Can Murder Be a Workplace Accident? Chapter 1.3

“Hah, ah, ugh, I told you earlier.”

Min Isak rested his head on the countertop and arched his lower back upwards. It was the posture of a cat or dog stretching. In that position, he turned only his head back and spoke.

“Ugh, you can do whatever you want with everything else, but kissing, don’t, don’t kiss me, Professor. Ugh!”

With a splat sound, he pulled the penis out to the glans and then drove it all the way in. His dark eyes rolled back behind his half-closed eyelids.

“I know, I know. It’s not like we’ve done this once or twice.”

He could not understand this disposition of his, always saying he could do whatever he wanted but that kissing was not allowed. Even between a married couple, there are so many things they cannot tell each other; he did not feel like completely uncovering that inner mind. Since he said to do as he pleased, he should just do as he pleased, except for the kissing.

Kwon Hyuk, with Min Isak still in a prone position, hooked his left leg over his arm.

“Agh!”

The stretching cat became a pissing dog. Min Isak cried out. It was a vulgar position, but one Kwon Hyuk favored because it allowed him to control his partner’s movements while also inserting deeply. Furthermore, it was even better because if they faced a mirror in the restroom, he could also admire his partner’s contorted face.

Leaning his upper body forward, he adjusted the glasses that had slipped down. Min Isak bit his lip and avoided his own eyes in the mirror. The sight of him still suffering from a shred of shame aroused him.

“Head up. Don’t look away.”

He grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Chief Curator Min, you’re entertaining me right now. It’s not polite to enjoy it all by yourself, is it?”

Pushing him so close his face almost touched the mirror, Kwon Hyuk stopped moving his hips.

“Do you know how much money Seohyun initially budgeted to buy the Lee Ufan? It was ten billion, ten billion. Hoo, who was the one that cut it down to six billion in the review, saying it wasn’t worth that much, for you to act so disappointingly? You owe me four billion.”

“…I know.”

Min Isak began to move his own hips. The slackened hole sweetly swallowed his cock. Slowly, and after swallowing it completely, he rotated his hips languidly before repeatedly spitting it all out again. He finally felt the satisfaction of being properly entertained.

“Tell me honestly. How much was Spring’s budget this time? Sixty-one billion. That was the maximum, wasn’t it? You spent quite a bit at Art Basel Hong Kong last May.”

He answered by tensing his muscles and moving his hips. Ah, good, yes. Squeeze it tighter like that. Unable to overcome the pleasure, Kwon Hyuk ground his hips in small motions. Because he was fucking him with only his zipper down, his hips stung terribly.

The two were long-time accomplices.

Lee Ufan, the artist who painted <Point and Line>, was elderly, over ninety, and could no longer produce work. When he died, the price of his works would soar due to scarcity, and after aging it for a few years, not ten billion but thirty billion would be no problem.

A masterpiece that any collector would covet.

Min Isak also had to get his hands on that painting to solidify his position within the gallery. The budget he had secured was sixty-one billion. Since collectors or museums that could pay such an amount in a single cash payment were rare, he had been inwardly relieved. That was, until he heard the inside news that the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Seoul, a.k.a. Seohyun, would be participating in the auction.

It was obviously Lee Yanghee’s scheme.

If there was a silver lining, it was that Seohyun, as a national institution, had to determine its auction bid price by the agreement of an externally invited review committee according to national law, and Min Isak knew inside and out who would be invited to that committee. He requested Professor Kwon Hyuk’s cooperation.

He was reluctant, but a little personal sacrifice was unavoidable in order to survive.

“What’s the point, heuk, of public and national institutions, buying, expensive things? Do they get anything other than a national audit?”

“If a private gallery buys it, is it used for anything other than bribing politicians?”

“Politicians, ah, can’t even store them properly, ugh, so they put them back on the market anyway, don’t they? Heuk, just think of it as, contributing to sustainable economic activity.”

Gently. I told you I have to go back to the office. Grumbling, he gently pushed Kwon Hyuk’s hip bone away with his hand.

“What was that? …Well, it’s true that Seohyun got completely slammed in the last national audit for not having proper collection management regulations. Nothing more to say.”

Is he dissing a state institution for that? Kwon Hyuk punished the annoying mouth by thrusting his dick in forcefully. With the wet sound of flesh slapping, the cream mixed with slickness splattered on his fly.

Moving his hips, he checked his wristwatch. Quite some time had passed. Shall we start wrapping this up? He ran his hand down Min Isak’s penis, which was as smooth as a slug.

The inner walls, which had been trembling lightly for a while, suddenly clenched tight.

“Uugh!”

“Hut!”

White semen splattered onto the sink. The inside of Kwon Hyuk’s hand was damp. But Kwon Hyuk’s penis, having ejaculated once, was still taut. Kwon Hyuk, clinging to the tail end of his thirties, was as virile as he was in his early twenties. There was no way he would be satisfied with ejaculating just once.

“I really don’t know who’s entertaining whom…”

Slap.

“Ack!”

A red handprint was left on the white buttock. Kwon Hyuk smacked Min Isak’s buttock hard with his semen-stained hand.

“I told you to squeeze tighter. How am I supposed to cum in the remaining time like this?”

Delayed ejaculation bastard. He swallowed the curse and moved his hips again. He tensed his lower abdomen and gripped Kwon Hyuk’s penis.

Kwon Hyuk grinned and wiped his hand on Min Isak’s thigh. The sticky feeling was horribly disgusting, and Min Isak gritted his teeth.

Kwon Hyuk, on the other hand, licked his lips and increased his speed. The peach-colored buttocks were so mouth-watering it made his saliva run. He would have to buy some white peaches on the way back to the hotel.

The climax was almost upon them.

Min Isak lay flat on the countertop, panting heavily. Having just come, the continued penetration must be exhausting him to death. A playful thought suddenly occurred to Kwon Hyuk.

Should I drag it out a bit longer and make him gush just like this? Or should I torment him until he can’t move a fingertip and kidnap him to the hotel? If he becomes a mess, he might break his stubborn insistence on going back to the office. The time Min Isak had urged had already passed.

“That’s right. I heard the director is changing.”

He deliberately brought up work talk.

“…Yes.”

Min Isak nodded. Is he actually feeling it? Or is he just acting to finish quickly? Panting as if he would lose consciousness at any moment, he answered well.

“His name was unusual… Namgung Tree, was it?”

Thwack!

He intentionally aimed for the plumply swollen spot and, pulling his cock out to the very end of the hole, plunged it in at once. The sharp, protruding hip bone from his thin frame jabbed Kwon Hyuk’s pubic area.

“Ugh!”

Min Isak’s right leg, which had been precariously standing, bent sharply, and he collapsed onto the floor.

Kwon Hyuk also lost his grip on the left leg he was holding. His cock, which had been moving in and out of the hole, bent and slipped out with a pop.

“Ugh. …My dick! …Fuck. My dick slipped out.”

He grabbed his penis and yelled. It was fortunate that they were in a restroom on the exhibition floor, three levels above the lobby, where no one was around.

He thought it was going to break. The pain was intensified because all his nerves had been focused on the tip of his dick. But it was just an exaggeration; the penis, on the verge of ejaculation, was still taut.

“…You okay, Chief Curator Min?”

He belatedly asked after his well-being. Min Isak, curled up, nodded. It seemed he had scraped his knees on the floor; they were raw.

“Can you continue? I… haven’t cum yet.”

He said, fondling his penis. Min Isak pushed himself up, practically clinging to the countertop. Between his two legs, which trembled like a newborn animal’s, the melted white cream flowed.

He was going to let him off if he said he could not do it. But the way he gritted his teeth and stood up was indeed worthy of being pointed at as a tough nut.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He leaned his stomach and chest against the countertop. The hole pulsed, seeking the dick.

“I have to repay the favor I received.”

Kwon Hyuk flipped him over and sat him down. Spreading his limply dangling legs wide, he tucked them into his sides and pushed his dick back into the reddened, ripe hole. Red blood oozed from both knees.

“Heeut!”

Min Isak threw his head back. Inside the restroom, barely cooled by the air conditioning unit, heat rushed to the top of Kwon Hyuk’s head.

“Namgung Tree, you mean the Namgung Tree who’s active in New York?”

“Th-that’s right.”

“Lee Yanghee has no need to feel aggrieved about being unfairly dismissed. What’s the problem with Kim Chunja handing her own gallery over to her own son?”

He spouted off as he pleased, thrusting his hips like a dog. He was truly a social butterfly. It was news that Min Isak himself had heard directly from Printemps Kim just yesterday.

Namgung Tree was one of the young Korean artists making a name for himself both at home and abroad. He had graduated from the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design (abbreviated as RISD) and gained popularity with a unique painting style that combined cartoons and realism. It was a fact not well-known because he had been active overseas ever since graduating from university, but he was the third son of Gallery Spring’s owner, Madame Printemps Kim.

“I suppose… ugh, that’s right. Director Lee Yanghee, doesn’t seem, to think so, though.”

“What Chief Curator Min thinks is important. He’s the one you’ll be serving from now on.”

“Is there, anything for me to think about.”

“He was born in ‘9X, right? Aren’t you two the same age?”

“Is that, so?”

Min Isak feigned ignorance about Namgung Tree. A thick layer of ridicule was smeared across Kwon Hyuk’s voice as he pointed out they were the same age.

“Will it be awkward?”

He was about to retort, Aren’t you hoping it will be awkward? Instead, as if telling him to just shut up and cum already, he wrapped his legs around Kwon Hyuk’s torso and squeezed his butt.

“Uh, ugh!”

Kwon Hyuk made a comical face and trembled his hips.

“Hah, fuck. …I cummed.”

Having ejaculated at an unexpected moment, he shook his head. Did I really become a premature ejaculator? Without even a moment to enjoy the afterglow of ejaculation, his penis began to shrivel. Before the condom could become loose, he pulled himself out of Min Isak.

Min Isak looked at his dick and frowned.

“I told you I have to return to the office.”

From the condom barely clinging to the tip of his dick, whitish semen was leaking out bit by bit. The oil-based hand cream used as a substitute for lubricant had ended up putting a hole in the condom. Kwon Hyuk, looking furtively, took off the condom and threw it into the trash can.

A pissed-off Min Isak shot a glare at Kwon Hyuk. In time with his breathing, white fluid also squelched out of his hole.

“Don’t be angry. I’ll clean you up.”

Min Isak glared at him for a moment, then spread his legs wide. Kwon Hyuk picked up a white towel from a rattan basket next to the sink and wet it with water.

“Do it properly. It’ll be a problem if it gets on my clothes and leaves a smell.”

“Stop being angry. We both enjoyed ourselves. If this happens next time, Chief Curator Min should bring some water-based gel.”

“…I should hope there is no next time.”

Kwon Hyuk wrung out the wet towel. The touch of his damp hand wiping between his thighs and buttocks, and his limp penis, was exceptionally meticulous. Breathe out. He pushed his ring finger into the hole and rolled it around.

Although it had torn, because he had worn a condom, there was not much semen inside. Kwon Hyuk wiped his hand on the towel and blew, hoo. He held the finger he had poked into the hole in front of his eyes and rubbed it, as if to show nothing was left.

“Ugh.”

That was enough to express his disgust. Min Isak promptly got down from the countertop and began to put on the clothes he had taken off. In the meantime, Kwon Hyuk used another towel to wipe the traces of their transaction from his fly.

“I heard he’s from Korea National Art Prodigy High School. Didn’t you go there too, Chief Curator Min?”

The hand tightening his belt paused.

“…That’s correct.”

“Do you know the new director?”

“…”

Min Isak did not answer.

Korea National Art Prodigy High School. Aka Hanmiyeong, it was the oldest art high school in the Republic of Korea. Since they only accepted exactly forty students a year, if they had entered in the same year, it was impossible not to know each other. Min Isak’s face turned bright red with shame. It was more shameful than when he had seen himself being fucked by Kwon Hyuk in the mirror.

“…Is that important?”

He barely managed to open his mouth and squeeze out his voice.

“He is the new director, so isn’t it enough for me to do my duty as a subordinate?”

His tone was sharp.

Same age. High school classmate. While one person considers it a personal sacrifice and sells his ass to solidify his position, another, thanks to being a famous artist and his parents, shoves his ass into the director’s seat without shedding a drop of blood. The answer was in his glaring face.

“I asked a pointless question. The answer is obvious.”

Like Lee Yanghee, curators are a tribe that lives on their love for art and their pride in it. Min Isak was no exception, though the way he protected his pride was different. An embarrassed Kwon Hyuk shrugged. Min Isak adjusted his clothes, looking neater than when he had come in.

“See you next time. Don’t forget to call if you need help.”

“I won’t be calling you, Professor.”

“So heartless. Tsk.”

“…Hut, Professor?”

Kwon Hyuk grabbed Min Isak by the scruff of his neck. As it happened, the material of his clothes was prone to stretching, so he was dragged along just as Kwon Hyuk led him. Min Isak could not resist Kwon Hyuk, who was about a head taller and stronger than him.

“Professor Kwon…”

Kwon Hyuk pulled down the turtleneck that covered more than half of his neck and kissed his long, slender neck. Min Isak swallowed his annoyance and narrowed his eyes. He had a habit of sucking on his neck after sex, leaving a mark. Thinking he would be fine if he did not expose his neck, he had worn a turtleneck in the middle of an August summer, but it was no use.

“This is instead of a kiss.”

A mark that looked like it was from a blood-sucking mosquito was left behind. Kwon Hyuk ruffled Min Isak’s hair.

“You should get going.”

“You… you shouldn’t be like that. …I’m really going.”

Min Isak glanced at his wristwatch and waved his hand as if shooing a fly. Kwon Hyuk left the restroom without looking back. He looked just as neat and professional as when he had entered.

“Haa… son of a bitch.”

He muttered, leaning his hips against the countertop where they had played so filthily. Min Isak could not tell if the curse was for himself or for Kwon Hyuk. Perhaps it was meant for all three of them, including Namgung Tree.

“Oop.”

Nausea suddenly rose up. He covered his mouth with his hand and ran to a toilet stall, shoving his head into the toilet bowl.

“Uuulp! Uweeck.”

He gagged.

It was a frequent occurrence after having sex as a transaction. All he had eaten and drunk all day was the non-alcoholic champagne from the lobby. His esophagus hurt as if it were being ripped to shreds. Something was surging up, but it was stuck somewhere in his throat and showed no sign of coming out.

He shoved his fingers down his throat.