Struggle Chapter 64

By now, Nanyoung’s legs, which had come down from Taerok’s shoulders to his waist, dangled limply. Watching them dangle behind Lee Taerok’s back, Nanyoung felt dazed—were those even his legs? His uncle’s thighs were as solid as stones and as thick as ancient trees. No matter how much Nanyoung scratched at them with his own hands, it seemed he could never leave a single mark.

“Ah! Aaah!”

At some point, Nanyoung had stopped saying “don’t” or pleading—he simply gasped out dazed moans. The hands held by Taerok alternated between spreading open and clenching shut. Taerok licked Nanyoung’s chest, where scratch marks from his own fingernails remained. He licked the traces of self-harm, and devotedly sucked on the nipples that were flushed a deep pink like his member.

“Huuuuugh!”

Then Nanyoung would gasp. His insides would clench tightly in short breaths, and Taerok frowned.

He couldn’t fit all of it in. A third of Taerok’s cock remained outside, cooling.

“If my nephew were to grow… as much as my age… would he take all of me in…?”

Even at Taerok’s question, Nanyoung couldn’t answer. It was hard enough just to hold onto his consciousness, which kept flickering dimly beyond his eyelids.

Seeing Nanyoung’s lips twitching continuously, Taerok bowed his head. When even that wasn’t enough to hear him, he tilted his ear until it touched Nanyoung’s lips—and Nanyoung bit down hard.

“Ugh…!”

Even as he frowned, Taerok didn’t pull his face away. Instead, taking advantage of the momentary slackening of strength in his hands, Nanyoung slipped his own hands free. Then he wrapped them around Taerok’s body and pulled him closer.

Only then did Taerok hear what Nanyoung was muttering.

“Please undo the front…”

He could hear the wheezing, high-pitched breaths. It was the sound Nanyoung used to make as a child when his nose was blocked or he had difficulty breathing. Taerok closed his eyes and found himself recalling the faint milky scent that used to come from the young Nanyoung.

His heart softened.

As if pushed by that feeling, Taerok lowered his hand. Nanyoung’s member was hot and hard. Taerok untied the cord that Nanyoung had struggled to undo with both hands.

“D-Did you undo it…?”

Nanyoung asked, his voice tearful. He seemed out of his senses—he was using informal speech. Taerok didn’t scold him, but answered.

“Yes. I undid it.”

“Then why, why… won’t it come out?”

His chest heaved with sobs as if he were deeply aggrieved. If he started hiccupping now, it would be troublesome. Taerok pressed Nanyoung’s chest hard against his own sternum, making them share their breath. Then he moved his hips slowly. With each undulating motion of his waist—like a fish swimming through water—Nanyoung’s member rubbed against Taerok’s clearly defined abdominal muscles.

“Will it come out like this?”

Taerok asked in a suggestive voice.

“Ah, ah…”

Nanyoung closed his eyes and let out only incomprehensible moans, like someone delirious with fever.

“Does it seem like you’ll come like this?”

“Mm, mm-hmm…”

“If you can’t come… I suppose your uncle will have to suck it out for you.”

“Mmm…”

“Nanyoung. Is that a yes or a no?”

Taerok chuckled lowly. Instead of an ambiguous answer, Nanyoung wrapped his legs around Taerok’s waist. His thighs touched both Taerok’s thighs and his waist. Because Taerok was curled over him, holding him close, Nanyoung’s head and torso were completely hidden, with only his thighs barely visible.

The sight of those pink-flushed thighs rubbing against Taerok’s bronze skin was indescribably obscene.

Taerok grew excited by Nanyoung’s action of rubbing his thighs against him. “Ah…” he breathed out a low moan—a moan filled with satisfaction.

“Ah, ah… I think I’m… going to come…”

At that satisfaction, Taerok’s hip movements grew faster and more forceful. Though he couldn’t fit all of himself in, every time Taerok drove in with a thud, thud, Nanyoung’s lower belly jolted. And the lower portion that hadn’t been able to enter was gradually, bit by bit, being swallowed as well.

“Ah, ah…”

Nanyoung rubbed his face frantically against Taerok’s shoulder. His face was burning. Everything beneath his skin was boiling with heat. His fingertips raked wildly down Taerok’s spine—as if scratching there would also relieve his own itch.

But it didn’t.

Every time his back burned with the scratches, Taerok drove up into Nanyoung. And every time Taerok thrust up like that, Nanyoung felt as if something that had solidified like a lump inside him during the time he couldn’t come was finally about to release from his member.

Tears welled up. He felt like he was going mad. With choking, gasping sounds, Nanyoung finally threw his head back. An immense sense of elation and a sensation of falling came at once. To hold on, Nanyoung scratched Taerok’s spine hard—and Taerok squeezed his eyes shut and came.

“Aaaaaah…!”

It happened almost simultaneously.

Only Taerok’s volume was far greater. Without withdrawing from inside Nanyoung, Taerok twitched his hips as if to empty every last drop inside him, not leaving a single one.

Nanyoung, having held back for so long, was in pain down to the very root. He sobbed as he came, burying his face in Taerok’s shoulder and repeatedly biting and gnawing at him.

Far from stopping him, Taerok instead pulled Nanyoung’s head closer and pressed him harder against his own shoulder.

“Haaah, huff. Hah, ngh…”

By the time Taerok finished ejaculating, Nanyoung felt as if he was about to collapse backward. When Taerok pulled his upper body away, a long string of saliva stretched from the bite marks Nanyoung had left, then broke.

Taerok first withdrew his member from between Nanyoung’s legs. He clicked his tongue.

“If you leak everything out after just one time, what will you do after three, four times, or more?”

He clicked his tongue because all the seed he had fed into Nanyoung was dripping out uselessly. Taerok gathered the flowing fluid and pushed it back into Nanyoung. Each time, the dry arch of his foot twitched.

“Nanyoung, this thing…”

Just as Taerok was about to tell him to hold it inside well, he saw Nanyoung’s face and frowned.

“Lee Nanyoung.”

“Ha, ugh…”

Exhausted and spent, Nanyoung found even Taerok’s voice bothersome. He waved his hand, wanting to say just leave me be, don’t touch me anymore, don’t commit treason either—but he couldn’t even muster the voice to say it.

Taerok abruptly pulled Nanyoung’s arm.

“Just… leave me… be…”

Nanyoung, who just wanted to collapse and fall asleep, let out something like a whine.

But Taerok propped Nanyoung’s back against his own legs and made him drop his head forward.

“Ah…”

Only then did Nanyoung understand why Taerok had been so startled.

From beneath his lowered head, blood dripped down—drip, drip. A salty, fishy taste filled his lips as well. When Nanyoung dazedly tried to touch beneath his nose, Taerok swatted his hand away.

“Leave it so it doesn’t flow down the back of your throat.”

“I was going to… wipe it with my hand.”

“…”

“The blanket will get dirty…”

“The blanket is already dirty.”

Taerok didn’t even care that it was a valuable bedcover; he pulled it over and wiped beneath Nanyoung’s nose, then pressed down gently.

Nanyoung lifted his head slightly and looked at Taerok. His uncle didn’t seem like the same person who had been tormenting him so cruelly and lewdly just moments ago. He wore the exact same expression Nanyoung remembered—somewhat incredulous, somewhat irritated.

“You get a nosebleed from just this much?”

“…”

Was this just “this much” to you, Uncle?

Instead of answering, Nanyoung looked at his own trembling knees.

He also saw Taerok’s arm pressing his nose. There were scratch marks on it. When did those appear?—as he wondered, he felt a dull ache beneath his fingernails. They had grown only the slightest bit, yet he had used them to scratch Taerok’s back raw, where the blood had now dried.

“Is it… painful… because of me?”

Taerok, hearing the nasal voice, looked at his own arm that Nanyoung was staring at.

His arm was not the problem. His back was stinging quite a bit. But this wasn’t an injury either. Whining about pain from just this much was something he had graduated from thirty years ago. Lee Nanyoung hadn’t even been born yet—there were still over ten years until he would be.

When Taerok didn’t answer, Nanyoung felt a little disappointed. He could at least say it hurts a little.

“It must hurt. Because of me. Someday, I’ll make myself hurt because of me…”

“You’re drunk, Lee Nanyoung. Saying things like you’ll make your elder hurt.”

“But you hurt me, Uncle…”

“If your uncle hurt you, then you’re the only pervert in the world who gets excited by pain.”

“…”

“But since we’re already blood-related anyway, what’s there to fear about merely becoming a pervert? Don’t you agree?”