blood seeping from his palms, his fingernails embedded deep into his flesh.
Han Yoojin.
What should I do?
"Didn't the system tell you? This is a matter of life and death. I almost died. You saw me spit up blood, didn't you?"
You almost died. Yes.
Sung Hyunjae's attention was fixed on Han Yoojin's face. He didn't want to miss the slightest movement of those black irises. The shapely lips were full of color, opening and closing. Sung Hyunjae wanted to use them to confirm the warm breath of this body.
He also wanted to snap the F-rank's neck, to witness with his own eyes the cessation of all his vital signs. Then he could sleep well every day, without having to doubt whether that fragile heartbeat was still continuing.
"…sorry for making you worry. I'm really sorry."
Ah.
Sorry.
Sung Hyunjae barely heard what Han Yoojin said next. He smiled a genuine smile. Relief was within reach.
━━━━━━━━━
"Slo… slow down… no…" Han Yoojin panted rapidly, unable to squeeze out a complete sentence from his throat. "Sung Hyunjae!"
"What's wrong?"
The light-haired man leaned in to kiss him, his slightly curved golden eyes like a pair of crescent moons. Most of Han Yoojin's body was suspended in mid-air. The jolting from the thrusts made him dizzy and lightheaded. Tears blurred his vision, leaving everything faint and shadowy.
The ferocious cock withdrew to the entrance of his hole, then plunged all the way in, fiercely scraping against his sensitive spot, relentlessly tormenting the already swollen and congested inner walls. The soft flesh had no strength to resist, so it could only desperately clench around the intruder in a pathetic attempt to end this ordeal sooner.
"Slow down…" Han Yoojin frantically pushed against Sung Hyunjae's shoulders. He couldn't control his legs. He was being fucked into a state of tears, his body in an utterly lewd position.
The pleasure wrung from his hole intermittently washed over his neural network, swiftly draining his remaining strength, turning all his resistance into harmless flirtation.
Aside from the weakness in his limbs, his abnormally distended lower abdomen felt as if it might burst at any moment. That thing was going to thrust into his stomach! Han Yoojin could even feel it in his throat.
It wasn't an exaggeration. A burning pain lingered in his throat. Semen had flowed through both his esophagus and intestines, pooling in his abdomen.
The excessive amount of semen was enough to swell his belly to the size of a half-formed fetus. The cock kept poking and pressing against the flesh. Han Yoojin instinctively reached down to protect his abdomen, as if protecting his own child.
Sung Hyunjae smiled with tender affection, while deliberately pressing down on the back of Han Yoojin's hand, making that area of flesh both cave in and bulge out. The pitiful cries fell upon his ears.
First of all, men couldn't get pregnant. Secondly, they already had a child. Sung Hyunjae didn't care much about that young existence, but he was Han Yoojin's child, so Sung Hyunjae was happy to watch him grow up healthy.
"Yoojin-ah," Sung Hyunjae wiped away the tears on the person in his arms. "Do you want another child?"
"…What?" Han Yoojin's reaction was slow. It took a few seconds for his eyes to widen. He couldn't catch his breath, his retorts coming out fragmented: "You… lunatic! I… stop… no! Ugh… too deep, it hurts!"
"Don't worry, you won't get hurt."
"I really… I really hurt! Sung Hyunjae!"
"I know." The golden eyes gazed at Han Yoojin with fascination, like a cat observing a mouse struggling in a trap with keen interest.
Bodily fluids splattered between thrusts. The insides of Han Yoojin's thighs were a complete mess. He couldn't grip the older man's waist anymore. He felt no different from a sex toy, mercilessly toyed with over and over, the overwhelming pleasure like electric shocks causing continuous tremors.
The pink bedsheet beneath him was wrinkled. An hour ago, Han Yoojin had been inwardly criticizing Sung Hyunjae's perverted hobby of decorating the entire room in pink.
When he first opened his eyes to a sea of pink, he nearly passed out again. Sung Hyunjae had cheerfully explained his clever design choices and stated that the report on the abnormal dungeon had been submitted. Han Yoojin barely suppressed the urge to give him the middle finger.
Now… any color would do. Han Yoojin wished he could burrow into the bedsheet, even the mattress, and never come out. He couldn't take it anymore. He would most likely become the first lucky person in history to be fucked to death by an S-rank hunter. Sung Hyunjae seemed determined to torment him. Even during their period of mutual wariness, this old man hadn't been this difficult to deal with.
"I can't… wait… ugh…"
"Want to change positions?" Sung Hyunjae asked considerately. "How about you take over?"
With that, he wrapped his arms around Han Yoojin's waist and back. Without much effort, he lifted the young man while sitting up. Due to gravity, the cock pushed into uncharted, deeper territory. Han Yoojin went silent, his hole clamping down in a spasm, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Sung Hyunjae tightened his grip around Han Yoojin's waist to suppress the urge to ejaculate. He noticed that the pitiful F-rank had orgasmed again, yet nothing had come out.
"What the hell…" Han Yoojin's eyes were rimmed red. He choked on his words, slurring, "What the… what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I'm just doing what my partner agreed to let me do."
This was true. The generous and open-hearted Han Yoojin was willing to offer himself to appease the S-rank's discontent. Sung Hyunjae wondered who else he would ever adopt such an attitude toward.
One hand lifted with difficulty. To Sung Hyunjae's surprise, instead of slapping him hard across the face, it moved up along the side of his neck, slowly stroking his cheek and hair, like a mother doting on her child.
Sung Hyunjae wanted to snap that hand off, to put it in a container he had prepared long ago, so that it could never leave him again.
"You're angry." Seizing the pause in the lovemaking, Han Yoojin caught his breath, his tone certain.
"Why is my partner so obsessed with proving that I'm angry? If I am, what will you do?"
"…"
Han Yoojin was silent for a moment. He sat on Sung Hyunjae's lap, looking down at him. Tears hung from his jet-black lashes. His face was pale, yet flushed with an unnatural red.
"Should I take you to the bathroom… Han Yoojin."
The name that slipped out was ice-cold, cutting his vaguely numb tongue. Sung Hyunjae withdrew his smile, watching as Han Yoojin removed the choker from his neck and tossed it toward the headboard. A blue light flickered briefly.
"Do whatever you want to me."
Han Yoojin's glistening black eyes revealed a kind of cruel tolerance. His entire face was a mess, yet his expression was unexpectedly calm. "There's healing potion anyway. It's fine if you hurt me."
"Han Yoojin." Sung Hyunjae's voice was low and hoarse in warning. Bitterness filled his mouth.
"Don't glare at me like that," Han Yoojin sniffled, his expression somewhere between a smile and not. "You bastard S-rank."
One second stretched as long as a century. Sung Hyunjae's throat went dry. He held out for five seconds with all his might, then surrendered willingly. He buried his head in the crook of Han Yoojin's neck, his lips twisting painfully.
"This isn't fair."
"What's not fair?"
"My partner knows full well I won't hurt him, yet he gives me the right to hurt him."
"If both parties are willing, it's not harm. If you had raped me when I was drunk last time, that would have been harm. Today, at worst there'll be some bleeding wounds. Well… I've heard some people play like that anyway…"
Han Yoojin's blush spread from his face to his neck, delayed. He patted Sung Hyunjae's hair.
"Do whatever you want! Are you going to fuck me or not? It's too big. If not, pull it out quickly. My stomach is full of your… what are you laughing at?"
The vibration traveled from his shoulder and neck down to his chest. Han Yoojin found it baffling.
There was something strange in Sung Hyunjae's laughter-filled voice. His words were the last thing Han Yoojin remembered from that day:
"You know what, Yoojin-ah?"
"You're really terrifying."