LLU 55

After getting out of the car, Junghan walked toward the elevator with controlled steps. The gesture of pressing the card key against the pad and then pressing the button for the top floor carried an artificially created air of leisure.

In that short interval, Junghan took out his phone and turned on the CCTV. For the past hour, the child’s appearance had looked extremely unstable. Sitting hunched on the bed, head buried deeply in his knees, he did not lift his head at all.

During the day, aside from seeming a bit dazed, he appeared to be getting by somehow. But the plate that had been deliberately placed in a spot clearly visible on camera was not even half emptied. That alone displeased Junghan so much that he slightly furrowed his brow.

The child always showed this kind of appearance when it was nearing the time for him to come home. If he was even one minute later than the promised time, it became even more pronounced. Staring fixedly at one spot with a gloomy expression, or burying his head deeply in his knees, or lying motionless while facing the wall—like an animal in a narrow zoo enclosure exhibiting abnormal behavior.

In the past, he used to read books readily and watch TV to pass the time. Now he had completely cut off even those amusements. All day long he simply sat blankly, or slowly chewed tiny amounts of food with sluggish movements, or just lay there—that was all.

The bodyguard standing guard at the door bowed his head respectfully. Without taking his eyes off the phone screen connected to the CCTV for even an instant, Junghan deliberately pressed his fingerprint slowly on the keypad. Because he absolutely had to witness the scene he could not afford to miss.

Srrr. At the sound of the front door lock disengaging, on the screen the child—Oon—suddenly jerked his head up. The limp, listless body also sprang to its feet. Watching through the screen as he wandered around the room until the chain around his ankle grew taut, Junghan smiled with satisfaction.

Yes, this was it.

This exact appearance was what he had wanted to see. All day long.

“Hi. Did you spend the day well again today?”

The voice greeting the house while taking off his shoes was drenched in unconcealed satisfaction. From inside the room came only the loud, clanking sound of the chain—no reply.

Imagining the appearance the child would now show him directly made his heart tremble with excitement. Junghan curved his lips and stepped forward.

“You… you fucking bastard, this is different from the promise!”

As expected, the moment he entered the room something came flying at him. Today it was a cushion. Junghan gladly took it on the shoulder and strode fully into the room.

“Why, why are you late! Why! Am I a joke to you? You fucking bastard, is the promise you made with me a joke to you!”

The child’s face, as he wailed and screamed like that, was completely soaked. His pale face was drenched in cold sweat that fully wet his forehead. His tightly bitten lips were torn, with a little blood seeping out—the sight was pitiful beyond measure.

His neck and shoulders, veins bulging, trembled violently from how deeply hurt he felt. Taking in that sight, Junghan firmly pressed down on his wildly pounding heart with his fist. He did not bother hiding the corners of his mouth that kept rising helplessly.

“Calm down. I was only twenty minutes late.”

“You, you said you’d come at eight. You promised that this morning! So I’ve been… fuck, huu… since earlier.”

In the end, Oon could not finish his sentence through his sobs. The sorrow poured fully into the loud crying he let out.

“I waited. All day long, fuck, like a damn dog…! I waited only for eight o’clock. Do you even know how fucking awful that feels? Do you?”

“Why did you do that. Oon-ah. I told you to read books and watch TV to pass the time.”

The child’s complaint, mangled and mixed with sobs, was sweeter and more addictive than any drug. With a smile lingering on his face, Junghan lightly patted Oon’s bottom a few times. Oon glared fiercely at Junghan like that and sharply knocked his hand away.

“I don’t need it! Who asked you to do that?! I’m not asking for much. Just… I… I just….”

The child’s face, looking terribly heartbroken as he shed tears again, flushed bright red. His lips trembled pathetically. The resentful gaze staring up at him through eyes that had quickly swollen was dizzying.

“…I just wanted to be together with you. That was the one thing I wanted. From you.”

“…….”

“When I’m alone, I feel lonely, huu… ugh, scared, I told you. I clearly told you….”

Plop plop, large tears rolled down his cheeks. When Junghan reached out to wipe them, the child once again fiercely knocked his hand away and shouted back defiantly.

“Fuck, what do I even have left. It’s all because of you. Because of you, there’s nothing left for me! Hu… ugh, the only thing left is you. When I have only that, you shouldn’t be doing this to me….”

The sorrowful complaints continued endlessly. Junghan gladly listened to that daily-repeated repertoire while soothing the child.

Yes, I understand. Calm down. Starting tomorrow I won’t be late. Along with the meaningless promises that Junghan deliberately broke every single day, as always.

Who would believe that this frail beast-like thing trembling in his arms right now was the same child from a few months ago.

Although outwardly this defiant attitude looked little different from before, Junghan knew well that this resistance was nothing more than an empty shell the child was putting up.

The sight of Pioon, whose entire being was being devoured yet whose eyes still blazed fiercely, rejecting him down to the bottom of his soul, no longer existed. That child’s strong sense of self had died on the beach in Busan a few months ago.

Junghan had let Pioon’s friend go unharmed, without laying a single finger on him. Because he wanted Pioon to remember forever that he had sacrificed his own body to protect that tearfully insignificant friendship.

After returning to the space that should rightfully belong only to the two of them, Junghan personally showed Oon proof that his friend was safe. The child did not cry like when his mother had betrayed him; he simply stared at the phone screen. Endlessly, with utterly empty eyes.

Oon, who had endured well for months, changed rapidly after that incident.

One could even say he broke. The moment he was separated from Junghan, severe separation anxiety overwhelmed him.

With crazed eyes he smashed things around him. He demanded that Junghan stay glued to him without the slightest gap. Even Junghan merely going to and from work became something the child could barely endure.

Because of you I lost my only family, lost my friend. Lost my home. Now the only thing left is you. Pioon had said that while demanding Junghan with bold, fierce intensity. That spirit was the same as before.

And Junghan found that demand utterly lovable.

Yes, the way the child acted like that was lovable. Lately Junghan had begun to vaguely sense an emotion he never thought he would understand in his lifetime—one he had only imitated appropriately when necessary.

Junghan had quickly lost interest whenever he played with someone well only for them to break and become doll-like, devoid of self. What had drawn him to Pioon in the first place was precisely that lively vitality that stood stiff and wild.

Now it was hard to find such a thing in Oon anymore. Nevertheless, Junghan had no intention of discarding Pioon. No—in fact, his possessiveness soared day by day to an extent incomparable to before.

To the point that he wanted to swallow every single strand of hair from the child who clung to him, crying, clawing, and raging. To the point that he wanted to lick clean every bit of that white, finely textured flesh, chew the bones with crunching sounds until not even one remained.

“Starting tomorrow I’ll come early, so calm down a bit.”

“Keeps, huu huuk, doing this kind of shit. Fuck, you were the one who first broke the…”

“Okay, I get it. Oon-ah, hyung went out and worked all day to support you. You should behave nicely.”

He embraced the thrashing child and gently coaxed him. Several fierce punches landed on his shoulder, but the tantrum did not last long.

He held the limp, warm body and patted his back. Tracing the sharply thin shoulders and the pathetically palpable spine gradually set his nerves on edge. Everything else was fine, but this kind of wasting away was indeed displeasing.

To hide the cooling gaze, Junghan deliberately put on a sweet smile. Right now was the time to soothe the child rather than get angry. That way Oon would behave even more sweetly.

“Let’s make up, Oon-ah. Hm?”

“Huuuk, huuu….”

“It would be nice if Oon-ah sucked hyung’s cock.”

He kissed the top of the now much calmer child’s head and said so. Taking the small, very white hand, he brought it to his crotch and subtly rubbed it there. While sniffling and gasping roughly, Oon did not pull his hand away.

“You’re really coming early tomorrow, right.”

Hearing the sharp, confirming voice, Junghan once again thought how much he wanted to chew and devour Oon completely.

“Yes, I will.”

“If you break the promise again tomorrow… I won’t do this kind of thing ever again. Not with my mouth or anything. Fuck, I’ll rip your dick off.”

“That would be terrible. Then our Oon would feel empty with no one to fill him up.”

Junghan spoke as if startled, playing with Oon’s hair. He kissed without hesitation the cheeks streaked with thick tear tracks.

“I’ll pay attention from now on. So, okay?”

Only after receiving several promises did Oon move slowly like a snail. While glaring at Junghan’s face with resentful, brimming eyes that still held his anger, he slowly sank down and knelt.

The sight of him unbuckling the belt, pulling down the pants and underwear, and immediately bringing his lips to it—if watched too long—made the lower abdomen ache.

The pretty lips took in the tightly erect cock. The shaft sliding into the red, blood-engorged mouth quickly gained even more hardness.

Oon, who used to frown and gag whenever the roof of his mouth was prodded, now knew to open his throat wider to accept his cock. Even when thrust deep—deeper—Oon devoured it hungrily as if starved, and at times Junghan completely lost the thin thread of patience he had been barely holding onto.

Oon sucked his cock, making delicious sounds as if savoring candy. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like someone who had starved all day devouring food ravenously.

“Is my cock that delicious?”

When asked, Oon did not obediently answer but glared at him. Finding the teary eyes beautiful, Junghan gently stroked the corners of the eyes with his fingers so as not to hurt.

“You left food earlier too. You must be hungry.”

“Uu, mm….”

“I’ll give you a lot of cum, so don’t leave any of this.”

He urged in a soft voice. While fiddling with the soft, tender earlobe, Junghan ejaculated into Oon’s throat.

Even while breathing heavily through his nose, the child desperately clung to his thighs. The sight of him taking every drop into the back of his throat and swallowing so as not to miss even one was truly pleasing to behold.

After kissing his own perfect, utterly satisfying possession, Junghan gently stroked and swept back the child’s hair.

He set the knife he had been holding down on the table. The dull clink of utensils hitting each other felt tedious.

In the private room of a restaurant where calm music flowed, I was having lunch with Choi Junghan. On the surface, it was an unbearably peaceful everyday scene.

Under the table, I slowly rotated my ankle. The motion I learned during rehabilitation had already become a habit. The bone fragments that had mercilessly shattered and dislocated had gradually reattached over time. Slowly, yet with a life force so tenacious it became tiresome.

I fully savored the smooth, languid circling of the joint. The pain itself had disappeared, but the agony recalled in occasional nightmares remained vivid.

After rotating the left ankle several times, I moved to the right one. The ankles that used to alternate wearing shackles had for months been fixed only on the right, so the right ankle—now free of any restraint for the first time in a long while—felt awkward. It kept giving the hallucination that the ankle was floating in the air.

This was the second time going out with Choi Junghan since that summer when I went to the beach alone. The first time had only been a brief walk around the house. With an impassive expression I took in the boundary between summer and autumn with my eyes. That was already a month ago.

And today, I came to the department store with Choi Junghan.

I don’t know what whim possessed him. Seeing my puppet-like, lifeless appearance, did he think he should at least try to revive some vitality in me? The thought that he might be capable of thinking like an ordinary person sent a chilly sense of alienation through me.

Facing the bustling crowd after so long, at first I broke into a cold sweat and felt dizzy. But that lasted only a moment. After stopping by a shop in the department store and cutting my overgrown hair, my head felt much lighter.

While that was happening, Choi Junghan showed no sign of any intention to restrain me. Walking side by side matching my pace, he almost seemed to be acting like lovers.

To some people’s eyes, he and I would probably look like an ordinary older brother and younger brother. And someone sharper might read the subtle atmosphere flowing between us. Because Choi Junghan had been treating me kindly the whole time.

But no one would ever guess that the Choi Junghan who gently removed tiny bits of cut hair from my neck, gave me water when I was thirsty, and carefully took care of drinks for me was actually the man who, a few months ago, frequently slapped my cheeks, choked my neck, and raped me.

“This should suit you well.”

Choi Junghan took me—freshly barbered and refreshed—and headed to the luxury brand floor. He stood me in front of the clothing section, called over a staff member, and had them hold various items up to my body. When I just stared sullenly at Choi Junghan without reacting, he let out a short laugh.