Chapter 56: Second Strike

First, he carefully examined Choi Han-geon’s condition with his eyes.
His clothes were a little disheveled, but at least he was wearing both his top and bottom.
The several kiss marks stamped on his neck were f*cking irritating.
And then… the stench-like, overpowering pheromones of another alpha.

‘f*ck, this is really f*cking disgusting…….’

Like some mutt lifting its hind leg anywhere to mark territory, he’d dirtied him up so crudely.
The moment he caught that scent, he bitterly regretted having merely beaten Yoo Junseong unconscious and sent him away earlier.
He shouldn’t have let him off that cleanly.
Acting, filming—he should have beaten him into pulp so badly he’d never be able to show his face again.

Calling someone else’s manager out, getting him drunk like this, then brazenly marking him and dumping him in a hotel room—the intent was painfully obvious.
He was trying to provoke him into rage and end his acting career with an assault charge.
If he was going to use such cheap, filthy tricks, he should’ve at least kept his past clean.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to kill him.
Using the kid like this for his filthy purpose?

Yet even more unforgivable than that pathetic provocation was the possibility of another intention hidden in Yoo Junseong’s actions.
His gaze had been subtler than when he used to hit on Eun-gyeol’s former managers.
There was unmistakable interest directed at Han-geon.
And Han-geon also happened to resemble the type of men Yoo Junseong used to sleep around with back in the day.

Even if what Yoo Junseong did was nothing more than a ruse to provoke him, he already wanted to tear him apart.
But if he’d gone any further than that……

“…Ha, f*ck….”

He wanted to rip all of Choi Han-geon’s clothes to shreds and check him immediately.
Just because he was dressed didn’t mean nothing could’ve happened—there were countless things one could do while clothed.
He might’ve done everything and then dressed him again.
The more he thought about it, the more frantic he became, his chest feeling like it might burst.

He clenched his fist, then loosened it.
He paced the room like a madman.
He tried to calm himself, but it was useless.
In the end, he grabbed a fresh wine glass from the table and hurled it at the floor.
Even as it shattered into pieces, his heart refused to settle.

The night was f*cking long.
He stayed awake the entire time.
Even as dawn approached, his mind didn’t grow foggy with drowsiness—instead, it only sharpened.

The explosive heartbeat from beating Yoo Junseong senseless and throwing the wine glass gradually slowed.
His cooled heart sank deeper and deeper into the abyss.
His body, which had been stifled by oppressive heat due to his rut cycle, had completely cooled as well.
More overwhelming than lust was rage.

For hours, he sat in the chair, silently glaring at Choi Han-geon’s face.
As he watched him sleep with his lips slightly parted, his flushed face stirred all kinds of emotions.
Most of them were feelings he himself couldn’t understand, so he simply let them drift away with time.
As he observed those emotions calmly, like a third party, a single conclusion solidified unshakably in his mind.

He had to check.

How far things had gone with Yoo Junseong last night.
And what the true source of this rage was—rage so intense it had even suppressed his rut.

Before he realized it, morning had come.
Eun-gyeol slowly rose to his feet.
He turned on the water and took a shower.
As if compulsively trying to wash away every lingering trace of another person’s filthy pheromones from his hands and body.

The moment he finished showering and opened the door, the first thing he saw was Choi Han-geon’s awake face.
A twisted smile formed on its own.
Seeing Han-geon jump in shock as if he were staring at the grim reaper only strengthened the resolve he’d made moments earlier.

As expected, Han-geon erupted the instant he suggested checking below.
Of course, he’d never expected the guy to submit without resistance.
They struggled.
They wrestled on the bed, grabbing collars, rolling over each other, pinning each other down in absolute chaos.
It was something he’d never once done with Choi Han-geon—not even back in middle or high school.

Choi Han-geon was so quick and agile when protecting him, yet utterly inept at protecting his own body.
He moved reflexively, only to stop again and again, hesitating repeatedly.
Idiot.
Thanks to that, Eun-gyeol was able to subdue him easily and achieve his goal.

The moment he stripped off his pants and shoved a finger inside his hole, Eun-gyeol’s eyes flashed with strange light.
An indescribable thrill slowly spread through his chest.

So he didn’t do it.

The tight hole that painfully clenched around his finger—clearly unused even once—proved it.
He hadn’t done it.
The corners of his mouth lifted.
He felt like bursting into loud laughter.

“You crazy bastard—if you’re done, pull it out!”

Below him, Choi Han-geon shouted in a voice thick with resentment, thrashing wildly.
The moment he heard that trembling voice, soaked in humiliation, he felt the urge to take revenge on the one who’d tormented him all night—separate from his improved mood.

So he did what he would to omegas, slowly and spitefully stretching the hole with his fingers.
The tight passage, dry and producing not a single drop of slick, swallowed his fingers while screaming soundlessly.
It even clung back with surprising elasticity.

Despite sticking his fingers into a beta—and a male one at that—the sense of disgust he’d expected was minimal.
Rather, the unfamiliar sensation, so different from omegas he’d had far too much experience with, stirred a strange excitement.
Weirdly, saliva kept pooling under his tongue.

Naturally, Choi Han-geon didn’t stay still through all this.
As he struggled with all his might, Eun-gyeol grabbed the tie from the table and bound his hands.
His gaze suddenly locked onto Han-geon’s face as he glared at him like he wanted to kill him.

Choi Han-geon, bound and helpless, panting and unable to do anything.
Not the gentle, compliant demeanor he always showed him, but Han-geon glaring up with tear-filled eyes……

Seeing a side of him he’d never seen in his life, a dull ache formed in his lower abdomen.
It was exactly the same sensation he’d felt writhing through the early symptoms of rut at the filming site.

After spreading him open as much as he pleased, he withdrew his hand and deliberately stared at the hole with an unabashed gaze.
The flushed skin, struggling even with just one or two fingers, was swollen and twitching.

Perhaps ashamed of being stared at, Choi Han-geon practically begged in a near-cry.
Telling him to stop.
Begging him not to look like that.
Yet the more he begged, the more impossible it became to look away.

“…..”

He had no choice but to admit it.
That he was feeling lust at the sight of that hole.
At that moment, his purpose inverted.
From verification—to gratification.

The desire he’d been forcibly suppressing with rage exploded all at once.
His cock twitched violently, rising beneath the robe.

There was no time to wonder why this was happening.
The surging desire was explosive, like it might choke him.
He felt like he had to shove his cock into the hole right in front of him.
No matter what Choi Han-geon screamed below him, that was the only thought in his mind.

So he did it.
The moment his cock forced its way into the impossibly tight hole, Eun-gyeol briefly stopped breathing.

How could this even be possible?

f*ck—it was beyond words.
It felt like his entire lower body had been electrocuted, then melted away.

It was absurd.
Rather than questioning how he could be thrusting into his friend, the more pressing question was how a man’s hole could feel this good.

He didn’t know.
For now, satisfying this damned, raging lust came first.
He couldn’t think of anything else.
Anything at all……

Like a dog in heat, he clung to Han-geon’s hips, panting.
He bit down on the sweat-slick nape of his neck, slapped his ass.
He grabbed his waist viciously and thrust however he pleased.
Every time he slammed into the deepest point and ground his glans against the swollen flesh, he felt like he was going insane.
Curses spilled out again and again.
This was—truly—ridiculous……

“…Stop… please… it’s too… deep. My stomach feels… weird….”

As if that weren’t enough, the crazy bastard said that too.
He didn’t even process what those words meant.
Crying while getting fucked and saying something like that—any man with a cock would lose his mind and charge harder.
Suddenly, he felt truly relieved that Yoo Junseong hadn’t seen this.
If he had, Eun-gyeol might’ve stopped mid-f*ck just to go kill that bastard.

The one thing he didn’t like was that it felt like he was the only one enjoying himself.
So, somewhat impulsively, he reached for Choi Han-geon’s cock.
It was the same thing he’d seen hundreds—thousands—of times growing up together.

Honestly, a delayed sense of revulsion crept in at having to touch another man’s.
He wondered if it would kill his mood completely—but surprisingly, it didn’t.
It was awkward at first, but once he started touching it, the reactions were amusing.
The thick thing twitching and stiffening the moment he touched it was oddly funny—and cute.

Most of all, watching Choi Han-geon’s face change was the most satisfying part.
The same face that had been begging like he was about to die now told a different story.
He learned something new.
His friend was incredibly weak to pleasure.

Unable to do anything about the erection standing stiff and leaking helplessly, he left it entirely in Eun-gyeol’s hand, begging over and over.
Sometimes he resisted fiercely, hurling curses.
Either way, none of it evoked anything in Eun-gyeol other than excitement.

Pouring his spurting release into the other man’s body was also a remarkably fresh experience.
He’d thought it would be disgusting.
It was something he’d never even imagined in seventeen years—excluding the past few days.

Yet the ecstasy he felt now was beyond description.
When his pleasure-blurred mind finally cleared after climaxing, only one regret remained.

Why did I only find out about something this good now?

“I’m… done. I want to rest now.”

After everything was over, Han-geon said that, utterly exhausted.
As if.
There was no reason something this good had to end after just once.

And if the first time—by his words—had been ‘rape,’ then the second had to be different.
Eun-gyeol wanted to confirm whether the tower he thought had collapsed was still standing strong.

So he casually brought up someone else.
That he needed to deal with his rut anyway, and if Han-geon didn’t want to, he didn’t have to.
In truth, he had zero intention of finding another omega—about as much intention as Yoo Junseong’s d*ck was big.
If Choi Han-geon refused here, he’d planned to force him anyway.

But upon hearing those words, Choi Han-geon looked as if he’d been stabbed through the heart.
He slowly lowered his eyes.
Then, obediently, he spread his legs.
The moment Eun-gyeol saw that, his cock rose again like a madman.

Poor Choi Han-geon.
Why did you start a game you were destined to lose forever like this?

Smiling inwardly, Eun-gyeol thrust in without hesitation.
The tower he thought had collapsed was still standing firm.
That alone satisfied him immensely.
The f*cking awful mood from the night before melted away without a trace.