The Smell of Something Fishy Chapter 6.2

[Why.]

The tone demanding a reason was firm and resolute. Even when Yeonseo had first informed his father about staying out overnight, the reaction hadn’t been this intense, so Yeonseo quietly tried to soothe his flustered feelings.

His chest stung sharply. Having unintentionally lied, Yeonseo felt a pang of guilt.

“Well, I, I have a lot of stuff. I need to pack for the move and, and look at the new place…”

[You could’ve stayed at my place.]

The already low voice sank to the floor. The tone, clearly conveying discomfort, made Yeonseo start pacing around the room. He was anxious about being caught hiding something.

“Well, even so… I still need to pack my things.”

A heavy sigh came from the other end, sounding distant.

[Then what about the contract?]

“Oh… the, the contract. Could you maybe give me a few days… No! I don’t mean I dislike the contract.”

[I understand.]

Cutting off Yeonseo’s excuses, Tae Shinju added coldly.

[Whether it’s packing or whatever, you’d better return quickly. Before I get tired of you, Park Yeonseo.]

“Oh…”

Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, Yeonseo stared at the blinking call timer. One minute and forty-seven seconds. In less than two minutes, it felt like his heart was being squeezed.

“He doesn’t seem to like me staying out…”

Do well before he gets tired of you.

Those words were likely meant to hurt. They might be sincere, but Yeonseo couldn’t shake the feeling that Tae Shinju was upset about his sudden overnight stay.

‘Does he miss me?’

Does he… miss me too?

‘I hope he does.’

I wish he’d miss me…

Glancing at the mirror, he checked his reflection. There was no way anything significant had changed in just a few minutes, yet he pouted as if throwing a tantrum. It didn’t suit him. They say those who are good at getting angry pout well, but his pouting looked terribly awkward.

Yeonseo let out a faint sigh and carefully examined his appearance. The clothes he’d worn from Tae Shinju’s house had been changed when tending to his wounds. A frayed t-shirt and worn-out pants. A face full of scars. No different from the Park Yeonseo before he met Tae Shinju. In other words, unimpressive.

But…

After a moment’s hesitation, he lifted his t-shirt slightly. The nipple ring, tightly clamped around his nipple, dangled without falling off. The plump nipple, forcibly pierced by Hyung, looked slightly sore. It stung when touched, but Yeonseo only tightened the ring further with his hand.

Lowering the tattered t-shirt, the provocative mark became a secret only he knew. It wasn’t as if he was hiding some grand power like a movie protagonist, yet it felt oddly satisfying. It suited him. Something lewd and vulgar.

Something that desired a man.

Turning, he touched the shirt hanging on the living room clothesline. It was still damp, freshly washed. He’d only noticed the bloodstain from a nosebleed on the hem after changing. His excuse about missing the call due to other tasks was true. Though, it only applied to the first four calls.

“…Time to pack.”

He trudged over and began gathering important items. His father’s keepsakes, a few photos, an empty jelly container.

His gaze lingered deeply on the red jelly container. Aside from a few scratches, the plastic case looked brand new. It bore the same illustration as the jelly from the pharmacy, but the background design and case shape were entirely different.

It was, after all, packaging from a bygone era.

He could discard other items without hesitation, but not this jelly container. He’d kept it since he was six, proof that the time spent with ‘Hyung’ wasn’t just his imagination.

“Hyung… are you alive?”

He voiced the question aloud for the first time in a while. As he grew older and learned to guard his inner thoughts, he’d stopped asking. Before that, he used to ask the container often.

Are you alive somewhere? Are you doing well?

Have you forgotten someone like me?

In truth, they hadn’t done anything remarkable. The memories that came to mind were trivial. Saying ‘hello,’ going to the pharmacy together, sitting on bare steps chatting, cursing the short, fat man while sharing jelly, going to a diner, or just walking in silence…

That was all, yet it was enough.

The water fountain, which he’d started visiting due to a promise with his mother, became a place to seek out Hyung. If Hyung wasn’t there, Yeonseo would think, ‘He didn’t come today,’ yet wander the neighborhood all day.

That’s how much Yeonseo wondered about ‘Hyung.’ He was important, vivid enough to appear in dreams as if it were yesterday.

Thinking of Hyung brought the scent of the breeze first. Specifically, the chill of cold air stinging his nose.

It was a cold season. A season where he didn’t feel the cold. Memories warmer than thick clothing lingered, always warming his heart. Strangely, some memories grew with his heart, acting as if they were its clothing.

The first taste of someone’s kindness became his heart’s clothing.

Though it was his only one, Hyung, the only person who’d ever warmed his heart, and the time spent with him, couldn’t be firmly buried.

‘If I’d been a bit older back then…’

No, if he’d been a bit more perceptive. Stronger.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be wandering through dreams searching for Hyung.

The last day he saw Hyung. That day, from early morning to late afternoon, he couldn’t find him.

In dreams, it’s always that day, unmistakable. Around that time, he’d seen Hyung daily without fail, but when Hyung vanished, Yeonseo scoured the entire neighborhood looking for him.

Oddly, the gangsters who roamed the area as much as Hyung did also disappeared that day.

It wasn’t enough to assume, ‘Is today their day off?’ The neighborhood’s atmosphere felt strangely chaotic, like when someone was forcibly evicted.

They hadn’t harmed him, but Yeonseo knew the gangsters were the main culprits behind driving out neighbors. Not just for a day or two, but an entire season of the same behavior—only a fool wouldn’t notice. Even six-year-old Yeonseo had that much sense.

Around the time streetlights flickered on, an elderly neighbor, as if suddenly remembering, warned him.

—Kid, don’t go near the abandoned warehouse, even if you’re playing.

—The abandoned warehouse?

—Those gangsters are swarming there like it’s their own place… Tsk. It’s dangerous, so steer clear. Got it?

—Yes…

—Good boy.

The elder was familiar, having greeted Yeonseo often. Knowing he roamed the neighborhood daily, they likely offered the advice out of concern.

Yeonseo nodded obediently. But inwardly, a question arose.

Why were the gangsters gathered there?

The abandoned warehouse on the village’s west side, once a storage for a nearby factory, was closed when the factory shut down, earning its name. In the past, when the neighborhood was lively, the warehouse was a famous playground for kids. Its open space was perfect for tag or jump rope during the day, and at night, its pitch-black darkness sparked rumors of ghosts.

Yeonseo mostly watched other kids play there. No one invited him to join.

—Hmm…

Should I go?

It wasn’t just idle curiosity. If the gangsters were there, Hyung might be too, which tugged at his heart.

It was winter, so the sun set early, but it was far from midnight.

Without much thought, Yeonseo headed to the warehouse. Even with his reasons, his courage back then was remarkable, unlike now.

His desire to see Hyung, the belief that the short, fat man he’d greeted a few times wouldn’t harm him—all merged into curiosity, urging his steps.

While the water fountain and his house were nearly in a straight line, the west end was quite a distance. Though the neighborhood was small, it was a long walk for a six-year-old’s stride.

Distance aside, Yeonseo worried about being late. What if a fight broke out with the man while he wasn’t there? Even to a child’s eyes, Hyung’s relationship with the short man was terrible.

From their first ‘hello,’ their dynamic seemed off. While Yeonseo grew closer to Hyung through greetings, the man took the opposite path. They didn’t raise voices or fists, but Yeonseo learned people could smile so spitefully. If that was an adult’s fight, Yeonseo felt he’d lose to anyone.

Arriving hurriedly, the warehouse was silent. Not a single person in sight, making him wonder if the elder was mistaken.

Was he too late? Had everyone left?

—Hyung…

With empty houses around and the sun gone, the warehouse area felt eerie. If he told Hyung or anyone he’d been here alone at night, they’d call him a liar.

His efforts to rush there were in vain. Yeonseo kicked a pebble, trying to linger. In summer, the sun would still be up, better for waiting. He even blamed the season in his frustration.

He knew he couldn’t stay long.

It was too cold. Standing still, the forgotten chill and fatigue from walking all day hit him.

—Just… just a little rest, then I’ll go…

Luckily or not, there were empty shacks nearby. Yeonseo entered one, leaning against the door and sitting with his knees drawn up. Wind slipped through the open door, but the barrier helped slightly.

The darkness was fine. His father’s house was just as dark, so he was used to it.

He must’ve dozed off.

Yeonseo snapped awake.

—Ugh, ah…

He didn’t know how much time had passed. His limbs were stiff, his body heavy.

Struggling to stand, he left the shack, checking his pockets for anything left behind. In the dark, it was easy to lose things, so he checked often. Nothing was missing. The jelly he carried for Hyung and the handkerchief Hyung refused, now his, were safe.

Chewing a jelly, Yeonseo hugged himself. The silence suggested he was either too late or the elder was wrong.

The walk back was twice as hard. Far from skipping, he trudged step by step. Every path felt far, so following the edge of the empty houses straight down was, in hindsight, his best choice that day.

The path between the factory and houses was relatively maintained. Not paved like today, but smoother than most dirt roads.

It was a fleeting judgment that the path would be easier to walk.

He walked for a while. Lost in a daze, he reached the abandoned container area, about halfway.

Thud.

A dull impact sounded.

—Huh…?

Yeonseo stopped and looked around. He’d heard something…

—Did I mishear?

A dark night. Still no sign of even a passing insect. He curled up and took another step.

Thud!

—What?

This time, he definitely heard it!

Yeonseo jerked his head up.

—Is someone there?

He asked softly, not raising his voice. In the quiet night, small sounds carried. The buildings, barely built to shield from weather, had poor soundproofing. A shout wasn’t needed.

Thud! Thud!

The sound of hitting a wall grew clearer. Hesitating, Yeonseo turned toward it. If he wasn’t mistaken, it came from the container…

Pinpointing the source was easy. A thin wall wouldn’t make such a dull sound. It had to be something solid and resonant, struck with force without breaking.

—…Hyung? Is that you, Hyung?

Thud! Thud! Thud! The hits quickened, like a signal. Startled, Yeonseo rushed over. The entrance was locked. Clank, clank. The useless doorknob was maddening.

—Hyung! Hyung, are you in there?

Desperately, he clung to the knob. The cruel door wouldn’t budge.

Click.

—Huh?

The door opened from inside.

Creak.

As the rusted door swung open…

Ding-dong.

“…Gasp!”

Yeonseo fell back, clutching his chest, panting.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

The shock of being yanked from old memories was intense. His heart pounded, his vision spun.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

An unexpected visitor gave no time to compose himself. Yeonseo patted his startled chest and answered habitually.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

He unlocked one latch, then realized he hadn’t checked who it was. A strange unease hit him. Perhaps because only gangsters had visited this house for so long.

After a bad incident earlier, Yeonseo held the knob and leaned toward the door.

“Um, who is it?”

Bang!

‘They… kicked it…’

Flinching, Yeonseo stepped back as a growling voice commanded.

“Park Yeonseo, open the door.”

“Tae, Tae Shinju?”

Yeonseo covered his gaping mouth. He was genuinely stunned, unsure how to react.

“Why, why…?”

Why is he here?

He repeated the question dumbly. Why did he come?

There was no time to think. Bang. Tae Shinju hit the door again, not knocking but pounding with a deafening force.

He’d just seen an angry Tae Shinju recently. An angry Tae Shinju was as ferocious as Tae Hyunwoong. The difference was that Tae Hyunwoong was merely repulsive, while Tae Shinju was terrifying and bewildering. Despite being the one hurt, Yeonseo felt a trace of guilt, another key difference.

In other words, what he did for his own reasons gave Tae Shinju cause to be angry.

Like right now.

“Open it before I break it.”

He might break me if he sees my face…

Yeonseo drooped his eyes sadly. Clank. As he unlocked the final latch, he was pulled forward with the doorknob.

“Ah!”

He collided face-first into Tae Shinju’s chest. Ow, it hurt. Sharp pain twisted his expression.

Suddenly, his chin was grabbed. Dark, blazing eyes were so close they blurred.

“…What’s with this face.”

Tae Shinju narrowed his eyes, his brows knitting in displeasure.

Staring at the crumpled brows, Yeonseo’s tension oddly melted. He thought to himself.

So that’s it. He found out.

Tae Shinju is here.

“I, um…”

“Speak clearly. What happened.”

“Well… my face is a bit of a mess…”

Is this guy an idiot? Tae Shinju’s gaze said it all.

Yeonseo touched his cheek absentmindedly, then winced.

Tch. Tae Shinju clicked his tongue, grabbing Yeonseo’s wrist and pulling him inside. Dragged along, Yeonseo let out a small groan.

“Ugh…”

“What now.”

What else is there? The mix of confusion and irritation in the question led to a suffocating silence. The marks hidden under his sleeve were now fully exposed.

“…Who did this.”

After briefly examining the bruises, the man loosened his grip and asked. Yeonseo hesitated. The pause wasn’t long, but it seemed enough for the man.

“Tae Hyunwoong?”

His pale wrist was more than half covered in dark bruises. The shape distinctly resembled a handprint—larger than Yeonseo’s but smaller than Tae Shinju’s.

Yeonseo suddenly realized why he didn’t want to show the bruises.

“…Yes.”

That was why. He feared worrying him. Feared he’d tattle like a child, whispering in his ear.

The strength Tae Shinju gave would vanish if he left, yet Yeonseo feared relying on him as if he’d stay forever.

“…….”

It was a pleasant surprise, though. That was true. Seeing the man who’d told him to do well barge in and seem concerned stirred his quiet heart.

He admitted it. He felt relieved that Tae Shinju came.

Relieved that he didn’t blame or scold him. That alone eased his heart.

“Pack your things.”

“What?”

“Just the essentials… No, stay here. What do you need to pack?”

His glare suggested he’d kill if disobeyed. Yeonseo swallowed hard and answered.

He was even remarkably patient. Unless the situation demanded a quick release or a tight schedule, he took pleasure in driving Yeonseo to the brink, only climaxing when Yeonseo’s inner walls convulsed uncontrollably.

So, Yeonseo had inwardly expected this session to be quick, with multiple releases. He was strangely aroused, and it wasn’t like they’d indulged in prolonged foreplay as usual. More than anything, Tae Shinju’s clear dislike for this place made Yeonseo assume they’d finish quickly and leave.

Yet, Tae Shinju, as if mocking Yeonseo’s assumptions, hadn’t released even once. It was incredible restraint.

‘At this rate, who knows what he’ll do.’

His behavior was generally hard to predict. Though his daily routine was simple enough, it was still true. Yeonseo thought he’d grasped Tae Shinju’s sexual habits to some extent, but beyond that, the man was an enigma. With his penchant for spontaneous actions, it was impossible to know in advance which position he’d choose, what he’d say, or when he’d climax—only experience revealed it.

“Ugh…”

“Masturbate.”

Tae Shinju commanded, pulling at both of Yeonseo’s nipples. His hands, gripping the mounds and tormenting the tips, were laden with thirst.

“Hah!”

A hot hand suddenly yanked Yeonseo’s arm, pulling him up and pinning him against the entrance wall. Leaning on his shoulder in a slanted sitting position, it became much easier for Yeonseo to touch himself below.

“Come on. Masturbate.”

A command that pierced the darkness. A hand slipped under Yeonseo’s knees, repeatedly grabbing and releasing his buttocks. With his knees caught on the man’s arm, he couldn’t even close his legs.

The other man’s breath was felt right beside his ear. Then, his ear was sucked into a warm mouth.

“Hnng…!”

The wet, slurping sound sent a shiver down his spine. At that moment, a slender middle finger probed his taut flesh.

“Hah, ngh!”

A sharp jolt of pleasure surged through him. His eyelids clamped shut from the shock. Simultaneously, the vivid sensation of his insides fiercely gripping the thick shaft was almost terrifying. It wasn’t a tentative nibble but a ravenous, grinding bite, like slicing through meat.

His unrestrained lower mouth was devouring Tae Shinju.

“Haa, ngh, hnn.”

Yeonseo moaned mindlessly, frantically rubbing himself. The pleasure was addictive. As Tae Shinju’s movements grew wilder, Yeonseo felt himself spiraling into madness.

His toes curled. No matter how he thrashed his calves or twisted his body, he couldn’t escape this embrace.

It was a sensation both painful and thrillingly electric. His entire body tensed tightly. His mind, however, melted beyond any capacity for judgment.

Slap, slap. Thud, thud. The sound of flesh colliding rang out like hammer strikes. It was practically a battering ram.

The hand kneading his buttocks moved up a notch, gripping Yeonseo’s hips tightly.

“Ngh… ah!”

Thump, thump-thump, thump! The glans, relentlessly pounding at his cervix, finally breached his innermost core.

“Urk…”

“……!”

Yeonseo stopped breathing. His pupils dilated, and a floating sensation, as if time itself had paused, overtook his body.

In that moment, Yeonseo felt as if the ownership of his body had shifted.

The man who forcibly invaded his deepest parts had become the master, controlling not only his frail body but his very breath.

To breathe, he had to surrender his insides, pierced again and again, until the man permitted him to breathe.

Though he’d experienced this several times, the process of regaining his stifled breath was overwhelmingly exhausting for Yeonseo.

The fabric of the man’s pants touched Yeonseo’s buttocks, which had engulfed even the base of his shaft. It was colder and rougher than the familiar sensation of skin. But Yeonseo focused more on the other’s pulse. The heartbeat felt while pressed flat between the wall and the man.

Thump-thump-thump…

He couldn’t breathe.

Thud-thud-thud.

‘Can’t… breathe…’

Tap.

In a moment that felt both long and short, Tae Shinju pressed his lips against Yeonseo’s, as if praising him.

“Breathe.”

The man who’d released his choked breath tilted his head and sealed Yeonseo’s mouth again. It coincided with vigorous thrusts.

“Mmph, hah! Haak, hnnng!”

Slap-slap, merciless penetration. Crushing the entrance and probing every corner of his claimed insides. His passage and walls tried to expel the intruder, but the man only consumed every part of Yeonseo.

“Hk, ngh, ahh.”

Naturally, Yeonseo clung desperately to Tae Shinju’s shoulders. It felt like his throat was being squeezed. Unable to even exhale properly, he dug his nails in.

Can’t breathe, can’t breathe.

Pounding on his shoulders, pushing, flailing, or gripping painfully—neither the relentless thrusting nor the ferocious kissing stopped. They only quickened.

“Haak! Hah! Aah!”

It’s hard. It hurts. It feels good. It’s scary. A tangle of emotions swirled chaotically, reduced to screams directed at the man.

It felt like his insides were being pummeled and crushed. Surely, he’d be bruised.

So that’s why he held back. Only upon reaching the deepest hidden place did he begin to release, flooding Yeonseo’s core with heavy seed, thoroughly saturating it. It was a long, drawn-out climax.

His insides sloshed with semen. The walls grew hypersensitive, and Yeonseo swallowed his sobs. Each time the shaft grazed his deep walls, his eyes burned, and his insides tingled. Even if he didn’t want to, his body convulsed.

I’m scared…

His body, transforming beyond his control, was utterly terrifying.

“If you’re scared, you should avoid it.”

At that moment, a voice, as if seeing through his innermost thoughts, whispered at lip-touching distance. Yeonseo hesitantly moved his arms, embracing the broad back. A steadfast anchor, unshaken by any storm, was right before him.

Thump!

“Nghh…”

Was it relief? His vision whitened, and aserved as a trigger for generating a chart, please confirm if you want one created.