Struggle Chapter 70

“Unless you come closer to eat, I might accidentally slit the corner of your mouth, nephew.”

“…”

“I’d rather it be my cock that slits the corner of your mouth, not a knife, so hurry up and come take it.”

Nanyoung felt that the new sides of Taerok he had witnessed since last night were more numerous than everything he had learned about him over twenty years. It felt as though he might choke on it.

When Nanyoung approached and opened his mouth, Taerok pushed the fruit flesh from the knife into it with his hand, then, as if by accident, brushed the inside of his mouth. It was warm. He needed to feed him and put him to bed.

“Ah.”

He didn’t stop at one. Taerok waited for Nanyoung to finish chewing, then offered another.

“Aren’t you going to have any, Uncle?”

“I’ll take care of myself.”

He answered indifferently and flicked his wrist. Juice dripped from the bones of his hand. Nanyoung watched, then took another piece.

“…”

As he cut the rest into pieces, Taerok seemed bothered by the juice wetting his hand. He twisted his knife-wielding wrist and licked his hand from base to tip with his tongue. Though it was an absentminded gesture, Nanyoung recalled the vivid scene of that tongue licking his entrance and trembled down his spine.

So Nanyoung moved to prevent Taerok from doing such things, even carelessly.

“What are you…”

Taerok, who had frowned at Nanyoung suddenly approaching so dangerously, closed his mouth. Nanyoung, ignoring the exposed knife, rolled up Taerok’s sleeves.

“It’s precious silk.”

Instead of saying that his tongue was too embarrassing to look at, he offered the excuse he had prepared in advance.

“Sim Eung said this kind of silk is very difficult to wash.”

“…”

Taerok raised an eyebrow.

Nanyoung, cautiously gauging his reaction, rolled up the sleeves and then quickly moved away again.

Coming close at will and then pulling away—he was quite skilled at it. Taerok muttered in a sighing voice.

“Fortunately, you’re a Grand Prince.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. By the way, do you still meet with that Third Son of the Deputy Commander?”

“…”

“So you do meet him.”

Reading the answer from Nanyoung’s silence, Taerok made a displeased face. Then he put the fruit flesh on the knife into his own mouth, while pushing the pre-cut pieces into Nanyoung’s mouth with his hand. Pressing firmly against his lips, mashing the fruit—even though Nanyoung was already quite full, he had no choice but to accept it.

“What do you talk about when you meet?”

“…We didn’t say much.”

Just from the way he averted his gaze, it was clear they had said plenty.

Taerok wiped his hands with a towel moistened with fragrant oil.

“Did he ask what your relationship with your uncle is?”

The question, like a muttered aside, struck home.

When Nanyoung whirled around, Taerok smiled a twisted smile.

“I thought he was clueless, but it seems he’s not.”

“…”

“If he knows too, there’s no need to hide it.”

“Why is there no need to hide it!”

Nanyoung shook his head frantically in protest.

“We h-have to hide it. To the grave.”

“…”

“If my brother finds out, I, I absolutely cannot…”

Watching Nanyoung unconsciously gnawing at his fingernails, Taerok’s gaze was profoundly deep.

Even knowing that wasn’t the case, Taerok momentarily wondered if Nanyoung was fond of his brother. Unlike when he had pressed Nanyoung, saying you were the one who seduced me first with your longing, his own heart lacked conviction. As if it wasn’t Nanyoung who craved affection, but rather Taerok himself.

“I hadn’t realized, nephew, but are you quite greedy?”

So Taerok, unbecoming of his age, sneered.

“You want to stop treason, and you want to hide our relationship. It seems you’d like everything in the world to go your way—fulfilling your lust while keeping your loyal heart intact.”

“L-lust is…”

“Isn’t it?”

Taerok propped his chin on his elbow over his thigh.

“If it isn’t, I’d be disappointed…”

He coaxed Nanyoung slowly, as if laying a trap and waiting.

“So you were panting just because you liked me, then.”

Nanyoung averted his gaze and muttered.

“…If you would just change your mind, Uncle, this would all be over.”

“If I don’t change it.”

“…”

“If I live my entire life harboring treasonous intent, what will you do then?”

Even though it was no laughing matter, Taerok was joking—and Nanyoung, annoyed, shot back.

“Eventually, I’ll have to marry, won’t I?”

Taerok snorted.

“Even if you marry, nephew, you’ll still have to come to me.”

He crawled toward Nanyoung as if waiting for him. He was unashamed to crawl on all fours like a beast. And when he reached Nanyoung, he pressed him down as if pouncing. Nanyoung, barely holding himself up on his elbows, felt his heart pound beneath the shadow that covered him.

“When I call, you must come. Whether it’s your wedding night or any other time.”

“W-what kind of thing is that? Do you really want to do that to your own nephew…?”

After having already lain with his uncle, asking if he wanted to do that to his nephew. It seemed Lee Nanyoung still saw himself as something insubstantial. How can you ask that? Taerok wanted to do far worse.

Taerok wanted to break Nanyoung.

Instead of answering, he lowered himself onto Nanyoung.

“Aaah…!”

As Nanyoung fell back, Taerok pressed his ear to his chest.

“It pounds like this just from touching me.”

He had been caught. Nanyoung held his breath. As if that would quiet his heart. On the contrary, it only beat faster.

“Who will you live with, Nanyoung?”

Taerok murmured as if reciting a verse, and slipped his hand beneath the hem of his clothes. Perhaps because he had dressed himself, the cord fastening his trousers was loose. He undid it easily and reached inside. Without an undergarment, he touched the soft pubic hair and tender flesh of his groin directly.

The chest pressed against him was beating faster and faster. He had a fever. He should lay him down to rest.

But the words of reason echoed only as distant, hollow reverberations, never reaching Taerok.

“Hwaah!”

Nanyoung flinched as if burned. Taerok had grasped his member directly.

“Having tasted a man’s hand first, how could your heart possibly race for a woman? Could you even get it up? It’s utterly absurd.”

Taerok gripped Nanyoung’s member firmly. It would be too intense a stimulation for one so inexperienced. Taerok roughly masturbated him. As the strokes grew faster, Nanyoung turned his head to the side, letting out only wheezing moans.

“Is your backside itchy?”

It was a voice so intimate it tickled not his backside, but his ears.

“Not much time has passed, so you can easily recall how deep your uncle’s thing went inside you yesterday.”

At that voice, Nanyoung was drawn in.

Though it couldn’t be, he felt as if his navel was stirring. The sensation that had reached up to below his navel was vivid. His fever-softened body had completely lost its will to resist. His thighs, which had been tightly clenched, relaxed limply, and Taerok was able to touch Nanyoung’s member more easily.

“That place must be aching—how could you ever ask your wife to thrust there?”

Nanyoung only moved his lips, letting out moans like the sound of coughing—ah… ah…

Taerok wanted to hurt Nanyoung. If he had a betrothed, he wanted to show her this sight. He wanted to drag the Third Son of the Deputy Commander here, make him kneel, and force him to watch. Taerok wanted to lay bare their filthy relationship to the world.

“U-uncle.”

Taerok’s hand had stopped at some point. Because Nanyoung had rolled up his sleeves, the tendons in his forearms were visible, standing out as he fought his impulses.

“Haaah… Un-cle…”

Nanyoung’s hips began to stir.

Taerok, wrenching himself away from the urge to explode at the sensation rubbing against his palm, looked down at Nanyoung. Nanyoung was at a loss, with an anxious expression.

“…Heh.”

He was masturbating against his own hand.

“Nanyoung, you’ve gone mad.”

Taerok breathed out in admiration.

“Hngh…”

Even knowing he was doing something insane, he couldn’t stop. Nanyoung covered his face with his arm. His hips twitched. His body, having just awakened to sexual desire, was frantic and refused to listen to reason.

“You…”

Taerok laughed lowly. His eyes gleamed.

“Aaah! Ah!”

Nanyoung, startled by his trousers being suddenly pulled down, raised his head—then threw it back.

“Huff, ah! Ah! U-uncle. No. Ah, ah, that kind of thing…”

What kind of thing—a royal relative must not do it?

Nanyoung too would have been taught the art of the bedchamber in much the same manner. Dull, formal, and proper.