About good hands

This body is beautiful. Cho Sam — beautiful; in the smooth features of his face, in the blueness of his eyes, in his soft voice; and in the small rare pleasure that only he can see when Cho Sam, sleepy in the early morning, lets him put himself on his cock. It makes him greedy. He shouldn’t be doing any of this, and he probably shouldn’t have let it start, but something deep inside him couldn’t refuse Cho Sam, couldn’t reject him. Maybe it was the result of taking everything he could take from Cho Sam that he could take from a beggar, and he’s trying to give something little in return. Or maybe he himself is a worse man than he knew of himself, if he has a young man nearly seven decades younger than him in his hands. The thought of taking Cho Sam in his first, in his real body, is repulsive. He’d rather castrate himself than hurt him. And he would hurt because Cho Sam is fragile, because Cho Sam is soft, without all the muscles that he earned this body with great labor and perseverance, because Cho Sam has given him his health and gives his life every day, getting weaker equals getting stronger. So he gently lifts Cho Sam by the hips and lowers him, rhythmically, sequentially, listening to Cho Sam’s increasingly intermittent breathing and the barely audible rubbing of skin against skin, unable to take his eyes off the point where they connect; mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into Cho Sam, the warmth of another man’s sleep-relaxed muscles wrapping around him, and then his cock reappearing; and he could watch and feel it for hours. Because being inside Cho Sam was the truest thing he’d ever experienced. It’s as if his very being is striving to become one with him; maybe it’s the fact that Cheong Myeong took someone else’s body, and now something inside is being pulled back to Cho Sam. He can’t say he’s being manipulated, because he wouldn’t be such a deceitful person and justify himself by any means necessary; there was no peace waiting for him when he died, and now there won’t be any peace waiting for him either, given the pleasure he takes in awe: please, Saint Sword, and this is the only time he can hear his past name, as if it’s the order of the day. And he’s forgotten about anything but Cho Sam in his hands, even if of the two of them he’s the one who mustn’t let his guard down. It’s early morning, ungodly early if you ask him in his first life, before the sun is up, before he starts his workout, leaving for it right after Cho Sam. It’s a teenage body, because Cho Sam is, oddly enough, a teenager; and like any young boy at that age, he has 'morning situations' that Cheong Myeong takes over, lovingly waking Cho Sam up, encouraging him to wake up because Cho Sam has said it’s his favorite way to wake up in the morning (Cheong Myeong only does it when Cho Sam needs it; if a problem arose on his part and Cho Sam is sleeping peacefully and sweetly, he circulates his chi to get rid of it; he won’t use Cho Sam for himself). It was also something they’ve been doing for over half a year now without anyone even suspecting it, but Cheong Myeong should have known his luck wouldn’t last forever when he sees a frozen Jo Geol in the doorway with his mouth open like he was about to say something but forgot. Cheong Myeong freezes for a moment, seeming to forget to breathe for a second, and they just stare at each other; Cho Sam whimpers sleepily from his shoulder, where he’s put his head, and Cheong Myeong sees Jo Geol’s eyes reflexively circle them, or rather, Cho Sam’s open back, the gathered underclothes that have been left hanging from the bends of Cho Sam’s elbows, at least hiding the bottom part, because Cheong Myeong can’t be responsible for himself if someone saw Cho Sam in that state. Cheong Myeong also doesn’t think the older doesn’t realize what he’s looking at, considering how close he and Cho Sam are to each other, touching bare torsos, breathing heavily and moving as eloquently as they were just a few moments ago; the older does, he just doesn’t realize it yet; and Cho Sam tries to turn around, to see what’s forced him to stop and, again, Cheong Myeong can’t let him. He kisses, pounces, Cho Sam’s lips rougher than he’d planned, but exactly as insistently as he wished, holding his face with his freed hand closer to his own, away from the doorway where Jo Geol still stood like an overgrown tree. It’s a horrible situation that should scare him at least a little, but instead Cheong Myeong feels unbridled rage, which he transmits to his eldest through his gaze: Out. And the older does indeed leave, closing the doors quietly behind him; and he should definitely go and smack the boy upside the head so that he forgets even his own name; but Cho Sam bounces on his cock himself, smiling that little prankster smile when that movement steals a groan from him, and Cheong Myeong decides that he can deal with it a little later; even if the older decides to tell everyone this early on, he’ll just slap everyone back into the dream world and pretend it was all one big hallucinatory dream.

***

Jo Geol is sure that the madness has gotten to him. This is to be expected since two brothers with the same face and completely different personalities have crossed the threshold of the sect. And while Cho Sam is the epitome of virtue they don’t deserve, Cheong Myeong is the ultimate demon who came for their souls, even if he denies it. It’s also no secret that despite their opposite personalities, the twins care for each other. Cho Sam will be the only one Cheong Myeong will share food with, and Cheong Myeong will be the only one for whom Cho Sam can be slightly sarcastic. They share many, many things (sometimes Jo Geol thinks they have the same voice, if it weren’t for the intonation), including a room when the sect couldn’t afford more buildings. And even though they later had money, these two stayed together. Cheong Myeong could be the overprotective older brother, if they dare to take a closer look at that relationship. Yun Jong-sahyoung said that this kind of thing could often be found in those who survived on the streets together (looking back, Jo Geol is more surprised that Cheong Myeong didn’t pull the entire Beggar structure under him as an infant). That’s probably why Jo Geol is still unable to realize what he’s seen. The demon had made him work on what he had missed because of the stab wound in his side, and Jo Geol had worked so long that it was almost daylight. Still, he felt it was important to report to their monster and carve out at least three hours of sleep for himself. It is a quiet night, or rather morning, when he is walking leisurely through the nondescript proverbs and thinking about the next dream, when part of his consciousness hears some strange sound, quiet enough to make him think of someone clapping his hands or slapping his skin. Jo Geol opens someone else’s door without a backward thought, quietly enough not to wake them if someone is asleep, and wide enough for him to pass through. And… Jo Geol isn’t sure what he sees. Jo Geol is not the last prude in the sect, he knows what people can do behind closed doors, even though he has never practiced it himself (not for lack of desire), but there are also inviolable tenets that he, and everyone around him, do not violate. Cho Sam is sitting on Cheong Myeong’s lap, even if he doesn’t see it specifically (thank you, gods), but there’s no doubt about the up-and-down motion he’s managed to see and Cho Sam’s exposed shoulders are undeniably red in the shape of his teeth, visible even in such low light from the rising sun, and his brain is unable to process what he’s seen before Cheong Myeong notices it. Jo Geol doesn’t see fear in those eyes, rather the uniform disappointment that his youngest always has when someone prevents him from enjoying his food or drink (or his little brother, his traitorous mind adds). In the next second, Jo Geol realizes: I’m going to die. Because Cheong Myeong won’t let him leave alive with the risk of everyone finding out. And Jo Geol understands him, he wouldn’t trust himself with a secret of that size. No one would trust him with any secret, to be honest. As if all of this weren’t enough, Jo Geol sees what is probably the most frightening, strange and scalding hot scene of his life as Cheong Myeong practically devours Cho Sam’s mouth, as if trying to eat him with the same hunger they all see when eating; Jo Geol’s qi-enhanced hearing might pick up something similar to a cupping sound if it wasn’t accompanied by such a disturbing sight when Cheong Myeong sent him a clear command: get the hell out of here. Which Jo Geol does, closing the doors; just as quietly and slowly as it was. Jo Geol walks out of the dorm building and sits down on the steps to watch the lightening sky and feel the warmth of dawn on his skin one last time. It’s been a good life, he’s met some amazing people and done some amazing things. Even saw something so traumatizingly scandalous (he’s even glad his life will end today; because if it doesn’t, his wet dreams will haunt that image for years). When a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder, Jo Geol is ready to die. “Older”, Cheong Myeong begins, appearing in front of him with a radiant smile, his hair disheveled, his clothes tied in a hurry, and the smell of sweat (the smell of sex) still lingering on him, “for a few words”. Jo Geol doesn’t die as he’d hoped, but he’d better.