Chapter 47: The Antidote and the Beast

Seonghye reached out and wiped Yunhwan’s damp forehead. He had hoped it wasn’t a nightmare, but the cold sweat soaking even his eyelashes proved otherwise. Seonghye’s brow furrowed slightly. Seeing the face that had been in such agony just moments ago made his heart ache even more.

“Tell me. Who was tormenting you, Hyung?”

The hand moved from the forehead to grip Yunhwan’s shoulder—firmly, but not enough to hurt. As if he could sense the invisible assailant from the nightmare, Seonghye’s voice was sharp with a protective edge. Yunhwan swallowed dryly.

“…No one.”

“Then who?”

Despite the vague answer, Seonghye’s gaze remained piercing. Yunhwan couldn’t even think of looking away; he was too busy trying to find a suitable excuse.

After a long pause, the words came out in fragments.

“It’s just… just a bad dream. One I have every now and then. I don’t… even remember what happens, but I know it isn’t a good one. That’s just how nightmares are.”

In Yunhwan’s dreams, there was no single villain. The people crying out with mangled souls were once his comrades, and they were victims—but among them, Yunhwan was not a pure victim. He was merely a survivor drifting between the states of victim and bystander.

Even if others called it cowardly, he chose to hide again. He dropped his gaze to avoid Seonghye’s eyes.

“Fine. I won’t ask anymore.”

Seeing the shadow fall over Yunhwan’s face, Seonghye was the first to back down.

“So, from now on, only look at good things and think happy thoughts. The future is what matters; the past is powerless, and the present is… well, it’s just a transition.”

He rubbed his thumb gently under Yunhwan’s clouded eyes. The warmth pressing against his skin was comforting, and the voice reaching into his bottomless abyss was remarkably tender. Yunhwan instinctively bit his lip. A warning light had been flashing in his head for a long time telling him not to get close to Seonghye, but his heart kept ignoring it, tripping over his reason.

“…….”

They say the human heart is prone to unpredictable collisions and accidents. Yunhwan couldn’t tell if he was the perpetrator or the victim of this particular accident. It was always Seonghye who crossed the line, never Yunhwan.

Yet, why was he just standing there today, watching the line be crossed?

Yunhwan slowly raised his eyes to meet Seonghye’s.

“…I thought you said the past has no power.”

At the reminder of his own words, the corners of Seonghye’s mouth lifted.

“If the past has no power and the present is just a bridge, then the only thing that matters for us is our future.”

He placed his hand over Yunhwan’s shirt, right over his heart.

“…Even if it takes some time.”

Seonghye inhaled deeply, catching his own scent that had subtly permeated the bedroom. Unlike the refreshing perfume he sprayed on his body, Seonghye’s true pheromones were heavier and deeper—a scent that didn’t drift away but pooled like water.

If he delved deep into those heavy layers of fragrance, he could find Yunhwan’s scent underneath. Just like him, his pheromones were obsessed with inhaling every trace of Yunhwan floating in the air.

With his eyes closed, Seonghye “drank” Yunhwan in with his whole body before slowly opening his eyes. His pupils were now shimmering with heat. In a matter of seconds, he felt a stifling tightness below the belt. He parted his legs slightly and moistened his lips with his tongue.

“I should take this opportunity to practice my patience.”

“…….”

“But know this: I intend to collect a very certain reward later.”

Seonghye let out a short, airy chuckle and pressed his fingertip firmly against Yunhwan’s lips.

Seonghye helped Yunhwan up and led him out of the bedroom. Yunhwan, soaked in the sweat of his nightmare, went to the bathroom to wash up, while Seonghye sat in the living room, counting the minutes until he would come out.

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.

—Shhhhhhh.

It was then that a predatory heat began to circulate in the eyes of the man waiting. Seonghye’s pupils, usually as glossy as polished glass beads, began to dilate and contract rhythmically. Guided by the rhythm of the splashing water, a strange sensation began to open up from his toes to the crown of his head.

His wet tongue slid across his dry lips like a snake.

“…Mmm.”

Comparing the clock on the wall to the moment Yunhwan entered, Seonghye’s eyes narrowed like a beast’s.

“Ha… f*ck….”

Without hesitation, he reached inside his drawers. In an instant, his gaze turned hazy and soft, like someone intoxicated by a potent drug. His broad, flat palm slowly gripped his hardening length.

His member, already fully engorged and pulsing, was damp at the tip. Usually, he would finish quickly in his own hand, never reaching his limit, but today, the flesh throbbed violently.

Seonghye glared at the bathroom door with a fierce expression. He gripped himself tightly, his nerves standing on end at the sound of the shower. Behind that door was everything he possessed. The only thing in the world he could never share—a thought he wouldn’t even dare to entertain.

The man’s shoulders tensed as he knelt, then leaned forward like a rushing stream. His large hand moved up and down, creating a slick, squelching sound. His Adam’s apple bobbed against his reddened throat.

“Ah, hah…!”

A moan escaped his bitten lips, mingling with the sound of the water. His eyes, opening and closing, were slitted like a reptile’s. His neck cracked as he turned his head to the side, looking fiercely at the bed where Yunhwan slept before snapping his gaze back to the bathroom.

The thick, veined length thrashed in his hand. Seonghye let out a groan that sounded like a wounded animal.

Does Yunhwan do this alone as often as I do? What does he look like when he releases his desire? His broad palm rubbed the entire shaft before lightly squeezing the base and sliding back up. His palm was already slick with pre-cum.

He panted. Hot saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of things he shouldn’t imagine.

“…Ha, just how much… longer… do I have to wait?”

His fingers, with their protruding knuckles, didn’t hide his excitement as he began to stroke himself faster. He wrapped his entire palm around the shaft, thrusting upward before lightly teasing the tip.

The man, masturbating in bated breath, finally yanked his drawers down to his ankles. His engorged, veined member twitched, fully exposed.

“Heeuu… haa, huuuh.”

He increased his speed. The sound of the water in the bathroom began to die down. He curled his palm and thrust ruthlessly.

“It hurts, Hyung…. My cock hurts…. Ha….”

His eyes, appearing piteously downcast, remained fixed on the bathroom door. Simultaneously, the pupils beneath his brow distorted with a savage intensity, as if he wanted to devour the man inside whole.

Gripping the glistening tip tightly, Seonghye leaned forward. The moment he used his fingernails to press sharply against the very peak of the sensitive glans—

“Ugh, f*ck… haah…!”

The irrational heat that had scorched his body exploded out through the burning flesh.

And.

It wasn’t long after that the bathroom door, which had been firmly shut, swung open.

“It’s just for one hour. One hour. Don’t go anywhere and just rest inside.”

Yunhwan thought he looked ridiculous—Seonghye was in a beige polo shirt and clean slacks, while he was wearing a deep-brimmed hat and bright red sun-sleeves. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt like a living illustration of the “City Mouse and Country Mouse” fable.

“Hyung, you have a tendency to overprotect me sometimes.”

“…What are you talking about?” Yunhwan narrowed his eyes at the cryptic comment.

“It feels like you’re the one who needs the protection.”

Seonghye’s Adam’s apple moved heavily. His dark pupils took in every inch of Yunhwan before exhaling like someone suffering from indigestion.

“A protest?”

At the sudden word, Yunhwan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Protest? No, it’s not a protest, it’s just…”

“This isn’t a protest?”

Seonghye grabbed Yunhwan’s shoulders and spun him around. Revealed in Yunhwan’s hands, which he had been holding behind his back, was a white cloth. It was poorly cut with frayed edges—obviously a makeshift banner.

“The slogan is incredible. ‘To the County Office! The Governor must reflect and rectify his broken promises immediately.’ If the text is this long, no one will read it even if you wrap it around your forehead. It’s bad for readability.”

He clicked his tongue. Yunhwan pulled his hat down further to hide his face and turned away.

This year, all eight villages of Baeksan County, including Sanghee-ri, had been flooded. Most were farms damaged by natural disaster, but some areas suffered because preventable measures weren’t taken. A levee construction project scheduled for this year had been overturned at the last minute, causing massive damage to certain villages.

People tend to unite in the face of a crisis, and the presence of a common enemy only strengthens that bond. The farmers’ rage was boiling over toward the Governor, who had not only ignored his promises but had feigned ignorance about the canceled levee project that led to this disaster.