⚠ Content note for this chapter: explicit sexual content.
Mok-young closed his eyes. He felt Hae-gang’s hand on his cheek caressing his skin more clearly, and then a presence drawing near, and their lips met.
The sensation of lips pressed soft and slow grew quickly into something slick and hot, tangled. Seizing the moment Mok-young’s lips parted, Hae-gang pushed in, and as the two wet tongues intertwined, Mok-young naturally raised his hands to wrap them around Hae-gang’s back, clutching his robes tight. Hae-gang’s hands had slid down to wrap Mok-young’s waist, and as the kiss deepened he leaned more and more into Mok-young until Mok-young’s body tilted slightly backward. It was a narrow difference, but Hae-gang was the taller, which made this great general look so.
And step by step they returned to the bed, and when Mok-young’s legs caught on the edge of the bed and he nearly toppled backward, Hae-gang put strength into the arms holding him to keep him upright. The arm around his waist swiftly moved to his back while the other hand braced against the bed, so that the heavy general’s body would not crash straight down onto it.
“They say those who cultivate the Juyang Divine Art are stronger than they look… it was true.” At Mok-young’s words, breathed out as if in admiration, a soft laugh escaped Hae-gang’s lips this time.
“This is no time to mind such things, my wife. Give yourself to me entirely.” Hae-gang eased Mok-young down to lie comfortably on the bed, then naturally rose over him as though casting a shadow, and pressed their lips together once more.
It had been ten days since the wedding, and three more besides, before the two of them could finally begin their wedding night.
*
The world turned upside down in an instant. As the two men’s lips met and their skin touched, the world they had known until now cracked, and the crack soon became a rupture. Then, beneath the oncoming wave of hot, blissful pleasure, the wreckage of that rupture melted helplessly away.
With his jeogori loosened open and his lower garments fled somewhere, leaving him bare below, Mok-young covered his eyes with his arm in embarrassment. His chest was already thickly covered with the red marks Hae-gang had left. At first it had been so strange to have a man kiss his chest and leave love bites that he had clutched Hae-gang’s hair, not knowing what to do — but panting like that had soon drained him until he could do nothing at all. He had worried for Hae-gang’s life, yet found himself grimly amused that his own strength seemed to be failing faster.
But unlike his mind, his body was gladly accepting those sensations. Proof: between Mok-young’s buttocks it had long since begun to grow wet, and even now, as Hae-gang’s long finger invaded him, he swallowed it without difficulty.
As the hot, fireball-like finger parted his most tender inner flesh and pushed in, Mok-young felt an unnameable tingle spread chillingly up his spine. He instinctively tried to close his legs, but Hae-gang’s other hand gripped his inner thigh firmly and he could not easily do so. He almost wanted to resent himself for admiring Hae-gang as stronger than he looked. Unable to close his legs, his hips jerked, and then the finger buried inside him seemed to poke at even more unforgivable places, leaving Mok-young at an utter loss. All he could do was clench his teeth and hold back the moans threatening to burst out.
He knew this was pleasure, but he had never dreamed he would feel pleasure in this way, and Mok-young had no chance to gather his wits. This — this body was nothing like the one he had known. When his yin energy ran strong and the heat cycle came, his rear would grow wet and he would feel a maddening thirst, but this was different from that. That had been only “thirst”; he had never truly joined with a yangin man, so he had no idea what joy real contact could bring. That it would be this aching, desperate sensation…
“Why are you so desperate to hide a face too fine to hide?”
Hae-gang, his face nearly buried in Mok-young’s belly, biting and sucking at his skin while pushing his finger deeper inside, tracing each fold of the inner walls as if savoring them, suddenly raised his head. Only then did he notice Mok-young had covered his face with his arm and turned his head aside; lifting the hand that had held his thigh, he took Mok-young’s wrist and spoke.
Hae-gang tried to pull Mok-young’s arm down, and Mok-young resisted. He tossed his head to the other side, but stubbornly refused to lower his arm. What else could Hae-gang do? He decided he would see that face even if he had to tease the finger buried inside Mok-young more wickedly, and with the wrist still firmly gripped, put more strength into the hand stirring him below.
“Ngh! Th-that, haa… stop! There…! Hngh! Hah!”
The tip of Hae-gang’s finger pressed firmly somewhere. It was a spot it had brushed several times before. It stroked the inner walls softly, then tapped — tap, tap — and the spot, slightly swollen now, seemed to be what people called the “peak.” A man too — even a man who was not an eumin — could feel pleasure through his rear if stimulated, they said. That very spot.
This too was a place Mok-young had never stimulated, so when Hae-gang began to press down in earnest with his fingertip, Mok-young’s hips clenched tight on their own and soon he was trembling. A spot where even an ordinary man could feel pleasure — now that he was an eumin being stimulated there, it was enough to drive Mok-young mad. Feeling his body cease to be his own, he couldn’t even think of closing his thighs. His hips clenched as if to spit the finger out, the inner walls gripping hard, while his legs spread wider still. And it was impossible to tell whether the gripping was truly meant to push the finger out or to chew it up and savor it.
“No! No… hngh! Th-that! Haa, stop! Th-there, no…! Ngh! Kh—”
“No” kept threatening to burst from Mok-young’s lips, but even that was not easy. If he opened his mouth carelessly, he feared he would cry out in a strange moan that would startle even himself, so Mok-young clenched his teeth and bore it down.
Fluid began to stream from Mok-young’s lower body. Pre-fluid leaked from the tip of his stiffly erect cock, and from the rear hole Hae-gang was stirring, slick fluid spread as if paving a road, making a shamelessly lewd sound. As Hae-gang’s touch grew faster and stronger, wet, squelching noises spread to torment Mok-young’s ears. He didn’t want to believe such sounds came from his own rear hole, but he had to believe it — he was already swallowing three fingers, his inner walls scraped and his peak stimulated, feeling pleasure so thick his body jerked.
“Damn it… why is it like this… haa, why so… stubborn.” In the moment Hae-gang’s touch finally slowed a little, Mok-young let his arm slide down at last. His fully heated body had not yet reached its peak, and a hazy discomfort lingered below his belly. Thinking he might as well be scraped harder, Mok-young realized resistance was pointless and let his arm go limp, surrendering to Hae-gang’s touch. His head turned toward Hae-gang, their eyes met, and he tossed out at least one reproachful word.
A smile spread across Hae-gang’s lips. At this moment — no, because of this moment — his wife’s face shone ever more beautifully, bewitching his eyes, and Mok-young narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, but it didn’t even count as defiance. There he was, legs spread wide, his rear hole holding Hae-gang’s thing — a finger, but still his — with his wrist held fast. No words, no discomfort could be resistance. He simply didn’t know what to do with himself, awkward and unfamiliar with this feeling of being helplessly swept along.
“It’s only because your face is so beautiful.”
Still, Hae-gang’s words left him dumbfounded. He had known the man was unpredictable, but could anyone be this shameless? Yet the answer had flowed so naturally it could only be sincere, and Mok-young was even more at a loss for how to reply.
*Damn it, better to have his rear hole poked instead.* Thinking that, he turned his head away — and Hae-gang, as if reading his mind, put strength back into the finger that had slowed.
Even clenching his teeth, Mok-young couldn’t stop the hot breath leaking out. As the touch below began to stir fiercely again, his strength tensed, his back arched until his chest lifted slightly, and his head turned further aside. His thighs felt as if turning to stone, yet they naturally draped over Hae-gang’s legs as though wrapping around him.
“You don’t have to hold back, Mok-young.”
Still holding Mok-young’s wrist pinned to the bed with one hand, Hae-gang bent close and murmured in his ear. *Mok-young.* At the name — the first time it had come from his lips — Mok-young turned his head to look at him. *This man wasn’t only shameless; he was cunning too.* Mok-young thought it with a groundless reproach, for Hae-gang had seized his gaze in this moment with that single call. It meant he was that shaken by hearing his name from Hae-gang’s mouth.
Having said he needn’t hold back, Hae-gang suddenly lowered his head and pressed his lips to Mok-young’s. Contrary to his own words, Hae-gang tangled their tongues recklessly as if sealing Mok-young’s mouth shut, and put still more strength into the hand stirring him below.
“Mmph! Nngh! Hau…!”
No matter how sealed, sounds slipped helplessly through the gaps. As Hae-gang kept invading deep into his mouth, wrapping and sucking his tongue to the root, Mok-young was busy swallowing the saliva that flowed over, and breathing was far harder than before — he couldn’t bear it without gasping for air. And when Hae-gang raised his head to press their lips together even more insistently, as if to swallow even those breaths, Mok-young felt he would go mad.
His body was slowly heading toward climax. Yielding his rear to the man’s touch and his lips to the man’s lips, Mok-young’s body trembled with pleasure, his cock twitching as if it would spill its seed at any moment without even being touched.
It was beyond anything Mok-young had imagined. His prediction — that it would become irreversible — had been right, but he had never been able to gauge the size of that fear, and in this moment it became clear that it had never been within the range of what he could imagine.
“Haaahk…! Th-that, hmph! Th-that, haa, stop! I, haa, I think I’m going to…! Stop, Hae-gang! H-huuuhk! Stop!”
Mok-young too called Hae-gang’s name for the first time, though he didn’t even realize it. But it rang clearly in Hae-gang’s ears; was that enough for him? Hae-gang’s eyes gleamed with still more desire as he put strength into the hand stirring Mok-young’s insides, then moved his face down to bury his lips in Mok-young’s chest. To be precise, he took the nipple — already standing hard and sensitive — into his mouth, biting with his teeth and sucking hard. Lewd sounds — *chup, churl, chup* — rang even from his chest; Mok-young shook his head, but pleasure and climax were already rolling over him like an irresistible wave, and at last, under the touch ransacking his rear, he climaxed and spilled his seed.
And it was from there that Mok-young’s world truly began to crumble. For Hae-gang, it had been only fingers. The true joining had not even happened yet.
Hae-gang gave Mok-young no time to catch his breath. Mok-young’s rear hole was fully sensitized and aching to swallow something — the perfect moment to push in. Mok-young himself was, of course, startled out of his wits.
Where the fingers had withdrawn, the thick, hard tip of Hae-gang’s cock touched down. From the contact alone Mok-young sensed how brutish it was, and raised his head with no time to loll in the afterglow. The heavy, pressing rub — as if it would enter at any moment — made his thigh muscles twitch. *If that went in… there’d be nothing left of my insides,* he thought — but he could no longer refuse.
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