TTS Vol 1 Ch 3.5
by lily plumGong Yunseon gulped down her beer and scrunched up her nose, letting out a satisfied “Aaah.”
“This is the life, this is why I am alive.”
Sitting across from her, Park Sihyun reached for the snacks again. Yunseon slapped his hand hard, making a loud smack.
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“Go upstairs and sleep. Don’t get another earful from your brother. What time is it, anyway? Is it still a long way before your brother comes?”
As Yunseon checked the time on her phone, Sihyun sighed deeply and cradled his head in his hands.
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“Mom, can I move out?”
“No, no.”
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“Or can’t you atleast kick hyung out, Mom? Seriously, I’m not some kind of dingcho1 anymore. I’m a working adult, Mom. Do I still have to go to bed before ten o’clock at my age? I’m old enough to decide, Mom?”
“What’s a ‘dingcho’?”
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“Elementary school kid.”
“Oh, you little…! Why are you like this?! You’re not a little kid, are you?! You’re twenty-four years old and still talking like an elementary school kid in front of your mother! You’re only presentable because your brother’s around! I can just imagine what you’d be like living alone. You’d probably spend all day on your laptop making up photos again or jerking off, sleeping until noon and then showing up late to work!”
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“Mom! What’s with the ‘jerking off’ talk with your son?!”
Sihyun glanced nervously at Mrs. Shin, who was busy washing dishes and cleaning up. He put his index finger to his lips, gesturing to his mother to be quiet. Mom, come on…
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Yunseon, seemingly unfazed, continued to gulp down her beer. She scrunched up her nose again with another “Aaah,” then crushed the empty can in her hand.
“Sihyun, think about it. Just imagine it’s just you, me, Mrs. Shin, and… uh… what’s her name again?”
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“Mrs. Lee.”
“Right, Mrs. Lee. Just the four of us living here in this huge house. Doesn’t that sound terrifying?”
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Yunseon gestured dramatically around the spacious house, then pretended to shiver. Sihyun tilted his head, looking at her.
“Mom, why did you leave out Dad?”
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“Can I really say your father lives here? Your father’s relationship with this house is… I don’t know… Like a public restroom he uses when he’s desperate.”
“Mom, come on, don’t say things like that.”
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“I’m saying what needs to be said, you little…!”
Yunseon forced her clenched jaw to relax and put on a refined smile.
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“Your brother can be picky, I admit. But, Sihyun, do you think he enjoys being that way? Have you ever thought that he’s filling in for your father, who’s so busy with government work that we barely see his face? Don’t you think your brother wants to live on his own too?”
“Mom.”
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“Yes?”
“I think hyung is gaseuraiting you.”
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“What’s gaseuraiting?”
“You know, gaslighting.”
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“You little…!”
Smack! Sihyun’s head snapped forward.
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Ow, Mom! he yelled, clutching the back of his head. Just then, Mrs. Lee came rushing down the stairs, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Madam, the Prosecutor is here.”
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“What?!”
Gong Yunseon, who had been sitting comfortably, nearly tipped over backward along with her chair.
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“Oh my! I didn’t hear the car!”
“He seems to have walked.”
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“Oh my! Why does he walk on the days I drink?! I’m going crazy!”
Gong Yunseon frantically scooped up the empty beer cans and snack wrappers in one arm and gestured urgently to Mrs. Shin, who was approaching, to clean up.
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Because Park Chigyeong absolutely hated it when his mother drank, and Gong Yunseon was extremely sensitive to Chigyeong’s disapproval.
Everyone around her found it strange how much she tiptoed around her own son. She found it strange herself. These days, she felt like telling them to experience him firsthand. Whether it was due to his profession or his environment, his intimidating gaze was different from ordinary people.
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“Ah, Mrs. Shin! Hide this somewhere! Quick!”
“Yes, yes, Madam.”
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“Mom! I’m going upstairs! I’m going to pretend I’ve been asleep since nine!”
Park Sihyun, who had been complaining just moments ago about Gong Yunseon being gaslighted by his brother, wasn’t much different from his mother.
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As Sihyun turned to Yunseon and started up the stairs, he felt a sudden chill. Slowly tilting his head up, he saw a large shadow looming over him.
H… Hyung…
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Sihyun’s face paled as if he had encountered a monster.
“Y…You’re here?”
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Looking up at his towering brother, Sihyun forced a wide, exaggerated smile. Although Sihyun wasn’t short, he always felt small in front of his older brother.
Park Chigyeong silently rolled up his shirt sleeve, checked his watch, and stared intently at Sihyun.
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Why aren’t you in bed at this hour?
That harsh question seemed to emanate from his brother’s tightly closed lips.
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“I… I was just coming down for some water. G-Good work today, hyung.”
Trying to escape trouble, Sihyun grabbed his brother’s briefcase and offered a nervous chuckle. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he asked,
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“But hyung, why are you wet?”
“Oh my! Our Prosecutor Park! You’ve worked so hard upholding justice for our nation today!”
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Gong Yunseon suddenly approached, clapping her hands elegantly and humming. Then, she began to help Sihyun take off Chigyeong’s jacket, but then she stopped abruptly. The suit jacket was damp.
“Oh? Is it raining outside? Or is that… the smell of alcohol?”
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Park Chigyeong gently pushed Gong Yunseon away as she sniffed his suit jacket, retrieving his jacket from her hand and his briefcase from Park Sihyun. With a simple, “I’m tired,” he headed upstairs.
Gong Yunseon and Park Sihyun exchanged glances and breathed a sigh of relief as they watched Chigyeong ascend the stairs.
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* * *
Entering his bedroom, Chigyeong’s first act was to loosen his tie and pull it off his neck. He undid his shirt buttons, unbuckled his belt, removed his suit trousers, followed by his underwear.
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Completely naked, he walked into the bathroom as if flaunting his muscular thighs and toned buttocks. He settled into the bathtub, already filled with warm water.
Mrs. Lee, the housekeeper, had already prepared the bath for him, timed perfectly for his arrival home from work.
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Chigyeong tapped the bottom of his cigarette pack, pulling out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and lit it with his lighter, taking a long drag.
Hoo, exhaling a long plume of smoke, he tilted his head back and casually ran a wet hand through his messy hair before reclining in the tub. With an impassive expression, he reached down with his free right hand and grasped his penis. A few slow strokes up and down and his dark-red member quickly swelled in size.
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He inhaled deeply, drawing the smoke into his lungs until his cheeks hollowed, then shifted his gaze towards the bathroom window. His face was remarkably emotionless for someone who was masturbating.
He exhaled another long stream of smoke, tilting his head back once more before closing his eyes.
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An image surfaced in the darkness. The delicate pulse he’d felt beneath his fingertips when he’d gripped the back of that child’s neck, two years ago, still lingered. And that same, unchanging, youthful scent. That damned youthful scent.
His impassive mask cracked, his face twisting in a grimace. He began to pump his penis faster, his large hand moving rapidly up and down.
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Splash, splash. Clear droplets of water scattered with the rough movements of his hand. The prominent veins on the back of his hand mirrored the violent appearance of his engorged penis.
‘I’m not a student anymore, though. Prosecutor Park Chigyeong, you fucking piece of trash.’
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A sneer escaped his lips along with the exhaled smoke.
Chigyeong stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the tub and picked up his phone with his free hand.
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His eyes scanned a message he received silently, a specific address burning itself into his memory. On the illuminated screen, partially obscured by water droplets, were the words “[Game Hall]”.
He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. The orange glow flared, and in the ensuing cloud of grey smoke, his face appeared and disappeared repeatedly.
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Tossing his phone aside carelessly, he closed his eyes again, increasing the speed and force of his hand.
Twenty-four-year-old Kang Taeri, now suitably corrupted and experienced in the ways of the world.
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Kang Taeri, finally becoming prey.
Ah…
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A bead of sweat, or perhaps bathwater, formed on his furrowed brow. He reached his climax, picturing the smooth, youthful flesh he had glimpsed that day, two years and six months ago.
He had endured the agonizing wait. He had waited for her to ripen.
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