One Day, A Gangster… Chapter 11.1

Thick tears plopped down from Wooyoon’s eyes as he stared at his handcuffed wrists in the local police station. He resented the officers who hadn’t cuffed the drunkards causing a ruckus, yet had restrained him, an Omega, for simply being one.

He raised both arms and roughly wiped his tear-streaked face. The cuffs clicked with each movement.

Wooyoon tried to steel his resolve, telling himself to endure until Pilsung arrived. Then, at least, he would have someone to listen to him. But even now, with the call long over and the world outside the station’s glass doors shrouded in darkness, Pilsung was nowhere to be seen.

“Why… aren’t you… here…?”

Wooyoon bit his trembling lip, fighting back the tears. What if Pilsung wasn’t coming? What if he had abandoned him? What if he’d run away like his brother? Maybe the incident with the thug… never even happened. Maybe it was all a pathetic fantasy born from his desperate desire for even a single person to love him.

“Just wait a little longer and you’ll be transferred to the main station as we discussed,” the officer who had brought him in said, sipping his instant coffee. Wooyoon, lost in thought, looked up.

“What… what will happen to me…?”

Glancing at Wooyoon’s teary eyes, the officer put a hand on his hip and muttered, “If you reach a settlement with the victim, it won’t go to trial. But the victim is pressing charges, and you assaulted a Beta while unregistered, so it’ll be difficult to avoid punishment. Based on your statement, you’ll be transferred to the relevant department, and…”

The officer trailed off as his colleague at the desk suddenly stood up. Following his gaze, Wooyoon’s officer turned to the station entrance.

Men in dark suits, as if imbued with the darkness outside, entered the station, their presence unsettling. The officer instinctively gripped his taser, recognizing at a glance that they were all Alphas.

“What… can I do for you?” he asked stiffly. Wooyoon, tears welling in his eyes, pushed himself off the chair and ran forward.

“Pilsung…!!”

Tears finally streamed down his cheeks, tears of profound relief. He threw himself into the arms of Pilsung, who stood at the head of the group, burying his face in his broad chest and inhaling the familiar scent.

It’s real. He’s here. My only ally.

Wooyoon choked out a sob, “I… I hit someone… He… he was forcing himself on me…”

“It’s alright now. You did well.”

There was no need to rehash the story and humiliate Wooyoon further. Pilsung cut him off, wrapping a strong arm around his trembling body and stroking his back. He patted Wooyoon’s back reassuringly, as if to say he was safe now. The tension drained from Wooyoon’s body and he swayed, nearly collapsing. Gidong, standing beside Pilsung, quickly steadied him.

Entrusting Wooyoon to Gidong, Pilsung raised a hand to his brow in a casual salute, then addressed the officer still pointing the taser at them in a disrespectful tone.

“Well, well, officer. Hard at work, I see.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“What? Fuck’s sake? Are you crazy?”

The officer stepped towards the cursing Pilsung. Pilsung lifted Wooyoon’s cuffed arm and said, “What’s the deal with the handcuffs?”

“It’s protocol to restrain a designated individual who assaults a Beta—”

“Fuck protocol. He’s not some rabid Alpha. What kind of bullshit protocol is it to cuff an Omega’s wrists for hours? Especially one who used self-defense spray on some creep!”

“Listen here, you think you’re the police? Obstructing justice—”

Just as the officer aimed the taser at Pilsung’s leg, his colleague, who had been on the phone, cleared his throat. He lowered his voice and hissed, “Officer Han! Let him go! Let him go!”

“What?”

“The Chief called. He said to let him go.”

“Let a suspect go before he’s even processed? Is that even possible?” Officer Han looked back and forth between Pilsung and his colleague, refusing to lower his taser.

“The Chief’s orders… Come here.”

Officer Han eyed his colleague suspiciously but followed him to the desk, finally lowering his weapon. Wooyoon hid behind Pilsung, avoiding the curious stares of the other officers.

He overheard Pilsung’s name and the word “office” mentioned several times. Soon after, Officer Han, his taser back in its holster, sighed and beckoned Wooyoon over. Pilsung gave him a gentle nudge, a silent reassurance.

The officer inserted the key into the small lock on the handcuffs, and they clicked open. Rubbing the red marks on his wrists, Wooyoon returned to Pilsung and grasped his large, rough hand.

Pilsung glanced down at Wooyoon clinging to his hand and winced. He must have been terrified. It made sense. Unlike them, who frequented police stations like it was a diner, this would likely be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for Wooyoon, made worse by being handcuffed.

I should have gotten here sooner.

Pilsung clicked his tongue as they left the station. The conversation with the Chief had taken longer than expected. He cursed under his breath, remembering the Chief’s stubborn refusal to erase Wooyoon’s record, opting for an internal investigation closure instead despite Pilsung’s tempting offers.

“Ah…!”

Wooyoon, who had been walking towards the car holding Pilsung’s hand, suddenly stopped, letting out a small gasp. Pilsung and the rest of his crew stopped in their tracks like dominoes.

“What is it? Are you okay? Are you tired?”

Wooyoon shook his head, blinking his still-teary eyes. He stammered, “Um… tofu… don’t we need tofu?”

“What?”

“I… shouldn’t I eat tofu?”

“…Ah.”

Upon receiving Wooyoon’s call, Pilsung had rushed to the main station to negotiate with the Chief. Preoccupied with making a deal, he’d completely forgotten about the tofu. Besides, who even bothered with that cheesy stuff anymore?

Unable to resist Wooyoon’s expectant look, Pilsung drawled, “Tofu, huh…,” and looked at Gidong. His unspoken question—did you prepare any?—was relayed through a series of glances down the line of men. The crew started looking around for tofu they had never purchased.

Seeing his men’s confused scrambling, Pilsung pulled Wooyoon along. “Come on. I’ll buy you tofu stew. This area’s full of 24-hour tofu places.”

“Okay.”

Pilsung had been worried about disappointing Wooyoon, so he was relieved by his easy agreement. He clutched Wooyoon’s hand, feeling a momentary pang of anxiety subside.

And so, in the middle of the night, Baek Pilsung’s crew ended up having a “business meeting” at a tofu stew restaurant. Pots overflowing with mushrooms and tofu were placed on their joined tables, and the sound of soju bottles being opened filled the air even before the spicy stew began to boil. Pilsung sat facing Wooyoon, away from the boisterous group, and opened a wet wipe.

“Tilt your head.”

Pilsung sighed inwardly as Wooyoon obediently presented his face. The swelling around his eyes made him look even more doe-eyed than usual, and it tugged at Pilsung’s heartstrings. He carefully wiped away the dried tears and grime.

“Eat this, and then come to my place. You’re living with me from now on.”

“Okay…”

“Damn it! I should’ve gotten you out of that shithole sooner!”

Pilsung grumbled as he meticulously cleaned Wooyoon’s face, even under his nose, then tossed the wipe aside. He adjusted the flame under the stew pot and stirred it with a ladle.

“Baek Pilsung…”

“Yeah.”

Pilsung’s attention was focused on the slow-boiling stew. Wooyoon chewed on his lower lip. Now that his panic had subsided, curiosity about Pilsung gnawed at him.

How had Pilsung known what had happened? He hadn’t even mentioned using the pepper spray on his landlord during their tearful phone call. He was curious, but also slightly embarrassed to ask.

Hesitantly, Wooyoon spoke, “How… did you know about what happened today?”

His cautious question was met with a nonchalant reply. “I stopped by the station where you were supposed to be transferred. Asked a detective I know to show me your statement.”

“You know a detective? Can gangsters just… walk into police stations like that?”

He’d been trembling all the way to the restaurant, but now, seemingly more comfortable, his questions were endless. Pilsung set down the ladle and stared at Wooyoon.

“You think a gangster wouldn’t have connections with the local cops?”

“Connections… Did you… give them money? To get me out? They do that in movies…”

The image of gangsters bribing or entertaining corrupt police officers was a common trope in Korean films. The thought that Pilsung had done that for him made Wooyoon feel guilty. Would he feel less guilty if he’d listened to Pilsung yesterday, if he’d realized his feelings sooner and confessed? Wooyoon hung his head, fiddling with his fingers under the table.

Pilsung, watching his dejected posture, poured soju into a stainless steel cup. He downed the drink in one gulp and replied, “I tried to bribe them, but they wouldn’t take it. So I’m doing some cleaning for them instead.”

“…Cleaning?”

“Yeah. I do it for them sometimes. Don’t worry, it’s no big deal. It’s not like I’m doing anything special for you.”

Pilsung swished the remaining alcohol in his mouth like mouthwash and swallowed. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. Wooyoon watched him light one and mumbled, “Then I’ll help too.”

Pilsung glanced at him, cigarette dangling from his lips. Wooyoon spoke earnestly, “I’m good at cleaning.”

“Pwahaha!”

Pilsung’s burst of laughter drew glances from his men. They watched their boss’s amusement with envy before returning to their meal.

“What kind of cleaning can you even do, for fuck’s sake?” Pilsung muttered to himself, chuckling. Then he burst out laughing again. With each laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbed above his partially unbuttoned shirt.

He’d been seething, ready to track down the perverted old man who’d assaulted Wooyoon and tear him apart. But Wooyoon’s earnest offer had somehow cooled his rage. After laughing until his eyes watered, he filled Wooyoon’s bowl with the bubbling stew.

“Cute little thing. Eat up.”

Wooyoon looked down at the stew, then cleared his throat. He didn’t feel offended by Pilsung’s dismissive tone. Instead of glaring as he might have before, he looked at Pilsung, who was smoking and pouring him water, and asked hesitantly, “After we eat… we’re going to your place?”

“That’s the plan. Don’t like it? Too bad. You’re coming.”

Pilsung smirked, answering his own question. Wooyoon poked at the soft tofu with his spoon and said softly, “I need to stop by…”

“No, you’re not!”

His voice was drowned out by the noise from Pilsung’s men. Wooyoon spoke louder, “I have things to get! I need to go back!”

“What the hell could you possibly need from that dump?”

“…”

“What is it? I’ll send the guys to get it. You’re not going back there.”

Pilsung stubbed out his barely smoked cigarette, propped his chin on his hand, and looked expectantly at Wooyoon. Tell me what you need. But Wooyoon remained stubbornly silent, pouting.

Pilsung held out his hand. “Hand.”

Wooyoon silently placed his hand in Pilsung’s. Pilsung kneaded the small hand, easily enveloped in his own, and said, “I’m sorry I let you go yesterday.”

Wooyoon finally looked up at Pilsung.

“I should’ve stopped you, even if you wanted to go. I’m sorry.”

“…”

“I’ll take good care of you from now on. This kind of shit won’t happen again.”

He tightened his grip on Wooyoon’s hand.

“We’ll register your designation tomorrow. I’ll be your guarantor.”

“…”

“And for fuck’s sake, go to the hospital if you’re hurt. Go wherever you want, without fear. And…”

“Pilsung.”

Wooyoon softly called Pilsung’s name, gazing into his fierce eyes. The eyes that had once seemed so sharp and intimidating now felt warmer and more reassuring than anyone else’s. He squeezed Pilsung’s hand, holding on tighter. The warm gaze wavered slightly, surprised.

Wooyoon finally voiced the words he’d meant to say with the gift.

“I like you too. I’ve come to like you…sniff…”

Tears fell onto the face Pilsung had carefully cleaned. Gratitude, guilt, and a multitude of other emotions welled up, including relief at having survived a world he’d thought he was alone in. There was also self-pity and regret for his foolish and pathetic past. His feelings for Pilsung were too complex to be described simply as “like.” It was a feeling that went far beyond a simple confession.

“Sniff…”

“Nam Wooyoon…”

Pilsung, his face flushed, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sobbing Wooyoon. The small, fragile creature had finally let him in, seeking comfort and protection in his arms. He had been granted responsibility.

Now, he could cherish him to his heart’s content.

Struggling to contain his smile, Pilsung’s narrowed eyes remained fixed on Wooyoon, who was crying because he liked him. It felt like a dream that would vanish if he looked away. He kept a firm hold of Wooyoon’s hand.

As soon as Wooyoon entered the sparsely furnished basement room, he grabbed the shopping bag from the top of the dresser. A smile touched his lips after confirming the gift-wrapped contents.

Pilsung glanced at Wooyoon clutching the bag, then picked up the Nike bag lying on the floor. He clenched his jaw as he gathered the scattered belongings, the urgency of the earlier situation replaying in his mind. A surge of anger coursed through him. He wanted to trash the place and storm the hospital where the perverted landlord lay, but the sight of the safety pin holding the bag strap together calmed him slightly. If he caused a scene and got arrested, who would take care of Wooyoon?

“Leave this.”

“No! Why?”

Wooyoon snatched the bag dangling from Pilsung’s hand. “It’s mine. I’m taking it…”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

Wooyoon stared at Pilsung with his wide, innocent eyes.

“Fine, fine. Just take one set of clothes to sleep in tonight. We’ll buy new ones tomorrow.”

Wooyoon nodded and started rummaging through the dresser. Pilsung watched him agonizing over a few t-shirts, all equally shabby, and reached into his jacket pocket with a bemused expression.

He pulled out his phone and checked the picture of Heejae Nam, sent from Incheon. After days of captivity, Heejae was now wearing decent clothes and obediently eating the food Pilsung’s men were feeding him. Pilsung had ordered them to fatten Heejae up a bit, figuring it would play on Wooyoon’s sympathy.

He deleted the picture and checked the message from Gidong, still at the restaurant.

<Boss! Can we go for grilled meat now?!>

Leaning against the wardrobe, he typed a reply.

<Yeah, feed the guys well. No trouble.>

This would probably be their last group meal before the “cleaning” the Chief had requested. In exchange for handling Wooyoon’s case, Pilsung had agreed to take care of a rising gang that had been causing trouble. These days, most gangs avoided large-scale brawls and jail time, adapting to the times by focusing on drug dealing, gambling, crypto, and stocks.

However, some slipped through the cracks of the law. For the police, it was easier to have these guys taken care of by other gangsters. It was a win-win for them: a nuisance eliminated and a chance for promotion. Even if things went south, they could cover up their involvement and simply arrest everyone involved, claiming it was a gang fight.

“For fuck’s sake, of all the shirts…”

Pilsung pulled Wooyoon up by the scruff of his neck as he carefully selected a Yongpyong Strawberry Farm t-shirt. Dragged out with only his underwear and the chosen shirt, Wooyoon pouted before breaking into a grin. He was ticklish from the way Pilsung’s hand rubbed the back of his neck where he’d grabbed him. Pilsung brushed his finger against Wooyoon’s nose, watching him smile.

Cute little thing. Pretty little thing. Nam Wooyoon.

Pilsung’s apartment, located in a four-story building near his office, was surprisingly ordinary. The only unusual thing was that all the tenants—two or three per floor—were members of Baek Pilsung’s crew. Some apartments housed as many as five or six men.

Pilsung had explained that most of the guys working for him had nowhere else to go. Even those who could afford a place didn’t bother, given the unpredictable nature of their work. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be released from prison only to find their landlord had sold the building and disappeared. The idea of gangsters being swindled didn’t quite make sense to Wooyoon.

Pilsung’s apartment was on the fourth floor, on the left. The first thing that caught Wooyoon’s eye upon entering was the large bed in the living room. Other than that, there were exercise equipment, a wall-mounted TV, and a low table. There were two more rooms: a closet and a bathroom.

Pilsung emerged from the closet with a black t-shirt and shorts, handing them to Wooyoon. “You must be tired. Go ahead and shower. I’ll wash up at the guys’ place.”

“Okay.”

“Call me if anything happens. I’ll be right next door.”

Wooyoon nodded, unsure what could possibly happen while showering, and headed to the bathroom.

Pilsung watched the bathroom door close, then pulled a pill bottle from his jacket. He popped a non-pheromone suppressant into his mouth, crunching it between his teeth. He knew it wouldn’t suppress the regular kind of arousal, but he swallowed another one anyway. Jerking off would be more effective, he thought, but took another pill just in case.

While Pilsung headed next door, poking himself in the thigh in frustration, Wooyoon reveled in the luxury of hot water in the spacious, clean bathroom. Having only ever showered in cold water, regardless of the season, one of his bucket list items was to take a steaming hot shower, even in summer, and waste all the hot water.

He also liked the showerhead, positioned high above him. He didn’t have to stoop or crouch.

Humming the song Pilsung had recorded for him, Wooyoon finished his shower and emerged with a towel wrapped around his head.

Pilsung was sitting on the bed in his underwear, smoking. His muscles, toned from anger or something else, bulged on his arms, chest, and back. He looked as massive as ever.

Sensing Wooyoon, Pilsung stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand attached to the headboard and asked, “Why didn’t you dry your hair?”

“Too hot.”

Wooyoon’s cheeks were flushed. The neckline of Pilsung’s t-shirt hung loosely below his collarbone, and he’d ingeniously tucked the oversized shorts into the shirt and tightened the drawstring in a vain attempt to keep them up. Despite his efforts, they looked like they’d fall off with a tug.

Pilsung pushed his unstyled hair back from his forehead.

“This is driving me crazy…”

On any other day, he would have pounced on the clueless Nam Wooyoon, who had just confessed his feelings, and had his way with him. But he couldn’t bring himself to touch Wooyoon after what he’d been through.

“Sit. I’ll dry it. You’ll catch a cold from the AC.”

Wooyoon sat on the floor at the foot of the bed as instructed. So that’s why it felt cool. He glanced up at the wall-mounted AC unit. He felt foolish for thinking the coolness was simply in contrast to the hot shower.

Pilsung retrieved the hairdryer from the bathroom and sat on the bed. He plugged it into the outlet on the headboard and began ruffling Wooyoon’s hair. With every rub, Wooyoon’s head bobbed back and forth. Amused by his compliance, Pilsung occasionally touched his earlobe and the shell of his ear, a gesture he often used while bathing stray dogs he picked up off the streets.

A reward for enduring hardship and surviving.

“Let’s see…”

“…”

“Looks good enough.”

Pilsung patted Wooyoon’s hair, which was now sticking up with static, and patted the space beside him.

“Come up.”

Wooyoon sat next to Pilsung on the bed, which dipped significantly under Pilsung’s weight. Pilsung naturally took his hand. But that was all. He kneaded Wooyoon’s hand, then leaned back as if to lie down, staring at the ceiling, before sitting back up and resuming the hand massage.

He was acting normal. This was the same Baek Pilsung who grinned at the slightest eye contact. Wooyoon had expected a much bigger reaction to his confession, perhaps some gloating about Wooyoon’s unspoken pining.

Looking down at Pilsung’s thick fingers intertwined with his, Wooyoon mumbled, “Aren’t you going to… ask me why I like you? Or what I like about you?”

Pilsung, sneaking glances at Wooyoon’s exposed collarbone, chuckled. “If the Nam Wooyoon who used to tremble at my sight is now crying and confessing his feelings, it’s pretty obvious he’s head over heels for Baek Pilsung. What more is there to ask?”

“I guess…”

“Damn, it’s past two. Go to sleep.”

Pilsung let go of his hand and stood up. Wooyoon reached for him, but finding no clothing to grip, he grabbed the nearest thing – Pilsung’s butt. Startled by the sudden contact, Pilsung froze and looked back.

“What? Trying to seduce me now?”

Wooyoon quickly retracted his hand from the firm buttock and stammered, “It’s not like that… Where are you going?”

“I’m sleeping next door.”

“Why?”

Pilsung answered frankly, “In case I get a boner.”

Pilsung’s erections were a constant. He’d always been brazen, getting hard and even masturbating in front of Wooyoon. His sudden show of restraint felt strange. More than anything, Wooyoon didn’t want him to leave. He wanted Pilsung to stay.

He looked up at Pilsung, scratching his chin awkwardly. Then, blushing slightly, he said, “I used to think… that was gross and disgusting… but now that I like you, I understand.”

“…”

“My heart races too, sometimes so fast I feel like throwing up. It’s the same for you, isn’t it? You can’t help it.”

There was an odd mix of endearing and strange in his words. Pilsung frowned. “Do I disgust you when I get hard?”

“I said ‘used to’… I don’t know about now… Maybe…”

Pilsung pursed his lips, then plopped back down beside Wooyoon, the bed creaking under his weight. He cupped Wooyoon’s face in his large hands and leaned closer.

Wooyoon stared blankly at Pilsung’s approaching face, their noses almost touching, then wiggled his lips, suddenly feeling a tingling sensation, like the residual buzz after Pilsung had squeezed his wrists.

“Then… we can find out, can’t we?”

Pilsung gently rubbed his palms against Wooyoon’s still warm cheeks. Flustered by the suggestive offer, Wooyoon’s eyes darted around before he slowly replied, “I… guess so…?”

His voice caught in his throat. Pilsung’s proximity made it hard to breathe. His nonchalance during their kiss on the paddle boat felt like a lie. He tensed, then abruptly turned his head away, gasping for air. But before he could take a few proper breaths, Pilsung caught his chin, turning his face back. His gaze fixed on Wooyoon’s loose shirt, he said, “As a present for becoming my official boyfriend, show me your chest. You said your heart’s racing, right? Show me.”

“I have a different present… I bought it yesterday…”

“Fuck, the best present for me is jerking off while looking at your chest…”

“…”

“Can I…? Can I do it?”

His voice was low and pleading. Wooyoon glanced at the shopping bag by the bathroom door. He’d been so eager to give Pilsung his gift, replaying the moment in his head over and over. But strangely, he felt like he could wait until tomorrow.

He was curious. How would he feel about Pilsung’s “weird behavior” now? How much further could his already racing heart be pushed?

Wooyoon squeezed his eyes shut. Pilsung pulled back slightly, watching him tremble with his face flushed crimson. Seeing Wooyoon, who had been so unfazed by their kiss, now so nervous made Pilsung’s own face flush.

He’d thought that hearing Wooyoon confess and cry was enough. He’d considered it uncool to press for more. But seeing this visible confirmation of Wooyoon’s feelings was undeniably satisfying. It made his already strained cock throb.

Asking “how much do you like me?” or “what do you like about me?” was something a sly fox would do… fuck…

He hadn’t intended on doing anything with Wooyoon after what he’d been through, but if Wooyoon wanted to try, who was he to stop him?

Hell no.

If Nam Wooyoon was curious about whether his hard-on was still disgusting, and wanted to find out, then he should let him.

As Wooyoon’s eyelids fluttered open, Pilsung quickly pressed his lips against his. Wooyoon’s head lolled back with each peck. The kisses, growing deeper with each repetition, made Wooyoon tense his neck.

It was strange. His heart was pounding harder than it had on the paddle boat, so loud he could hear it in his ears. He felt sweat prickling his freshly showered skin, and his neck and back flushed with heat.

“Mm…”

Wooyoon’s lower lip puckered involuntarily each time Pilsung’s lips brushed against his, a ticklish sensation that made him crinkle his nose.

Oh… pheromones…

His already flushed face burned even hotter. Lost in Pilsung’s kisses, he hadn’t been controlling his pheromones, and their scent now filled the air around the bed. He suddenly remembered the Omega he’d encountered at the resort. The man’s face was hazy in his memory, but he vividly recalled the scent of his pheromones as he sat beside Pilsung—a blatant, almost embarrassing aroma of sexual desire directed at Pilsung.

Wooyoon couldn’t believe he was producing a similar scent in Pilsung’s bed. If Pilsung were an Alpha, able to perceive his pheromones, Wooyoon would probably faint from shame.

He tensed, curling his toes. Even if Pilsung couldn’t sense it, Wooyoon was mortified by the scent he was emitting. He tried to control his pheromones, but his anxiety and excitement refused to subside. His heart pounded relentlessly.

“Mm…”

The light pecks deepened into a soft, lingering kiss. Wooyoon’s shoulders twitched as Pilsung sucked on his lower and upper lips in turn. Unable to open his mouth fully, he mumbled, “I… I think I’m going to be sick…”

“No, you’re not.”

Pilsung’s denial was firm as he kissed him again, swirling his tongue around Wooyoon’s lower lip before releasing it with a flick. He noticed the unfamiliar flush of arousal in Wooyoon’s usually sleepy eyes and bit down on his moist lips.

Fuck, this is insane…

His lower abdomen tightened, hard as a rock with the rush of blood. He struggled to restrain himself from pushing Wooyoon down and ravishing him right then and there.

Oblivious to Pilsung’s inner turmoil, Wooyoon whimpered and shivered as he was kissed, then turned his head away again, mumbling in a small voice, “My heart… it’s going to explode…”

“It won’t.”

“It’s beating so fast… Really…”

Pilsung stared at the mumbling Wooyoon with flushed eyes, then hung his head, his brow furrowed in thought. He bit his lip for a few seconds, his eyes darting back and forth before he looked up.

“Let’s see.”

He brushed his hair back from his forehead and placed a hand on Wooyoon’s chest. Wooyoon flinched and tried to pull away, but Pilsung caught the back of his neck with his other hand, his voice low and warning, “Stay still.”

He focused on the sensation beneath his palm, the frantic thump-thump-thumping of Wooyoon’s heart. He realized it wasn’t an act, not an attempt to tease or play hard to get. Pilsung nodded slightly.

“Oh, you’re right.”

“See?”

“But my dick is about to explode too, for fuck’s sake.”

The hand on Wooyoon’s chest grabbed his wrist, pulling it down between Pilsung’s legs. Wooyoon quickly recoiled as his hand neared Pilsung’s thick drawers, exclaiming, “Wait!”

“Want to bet who explodes first?”

“No!”

As Wooyoon turned his head away, Pilsung moved his hand from his groin to his own chest, placing Wooyoon’s small hand on top. “Touch it,” he whispered.

Wooyoon slowly spread his curled fingers, his palm covering Pilsung’s broad chest. His wide, doe-like eyes fixed on Pilsung, he felt the frantic beating of the gangster’s heart beneath his hand, the strong, steady pulse vibrating through the warm, hard muscle.

It’s beating, so hard. Way harder than mine.

“You lose,” Pilsung murmured, his eyes bloodshot as he met Wooyoon’s gaze. “I’ll explode first, so you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“…”

“Do whatever you feel like, whatever you want. I’ll…”

“…”

“I’ll take it all.”

A spark flickered in Wooyoon’s eyes as he stared at Pilsung.

Whatever I feel like, whatever I want…

He remembered vowing never to hold back again after learning of his brother’s betrayal. He would live selfishly, as his brother had. He would use the gangster and discard him, just as his brother had used him.

Like my brother, like my brother…

Now, he realized that wasn’t him. He’d been imitating his brother, not following his own desires.

He moved his hand from Pilsung’s chest to his throat, gently tracing the long, prominent scar.

His brother was no longer the reason he saw Pilsung. He was here solely because of his own feelings. So what should he do with Pilsung now? What did he want to do with Pilsung?

Not like his brother, but as Nam Wooyoon. What did Nam Wooyoon want? Where did his heart lead him?

Emboldened by Pilsung’s reassurance, Wooyoon acted on his strongest desire. Propping himself up on one arm, he stretched towards Pilsung, wrapping his hand around his neck.

He softly pressed his lips against Pilsung’s eyes, usually hidden behind sunglasses. The fierce eyes closed without resistance, the slight tremor of his eyelids felt against Wooyoon’s lips. It was a delicate tremor, unexpected from a gangster.

“Ha…”

Pilsung, one eye closed from Wooyoon’s kiss, let out a low chuckle of self-deprecation. Wooyoon kissing his ugly eyes, so much like his deadbeat father’s, only added fuel to the fire burning in his groin.

He wrapped his arms around Wooyoon’s waist, pulling him down as he continued to pepper Pilsung’s eyelids with kisses.

“Whoa!”

Wooyoon landed on the bed with a soft thud, Pilsung settling between his legs. He immediately captured Wooyoon’s lips, the kiss even more heated than before.

Pilsung swirled his tongue around Wooyoon’s hesitantly offered tongue, exploring his mouth, licking the soft palate, stroking the inside of his cheek. Whenever he sucked hard on Wooyoon’s tongue, Wooyoon would moan and writhe in his embrace. He seemed uncomfortable, but he stopped complaining about being sick or his heart exploding.

As he kissed Wooyoon, gauging his reactions, Pilsung tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his tightened shorts. He slipped his hand inside, his fingers expertly stroking Wooyoon’s flat stomach before moving up to cup his chest.

“Ugh…”

Wooyoon turned his head away with a muffled groan. The rough palm squeezing and releasing his nipple sent a strange jolt through his abdomen and legs. He felt embarrassed that Pilsung might notice his tensing body, but he couldn’t relax, or his hips would start bucking involuntarily.

He pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose, and looked up at Pilsung. Too shy to meet his eyes, he focused on Pilsung’s lips, watching them move as he cursed under his breath.

“Haa… pretty thing…”

“Ugh…”

Pilsung looked down at Wooyoon whimpering and swallowing his moans, then tilted his head and licked Wooyoon’s jaw, trailing his tongue from his pointed chin to the sensitive skin below his ear. He nudged his earlobe with his tongue, and the body beneath him shuddered.

“Ah!”

He caught Wooyoon’s chin as he jerked his head away, surprised by the sudden stimulation, and slipped his tongue into his ear. At the same time, his hand moved from caressing Wooyoon’s chest to flicking his nipple.

“Stop! Wait…!”

The hot, wet tongue swirled inside his ear. A shiver ran down Wooyoon’s spine. He flinched, trying to pull away, hunching his shoulders and clutching at his shirt, trying in vain to stop Pilsung’s hand from toying with his nipple.

Pilsung easily dodged Wooyoon’s attempts to push his hand away. Misinterpreting his squirming, he pulled Wooyoon’s shirt up to his chin, saying reassuringly, “It’s okay. Suck your boyfriend well.”

“It’s… not like that…!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll suck you really good.”

Wooyoon’s chest was exposed, the skin around his pink nipple flushed and marked with Pilsung’s handprint.

“Fuck…”

The sight made Pilsung’s mouth water. He forced his gaze to stay put. He now understood why the brothers and sisters at the church kept muttering God’s name. He felt like he’d lose control if he didn’t invoke something.

He’d always thought the idea of having thoughtful sex was ridiculous, but this was Nam Wooyoon. The same kid who used to tremble with disgust at his sight had finally opened up and confessed his feelings. Pilsung didn’t want to scare him away by being too rough.

He reminded himself to savor this long-awaited feast slowly, like a civilized person, and chanted Wooyoon’s name like a prayer.

“Nam Wooyoon, Nam Wooyoon, fucking Nam Wooyoon…”

Wooyoon heard Pilsung but couldn’t answer, embarrassed moans escaping his throat. He squirmed, Pilsung’s hand stroking the curve of his ribs revealed with each twist. Pilsung pressed his lips against the hand-marked skin of Wooyoon’s chest.

“Ah…”

A moan escaped Wooyoon’s lips the moment Pilsung’s hot tongue touched his nipple. He covered his face with his arms and closed his eyes. It was strange how quickly he was aroused, even without Pilsung touching him directly.

The slick, wet tongue circled his areola, teasingly flicking at the hardened bud, making his hips buck involuntarily. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, obeying only Pilsung’s touch.

“Ah… mm… mm…”

Whispered moans turned into soft, breathy cries. Pilsung frowned, his face buried in Wooyoon’s chest.

“Fuck… so good…”

He couldn’t help but nibble and suck on the nipple as he spoke. But the small, hardened bud wasn’t enough to satisfy his burning desire. He traced the tip with his tongue while reaching down with his other hand, impatiently pulling down his drawers.

He freed his cock and wrapped his hand around it, his mouth still latched onto Wooyoon’s slick nipple. He started stroking himself, moans and ragged breaths escaping his lips almost immediately. He was reacting faster than when he’d jerked off into Wooyoon’s stolen underwear.

“Ha… fuck… ha…”

“Mm… stop… mm…”

Wooyoon lifted his head slightly, looking down at Pilsung hunched over him, his face buried in his chest. From Wooyoon’s perspective, all he could see was the top of Pilsung’s head and his raised shoulder, propped up on one arm.

Pilsung had said he would show him how he masturbated, but Wooyoon couldn’t see anything important. He had no way of knowing if his feelings about Pilsung masturbating had changed. He’d only asked to see his chest, not to be nibbled and sucked on like this.

Normally, he would have complained that Pilsung wasn’t following their agreement. Baek Pilsung was actually quite intimidated by him when he raised his voice. But Wooyoon couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He let his head fall back onto the bed, his gaze fixed on Pilsung.

It felt too good to scold him. His hips bucked on their own, and his uncontrolled pheromones embarrassed him, but the sensation of Pilsung sucking on his nipple sent shivers of pleasure through him.

“Ah… mm… uh…”

He knew, even without looking, that Pilsung’s hard cock wouldn’t disgust him anymore. His wet underwear was proof enough. He’d been trying to ignore it, distracted by his pounding heart and the overwhelming scent of his pheromones, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

He squeezed his legs together, embarrassed by the involuntary twitching between his legs.

“Fuck… why are you teasing me… driving me crazy…”

Pilsung, nestled between Wooyoon’s legs, lifted his head, his hand still stroking Wooyoon’s chest. Finally, Wooyoon had a clear view of Pilsung’s cock.

Wooyoon blinked, his face burning as he stared at the thick, curved cock. He’d seen it before, but it looked even more impressive now.

Oh no… my underwear… it won’t fit…

The sight of the engorged veins and the clear pre-come oozing from the tip excited him, but he worried that the gift he’d carefully prepared would be useless.

Pilsung watched Wooyoon’s stunned expression and rubbed his cock against his white thigh. Wooyoon gripped the sheets as he felt the hot, hard cock slide against his skin beneath his loose shorts.

“It… feels weird…”

“What’s weird? This is your boyfriend’s dick.”

Pilsung’s gaze was fixed on Wooyoon as he pumped his hand, his cock buried deep inside Wooyoon’s shorts. The sensitive tip rubbed against Wooyoon’s inner thigh.

“Fuck! Nam Wooyoon, ha… ha…”

Pilsung groaned, his brow furrowed.

“Fuck… where’s the… ha… civility, for fuck’s sake…!”

“What… what… mm…”

Confused by Pilsung’s sudden concern for civility, Wooyoon watched as Pilsung grabbed the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down in one swift motion. He tossed the discarded shorts off the bed.

“No! Wait!”

Pilsung braced himself on either side of Wooyoon’s head, his hard cock pressing and grinding against Wooyoon’s underwear.

“Ah!”

Wooyoon clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the simultaneous friction and pressure between his legs. The pleasure, dictated by someone else, was an intense sensation he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Ha… uh… ah…!”

As Wooyoon’s moans escalated with the grinding motion, Pilsung pressed his lips against his forehead and whispered, “Turn your face towards me.”

“Ah… ah…”

Wooyoon shook his head, then squeezed his eyes shut again, whimpering. His trembling chin was endearing. Pilsung pecked his forehead a few more times, continuing to rub his hardening cock against Wooyoon’s through his thin underwear. He increased the pressure and the rotation of his hips, and Wooyoon’s breathing grew heavier.

“Ah… Baek Pilsung… ah!”

Pilsung grabbed Wooyoon’s chin and turned his face towards him, his own flushed. He immediately swerved his head and licked Wooyoon’s lips. Wooyoon instinctively stuck out his tongue, panting softly.

Pilsung met Wooyoon’s tongue, mimicking the grinding motion of their lower bodies with their tongues, then thrust his tongue deep inside Wooyoon’s mouth. Wooyoon gripped Pilsung’s thick forearm with both hands, his throat blocked by Pilsung’s tongue.

“Mm… mm…”

Their saliva and hot breaths mingled. Wooyoon sucked on Pilsung’s tongue, his fingernails digging into his arm. With every thrust of Pilsung’s cock against his, he felt a jolt of pleasure that made him feel close to orgasm.

So hot… I’m burning up…

His entire body felt hot and damp, but the heat was concentrated where he was pressed against Pilsung. The cool air from the AC was no longer noticeable.

He moaned, sucking on Pilsung’s tongue, his hips instinctively rocking against Pilsung’s hard cock. The unfamiliar movements felt strange, but he couldn’t stop, driven by the burning need consuming him.

Pilsung groaned, breaking the kiss as he sucked hard on Wooyoon’s tongue.

“Ha… fuck… good…”

“Ah…”

He didn’t understand why he was already on the verge of orgasm from such timid movements. “Pretty,” Pilsung whispered, pecking Wooyoon’s cheek as he squirmed, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar intimacy.

“Ha… good? Nam Wooyoon… ah… good?”

“Mm… yes… good… but…”

Wooyoon mumbled between kisses on his cheek and ear, swallowing his moans.

“I… I think I’m going to… cum…”

“Okay. I’ll give you a blowjob.”

“Huh?”

Pilsung pressed his lips against Wooyoon’s collarbone before reaching down to remove his underwear. At the same time, Wooyoon’s hand darted down to protect his groin.

Pilsung paused, his hand slowly stroking his engorged cock as he stared at Wooyoon.

Wooyoon clutched his hardening cock, his lips moving soundlessly.

He knew what Pilsung was about to do. He’d seen it on TV.

He’d first encountered adult films around the time his designation had manifested and he’d started spending more time at home. Despite Betas being the majority, adult films with titles including “Alpha” and “Omega” were a constant temptation for Wooyoon, who was at the peak of his sexual curiosity. Recalling the sex scenes he’d glimpsed late at night when his brother was out, he realized Pilsung’s offer of a “blowjob” probably meant oral sex.

He was curious about what it would feel like, but he didn’t want Pilsung to see his messy, wet underwear. Even the scent of his pheromones, undetectable to Pilsung, was mortifying enough. Showing Pilsung his aroused state would require even more courage.

Pilsung watched his hesitant expression, then chuckled as if a lightbulb had gone off. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed Wooyoon’s underwear and ripped it in half.

“No!”

Wooyoon cried out, but it was too late. His only pair of underwear was now in shreds. He stared at Pilsung, who tossed the tattered fabric aside without a second thought.

“My underwear…”

“Like it?” Pilsung smirked, asking Wooyoon for his opinion on his sexual fantasy fulfilled. “Tell me honestly. I’ll grant you anything you want.”

“Why… why are you doing this…?”

He couldn’t understand why Pilsung was so pleased with himself after ripping his perfectly good underwear. He frowned, covering his exposed groin with his hands. Pilsung, unfazed, buried his face in Wooyoon’s crotch.

He kneaded Wooyoon’s soft buttocks with the hands he’d slipped beneath his legs, kissing the backs of Wooyoon’s hands covering his groin, then licking the handcuff marks on his wrists.

“Stop it… you can’t… look yet…”

Ignoring Wooyoon’s mumbling protests, Pilsung pinned his wrists to his stomach. Unable to curl his knees with Pilsung’s weight on him, Wooyoon whined softly.

“Why won’t you let me see… you’re so pretty…”

Pilsung murmured, gazing at his clean groin, then flicked his middle finger against Wooyoon’s hard cock. Wooyoon whimpered as a clear drop of pre-come oozed from the tip.

“Don’t cum yet. I’ll suck you. Cum in my mouth.”

“I can’t… hold it…!”

Wooyoon’s back arched with a sharp cry as he came, his semen splattering Pilsung’s hand and wrist. He trembled, his face flushed, his body still buzzing from the orgasm.

“Aw, what a waste…”

Pilsung clicked his tongue and released Wooyoon’s wrists. He licked the semen off his hand and wrist, looking down at Wooyoon. The flush was fading from his face as his expression slowly crumpled. Pilsung tried to reassure him, sensing his embarrassment at having climaxed so quickly.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha… Why would I… worry…?”

Wooyoon’s voice trembled as he asked, confused as to why Pilsung was licking up his semen. Pilsung seemed to have completely misunderstood.

He wiped his now clean hand on Wooyoon’s hair and raised a dark eyebrow. “Get on your knees and face down. I’ll get your dick hard again in three seconds.”

“What…”

Before Wooyoon could question him, Pilsung flipped him over. He quickly nuzzled his lips against Wooyoon’s slick entrance before he could struggle.

“Ah…!”

Wooyoon cried out, collapsing onto the bed, his knees still awkwardly bent. Pilsung slipped his arm under Wooyoon’s stomach, easily lifting his hips into a more convenient position for licking. Wooyoon’s face was pressed against the sheets as his raised legs trembled.

“Baek Pilsung…”

He moaned Pilsung’s name. Pilsung, his lips pressed against Wooyoon’s entrance, began licking the tight ring of muscle.

“Ah…!”

Wooyoon gripped the sheets, whimpering with each flick of Pilsung’s hot, slick tongue.

“Ah…”

His jaw trembled as he gasped for air. The unfamiliar pleasure churning in his gut was overwhelming. His lower abdomen tingled, while his cock, still sensitive from his recent orgasm, throbbed again. He was embarrassed and scared by how quickly he was getting hard again, despite Pilsung’s confident assertion. He grimaced, reaching down to grasp his hardening cock.

Meanwhile, Pilsung’s tongue, which had been flicking like he was licking an ice cream cone, began to probe Wooyoon’s entrance. The moment the soft, wet muscle slipped inside, Wooyoon cried out, his eyes squeezing shut. He came again, a thin stream of semen leaking through his fingers.

“Ha… what… what was that…”

He mumbled, hiding his twitching cock with his sticky hand. His brow furrowed, he called out to Pilsung in a small, tearful voice.

“Baek Pilsung… Pilsung…”

Pilsung, who had been lost in the sensation of licking Wooyoon, his nose buried between his buttocks, finally looked up. Wooyoon’s raised hips settled back down.

Pilsung looked at Wooyoon’s back, confused by his sudden stillness. He’d just gotten started, and he didn’t understand why Wooyoon had stopped responding.

He licked his lips, which were slick with Wooyoon’s fluids and his own saliva, and frowned, watching Wooyoon’s trembling back.

“Hey… are you… crying? Are you crying?”

“Sniff… sniff…”

“Why?”

He kneaded Wooyoon’s small buttocks, then flopped down beside him. The bed creaked under his weight. Wooyoon had buried his face in the bed, his breathing ragged. Pilsung gently touched his flushed earlobe.

“Geez. Was it that good? But you’re supposed to cry during, not after…”

His tone, a mix of embarrassment and pride, irritated Wooyoon. He turned sharply to glare at Pilsung, tears welling in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks.

“You asked to see my chest, and then you sucked on me everywhere! You said I could do whatever I wanted, but you ripped my underwear! Why? I only had one pair…!”

“Hey, about that…”

“And I came… I just came… and then you did that weird thing… and I came so fast… I was surprised… and it felt weird… and scary… why… sniff…”

He trailed off, tears streaming down his face as he glared accusingly at Pilsung. Pilsung watched him cry, absently stroking his still-hard cock. He was bewildered by Wooyoon’s sudden outburst, but also aroused. He tried to placate him.

“You told me to rip your underwear. What are you complaining about?”

“When did I…!”

“Then why were you grinding your hips?”

“…”

“If you weren’t going to let me suck you, then why the fuck did you lick my eyes?”

Wooyoon clamped his mouth shut at Pilsung’s indignant retort, blinking his tear-filled eyes.

It had felt good. Really good. He’d enjoyed the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the friction of their cocks. He’d even enjoyed the embarrassing but pleasurable sensation of Pilsung sucking on his nipples. But he’d been scared by the sudden exposure of his aroused state and the strange way he’d climaxed twice in quick succession. He wasn’t as brazen as Pilsung, who seemed comfortable stripping at any moment.

He wanted to say that his chest was okay, but he wasn’t ready to have his cock sucked yet. He continued to cry silently, relieved when Pilsung backed down.

“Okay, okay. Let’s stop here for today.”

Pilsung sighed, fiddling with Wooyoon’s earlobe. He’d barely managed to restrain himself from stripping Wooyoon bare and having his way with him. He’d been agonizing over how to avoid making any irreparable mistakes, especially now that they were finally together, only to have his efforts thwarted by this unexpected turn of events.

Just a twenty-year-old kid. A kid who’d probably never even had a proper heat in his cramped little room.

Wooyoon would probably protest that he knew everything, but objectively, he was sexually inexperienced. Pilsung, on the other hand, had been through it all since he was young. Considering Wooyoon’s inexperience, he could understand why he’d burst into tears mid-act. Pilsung understood the anxieties of small, fragile things. In fact, he loved them for their vulnerability.

He patted Wooyoon’s rounded buttocks reassuringly and lay back, staring at the ceiling. He finally let go of his cock, which remained stubbornly erect despite his prolonged restraint.

Wooyoon’s tearful, whiny behavior was cute and endearing, but he still needed to finish what he’d started.

“You touch me instead.”

“…What?”

Wooyoon blinked, his eyelashes clumped together with tears. Pilsung put his hands behind his head and groaned.

“My dick’s killing me because I haven’t cum yet. Give me a handjob.”

“Me… me?”

“Yes, you, for fuck’s sake.”

Wooyoon stared at him for a moment, then sniffed and sat up. He was too nervous to touch Pilsung, but it felt less daunting if he was the one doing the touching.

Isn’t it too hard…?

He gulped, glancing down at the thick cock rising proudly from Pilsung’s hairy groin.

He hesitantly reached out, his fingers wrapping around the base of Pilsung’s cock. It felt hotter and harder than when they’d rubbed against each other.

He tentatively stroked the base, then started sliding his hand up and down the shaft.

“Ha…”

“…”

“Fuck…”

With each of Pilsung’s heavy breaths, the muscles in his thick thighs, still partially covered by his drawers, flexed and twitched. Wooyoon’s eyes, heavy-lidded like someone fighting sleep, darted downwards.

So big. So, so big…