PV Ch.2 Part 2

Bomin’s fingers dug into Won Seongwoo’s hips, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, his vision already starting to fade at the edges.

He wrapped his tongue around the base of Won Seongwoo’s c*ck, the one part his mouth couldn’t quite contain, and began to suck, his tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges. 

He used his hands too, stroking and squeezing, trying to distract Won Seongwoo from his impending blackout.

“Haa, ngh…”

It was enough. The c*ck in his mouth twitched, and Bomin felt the telltale pulsing as Won Seongwoo came, his essence flooding his mouth. At the same moment, he felt his own magic being drawn out, pulled into Won Seongwoo, a sensation like shards of glass scraping against his insides. 

“Ha… ha… haa…”

Won Seongwoo pulled away, releasing Bomin’s head and staggering back. Bomin’s head throbbed, his scalp tender where it had been gripped.

Won Seongwoo casually brushed aside the strands of dark hair clinging to his hand.

Bomin’s body, no longer held upright by Won Seongwoo’s grip, slumped against the wall. He stared at Won Seongwoo, his chest heaving, as the other man calmly adjusted his clothes.

Even in such a dingy location, Won Seongwoo looked effortlessly handsome in his black Esper uniform. 

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped Bomin’s lips. Won Seongwoo paused in his ministrations, frowning slightly at the sound. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off about Bomin today. Normally, after a rough session, Bomin would be reduced to tears, trembling in his arms.

And yet, even with tears staining his face, there was no fear in his eyes. He met Won Seongwoo’s gaze directly, a disconcerting glint in their depths.

“Thank you… for the Guiding.”

His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, each word carefully measured. And those words… Bomin was the one who should be thanking him, not the other way around.

“That was the most intense blowjob I’ve ever had.”

He sounded like a critic reviewing a film. For the first time, Won Seongwoo found himself truly looking at Bomin. 

Even in the shadows, his eyes were strangely captivating, dark as if they had absorbed all the color from the world around them. 

Won Seongwoo was suddenly struck by the thought that there was a desolate wind blowing within those eyes, a chilling emptiness. And as Bomin blinked slowly, the unsettling amusement that had flickered on his face vanished.

“Haa… Now I’m hungry again… See you around, Won Seongwoo.”

Bomin was the first to leave. He rose to his feet, swaying slightly as he did so, his legs unsteady beneath him.

His vision swam, the edges tinged with black, and a burning hunger gnawed at his stomach. 

His shirt, stained with various fluids, was beyond saving. Won Seongwoo watched him go, his eyes lingering on Bomin’s retreating figure until he disappeared around the corner. 

***

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt this wrecked…”

Despite his delicate appearance, Bomin had a naturally strong constitution. He rarely fell ill, even during the changing seasons when everyone else seemed to catch a cold.

Of course, on the rare occasions when he did get sick, it hit him hard, as if making up for all the lost time. Thankfully, those occasions were few and far between.

S*x was as natural as breathing to Bomin. Even with daily s*xual acts, it was rare for him to feel physically drained.

But then again, Han Biseong, Song Jaeho, Won Seongwoo…

All three were exceptionally well-endowed. The blowjob he’d just given Won Seongwoo, on top of everything else, had finally pushed him over the edge.

“Ugh, so dizzy…”

Bomin thought he was walking straight, but his steps were erratic, his body swaying precariously. 

“Haa, ha…”

His breath hitched in his chest, coming out in short, shallow gasps. His lips, already swollen and bruised, felt hot and tender. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to tilt. His legs buckled, unable to support his weight any longer. 

“Some… one…”

His eyelids fluttered closed, his vision fading to black. All he could make out through the haze were the black uniforms of the Espers. 

He felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist, lifting him effortlessly. His head spun, the blood rushing in his ears, making him feel disoriented, like a piece of laundry tossed around in a dryer. 

“Hey… I’m dizzy… put me down…” 

He hadn’t expected to be swept into anyone’s arms, much less carried like a princess. He wouldn’t have minded a little more gentleness.

The man carrying him simply supported him by his thighs, his grip firm but impersonal, and continued walking. Bomin reached out blindly, his fingers tangling in the man’s shirt, seeking some kind of grounding. 

“Ah…”

The man stopped walking and slapped his ass, the sting bringing a gasp to Bomin’s lips. It wasn’t a hard slap, but his backside was already covered in bruises from his previous encounters. 

As if rewarding him for his silence, the man patted his ass gently before resuming his stride. 

Bomin scowled, but his irritation was overshadowed by the wave of dizziness washing over him. 

He couldn’t even see the man’s face, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And the uniform offered no clues as to his identity, only confirming that he was an Esper. One thing was certain, though: he was tall and powerfully built. 

Bomin tried to remember the builds of the men he had been with, searching for some clue, some point of reference, but the dizziness was intensifying, his thoughts becoming increasingly muddled. 

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, all that remained was the man’s scent—strangely familiar, yet tinged with a subtle loneliness.

***

“It hurts…”

Bomin hated pain. It had a way of making everything worse, turning even the smallest inconveniences into unbearable burdens, chipping away at his usual pragmatism.

He had blacked out while being carried by the stranger. Now, he found himself waking up on familiar, clean sheets – the ones he’d changed himself.

“No medicine… no food…”

He’d already checked the mini fridge. It was completely bare, not even a bottle of water. Getting something to eat meant leaving his room, a task that seemed insurmountable in his current state. 

His clothes clung to his sweat-dampened skin, the feeling unpleasant and cloying. He wanted to shower, but his body refused to cooperate, as if punishing him for his recent choices. 

“Won Seongwoo, that bastard…”

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, laced with a bitterness he hadn’t realized he possessed. Even before he’d seen the chat logs, he’d known that Won Seongwoo didn’t view him as a human being, much less an equal. His scalp still throbbed where the Esper had gripped him.

His voice was hoarse, a mere shadow of its usual tone, and his throat felt raw. The thought of eating, of anything spicy or hot passing his torn lips, made him wince.

“This isn’t over…” 

The words left his lips like a whispered threat, hollow in the silence of the room. He buried his face in the pillow, his body aching, his heart heavy with an unfamiliar loneliness. He wondered, for a fleeting moment, if his life would feel less empty if there was someone who’d care enough to check up on him, someone to offer comfort when he was hurting. 

The thought spurred him into action. He had to get out of bed, had to move, had to distract himself before the darkness swallowed him whole. 

“Ugh…”

He’d only taken a single step away from the bed when his legs buckled, sending him crashing to the floor. 

“Guess I don’t have… teleportation powers…”

He lay there for a moment, his head spinning, tears stinging his eyes. The feeling of helplessness, of being trapped in a body that refused to obey, filled him with a frustrated despair. 

The sound of knocking cut through the silence, the sharp rapping sound repeating at regular intervals.

He blinked slowly, his head pounding, and turned towards the door. Silence followed the knocking. He pushed himself up, dragging his aching body across the floor towards the source of the sound. The door slid open, revealing an empty hallway.

“…What the…” 

Just when he thought this was another childish prank, like the one where they knock on doors and run away, his eyes landed on a bag sitting on the floor in front of the door. 

Hesitantly, he opened it. Inside, he found cold medicine, a tube of ointment for bruises, bandages, instant porridge, and a bottle of water. 

“What is this? A magical fairy tale?”

He poked at the contents of the bag, a strange warmth spreading through his chest. No one had ever taken care of him like this, not without expecting something in return.

“Beef and vegetable… my favorite.”

Even the flavor of the porridge was perfect. 

His heart ached with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. He hadn’t realized how much he craved a simple act of kindness, someone to acknowledge his pain, to show him even the smallest amount of care. 

“Whoever you are… thank you.”

The hallway was still empty, but he spoke the words anyway, his voice barely a whisper.