F Side Story 17

Siwoo didn’t press Yeonho about the truth of that forgotten night. He emptied his mind and waited until Yeonho chose to speak on his own. If Yeonho had already learned the truth and still didn’t say anything, then surely there was a reason.

Right now, Yeonho was lying with his head resting on Siwoo’s thigh, positioned between his legs. He was staring intently at Siwoo’s genitals, as if determined to memorize every detail, the shape, the color, even the faint veins. Slowly brushing it with his fingers, he lightly pressed his tongue against it, then rubbed his lips over it while watching with curiosity as it swelled and hardened.

Siwoo gently stroked Yeonho’s hair, letting him play with his body however he wanted. Yeonho lightly bit the tip of his glans before pulling away, then moved his head lower to inspect his scrotum and asked,

“Hyung, I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“If you were asleep, would it be okay if I touched you however I wanted? Undressed you, looked at your body, took pictures, even had sex with you. Would that be okay?”

The first thing Siwoo felt at that question was pity. He now understood all too well why Yeonho had allowed only him to do such things back then. He could imagine how Yeonho must have felt, repeating those words over and over. Soon, the pity faded and was replaced by admiration for his boldness.

Pulling Yeonho upward, licking his precum as he came, Siwoo brought him into his arms. He set Yeonho down onto his own erection, and Yeonho gently rocked his hips, grinding against him. Pressing his chest tightly against Yeonho’s back, Siwoo sucked on the tender skin of his neck and asked,

“Did you want to try it?”

“Of course. I want to do everything with you. Every dirty, filthy thing. I think about it all the time, because I love you too much.”

“You really thought I’d say no?”

“Well, you hate that kind of thing even between us. No matter how many times I ask, you never do it to me. So I thought you’d hate it if I did it to you.”

“Ah, so that’s what you were thinking.”

“Imagine me doing something like that while you’re too drunk to move. Touching you however I want, trying to have sex with you. How do you think you’d feel?”

Yeonho smiled faintly. He understood the fear and shame of being touched when you couldn’t move. Siwoo would be no different. If anything, he was even more vulnerable to that kind of situation than Yeonho.

But what Yeonho really wondered was whether Siwoo’s reaction to Park Jihyun had been because it wasn’t Yeonho, or because he had an instinctive rejection to the act itself. Deep down, Yeonho believed that Siwoo would say, “You’re the only exception.” “My heart and eyes already belong to you, how could I not allow that from you?” Something like that.

But Siwoo didn’t answer so easily. Instead, he playfully turned Yeonho’s head to the side, gave him a brief kiss on the lips, then another. Yeonho stuck out his tongue and slowly licked along Siwoo’s mouth.

Siwoo grabbed the back of Yeonho’s neck, pulled him into a deep kiss, sucked his tongue, then kissed various parts of his face without giving any answer.

Eventually, Yeonho, now frustrated, pinched Siwoo’s thigh and asked,

“So, I really can’t?”

“If you’re curious, try it for yourself.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll get so drunk in front of you sometime that I won’t be able to move. Then try it. You can find out for yourself if I hate it or not.”

Siwoo stopped there, finding it fun to tease him. He didn’t realize how much weight those words carried. For Siwoo, this was a major decision. It meant giving up the last bit of control in front of Yeonho.

Yeonho, visibly annoyed, glared at him.

“Fine. While you’re still awake, I’m going to do whatever I want.”

Spreading his legs and lifting his hips slightly, Yeonho grabbed Siwoo’s erection and aligned the tip with his entrance. Without hesitation, he began to take him in.

Siwoo held Yeonho’s hips, watching in fascination as his length was slowly swallowed by such a narrow space.

“How does this tiny butt take me so well?”

“Ugh… you only talk like that when we’re having sex…”

Squinting and letting out a shaky breath, Yeonho fiddled with the spot where their bodies connected and said,

“I think Park Jihyun was planning to get into your room from the beginning. My mom saw him slip in just before the door closed. Not long after, you dragged him out by the collar.”

Hearing confirmation of a lost memory, Siwoo sighed with relief and nuzzled Yeonho’s ear like a child asking for praise.

“Yeonho-ya, aren’t I amazing?”

“Yeah. So pretty.”

Yeonho tightened his muscles like a gift, clenching around Siwoo. His insides were already tight, forcing Siwoo’s length in and pressing back hard against the inner walls. Siwoo lowered his head and groaned.

Yeonho ignored his whispered plea to relax and clenched down even harder, liking the way Siwoo moaned in his ear.

“I’m going to do what I want right now.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It does. But you’re hurting too…”

Yeonho had no intention of telling Siwoo everything Park Jihyun had done. Siwoo had realized what was happening and defended himself. Since Jihyun was unlikely to show up again, there was no need to revive that unpleasant experience for someone who couldn’t even remember it.

Siwoo, even drunk, had thought he was tainted. He wouldn’t be able to brush it off. He’d blame himself. He was so obsessive about cleanliness that he might even scrub himself raw.

After thinking about it all day, Yeonho finally understood why his mother had hidden everything from him after he lost his own memory.
The need to cut off the hand that had dared to touch Siwoo was a feeling he would keep to himself. All he needed to do was thank Siwoo, praise him, and hold him close.

***

Yeonho’s mother requested a meeting with Siwoo’s parents. That alone was enough to serve as a warning not to lay a hand on her son again. Siwoo’s parents agreed. But since it might be dangerous for her to attend alone, Yeonho decided to go with her.

His father wouldn’t be coming. He wasn’t the type to refuse if Yeonho or his mother sincerely asked, but they chose not to ask. She agreed.

Realistically, could a man who had already lost two sons really care about protecting Joo Yeonho and Kim Siwoo’s lives? He still believed Siwoo had caused Seong Junhee’s death. So Yeonho didn’t expect anything from him, nor would he feel disappointed by his absence.

Yeonho didn’t want his father’s sincerity. He just wanted him to do the bare minimum, feel guilty as a bystander, as his mother’s husband.

He had a hard time convincing Siwoo not to go with them. Though he had asked Siwoo to protect him, this didn’t mean confronting his parents directly. All Yeonho wanted was for Siwoo to stay by his side. That was enough.

Yeonho didn’t want Siwoo to face his parents again. Forcing a victim and their abuser into the same room was violence. Especially in families, abstract ideas like affection and blood ties often pressured the victim to forgive. So it was Yeonho’s duty to stop it.

They arrived at the hotel where the meeting was scheduled. As Yeonho walked toward the elevator, he felt a chill behind him. There was a shadow following him. In such a public place on a busy weekend, who would stalk him so openly?

He turned around. It was Siwoo’s father. Before Yeonho could bow in greeting, the man’s hand shot upward. In a public place. At a meeting arranged with Yeonho’s mother. He was doing this here?

Clearly, the tactics had changed. Since they failed to break the couple through crude schemes, now they wanted to humiliate Yeonho into abandoning Siwoo.

As the hand reached past his shoulder and rose above his head, Yeonho saw in that hand the same one that had once struck him, Seong Junhee’s hand.

You’re a curse. You’re ruining Kim Yeonho’s bright future. His voice echoed in Yeonho’s head. He was terrified. He wanted to flinch away, duck his head, run from that hand.

But then he felt like he was becoming Siwoo, being beaten by his parents.

No. He couldn’t let Siwoo feel that fear again. Not ever.

Yeonho was now Siwoo’s protector. He couldn’t cower. He couldn’t bow his head. He couldn’t show fear.

Because then, he would lose Siwoo.

He straightened his shoulders. Raised his head. Stared not at the hand but into the man’s eyes.

I’m not someone who ruins Kim Yeonho’s life. I’m the only one who can protect his future.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t close his eyes. Didn’t shrink back.

He did it.

The hand that had risen above his head was now caught at the wrist. Yeonho looked. A man’s hand held Siwoo’s father back. It was his own father.

“You can’t raise your hand to someone else’s child too, President Kim. Not in public.”

His father had come. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Had this man really taken time out of his weekend for this? To protect him?

He turned to Siwoo’s father and smiled.

“Let’s talk calmly. From one guilty father to another.”