ACJY C59

There was no word from Detective Oh. His phone and pager were silent. No emails came from his side either. I figured no news was good news. Anyway, the prosecutor in charge had said that for a while, or rather, there’d hardly be any reason to look for me going forward.

Taeheun took the wheel in place of the man, whose eyes were heavy with sleep from missing his nap. The kid chattered, and the man leaned his head against the window, falling asleep. Raindrops fell.

“Jihye, doesn’t your dad like movies or stuff?”

Taking advantage of the man’s slumber, Taeheun asked the kid.

“Movies? Hmm… I dunno.”

“You never watched one with him?”

The kid thought for a moment, then shouted “Yeah!” but quickly lowered his voice.

“Yeah. When I was in third grade, we went to see Antz together.”

“Antz? What’s that?”

“What do you mean? It’s an animated movie.”

“Was that the last one?”

“Probably. I haven’t heard him talk about going to the theater since then.”

“Antz, huh.”

Taeheun pictured the man watching an animated movie with the kid and gave a slight smile.

“But why?” the kid asked.

“No reason, just curious. Since he doesn’t watch TV at all, I wondered if he didn’t like movies either.”

“Oh, is that all?”

The kid looked disappointed.

Just as Taeheun was about to ask why, the man woke up. He sensed they’d arrived home like a ghost. Both the kid and Taeheun got out of the truck, deflated. Handing the car keys to the man, Taeheun muttered, “Talk about bad timing.” The man, clueless, just widened his eyes.

As the saying goes, the thirsty dig the well, so Taeheun finally brought it up.

“Gicheol hyung was saying he went to see a movie. What was so great about it that he was making such a fuss?”

The kid silently mouthed “Wow” and pursed his lips.

“What was it called? Gladi-something. Mr. Gibeom, what did he say?”

“Huh?”

“No, earlier, Gicheol hyung was going on about it while we were working. Said he saw a movie and it was amazing.”

“I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Gladiator!”

Taeheun shouted as if it just came to him. In truth, he’d remembered the title from earlier. While the youth club president was raving about the movie, Taeheun had been thinking about going to the theater alone with the man.

“He said it’s about gladiators, and it sounded really fun.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

The kid thumped his chest in frustration.

“Dad! I think he wants to go see a movie with you. Right?”

“Wow, our Jihye can read minds? That’s awesome!”

Taeheun winked.

The man finally went “Ah,” his face flushing. He buried his head in his rice bowl.

“We could stop by Namchon-ri and catch it. Right?”

“…”

“After church on Sunday, we could head to Namchon-ri and watch it. Perfect, right?”

“Dad, I’m going out with Sojin unnie that day,” the kid said sharply.

The man ate in silence. The kid glared at his father, full of dissatisfaction. When his eyes met Taeheun’s, he shook his head.

After dinner, Taeheun sent the sleepy man to the master bedroom and cleared the table with the kid. Taeheun did the dishes, and the kid swept and wiped down the living room. The man, feeling uneasy, kept coming out and lingering.

“I’ve got this. Don’t you trust me, Mr. Gibeom?”

“No, it’s just, you’re a guest.”

“Ugh, that hurts. You still see me as a guest?”

“No, I didn’t mean…”

When Taeheun pretended to be upset, the man panicked.

“Go wash up and sleep.”

Taking the chance, Taeheun pushed the man’s back.

“I could at least do the laundry.”

“The washing machine’s working hard already.”

“Then, don’t hang the laundry in the yard—put it on the porch. I tied a rope to one of the pillars. Untie it and stretch it to the other one.”

“Got it. Is Mr. Gibeom always this naggy? Like a mother-in-law.”

The kid giggled at their bickering. The man, red-faced, fled to the bathroom.

“Hey, mister.”

“What?”

“Just felt like saying it.”

“Lame.”

Like conspirators, they kept catching each other’s eyes and laughing.

After washing up, the man went to the master bedroom and spread out his bedding before Taeheun could nag. The kid, done cleaning the living room, went to the yard to feed the puppies.

“Jihye, is it raining?”

“No, it stopped. But the clouds are super dark.”

“Alright.”

Waiting for the laundry, Taeheun peeked into the master bedroom. The man was already asleep. Careful not to wake him, Taeheun tiptoed back to the living room.

The dishes he’d just washed were neatly lined up on the drying rack. The table was spotless, and the sink was wiped dry, just as the man always did. Taeheun was tending to the household touched by the man’s care. His chest swelled, ticklish. A warm, pleasant flutter—until the washing machine interrupted.

“Damn thing, no sense of timing.”

Muttering to himself, he headed to the boiler room where the washing machine was.

The boiler room was at the far end, past Taeheun’s room and the bathroom. Close to the back hill, it was noticeably cooler than the rest of the house. Lit only by a small incandescent bulb, the hill visible through the window looked eerie. Even the fearless kid had admitted to avoiding it at night.

Shivering in the cold, Taeheun took the laundry from the machine. Following the man’s example, he transferred it to a basin and carried it to the porch. Forgetting the man’s instructions, he stepped into the yard. He shook out the clothes and hung them on the line, securing them with clothespins.

The kid ran over, grabbing clothes from the basin and handing them to Taeheun. Instead of taking them, Taeheun lifted the kid to the height of the clothesline. The kid, thrilled, hung the laundry.

“Mister, it’s like you’ve always lived with us!”

“Why do you think that?”

“You do things like Dad. Even the order’s the same.”

“You’re right. I’m doing all Mr. Gibeom’s stuff.”

“I think it’s nice.”

“Me too.”

Taeheun hoisted the kid higher, giving him a piggyback ride. The kid squealed. Worried the man might hear, Taeheun glanced back, but there was no sign of him stirring.

They finished hanging the laundry and sat on the porch, chatting. Somehow, they ended up talking about childhood, sharing stories of growing up discriminated against. The kid opened up about a fight with Suho, the grandson of the store grandma.

It wasn’t Suho’s words like “beggar” or “you don’t even have a mom” that set him off—it was calling his dad a “lame servant.” His dad only had a slight leg issue and wasn’t a servant. He worked for fair pay. But Suho bragged that his dad was a Dongjam-ri servant who’d come running for any call. He said his grandma could get him to fix the house or tend the fields for a bag of snacks. In front of the whole class, Suho bet 500 won that his dad would come running.

The kid couldn’t bear to tell his dad, afraid it’d hurt him, and swallowed his anger. Luckily, the teacher was kind. A new graduate, she took the kid’s side, comforted him, and even punished Suho.

The kid was deeper than he seemed, yet retained a childlike innocence. Taeheun was prouder of the man for raising him so well than of the kid himself.

After the kid washed up, Taeheun went to the bathroom last. He’d told the kid to use warm water but, too lazy, washed in cold. The water was icy, but he felt exhilarated. It felt good, somehow, to use the same soap and shampoo as the man.

Before drying off, he cleaned the bathroom. Thinking it’d be easy, he was surprised by how tough it was. Sweating already, he decided to take turns with the man next time. After a final splash of cold water, he dried off. Sniffing, he caught the scent of the towel.

Since the man was asleep, they skipped the daily drama, and the kid went to bed early. Taeheun naturally headed to the master bedroom. His bedding was laid out next to the man’s. The man, shirtless, slept with his chest rising and falling steadily.

Taeheun lay beside him, staring at the ceiling. The fan whirred loudly, and a cool breeze slipped through the slightly open window. Despite the heat from two grown men, it was bearable. His eyes drifted shut.

It was that two-story house again. At the boss’s call, he entered. The family—parents, kids, four of them—were tied up, staring with fear and confusion. The goons smirked at the spectacle. The house’s heat and foul smell made him grimace.

Chrrr, chrrr. Turning at the sound, a goon was pissing in front of the teenage girl, his dick out. The urine hit the wooden floor with a loud splatter. The father, eyes bloodshot, roared.

“Shut up,” Taeheun muttered, covering his ears.

The goon turned, still exposed. Then he became the man. The man, with an innocent face, stood there, dick out, clear liquid streaming from it.

“It’s okay, right?” the man asked, shyly smiling down at himself.

“Of course. It’s pretty.”

Nice shape, good size, the soft tip glistening with water—Taeheun looked at it fondly. His groin grew heavy.

The man nodded toward Taeheun’s crotch. “Oops.”

His pants were bulging.

“Let’s do it together,” the man said.

“Shall we?”

Without shame, Taeheun unzipped. The father glared with bloodshot eyes. The mother stared, dazed. The boy and girl cried.

Pop. His half-erect cock out, the man grinned. A clear stream shot from the man’s urethra. Taeheun stood close, holding his cock in the same pose. It grew larger. His breath quickened. The heat felt like it was melting his brain. Panting like a dog, he stared at the man—or rather, his cock.

Water still flowed from the man’s urethra, but something else came from Taeheun’s. It spurted freely. Sticky, white, it clung to the man’s dark pubes, his swollen cock, and his lower belly.

Ha, ha, ha. Breathing heavily with satisfaction, Taeheun looked into the man’s eyes.