Three Eight-Chapter 40: 18+

From the tip of Hongju’s untouched cock, thick, cloudy fluid dripped out in slow spurts. Watching his rumpled T-shirt get stained only made the muscles in Mu-gyeong’s thigh tighten, his lower abdomen tingling. At the edge of climax, Mu-gyeong let go of Hongju’s slender throat and began to pound into him violently. He fixed his gaze on Hongju’s face, now flushed and panting raggedly.

"Haah, haah."

"Nnngh, ah, hhh..."

His eyes were wet and red. He couldn’t even close them—his thin body shivered and bounced with every thrust. As it did, the cum pooling on his flat stomach trickled down to stain the blanket beneath him.

It wasn’t anything particularly special. So why did it feel so damn obscene? Mu-gyeong bit down on the inside of his cheek as he came. He stayed buried inside, releasing everything into him, and Hongju trembled as he instinctively covered his lower abdomen with shaking hands. His fingertips brushed against the cum leaking out.

"Gu Hongju."

Even as he came, Mu-gyeong kept moving his hips, pushing in deep. He tapped Hongju’s bruised cheek with the flat of his hand.

"Nngh, mmph."

The dark eyes that had been fixed on the ceiling slowly shifted to meet his. For the first time, those usually dry, emotionless eyes flickered with something—though it was a messy mix of pleasure and fear, it was something human.

"That’s way better."

Muttering with a faint smile, Mu-gyeong gave a subtle thrust that sent a tremor through Hongju. The sensation under his skin made him dig his nails into his belly, scratching at the prickling heat. Mu-gyeong pulled out slowly, withdrawing the cock that had been stirring deep inside. Holding the shaft, he flicked the tip against Hongju’s scrotum, shaking out the last of his arousal.

The reddened, twitching entrance pulsed and spat out globs of thick semen. Breathing heavily, Mu-gyeong dipped his fingers into the runoff and pushed it back in. He repeated this a few times, and the entrance soon became coated in sticky, white foam.

"It feels weird... my body, ah."

Hongju mumbled through hiccupped sobs, instinctively pulling his knees in. But Mu-gyeong pressed down on his groin, forcing his legs back open.

"It’s not weird. You’re just a little pervert."

Still half-hard, he grabbed his cock, now flushed and red, and smeared more cum over the perineum. Then he gently rubbed around the entrance, now sticky and swollen.

"Ahhh..."

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As the head pushed back in, prying the entrance open again, another moan slipped from Hongju’s throat. Mu-gyeong, his lips dry and chapped, lowered his upper body until they were pressed skin to skin, no space between them.

Then came the rhythm—he would pull out slightly, only to slam back in, rough and deep. The bedding below them grew soaked and wrinkled, all but destroyed. Until bright light spilled through the window, past the curtain that didn’t fully shut, the violent sex continued.

The sensation of the blanket brushing against his shoulder made Hongju snap his eyes open. It wasn’t even evening yet—the light slicing across the room was still strong.

"Yeah, not right away. You need to wait a bit."

Mu-gyeong’s voice. It sounded strangely unfamiliar, since all he’d heard during sex were grunts and moans. There were rustling noises in the dark, as if he was getting dressed. Hongju shut his eyes again.

"That should do it."

The sound of breathing was close, and then came the touch—fingers brushing his earlobe. Mu-gyeong had bitten it so many times that even the slightest graze burned sharply. Hongju flinched, his lashes trembling, and turned his head away. A quiet chuckle echoed beside his ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) pillow.

"Like they’d know anything. Just scare them a bit and make them sign."

Mu-gyeong walked past his feet. Talking on the phone, he slipped on his shoes and opened the front door.

Only when the door clicked shut did Hongju open his eyes again. The room was still dark, still cold, and the sour, metallic smell still lingered in the air. But his hips and the blanket that had been soaked were now completely dry.

"......"

From outside, there were distant sounds—some of them sounding like a washing machine spinning. He wanted to open a window and air the place out, but his whole body hurt too much to move. It was a different kind of pain from being beaten. A dull ache in his pelvis and thighs, the raw, burning throb between his legs that felt as if something had been torn open. Hongju swallowed the tight breath that surged up from his chest.

He drifted in and out of sleep, more like fainting than resting. Every time he woke, he checked the strip of light across the floor. Eventually, it had dimmed. That meant it was time to get up.

"Ah..."

With a stiff groan, he forced his aching body upright. Tossing the blanket aside, he reached between his legs, fingertips brushing along the inside of his thighs. A place where bruises rarely showed. But now it was covered in deep, blue blotches and blood-congested marks.

"......"

You got used to beatings after a while. Would this be the same? What he’d feared all this time had finally happened—and it hadn’t been Guppping, but Mu-gyeong. Maybe... that was the better outcome?

Rubbing his raw, stinging eyes with the back of his hand, Hongju let out a low groan and sat up.

***

Mu-gyeong’s car wasn’t parked in front of the house. That was a relief. They weren’t anything to each other, and yet they’d had sex—how was he supposed to look the man in the eye again?

Hongju zipped up his padded jacket all the way to his chin as he climbed the stairs.

“Hey, look who’s here.”

Guppping, who had been standing with his back to the desk, turned sharply at the sound of footsteps. Their eyes met—Guppping looked unusually pleased.

“Fuckin’ hell, the stench of cum is suffocating in here.”

He covered his nose and waved a hand exaggeratedly in the air. Hongju, caught off guard, instinctively inhaled slightly—but all he could smell was the musty scent of this rotting building.

“I thought you went off somewhere else, but no, you took it up the ass, huh? Must’ve fucked each other so hard the guy paid off your debt in cash, like five billion won or something?”

Hongju’s eyes widened.

“...Billion?”

“Yeah, five billion, fucker! That bastard wiped five billion off your debt! No more whining about collateral or whatever the hell he was bitching about. What a fucking relief.”

Guppping thumped his chest like a man unburdened. That good mood made sense now—he’d gotten his hands on a ton of money.

“Five billion...?”

They had talked about the debt before they had sex, that much he remembered. But he never imagined Mu-gyeong would actually pay it off. Especially not that much. Five billion. He repeated it over and over under his breath, trying to process it.

Now he had about four billion left. In just one day, the number had dropped so dramatically it didn’t even feel real.

“Why do you think he left four billion, though? Didn’t do a good enough job last night? Maybe I should’ve taught you a few tricks before handing you over. Tsk.”

That leftover four billion—he was sure it was to keep him tied to the house. No matter what else happened, his role was still to watch Guppping until construction ended.

Hongju stood there, dazed. Guppping clicked his tongue and tugged at the zipper of his jacket.

“Let’s see.”

“What the hell are you doing?! You crazy—!”

He stumbled backward and tried to push him away, but Guppping was relentless. He yanked the zipper down and pulled at the collar of his undershirt.

“Shit, look at those bite marks. Rich bastards are the nastiest, I swear.”

It was the mark from being choked hard enough to nearly pass out—but to Guppping, it looked like the remnants of a wild night of passion.

“Let go.”

Hongju swatted his hand away roughly, shouldered past him, and strode across the hall.

“Couple more times and you’ll be a goddamn tycoon, huh? Huh?”

Even now, shame and humiliation weren’t what came first—it was confusion. Did Mu-gyeong really knock off five billion for one night in bed? Was it truly just one night? Or would he dangle that debt over his head like Guppping did?

Mu-gyeong had always seemed like he came from a different world. He didn’t seem like someone who’d behave as crudely as Guppping. But still... the anxiety wouldn’t go away.

Ignoring whatever vulgarity Guppping was spouting behind him, Hongju peeked into room after room, pretending to be busy checking that things were in order. He knew nothing had changed since he left yesterday, but the act gave him something to do.

In one of the rooms sat Choi-gun, chomping noisily on bread. When he noticed Hongju, he jolted upright in surprise.

“Shit, thought you were Guppping.”

“He’s right out there. Eat quick before he starts yelling about how disgusting it is.”

Hongju leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye to see if Guppping was moving.

“But why’d you come in today? Isn’t it your day off?”

“Guppping said he had something for me. You want some bread?”

“No thanks.”

Strangely enough, Hongju rarely felt hunger while in the house. Thirst sometimes, but hunger rarely. He didn’t even glance at the bread Choi-gun offered, just tapped his foot against the doorframe.

“You should eat. Huh? Next time we’re on the same shift, I’ll treat you to some greasy meat. You’re so scrawny you look like you’ll break in half. Honestly...”

Tsk. Choi-gun clicked his tongue and took another bite of bread. He didn’t finish that sentence. Honestly... what? Pathetic? Gross? Unbearable to look at? Any of those would’ve fit. But Hongju didn’t feel wounded. Living like trash on the floor had long been familiar.

“Ah, I left some laundry hanging at home. I’ll fold it when I get there.”

“Sure.”

Choi-gun didn’t seem to care. He just licked the cream off his lips like that was the most important thing in the world.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

A thug’s voice cut in from behind. Choi-gun flinched again, shoulders jerking. The thug snickered at his reaction, then locked eyes with Hongju and lifted his brows in a lewd gesture.

“Fat fuck thinks he’s somebody now. I’m outta here.”

Choi-gun pulled another bread roll from the black bag on his wrist and shoved it into Hongju’s coat pocket without asking.

“You eat this. That fatass can lose weight.”

“What, you rationing food now? Huh?”

The two of them bickered as they left the room. Hongju stared quietly at the bulk in his pocket.

"......"

He pressed down with his fingers—the bag crinkled. It was real. This was reality. But his mind was still floating. Maybe it was the nearness of a freedom he’d never truly experienced—so close now it felt like he could almost grasp it—and maybe that was why he felt so unsettled.