Struggle Chapter 118

The difference in build between Nanyoung and Taerok was such that it would make any onlooker rather uneasy, and Taerok’s sexual tastes, when it came to Nanyoung, were considerably debauched. If someone were to bore a hole through the paper sliding door with a spit-moistened finger and steal a glance, it would be a sight that would make them recoil in disgust, shake their head, and leave. So how exhausted must Nanyoung, the one directly involved, be?

Taerok caressed Nanyoung’s entrance.

“Hi, hiik.”

Startled, Nanyoung ducked his head deeply and trembled down his spine. But Taerok’s gaze was stern, as if urging him on.

The entrance was not yet severely swollen. They could mingle more.

“Or shall you lie down? Your uncle can do it for you, of course.”

“N-no.”

Nanyoung shook his head in fright. Then, whimpering, he began rocking his hips again.

A sublime sight. Taerok narrowed his eyes and pinched Nanyoung’s nipples. Then, unable to resist, he raised his upper body and devotedly sucked on Nanyoung’s nipples. He hadn’t yet prepared the ring for the stud, but he intended to enlarge them so that a ring could be fastened at any time. Nanyoung probably thought it was mere teasing, but Taerok was entirely in earnest. He wanted to create an unremovable ring so that wherever Nanyoung went, he could be found, and hang it from Nanyoung’s nipples, his earlobes, wherever he pleased.

“Ha-uh, ah!”

“How lewd.”

Nanyoung seemed not to know himself well, but he had a secretly wanton nature. Even now, he was subtly thrusting out his chest, making it easier for his nipples to be sucked.

“Ah, no. That’s not it. Lie back down.”

But at those words, Nanyoung instead came to his senses and pushed Taerok back down. Then, grunting, he shifted his position.

“Hi, it’s hard.”

The trick he employed while making pained sounds was to reach his hands back, brace himself on Taerok’s legs, and lean his body backward.

The sublime sight ripened once more. If this were truly a posture created without any calculation, Taerok wanted to strip Nanyoung completely bare and keep him from going anywhere. Between his splayed legs, his prettily erect member, its skin peeled back, was flushed and wet. He was the one who had peeled back that skin as well. It was a member made by his own hands.

“Quickly, move.”

Excitement shot up to the very crown of his head. Taerok growled and urged him on. In response, his knees rose like mountains. Thanks to that, Nanyoung’s body was propped up a little, and using Taerok as a support, he began to move.

“Ha-uh!”

Saliva trickled from Nanyoung’s parted lips. He couldn’t even open his eyes properly. Taerok’s own arousal heightened at the obscene sight he would never forget even in death. The image of Nanyoung, with Taerok’s jacket draped over his shoulders, thrusting out his chest in pleasure and shaking his body, was something he wished he could preserve forever if possible.

“Hook, huh.”

Taerok’s breathing also grew rough, like a beast’s. Nanyoung couldn’t open his eyes properly, and even when his eyelids occasionally lifted, his eyeballs seemed about to roll back as he clutched his belly. One hand still held Taerok’s leg, while the other wrapped around his stomach, grasping the part that bulged in and out.

“Ah, it hurts. Ah, here, ah, ut. Your, Uncle’s thing, hut, feels like it’s going to come out… ahh…!”

Taerok covered Nanyoung’s hand. Then, sneering at the grip that had less strength than a baby’s touch, he pressed down firmly.

He pressed Nanyoung’s palm covering his belly downward, and at the same time, thrust what was inside deeper and harder. There was a soft yet firm wall, but Taerok pushed past even that.

“Hoo, hoo-uh, huh-ahh…!”

Nanyoung twisted his body, letting out a scream-like moan. As he twisted, Nanyoung’s quivering member spurted, spurted out fluid.

Taerok did not stop there.

He grabbed Nanyoung’s body, which had gone limp right after releasing, and moved him himself. Then he too diligently thrust up, pounding, and the inner wall he had pushed into repeatedly clenched and released below his glans. Each time, Nanyoung’s groin trembled, and at last, after letting out a moan that sounded like a dying breath—”Huh… hnnk…”—he ended up releasing clear urine.

“Hoook…!”

Taerok did not avoid it. Far from avoiding it, he was wholly absorbed in barely pulling the head of his cock out from the inner wall gripping his glans, and ejaculating where the back passage closed. If he had ejaculated deeper inside, cleaning would have been terribly difficult, so it was fortunate he had regained some reason at the very end.

With a pop, Taerok’s member slid out. As he lifted Nanyoung’s limp body slightly, what Taerok had spilled came gushing out in thick globs down Nanyoung’s thighs. Only when it soaked even his own lower belly did Taerok realize that Nanyoung had urinated on his stomach.

“Dear me.”

He worried only about the bedding and was not at all troubled by this matter. He tried to limit such intense lovemaking to roughly once a month, but whenever those once-a-month occasions gathered three times, one out of three times Nanyoung would lose control of his bladder like this.

Knowing it was his own fault, Taerok was unperturbed. Not apologizing, and reflecting on it only to resolve not to be gentler next time—even that was very much like him. Taerok deftly flipped the bedding, gathered Nanyoung into a bundle in his arms, and headed for the washroom. No one would ever believe that the very same Grand Prince Baegan, once called the cold-blooded Grand Prince, had somehow become quite proficient at preliminary laundry.

∞ ∞ ∞

After that, Nanyoung did not speak of going to the capital separately, and Taerok did not ask either.

However, Nanyoung seemed to have resolved to spend the long winter learning pastimes from the women working in Taerok’s residence. Together with Sim Eung, he did knot work, losing track of how many pieces he had ruined. He seemed to have good dexterity and learned quickly, but he would often unravel something he was displeased with and start anew.

Taerok, beside him, merely maintained his falconry equipment and asked nothing.

And one day when the snow had ceased, Taerok was training a young falcon to return to him.

“Uncle.”

Wearing a winter cap and a scarf wrapped around him, Nanyoung approached with soft, crunching footsteps.

“I’d like to try as well.”

“What?”

Taerok asked without looking back, biting his index and middle fingers to produce a sharp whistling sound. Then he took raw meat from the leather pouch at his waist, and the returning falcon alighted on Taerok’s falconry glove. The talons gripping the glove were exceedingly hard and sharp. When he gave it the raw meat, it tore and swallowed it in an instant.

“I’d like to try receiving it on my arm once.”

Taerok looked back at Nanyoung.

No matter how well he was fed and how much he moved about, his body, which fell ill and wasted away every season, seemed like a sapling—as if it might snap if a falcon perched on it.

Yet without a word of protest, Taerok raised his arm, sent the falcon flying off, and then removed his falconry glove, handing it over. He approached Nanyoung from behind, just as Nanyoung had put it on his right hand as Taerok had done.

“Those talons could cut into your arm, so wear it securely.”

Though Nanyoung thought he would stand alone, his arm was held by Taerok’s hand. His body, too, stood pressed close against him.

“Do you know how to whistle?”

“I can do it.”

Nanyoung bit his index and middle fingers as Taerok had done and made a sharp whistling sound.

Then the falcon, which had been soaring through the open sky, plunged downward. One might question how something descending could be described as plunging, but it truly appeared that way.

It was far faster than he had expected. Taerok took meat from the pouch at his waist and had Nanyoung hold it. Then he pressed his own body even more firmly against Nanyoung.

“Uh, uht!”

Because it flew so lightly, Nanyoung had thought its weight would be like a feather. But the moment the falcon landed on his arm, Nanyoung staggered badly. If Taerok had not supported him, he would certainly have fallen backward. It was that powerful and heavy. The grip of the talons squeezing his arm tightly was also tremendous.

“Ut…!”

“I am supporting you.”

Spurred on by Taerok’s calm words, Nanyoung planted his legs firmly. When he barely managed to stand, he saw the falcon tilting its head and staring straight at him. With its handsome eyes and steel-like beak, Nanyoung unknowingly became spellbound.

“The meat. You must give it its reward.”

Taerok whispered. Only then did Nanyoung feed it the piece of meat he was holding. A very small whisper—mind your hand—followed, melting Nanyoung’s heart.

The raw meat vanished in an instant. Taerok placed a leather hood over the falcon’s head. Then, carefully, he guided Nanyoung so he could transfer the falcon to the perch.

“How was it.”