JKA 1

It was as if he had tripped and fallen right in front of an escape route. Jiwoon’s hand, stretched out pathetically, scratched at the cheap, gapped decorative tiles, and his trembling knees repeatedly gave out, sliding and trying to get up again.

Midday sunlight poured through the large window that took up half of one wall in the small studio apartment, and the head of the fan standing in front of it would occasionally shudder with a clatter as it rotated.

Mid-April. The room was stuffy from the premature heat. When he was twenty, just after he had moved to Seoul from Busan for college, Jiwoon’s parents had stood before that window, pleased with how much sunlight it let in.

The monthly rent was 150,000 won more than the nearby semi-basement apartment, but the only difference was the existence of that window. No, the size was a little different too. The semi-basement at least had a separate kitchen and room. The bathroom seemed a bit more spacious than this one as well. But Jiwoon’s parents had chosen this room. A person needs to live in the sun, they had said. That was the only reason.

The room was so small that a slightly large single bed, a desk, and a small wardrobe filled it completely. The inside of the air conditioner, when he’d peeked under its fins, was full of black mold, so he’d spent another 150,000 won to call someone to clean it. Thanks to that, the air from the air conditioner no longer had a musty smell, but instead, something must have been loosely fitted, because it sometimes leaked water.

He had lived like that for a little over a year. It was more than enough time for the once-empty room to become cluttered and messy. Delivery containers were piled up like a mountain on the kitchen counter, which was too cramped to cook on, and in front of the washing machine below it, a pile of laundry sat like some kind of tomb.

Empty plastic bottles rolled around on the floor like pebbles on a street, and on the desk, instead of books, empty cans of beer, soda, or energy drinks stood in the gaps like Tetris blocks. That was what Jiwoon’s studio was like. An ordinary, yet slightly dirtier than average, room. That was all.

“Ah, ngh!”

A red mark formed on his forearm, pressed down because he was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt due to the hot weather. With all the strength gone from his body, Jiwoon’s upper half suddenly pitched forward toward the floor, and he ended up hitting his head painfully. His messily long hair spilled forward, completely exposing the nape of his neck.

Jiwoon blinked his eyes at the view, sporadically obscured by his disheveled hair, and shivered. Why does it always have to turn out like this, the thought was fleeting as his hips were forcefully lifted by the hands of the man who was relentlessly rutting against him.

His ass, slathered stickily with gel and turned into a mire, bumped against the man’s crotch, making a lewd sound that was impossible to describe. The penis that had aggressively invaded him, as if digging into the open hole, was relentlessly and furiously quickening, as if desperate to reach deeper.

“Stop, I have… to go to class….”

A laugh from the man behind him followed Jiwoon’s sobbing voice. The low voice made the hair on Jiwoon’s neck stand on end.

“Bullshit… since when were you so diligent.”

The man, who had mumbled as if he knew everything, had only barely taken off his pants and underwear. He grabbed Jiwoon’s panting hips and pulled him tight against himself once more. The man’s blue eyes were cold as he looked down at the thin body being dragged powerlessly toward him.

The penis parting the small buttocks was merciless. The man slammed his cock into the slick inner walls as if driving a steel stake, then gently stroked the area around Jiwoon’s spine, a furrowed groove in the center of his lower back, with his thumb. At the sensation that made his body tremble to the point of going numb, Jiwoon’s tightly clenched red lips parted, and he unknowingly let out a moan.

“Hngh, good… ah. Ah! Nngh!”

At that sight, the man, with a satisfied expression, pulled out his still grotesquely swollen member. Jiwoon let out a pained sound and collapsed. Curled up like a shrimp and lying on his side, his face was as red as a carrot.

The man, unable to cum, pulled off the condom covering his stiffly raised penis and stood up. It was a stark contrast to Jiwoon’s own penis, which was limp from having come so much that a condom was barely clinging to it.

The man walked around freely with his lower half hanging out, his sweatpants pulled down. The room was now free of the plastic containers swarming with fruit flies over leftover food, and the grave-like pile of laundry was gone, but for some reason, it seemed unbearably small for the large man.

He took out a wet wipe, wiped his cock clean, and pulled his pants straight up—a sight that was not particularly pleasant, with his front bulging out. The man then strode over to the collapsed Jiwoon, squatted down in front of him, and spoke.

“Your clothes are clean, right?”

“…”

“I told you, I don’t mind not coming. This thing is practically just attached for your sake.”

“…”

“You act like you don’t want it, but you’re dying of pleasure.”

Jiwoon could only roll his eyes to glare at the smiling man. The man, who spoke in a taunting, hateful way, skillfully cleaned Jiwoon up as if he had done it a hundred times before. Jiwoon couldn’t hold back his pained moans as the man removed the condom, messy with milky fluid, and roughly wiped his limp penis with a wet wipe.

After neatly dressing him again, not just in underwear but pants too, and even wiping the sweat from his neck and forehead, the man gave him a bright smile. His face was so harmless, so kind, that it looked as if it were drawn.

“I’ll pack a pair of panties in your bag, so change into them later. You’re leaking so much I’m wondering if I should plug you up.”

From the front and the back. The man who added this, absurdly enough, acted as if it were his own house and naturally packed Jiwoon’s underwear into the bag for him. Finally managing to sit up, Jiwoon found the entire situation simply ridiculous. Even after realizing that this had been his reality for a whole three months.

The man helped Jiwoon, who was laughing hollowly as if he’d lost his mind a little, to his feet and pushed him toward the shoe rack. With a dazed expression, Jiwoon habitually put on his shoes and was seen off by the man.

“Now that you’ve charged up on happiness for the day, go listen to your lecture well.”

With those words, the door closed with a thud. Jiwoon, abandoned in the hallway, looked down at the bag he didn’t know when he had come to be holding, then muttered toward the closed door.

“…Crazy bastard.”

‘An angel lives in my house.’

An angel, my ass. Jiwoon’s face, as if recalling a cockroach, unconsciously scrunched into a frown. There was no strength in his legs as he trudged toward campus. A sex-crazed lovebug of a bastard. It was clear that calling not just Cexco, but Sexco too, would be of no help.

Jiwoon’s studio was located on a rather high hill. It was close to the university, but its drawback was the somewhat steep incline. In the mornings, college students with tired faces would emerge from between the studio apartment buildings clustered together like barnacles. Since every one of them was looking down at their cell phones with sour expressions, no one would find it strange that he was walking a bit slowly down the hill.

Well, Jiwoon wasn’t a particularly noticeable person in general. His clothes were always a T-shirt and jeans, with a couple of plaid shirts he wore in rotation, so one might mistake him for an engineering student. In any case, he didn’t look like someone who would be getting it on with someone first thing in the morning. Furthermore, one would never imagine him presenting his ass to another man and moaning in pleasure.

But who’s to say what such a person looks like, and what they don’t? Humans, if you peel back just one layer, are a species worse than beasts. In that respect, Myeong Jiwoon could also be said to be close to that kind of species. It meant he wasn’t in a position to simply curse that crazy angel. Though he’d die before admitting it.

Just as he finally made it down the steep hill and reached the main road, a middle-aged woman sweeping in front of a real estate office with a broom called out to him. At her greeting, Jiwoon, who had been frowning, stiffened and awkwardly bowed his head.

“Oh my, good timing. On your way to school?”

“Yes, yes.”

As Jiwoon stood at a hesitant distance and spoke, Ms. Yoon, the real estate agent and his landlady, strode up to him and unleashed a torrent of nagging.

“Goodness, aren’t you hot? Can you even see? Cut your bangs. You’re at that age to be, you know, dating and all. Isn’t it a waste? Your parents worry, you know, sending their one and only son all the way to Seoul to study.”

Ms. Yoon, who seemed displeased with Jiwoon’s shaggy hair, rattled on with her unwelcome nagging before finally putting down her broom and bringing up what she had wanted to say when she saw him.

“Sorry to stop you when you’re in a hurry, but I just wanted to ask one thing. Um, I’ve been getting texts day and night lately about the building being noisy. Do you know anything? Like if one room in particular is being loud.”

“I, I don’t really….”

At Ms. Yoon’s words, the sound of a wall being slammed, thump, bang, flashed in Jiwoon’s mind, but he feigned ignorance. The source of the noise was likely his own place. Because not a single day had been quiet since that man had arrived.

“You know how sound travels through the walls. The next-door neighbors are thumping, but it sounds like it’s the upstairs neighbors. All studio buildings are like that. Seriously, managing just one building is this tiring.”

“…”

“I’m asking because I know you’re a quiet person, Jiwoon. The culprit must be one of the other units. Finals are just around the corner, they should be studying for their exams, but I guess there are students gathering to drink again.”

As Ms. Yoon started to lament as if she’d finally gotten her chance, Jiwoon thought he might really arrive after his lecture was over, so he spoke up with difficulty.

“Um, but my class….”

“Oh, right, right. Go on.”

Ms. Yoon hurriedly stepped back, waving her hand, but then called out again to Jiwoon as he walked past her.

“Jiwoon! Um, do you have a friend living with you these days?”

“…”

“You know you can’t have a friend live with you, right? How can two people live in that tiny place… but if you do, you have to pay more for utilities. Water and electricity are included, you know.”

“He’s, he’s my cousin!”

Startled, Jiwoon didn’t know what to do as he listened to Ms. Yoon, then hurriedly spoke as if making an excuse.

“He, he was just curious about how I was living. He lives nearby, so he just comes over during the day for a bit to clean. That’s all.”

“…Really? You don’t seem to resemble each other much.”

Jiwoon felt a cold sweat run down his back. It seemed Ms. Yoon had met that bastard who had taken up residence in his home. Damn it. For an uninvited guest, he should have at least stayed hidden. Jiwoon bit his lower lip.

Seeing Jiwoon fidgeting with his hands and biting his lip, Ms. Yoon let out an awkward laugh and spoke as if making an excuse.

“No, I don’t mean you’re lacking or anything, it’s just that your cousin is so strikingly handsome.”

It seemed Ms. Yoon had misunderstood, thinking Jiwoon believed he was being compared based on his looks. Jiwoon was simply unhappy with the various situations that had arisen because of that one crazy bastard. The noise problem, and many other things.

“Don’t misunderstand, okay?”

Since anything he said here would clearly sound like a lame excuse, Jiwoon just nodded and said, “Yes.” There was truly not a single thing he liked. Not a single thing at all. It had been nice to leave home and live alone, but that was really it.

He really should have insisted on the semi-basement apartment and lived there instead. If he had, a crazy bastard like that would have never shown up, and he would have never fallen for Ms. Yoon’s trick of revealing his studio at the very end, as if playing a trump card.

“…How can I be happy?”