MBL 4

My fist clenched and unclenched under the desk, gripped by an urge to strangle Im Juho, to demand what he did with my hyung until he spat blood. Dry saliva scratched my throat as it went down, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

I couldn’t forgive him, not even vaguely. The simple, overwhelming premonition that his filthy body, entangled with Heo Kyungmin, had done something with my hyung drove me to an unbearable rage.

An inexplicable sorrow welled up, making my breathing ragged. To avoid being noticed, I exhaled long and slow, trying to control the heaving breaths.

After class, Im Juho stood up from his seat. I followed him to the bathroom.

I flung the bathroom door open with bravado but flinched. Im Juho was standing by the door, as if waiting for me.

“…….”

“…What’s your deal?”

Im Juho asked brusquely.

I knew he never liked me. I figured it was because of our grades, always neck-and-neck. If he got two questions wrong, my rank went up; if he scored a perfect hundred, my rank dropped.

I never had much interest or ambition in studying—my goal was always hyung—so I didn’t hold any grudge against Im Juho, whose rank fluctuated with mine. If I pushed hard, I could overtake him, but surpassing hyung was impossible.

“Im, Juho, you…”

My breathing was so heavy I could barely control it. My breath came so fast that even saying his name was difficult.

The corner of Im Juho’s mouth curled up, as if mocking me. My anger surged to an uncontrollable level. Breathing became harder. My chest felt constricted. I thought I might hyperventilate.

“What about me?”

Im Juho suddenly punched me in the chest. My body staggered from the unexpected blow.

“What about me? Spit it out. Don’t waste my time with someone like you.”

He sneered, looking at my stumbling self with disdain.

I wanted to shove his face into the toilet. But I didn’t know what to ask. The more I tried to swallow my anger, the more it grew, threatening to consume me, yet I couldn’t figure out what to say to him to make it subside.

“You, you… you bastard…”

“Looks like you’ve got a lot of pent-up resentment toward me. Been glaring at me like you want to eat me alive.”

“You bastard…”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I bit my lower lip hard, pushed the bathroom door open, and stormed out. My lips trembled. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. My vision blurred, everything smearing together.

I couldn’t ask.

I couldn’t bring myself to say those filthy words, to ask if he’d done that with my hyung. Even if he denied it, even if it were true, I didn’t want to insult hyung by uttering such dirty words.

I left school without grabbing my bag.

I didn’t go to cram school or take the bus. Covered in city dust, I walked all the way home. The long shadows of the day had softened, and it was already evening.

My uniform was soaked with sweat. My face was pale, as if I might collapse on the spot.

Whether it was from walking such a long distance or from the shock I couldn’t control, my limbs visibly trembled.

I wasn’t unaware of the door code, and this was my house, but I stood dumbly in front of the heavy wooden gate, staring at the intercom button.

How long did I stand there? Someone unlocked the door for me.

“What are you doing?”

A hand grabbed my shoulder as I stood there, dazed. No, it was more like it supported me.

I stumbled and only then turned to notice the other person. It was hyung, looking at me with concern. His face, the one that had been stuck in my mind, unremovable.

“Your face… are you sick?”

“…….”

Without answering, he supported me and led me through the gate. I was dragged along lightly, like a piece of luggage in his hands.

As we crossed the garden and entered through the front door, hyung, who had been holding my arm, wrapped his arm around my waist, nearly lifting me.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Yoon’s figure was faintly visible, cooking. Without turning at the sound, she cheerfully assumed who had arrived.

“Joonyoung’s back. Wash up and have a snack. I made something tasty.”

Neither hyung nor I responded to her.

Hyung half-carried me up the stairs to the second floor. Halfway up, I collapsed from exhaustion. As my strength completely drained and I slumped down, he lifted me into his arms. His jaw clenched tightly, his teeth grinding.

Father’s remarriage had completely severed the bond between us brothers.

Even without our mother, Father and we brothers were tied by a strong bond. Her absence had held us together tightly.

I tried not to defy our single father, and even though he didn’t show me as much expectation or attention as he did hyung, I felt sorry for him, left alone, and pitied him. Because our mother was gone, I resolved to be better to him.

But I felt betrayed beyond mere disappointment when Father remarried Mrs. Yoon, whom he’d dismissed as just a subordinate.

To me, Father should have been hyung. Both hyung and Father knew how much I relied on and was conscious of him.

There was no way to explain this sinking feeling of despair.

It felt like abandonment. It was a betrayal far worse than when hyung left for the military without a word.

Father brought in Mrs. Yoon, whom he’d claimed was nothing to him, as our stepmother, and I felt abandoned by him. Now, it felt like hyung had abandoned me too, just like Father. In the end, there was no place for me in this house, no one to rely on. I thought I wasn’t alone, but I was utterly alone.

“Lie down here.”

Hyung quickly laid me on my bed. I slumped like a rag in his hands. Unable to move, I looked up at him.

“Did something happen at school?”

“…….”

“Joonyoung. Kang Joonyoung.”

Frustrated by my silent staring, he sighed.

On Friday night, I saw hyung with Im Juho and hid behind a car like a fool. I didn’t make a sound, crouching in the dark, waiting for them to disappear, then entered hyung’s studio as if possessed.

My mind was blank, like it had been bombed.

The secret studio, not even locked, was filled with a musty, damp smell. My heart pounded wildly. With trembling hands, I explored his space.

In a trash can covered with a black plastic bag, a freshly used condom was discarded. Evidence of them rolling around naked, of hyung clinging to Im Juho like a dog, was starkly visible everywhere.

Cold sweat soaked my neck. A chill ran through me. I fled the studio, leaving the door wide open, that Friday night, and spent the weekend tormented by nightmares, imagining them and shuddering in disgust.

“Want some water? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Anyone could see I wasn’t okay. My face was pale, and my eyes were sunken from lack of sleep.

“…Did someone hit you? Is someone bullying you at school?”

Kang Joonwon asked hypocritically, looking at me with concern, as if he couldn’t believe such a thing could happen to me.

Biting my purple lips, I struggled to sit up. Even that was exhausting, and I glared at him, breathing heavily, as he looked at me with worry.

“You can tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

I wasn’t just dumbfounded—I was furious. Even his concern seemed fake.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Why do you suddenly care? You’ve never been interested in me.”

“…….”

My insolent words and expression, unimaginable for addressing an elder, scratched at him.

“Why are you suddenly curious about me?”

“You’re… Kang Joonyoung.”

He called my name in a low, warning tone. I scoffed.

“What? You’re mad because I called you ‘you’? Kang Joonwon, you bastard!”

“…….”

His expression hardened, as if I’d hidden a knife under the bed. He looked down at me silently. His concerned, worried face showed no trace of remorse for what he did Friday night—just hypocrisy.

“Im Juho, the guy I mentioned before… you remember, right? I told you about him. The top student even the counselor knows. Remember?”

“…….”

“He’s better at studying than me.”

He looked at me like I was speaking an indecipherable foreign language, observing my strange behavior closely, unable to piece together the puzzle.

“One’s a genius everyone in school knows, the other’s a thug everyone knows. Isn’t it ironic that they’re sleeping together?”

The poorly laid foreshadowing caused cracks to form on his face.

“Kang Joonyoung.”

He called my name in a flat tone, clearly displeased with my aimless rambling.

His tone and stern expression grew stricter. The more he acted like a righteous hyung, the angrier I got.

“Isn’t that kind of thing dirty?”

“…….”

“Guys doing that together is gross. Clinging to each other like that.”

“…….”

“They didn’t even care that I was watching and were groping each other. It’s like it turned them on more because someone was watching.”

I propped myself up unsteadily, staring at him defiantly.

No blade could cut deeper than mine.

“I went to Hongdae Friday night to see your performance. But they said it was canceled because of the vocalist, so that night… I went to your studio.”

“…….”

“Did it feel good sleeping with that filthy homo bastard? Did you get that studio just for that?”

I shuddered, recalling what I saw. I didn’t want to think about it, but it kept flooding my mind, filling it with filthy images.

“Did it feel good sleeping with Im Juho? Did it feel good touching him? How could you with that dirty bastard…! How could you be so shameless with me!?”

“…….”

“You’re… filthy. Dirty. You dirty bastard. You’re so disgusting I want to spit. Ptooey!”

I stood up abruptly and spat at his rigid face. Unintentionally, hot saliva mixed with white foam hit his cheek and slid down.

I was the one who spat and insulted him, but I was shocked by my own actions and froze.

“Filthy, disgusting!”

I berated him. I wanted to use every word I knew to degrade him.

“Get out. You, Father… I’m sick of looking at all of you. I hate it all.”

“…….”

“I never want to see you again. Get out, you’re filthy.”

“…….”

His cheek, marked by my spit, remained still as he looked at me without a flicker.

“Get out! Out!”

I thought hyung had a girlfriend. Even that was hard to accept. Whoever it was, acknowledging that relationship would’ve taken immense patience and will, and accepting that hyung and I were ultimately strangers would’ve been a mental ordeal.

None of it mattered anymore. The reason for my outrage was that I now understood why hyung had been distant, hostile, dismissive, and neglectful toward me. He’d found someone precious to replace me. That’s why he abandoned me.

“Get out!”

I threw whatever I could grab at him—pillows, books, even bedding that wouldn’t reach him, flailing as I hurled them.

Hyung stood there, taking the books and pillows I threw without defending himself. His lack of rebuttal made it seem like he deserved this, driving me even madder.

I grabbed the alarm clock on the bedside console. Beyond hatred, I wanted to beat him with it.

The clock’s bell trembled in my grip. As I raised it to throw, holding my breath, light footsteps sounded on the landing. It was Mrs. Yoon.

Hyung, who’d been staring at me, sensed the footsteps and reached back, locking the door with a click.

The room was a mess. My vicious yelling at hyung, his passive acceptance—everything was a mess.

“…….”

“…….”

Without breaking eye contact with me, hyung brought his hand to his cheek.

Staring at me, he wiped the trace of my insult with his palm.

My heart sank. He brought the hand with my spit to his lips. His red tongue emerged, licking the saliva off his palm, smearing it across his face.

Knock, knock.

“Joonyoung?”

“…….”

I stared, horrified, as he licked his hand. He approached me.

Hyung knew.

As long as that woman, not our mother, was outside, whether the door was locked or not, I’d never make a sound. No, I’d never scream.

He looked impassive, no different from usual. His expression was just a bit heavier.

He didn’t cover my mouth. His strong hand grabbed the collar of my sweat-soaked, dirty uniform shirt and yanked me up. A loosely attached button popped off.

I wasn’t scared—I was overwhelmed by him. Another knock came from outside.

“Joonyoung? What are you doing?”

Mrs. Yoon’s voice was clear, but hyung didn’t care.

My subconscious caught on to what he was about to do. My heart crashed to the floor with a thud.

As I stumbled back to escape, he grabbed my clothes, leaned in, and his lips crashed hotly onto mine.

“Mmff!”

My eyes widened in shock. His lips were devouring mine.

I pushed him with everything I could grab. The futility of my fists against his strong shoulders hit me. His tongue forced its way past my lips, ravaging inside. I could barely breathe.

“Mmf, mmph, mm…! Mph!”

I was terrified the sound would carry. That she’d hear what we were doing. Unable to make a sound, I resisted with my whole body as his hot tongue wrapped around mine, pulling it in.

Rough breathing and saliva mingled. His hand gripped my neck tightly. When his lips, sucking at my flesh, finally pulled away, a loud sound followed.

I gasped, holding my breath. I couldn’t let even a hint of my unsteady breathing escape. He was my real hyung.

“Joonyoung, are you asleep? The snack’s ready. Joonyoung, hey!”

Mrs. Yoon showed no sign of giving up. Hyung might ignore her, but she probably thought I, who didn’t ignore her, was deliberately not responding since Father wasn’t home. Her sharp, venomous knocking grew louder, like a hammer smashing something.

“Ha, ha…”

Between Mrs. Yoon’s relentless knocking and hyung gripping my collar, panting, I couldn’t think straight.

I pushed him desperately, but no resistance worked. His hands tried to pull off my torn uniform shirt. It was yanked off, slipping over my shoulders.

I collapsed onto the bed with a thud. The heavy sound might’ve carried outside. The knocking paused, as if Mrs. Yoon heard it.

I looked up at him in panic.

Using his strength, he pinned me to the bed, grabbing both my wrists to immobilize me.

He lowered his head, continuing the act I’d called filthy. His hot lips clung to my neck. Something wet moved stickily along my neckline, then bit down hard. It was a taunt to scream.

“Ugh!”

No matter how I struggled, I couldn’t shake off his strength. Not knowing what he was doing but feeling the violence of his actions, a pain akin to sorrow surged.

Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes. My tightly bitten lips bled.

“Joonyoung, hey! Don’t my words mean anything? This kid!”

Knock, knock, bang, bang, bang…!

Hyung, who’d been crushing my wrists as if to break them, suddenly stopped and let go.

With a face smeared with saliva, blood, and tears, I looked between hyung and the shaking door.

“Ha, ha, ah…”

My consciousness felt shattered by the confusion. My head spun.

I crawled across the bed like a dog. My knees hit the floor with a thud. My whole body trembled uncontrollably.

I frantically wiped my face with a towel. Hurriedly fixing my disheveled clothes, I opened the door.

Mrs. Yoon, her face red with frustration, was raising her hand to pound on the door again.

“S-sorry… I was about to shower, had the water running, and was distracted.”

The pounding stopped abruptly, and an eerie silence filled the air. It was an ominous calm.

“What were you doing that you didn’t hear? Do you know how long I knocked? I thought you were listening… I thought you were hearing me…”

Seeing my disheveled clothes and the towel in my hand, Mrs. Yoon trailed off, bewildered.

I lowered my head. I gripped the door handle tightly to keep the slightly ajar door from opening wider.

“I didn’t hear because of the water. I’m sorry. I’ll wash up and come downstairs.”

“O-okay, do that. Sorry. I thought you were listening… I didn’t know what you were doing…”

Mrs. Yoon, with a flustered expression, turned and went down the stairs.

I rolled my eyes through the narrow gap in the door until her figure disappeared. Even after she was gone, I stared warily at the hallway for a while. Soon, the sounds of movement faded, and the surroundings grew quiet.

I closed the door with a click. Then locked it again.

For a long time, I held the handle, staring blankly at the door before turning around.

Joonwon hyung was sitting on the bed, looking at me. His expression was cold, his gaze chilling.

We stared at each other without moving, like enemies facing off on a battlefield, not even letting out a breath.

“…….”

“…….”

Hyung was the first to break the tension.

It was hard to believe that he, who had forcibly stripped my clothes and done something unthinkable, maintained such a calm gaze. His quiet eyes and impassive expression exuded a chilling madness.

“Come here.”

“…….”

“Come this way.”

“…No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What should we do? It seems like today I have to do something you don’t like.”

“…….”

His tone was as light as his posture, speaking as if discussing everyday matters. The calmness in his voice made me question whether the horrifying meaning I heard was real.

“Do you want to run away?”

“…What?”

“Do you want to scream?”

“Are you crazy, hyung?”

I couldn’t scream. If I screamed, someone would knock on my door and see the insane things hyung was doing. They’d catch what we were doing.

“You can scream if you want…”

Hyung muttered to himself and stood up. He approached me without hesitation.

There was nowhere to escape, but I tensed my legs. There was no place to hide from him in my own room. The situation was simply unbelievable.

I wasn’t a weak animal fleeing from a predator, and he and I were not sworn enemies who should never cross paths. We were just brothers. He and I had no reason to run from each other—we were just brothers.

“Why are you doing this? Hyung, why? Are you really crazy?”

“…….”

“Stop it, please. Don’t do this. Don’t…!”

I sharply berated him, begging him to stop, to come to his senses, but my voice was barely half its usual volume, shrunken. I pleaded in a whispering scream for him to stop.

His hand reached out and caressed my pale, trembling cheek. His hand was warm, the same warmth that had comforted and held me as a child.

The hand stroking my face brushed through my disheveled hair, then gripped it tightly. It wasn’t painful, but it was a disconcerting force that kept me from moving. He had never touched me with such strength before.

“…Don’t, please. Come to your senses. Please… please.”

He brought his face close to mine, staring intently. I couldn’t imagine what he was about to do, not a single scene.

It wasn’t the act itself that scared me—it was the fact that if he did this, we could never have a normal relationship again.

If he crossed that line, if he did something he shouldn’t.

It would be a catastrophe or ruin. I might lose hyung. My fingertips trembled with extreme fear, sensing a disastrous end.

“Hyung…”

His lips, closing in without a gap, met mine as I called out to him. I could feel his breath. The warmth of his full lips pressed against me. His scent and breathing enveloped my entire body.

His lips parted, and hot breath spread.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not crazy or out of my mind.”

“…….”

“I’m saying I have no intention of stopping.”

His dry lips, whispering, pressed heavily onto mine.

He knew exactly what he was doing. As if savoring something long contemplated and desired, his lips and tongue, unlike before, softly licked me. He was desperate to taste, to feel, to etch it onto his tongue.

An uncontrollable breath burst out, and the hand gripping the back of my head tightened. Pain shot through as a handful of hair felt like it was being pulled out. My brows furrowed involuntarily.

“Hah…! Ugh, mmph…!”

I felt nothing. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

I pounded and pushed his strong arms and shoulders, but his steel-like firmness only grew more resolute.

He pushed his tongue deeper, licking inside me.

The sound, the feeling, the sensation were maddeningly vivid.

“Mmph, mm, ugh… ugh.”

His ferocious tongue and lips, rummaging every corner, pulled away.

“Haa…! Haa, haa.”

My blocked airways opened, and rough breaths poured out.

His lips and chin were smeared with mingled saliva.

I couldn’t think.

Hyung had pressed his tongue and lips against mine, indulging in sensuality like a madman. And he came closer, as if wanting to continue.

No appropriate word could describe this situation.

As he approached again, I hurriedly backed away. At the same time, my back hit the door with a thud, making a loud noise. I froze in shock.

I looked up at him, startled.

It didn’t matter if my body broke into pieces, formless. The horrific outcome of this unimaginable act didn’t matter.

The urgent thought in my mind was that we couldn’t be caught. No sound could be made.

No one in this house, no one in the world, could see me and hyung like this.

In desperate panic, even as he pinned me down with force, I didn’t let out a single moan.

“…….”

Hyung looked down at me, clenching my teeth and enduring.

He seemed to realize why I was holding back, trembling and suppressing even the smallest sound.

Fear surged at his expression. He didn’t care about what came next. He wasn’t afraid of what he was doing.

His hand, holding me, pulled away. My legs shook.

As the supporting force vanished, my body, leaning against the door, slid to the floor.

He knelt on one knee in front of me.

He caressed my trembling cheek. I looked at him with tear-filled eyes, begging him to return to the old hyung, to come to his senses.

“Was it dirty?”

“…Hyung?”

“Did it feel dirty?”

I didn’t want to provoke him. I shook my head, denying that I thought he was dirty or that what he did felt dirty.

“Shall we try something we shouldn’t?”

The hand stroking my cheek gripped both sides of my face.

As his grip tightened, my lips were forced open. I turned my head to avoid it, but his long fingers were already inside my mouth. Not knowing what he was doing, I stupidly bit his fingers and stared.

His fingers brushed my palate. A strange, subtle sensation came from the slick movement.

I looked at him in confusion.

As his fingers explored, saliva pooled in my mouth. To swallow, I had to bite down on his fingers.

“Mmph… mm, ugh…”

I tightened my throat around his fingers, swallowing the pooling saliva. His gaze, piercing me, wavered like ripples on water.

His long fingers reached deep, touching my throat. My breath faltered with a choke. Nausea surged, and I shook my head, spitting out his fingers.

“Gah, cough, cough…”

Intermittent coughs burst out.

He stared at his hand, wet with my saliva.

I collapsed on the floor, coughing, and stood up to avoid him approaching. There was nowhere to run. The bathroom was past him, and outside the door, Mrs. Yoon might be there.

His arm grabbed me as I rushed toward the second-floor window.

“Let go, let go… let go!”

“You’re going to jump? Want to break your legs too?”

“Let go, don’t touch me!”

“You hate it because it’s dirty?”

“No, no! Hyung, please!”

His strong arm lifted my struggling weight and threw me onto the bed.

I looked up at him, disheveled, hoping against hope it wasn’t true, shaking my head as he climbed over me, pinning my arms to the bed.

His neat hair fell disheveled toward me. I pleaded with my eyes for him to stop as he pressed down on me like a boulder.

“Stop it. Are you really crazy? Why, why are you doing this!”

“I’m not crazy. I’m perfectly sane.”

“…….”

His handsome eyes, shadowed through his messy hair, glinted eerily.

“I killed myself over and over to not do this… this dirty thing to you. You wouldn’t know.”

You’ll never know. Never.

I was the one being violated, but he looked pained.

With calm force, he pinned my thrashing body, wrapping my struggling legs and closing the gap.

“It wasn’t about enduring—it was killing myself each time.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do you know why? Because it’s something we shouldn’t do.”

“Hyung, please!”

“I’ve killed myself hundreds of times looking at you. I remember every single death.”

It wasn’t a lie. His eyes, haunting like a ghost, stared through me.

His lower body, pressing against mine, was swollen. His pained, excited body pressed and rubbed against me. It was a horrific sensation.

“That’s probably why I’ve become like this.”

He muttered self-deprecatingly, saying he’d killed himself so many times that the self called Kang Joonwon no longer existed.

Hyung lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine. His grip on my wrists tightened, as if my bones would break.

His thick, hot tongue pushed through my forced-open lips with his breath.

“Mmph…!”

As his hand released my wrists, I pushed his approaching shoulders and chest. I resisted fiercely, but stopping a crazed hyung was futile.

Our bodies twisted under the force. His fingers dug into my hair, pulling my scalp.

He moved his head, deepening the connection. There was no room to breathe, our lips glued together.

I wished this wasn’t reality, rubbing wet lips and feeling his hot body. I was seized by absurd thoughts that it was a dream, a mistake, an imagination.

The wet sound of our heated lips parting brought reality crashing back.

It wasn’t a dream, not my imagination, not a mistake.

“Haa, haa, haa, no, don’t do this. Hyung, snap out of it.”

“You hate it because it’s dirty?”

He asked sadly. I shook my head, denying it was dirty. It wasn’t dirty—it was wrong, something that shouldn’t happen.

His wet lips slid down my cheek and neck. As my sweaty skin was dragged along, the sensation of being touched and caressed felt like chills.

He took my nipple in his lips and sucked. An unbearable sensation seemed to consume me. My back heated, my lower body tingled, and I couldn’t keep my legs still.

“Haa, hyung, ah, Joonwon hyung, ah, ah, ah…!”

He gripped my struggling waist, latching onto my chest, licking and nibbling my swollen nipple in that short time.

Beyond fear, dread, and anxiety of being caught, the thought that hyung did this with Im Juho made me suddenly hate him unbearably.

“Don’t!”

I hit him. I punched his head, his shoulders, swinging until his shirt tore.

Unfazed by my fierce resistance, he pulled off my pants and underwear at once. My shame was laid bare before him.

“Ugh!”

I clamped my thighs together.

As kids, he bathed me, and we washed together, but since puberty, I always bathed alone. I never undressed in front of him, nor he in front of me.

I never told anyone, and there was no need to. I had no hair down there. The shrunken, limp organ and pale skin—I was mortified to show hyung what I never wanted him to see. Tears welled up.

He stared at my exposed lower body with darkened eyes.

“Ugh… ugh.”

Hyung’s hand reached down, caressing my manhood. An unfamiliar, shuddering sensation swept through my tense body. My spine stiffened. I grabbed his arm to stop him.

“It’s okay, relax.”

“Don’t. Don’t do this! I, I…!”

Beyond fear and disgust, the despair of no return mixed with the increasingly vivid sensation, stirring unbearable shame and humiliation.

“Damn it, damn it, hyung, hyung… did you touch Im Juho like this too?”

“…….”

“Did you touch that bastard like this?”

“…….”

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me. Don’t put your hands on me!”

A flood of emotions crashed over me as he gripped and caressed my organ. The more I resisted, the stickier his touch became.

My limbs trembled intermittently, muttering curses endlessly as his hand, clinging with moisture, touched me.

“…You’re an animal. Ugh, this is what animals do. Damn it, with Im Juho too… you bastard.”

I cursed Im Juho, then hyung, then this unreal situation…

I reached a state of blank loss, clinging to his hand at my groin, whimpering like a sob.

The image of hyung’s masturbation I saw under the desk as a child played like a video in my closed eyes.

His dark pubic hair, his not-yet-mature organ erect, reacting to his fingers, his breath ragged with uncontainable arousal.

“Ah, ah… ahh…!”

A dizzying thrill, like falling off a cliff at climax, surged through me.

I grabbed his muscular forearm, slick with sweat, as my trembling body blurred with the peak.

“Haa, haa… ah…”

Tears slid from my eyes, past my temples, into my ears. The sound of pooling tears sloshed.

A venomous pleasure coursed through my veins, spreading like paint. I felt nauseous, faint.

“…….”

I opened my blurred eyes and looked at him. He was looking at my traces on his hand.

After witnessing hyung’s masturbation, I developed an aversion to it. The sensation felt more unpleasant and dirty than sexual curiosity, and guilt kept me from wanting to feel aroused.

Avoiding masturbation led to a few wet dreams. I barely remembered the dreams at dawn, my body languidly indulging in pleasure and releasing physiologically.

He pulled tissues from the side table to wipe his hand. He said something, but I couldn’t hear. I lay on the bed, staring blankly at a corner of my room.

A rustling noise came. He got up from the bed beside me. Fixing his disheveled hair and clothes, he unlocked the door with a click and opened it.

I flailed in panic but could only twitch. I couldn’t cover my exposed shame, clamp my legs, or grab a blanket to hide my bare lower body. I just flopped like a bug, powerless.

“I’m back. Joonyoung seems tired. He’s lying down to sleep. Just let him be.”

It was hyung’s voice. Mrs. Yoon’s voice, asking what was going on from the landing, echoed faintly like a distant reverberation.

How much time passed?

A silent darkness settled outside.

I had to go to cram school… They said today was practice for the mock exam.

Was it proportional to the burning heat? A cold emptiness filled my room.