Passion: Suite

He might have been dozing for a [N O V E L I G H T] moment. His low voice was faintly languid. Yet, as if to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, he rose and took a step forward.
“The filthy feeling of burning with worry until you open your eyes—just one day of that in Frankfurt was more than enough.”
Frankfurt.
Taeui recalled that memory—when he thought he might die by this man’s hand. He’d believed himself the only one keeping that moment alive in memory.
“You weren’t really in mortal danger back then, were you?”
Taeui whispered, not blinking.
The truly dangerous one was Ilrey, with his belly slit open. Though he’d spent a day unconscious in the hospital, his wounds had never threatened his life.
“But you nearly died then. I almost killed you.”
Ilrey turned from the minibar with casual indifference and tossed something at Taeui. Catching the beer can traced in a long arc through the air, Taeui watched him. Ilrey poured whiskey into a glass alongside the beer and murmured as if to himself,
“Ever since, I haven’t slept well. Even now.”
“…….”
His low voice sounded somehow weary. It was so unfamiliar that Taeui fell silent. He had never heard Ilrey speak with such tiredness, such gloom.
Taking a sip, then another, Ilrey emptied his glass before meeting Taeui’s gaze—Taeui who didn’t even bother to open the beer can. Finally, Ilrey spoke quietly.
“I won’t hurt you.”
That low tone seemed directed not at Taeui but at himself—a mantra he may have repeated countless times without realizing.
“—No, idiot. I’m the one who hurt you. Look at your right arm and tell me otherwise.”
Taeui muttered through clenched teeth.
Since that long night, had he always thought this way? Ilrey could have killed him in a flash—by whim or mistake—his fingers weapons capable of ending a life in an instant.
A hot surge welled in Taeui’s chest, throbbing beneath his heart.
“And you can hurt me if you want! I wouldn’t even blame you—well, I might for a moment in that instant, but later I won’t come back as a ghost to haunt you!”
Taeui slammed the beer can onto the table and leapt up.
He was angry. It wasn’t a matter that should make him angry, yet he was furious and wounded. At whom? At no one and everyone.
Ilrey could have killed Taeui. In any moment of impulse—with those deadly hands—he might have ended Taeui’s life. That fact was immutable, known to both of them. And that made Taeui angry.
“Your ghost, huh… Just imagining it is the worst horror.”
Ilrey twisted the corner of his mouth and muttered. What was that—was he saying it was terrifying for a ghost to appear in reality, not on film? Or that he didn’t even want to see Taeui’s ghost?
As Taeui chewed these unspoken complaints, his face contorted. The recurring dream of that Frankfurt night—Ilrey’s dark gaze at Taeui as he spoke of living with resolve—his head shaking when he said he couldn’t change his nature—these memories mixed together like lightning.
—What have you been thinking all this time?
—Silently, alone, unlike yourself.
—Perhaps you didn’t speak because you yourself didn’t understand your heart.

“Don’t you hate my ghost?”
Taeui asked abruptly. The answer came at once.
“I do.”
“Why? Are you scared?”
This time Ilrey paused before replying.
“Yes. Terrified. Horrified.”
Hearing that earnest answer, Taeui closed his mouth. If he spoke again, something pathetic would slip out.
—Ah, yes. I’d never want to see your ghost either. It would drive home that you’re gone from this world.
Taeui stared down at the floor. Ilrey downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp, set the empty glass down, and sighed.
“Go back. I’m tired too, need to rest tonight. My sleep won’t be great, though.”
He waved lightly as if the conversation were over and headed for the bed. Taeui glared after him, then muttered,
“You still haven’t eaten dinner.”
Like an angry child, he clenched his fist and spoke in a pout, his voice trembling. Ilrey turned, startled, eyes widening slightly. After a long look at Taeui’s stubborn face, he let out a wry sigh.
“—No, not today. I’m not in the mood.”
“I am! Are you only going to do what you feel like?!”
Taeui exploded, storming around the sofa toward Ilrey.
“Why are you so selfish? Always doing what you want, mulling over things alone that won’t get resolved—what kind of shit is that?!”
Taeui shoved Ilrey forcefully in the chest. Ilrey stumbled onto the bed, and without a word Taeui climbed atop him and yanked down Ilrey’s pants and underwear.
“Taei, wait,”
“No! I said I will!”
“—Okay, but wait. You haven’t showered yet….”
“Shut up! When have you ever cared about that!”
Furious again, Taeui buried his face in Ilrey’s groin. Once he had it in his mouth, there was no forcing it out—he would bite if someone tried. He took the half-erect length into his mouth, sucking hard and deep despite Ilrey’s earlier refusal. It swelled and stiffened at once.
What was this—had he been thinking about it all along? Alone, brooding over memories with heavy heart, feeling anxious beneath the surface—so unlike him.
Don’t do that. I’ll sigh at this weight enough for both of us. You don’t need to be anxious too. We don’t need balance here.
Taeui realized that although he often sighed at harsh realities, he rarely fretted or worried for long. Ilrey’s burden might be heavier than his own—oddly so.
To die by another’s hand, or to kill with his own. Neither thought pleasant, but which was more horrific?
“…….”
A large hand stroked Taeui’s head, and rage welled up again in his chest. He pulled the length from his throat with a gasp, lifting himself up. Grabbing the hand that caressed his hair, he snarled,
“What is this! You know how much I love these hands of yours! But look at this—torn to shreds by a blade, scabbed in blood! Why do you hurt your hands as you please, it’s infuriating!”
“……Alright. I’ll be careful not to hurt my hands again.”
“It’s not just your hands! Same for you—don’t hurt yourself carelessly! You’re the one I love! If you want to get hurt, get my permission first!!”
Taeui shook Ilrey by the nape as if ready to throttle him. He was angry, furious, heartbroken and indignant—yet didn’t understand why he felt such affection for this man.
Yes, crazy, insane—but he loved him. Every part of him.
Taeui’s fierce glare met Ilrey’s quietly odd expression until Ilrey spoke softly,
“—I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”
“Good, try! Don’t get hurt!”
By my hands, even.
Even if I hurt you, don’t get hurt. Don’t let me harm you. Don’t let me. That would be the most disgustingly painful wound of all.
“I too—can’t promise, but I’ll make sure I never die by your hand. No matter what happens, I won’t disappear from your side. So I won’t die by your hand.”
Taeui murmured in a twisted voice. Ilrey’s eyes seemed to widen. That feeble promise from his lips hung like a single thread in a spiderweb over hell’s sky.
In an instant, he pulled Taeui close. Between their lips, he whispered softly in a faintly excited tone,
“…Yes. Promise.”
Yes, promise.
Go ahead and kill me with your hand. Even if I end my life by my own, I’ll never let myself die by yours.
Taeui bit the tongue that licked his lips. He devoured Ilrey’s lips too. Embracing him, he deepened the kiss until he was breathless.
“Taei…Taei…”
Even though it was impossible to hear, Taeui swore he heard Ilrey whisper his name. Taeui returned the whisper inside his own mouth, convinced Ilrey could feel it.
His chest grew hot—more than his chest, his throat burned with heat, his closed eyes, his mind—all ablaze. That heat spread through his entire body, as warm as the body of Ilrey pressed against him.
“…….”
Seated atop Ilrey’s stomach, Taeui reached back with one hand to stroke the engorged length at his own crotch. The mass felt impressively substantial in his palm, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he broke their kiss and drew back slightly.
“…You said you weren’t in the mood, but what is this? You’re fully hard.”
Taeui teased, and Ilrey seemed to smile before replying softly,
“You left it mid-suck. You haven’t finished me yet. I’d like you to.”
Taeui huffed in a pout. Fine, I will, he muttered, lifting his hips. One hand gripped Ilrey’s length while the other spread his own buttocks. Aligning them, he tensed reflexively, then relaxed and sank down.
“Tae…”
“…!”
Ilrey seemed about to call out in surprise, but Taeui couldn’t hear him—his nerve endings all focused below.
It hadn’t been even a month. Barely a month with his eyes closed, yet his body was stiff. The thick pillar pressed in, head barely at the threshold, and a dizzying pressure overwhelmed him.
“You bastard… You got bigger, didn’t you… damn it…”
A curse nearly slipped out, but he choked it back—unintentionally. His vision darkened suddenly, his strength sapped, and he slid fully onto Ilrey, letting maybe a few more centimeters slide in.
“……, ……, …—.”
His lower half trembled. It wasn’t pain so much as the sensation of his insides being pushed upward that churned his stomach. Yet it did hurt—a numbing ache dulling sensation below.
“Taei… enough. We promised. You can just use your mouth tonight.”
Ilrey patted Taeui’s hip as he sat half-impaled, sweat beading his forehead. Watching Ilrey, Taeui forced a shaky smile through the sweat on his face.