My Bloody Valentine - 112

Chapter 112 

“……!” 

Taeshin had said something like this to him before. When was it? It was when he doubted his relationship with Woo-sin. At a time when he wondered who would look at someone like himself, Taeshin had spoken. It was the first time he had ever whispered such an intimate phrase to anyone.

“Really. Crazy beautiful.” “Haaah…….” Sexual excitement comes not only from physical stimulation but also from mental stimulation. Like a button being pressed by his intimate words, something began to bubble and rise.

“Ah……!” Han grabbed Taeshin’s shoulder tightly. Like a beast, Taeshin shook his body, driving Han to the limit.

Tears flowed down Han’s temples. With an almost maddening orgasm, Han trembled his chin, moving his waist as if chasing his own pleasure.

Soon his convulsing body was immersed in the rising pleasure. It was a pleasure like death. After ejaculating on Taeshin’s chest and abdomen with a final trembling of his body, he collapsed as if the power had been switched off.

Taeshin, unconscious, continued to thrust his hips while holding Han’s limp body with both arms.

Han’s deepening body odor made his vision hazy. He inhaled Han’s scent deep into his lungs. It was as if his dry inner self was being moistened by Han.

“Han… Lee Han…….” Taeshin, pushing part of his body into Han’s unconsciously, called his name again and again.

“I missed you.” There was no sense of reality. Everything seemed like a dream. After circling for a long time, he had finally reclaimed what was already in his hands. Something he had desperately wished for and hoped for……

“……Brother.” With a sensation like a taut string breaking, Taeshin ejaculated deep inside Han.

Still seeming unsatisfied, Taeshin lifted Han’s body. And started moving again. To reach deeper inside Han.

“Damn…….” Taeshin muttered self-deprecatingly, pulling back his waist. At some point, Han had lost consciousness and lay collapsed on the bed. His small hips exposed a reddened, congested p3nis.

The sensation of the large rod that had filled his stomach sliding out made Han shiver even in his sleep.

Taeshin brought a towel, placed it under Han’s hips, and gently pressed Han’s swollen perineum with his thumb, touching the coarse pubic hair. Thick semen gushed endlessly from the deep red opening.

Taeshin clicked his tongue. His expression was dissatisfied, as if lamenting a cruel act committed by someone else.

Han did not move until Taeshin wiped his body with a wet towel. When he was cleaning the semen splattered on his stomach, chest, and neck, and lifting one leg.

“Please…… please don’t…….” “I’m just cleaning you. I won’t do more.” Taeshin’s hand became more careful while cleaning Han’s lower body. The long intercourse seemed to have been extremely harsh.

Inside Taeshin, a sense of mission to protect Han coexisted with destructive sexual desire. Though precariously balanced, at some point the handle had tilted, and from midway through their encounter, sexual desire took control.

Taeshin, feeling pangs of conscience, carefully wiped Han’s body and dressed him. Just as he was buttoning the pajama top, Han murmured with a painful expression:

“Don’t kill me…….”

At that moment, a deep furrow formed between Taeshin’s eyebrows. Han seemed to be dreaming, and unfortunately, it was a realm Taeshin could not reach.

The fact that he wanted to know exactly what dream he was having showed how destructive his obsession was. He wanted to wake him, grab his collar, and ask who the person was that he was protecting in his dream.

This was almost a mental illness. Of course, Han would never know about this condition.

Taeshin suppressed the suddenly rising destructive impulse, carefully covered Han with the blanket up to his neck, and went outside. After a light shower to wash away his sweat, he sat in the desk chair in the living room.

He took a cigarette from the drawer, placed it between his lips, and lit it. With a sizzling sound, the cigarette’s end turned bright red.

He turned the leaning chair and looked out the window.

The Han River was buried in a pitch-black night, and the long line of streetlights contrasted with the darkness, glowing orange.

Taeshin deeply inhaled the cigarette until his cheeks were sunken. The thick smoke that had entered his lungs created a hazy fog before his eyes.

With the smoke, a belated question arose. Who not to kill?

The one who had definitely troubled Han in his dream was himself. There were not just one or two people he had threatened to kill, and Han was among them.

Suddenly, he remembered a conversation he had while drinking an unpalatable tea someone had gifted in President Bae’s study. President Bae had enjoyed calling him and making him sit down to ramble about various things.

“Taeshin. There’s something called karma.” When he visited to check on the president, who was sick and might die at any moment, President Bae spoke with a somewhat relieved face.

“Karma?” “Me. I did many wrong things in my youth. Until I met my wife, I was just a gangster, not a businessman.” “…….” “Karma. That’s your greatest enemy.”

Facing Taeshin, who showed complete incomprehension, President Bae wanted to pass on the wisdom he had learned through personal experience.

‘It appears in movies too. A protagonist who cuts out his own tongue in apology for a careless word spoken in childhood.’ ‘…….’ ‘When you get older, you’ll realize. What can hurt you is not some gangster, but your past mistakes.’ Only now could he understand his words.

If he had to cut out his tongue for a single mistake, he would have nothing to say even if his limbs were dismembered.

His words and actions that had driven Han to the edge were vividly etched in his memory.

Times stained with Han’s tears and screams. Times when he had crushed, torn, and pierced Han’s small body, ultimately making Han hold a knife to his own wrist.

Though seemingly indifferent, Han’s inner self surely had wounds that were torn and split. Even when wounds heal, scars remain, and scars will remind of that pain until death. Just like the scars on his own body.

Taeshin’s thoughts were interrupted by a phone ringing from somewhere in the living room. Taeshin rose and found the source.

Han’s phone lay on the carpet near the closet where Han had been hiding. Bending down, Taeshin picked it up and lightly pressed the screen. Han’s phone didn’t even have a common password.

“So unguarded.”

Taeshin let out a slight chuckle, his gaze falling on the screen. A long message notification was displayed.

The name ‘Shin So-young (Mom)’ revealed Han’s dilemma when saving this contact.

[Shin So-young (Mom): I’ve unpacked everything in the new house and am catching my breath. The view from the terrace. How is it? Are you feeling like coming back? Just kidding.]

A photo accompanied the message. Dense forest was visible beyond the glass railing, with LA city buildings in the distance.

[Shin So-young (Mom): I’m curious if you met that person you wanted to be with. Will you be together? I hope he’s a warm, gentle person who treats Han preciously. Someone right and good.

Even if you can’t be together, I hope you don’t feel too heartbroken. Han, you now have a mom.

Han must be happy. So if you’re not happy where you are now, come back anytime. I’m already overwhelmed and happy thinking I’ll make you several times happier for the time we were apart.]

The message ended there.

‘A warm person who treats Han preciously, someone right and good’.

He had been such a person once. But no longer, and now he could never become that person again. Childhood memories existed, but that was all. For Taeshin, it was as distant as a memory from a previous life.

He was already completely broken inside and out, with the long scar on his head proving it.

Recalling his pure childhood now was useless. The bridge back had been broken the moment he committed his first murder. Living in hell was utterly natural for him.

But Han is different. Han, who had to endure hell because of him, now deserved happiness. And by any means, he could not be the person to be by Han’s side.

The pure white canvas was beautiful, but the ink spill should end here.

A bitter smile formed on Taeshin’s lips. The hand holding the phone dropped weakly.

❖ ❖ ❖

When Han opened his eyes, he was alone on the bed. Blackout curtains were drawn, but through the gap, the window outside was still dark.

The encounter had ended shorter than usual. Because of Taeshin’s excessive sexual desire, he typically only let go after seeing dawn break.

Perhaps because of this, his body felt lighter. But not without discomfort. Something still seemed present between his hips, and his joints felt like they were creaking as if misaligned.

These vivid sensations recalled last night’s intimate moment. The first time they truly looked at each other and became one.

Han’s face flushed as he remembered. He suddenly realized how much Taeshin had grown up. In an incredibly embarrassing way.

Han carefully rose and went to the living room. He saw Taeshin’s back sitting in the desk chair. Thinking they had first shared their hearts, Han felt something bubble-like rising somewhere in his chest.

“Why are you up. Go back to sleep.”

Taeshin spoke as if he knew without looking. Han now saw his reflection on the cleanly wiped window.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

Han approached and touched Taeshin’s shoulder.

“…….”

After a moment of silence, Taeshin grabbed Han’s hand on his shoulder and quietly removed it. Rising from his seat, he said:

“I’ll get you a plane ticket. Go to America.”

“……!”

Thud.

Han punched Taeshin’s chest with all his might, as if he were hitting a wall. Only his own hand felt numb from the strike.

“Are you enjoying this?”

“…….”

It was exactly the same situation as a month ago. The day after spending a passionate night, when he had handed him an envelope under the pretext of settlement support and told him to leave.

“Are you enjoying this?”

“…….”

Han’s voice sharply extended. Taeshin grabbed Han’s wrist as he was about to swing another punch, quietly looking down at him. Then he exhaled in a painful voice:

“I’m not that guy anymore.”