TCBW C75

Chapter 75(NSFW)

The emotion that had ripened for the sake of one person alone was sweeter than any fruit.

And there was enough of it to seep even into the cracks of Dowoon’s long-broken heart.

Perhaps Suhoe wasn’t the only one who had lived his entire life waiting for someone—perhaps Dowoon, too, had been the same.

The love that had melted the heart of a man once thought cold-blooded was the same tender affection Suhoe had carried for so long, all for him.

In that moment, Dowoon’s body stiffened; his member swelled suddenly inside Suhoe.

“Ah!”

“Ugh—”

“It… it hurts!”

Overwhelmed by a rush of emotion, Dowoon lost control—the sudden expansion deep within Suhoe’s body stretched him painfully tight as Dowoon released a torrent inside.

Though it was his first time experiencing it, Suhoe understood vaguely what had happened.

“N–N-noting?”

There had been no sign, no build-up; the pace hadn’t even quickened. It struck him without warning, and a tearing pain lanced through his body.

“Damn it. Don’t move.”

It was the kind of mistake even a twenty-year-old taking his first lover might not make. Dowoon himself was stunned by his own lack of control.

“Haa… haa…”

While Dowoon struggled to think—desperately trying to regain his composure—Suhoe’s face turned white, the searing pain between them unbearable.

Even his hands, which clung weakly around Dowoon’s back, and his trembling legs, barely suspended in the air, shook violently.

Isn’t knotting supposed to just… swell? Why does it feel like stabbing pain, like my insides are being pierced?

The pain was far worse than he had imagined, and terror began to creep into Suhoe’s mind—terror Dowoon couldn’t even begin to guess.

Still, as Dowoon had told him, Suhoe kept silent and only looked up at him—because Dowoon himself was gasping for breath, too disoriented to even notice him properly.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet Suhoe’s eyes. He bit down hard on his lower lip until blood beaded between his teeth, his face contorted with strain.

The red trickle along his lip didn’t matter; all he could do was cling to the illusion of control.

Dowoon’s inner state was chaos—utter, stormy chaos.

To Suhoe, that helpless, stiff expression looked like cruelty—as if Dowoon had turned feral right after hearing his confession.

It made the knotting feel less like a response to affection, and more like a primal reaction—a byproduct of rut.

Even as the pain tore through him, Suhoe’s anguish came not from his body but from his heart.

Because more than the ache, it was the rejection of his feelings that hurt worse.

He didn’t even know if what dripped out of him was blood or seed anymore. All he could do was watch Dowoon’s face.

His skin was flushed, drenched in sweat, his composure gone. He looked more human, more vulnerable, than ever.

Even through the ragged breathing, Suhoe tried to focus on Dowoon’s state—his concern outweighing the pain.

“…Damn it.”

Even the low curse that brushed his ear couldn’t make him stop.

His tears fell freely now, but he still forced his body to emit pheromones, desperate to ease Dowoon’s agony.

Dowoon, pressed close against him, couldn’t bear to see the tears that streamed down his young wife’s face.

It wasn’t just that he’d knotted because of a child’s confession—that was shameful enough. The greater problem was that his vision was fading again, darkness eating at the edges.

He couldn’t even remember what he was mumbling anymore. His usual composure, his cool-headed ease—it was all gone.

So he didn’t see the trembling, broken figure beneath him; didn’t see Suhoe’s tears; didn’t understand that he was the cause of both the shaking and the sorrow.

All he could do was try not to collapse.

Gasping for breath, forcing his body to move, Dowoon staggered forward.

He couldn’t remember if he’d turned off the water or left it running, where he was, or even what he’d done. The only thing that remained was instinct—an overwhelming drive to get his wife somewhere safe.

“Mm…”

Every time Dowoon took a step, the motion stirred something deep inside Suhoe—each movement pressed against the knot, stretching him to his limit.

He thought, Am I going to split in half?

But seeing Dowoon’s unsteady steps, the raw exhaustion on his face, Suhoe only bit down on his own arm to muffle his cries.

By the time Dowoon finally managed to lower him onto the smooth sheets of the bed, Suhoe’s thin back, once pressed to the cold tiles, trembled violently.

His hot body quivered, and though he whimpered faintly, he still wrapped his arms around Dowoon, holding him as if afraid he would vanish.

And at that touch, something in the air shifted.

Dowoon’s Alpha pheromones broke apart, scattered—and the labored, pained breathing softened into silence.

He had lost consciousness.

“Haa…”

Only then did Suhoe release the breath he had been holding.

The tension in his body ebbed slowly, leaving only faint, shaking exhalations. Tears continued to spill down the hollows of his eyes.

Dowoon’s knot still filled him; his body was not free. The numbing loss of sensation between his legs was terrifying, but exhaustion triumphed.

He closed his eyes.

He was utterly spent—body and soul battered to the edge.

And yet he couldn’t let Dowoon go.

He knew something inside him was broken, but all he could think about was the burning fever on Dowoon’s skin.

Even as his mind blurred from the dense pheromones that saturated the air—heavy enough to drown in—even as his body felt torn apart, Suhoe kept running his trembling hands over Dowoon’s back, clinging harder, afraid that if he loosened his grip, the man would disappear.

He had prayed, over and over, countless times.

By the time Suhoe finally awoke, he couldn’t even remember when he had fallen asleep.

It hadn’t been deep sleep—just a shallow, hazy doze.

The fatigue that devoured his body almost kept him from opening his eyes, but the faint sound of something distant pulled him back to consciousness.

When his heavy lids finally lifted, it was the middle of the night.

Darkness pressed in so thickly he couldn’t tell whether his eyes were truly open or closed.

And then he realized—he had fallen asleep lying atop Dowoon’s body.

He lifted one trembling, bony hand and pressed it to Dowoon’s forehead. It wasn’t hot. His body temperature had returned to normal.

The rut had passed.

Carefully, Suhoe pried open the firm hand that was still wrapped around his waist. Dowoon didn’t stir—his sleep was deep and heavy.

“Mm…”

When Suhoe tried to shift, bending his knees to rise, a sharp, foreign ache made him gasp.

They were still connected.

So this is what it really feels like—to be pierced through.

Now aware of it, he felt a dull, tightening pressure low in his abdomen.

He looked down briefly at where their bodies were joined, then turned his gaze back to Dowoon.

His chest rose and fell steadily with each slow breath.

He was fast asleep, adrift somewhere in deep unconsciousness.

Suhoe decided to check the sound he’d heard earlier—but first, he needed to free himself.

He bent his knees, lifting his hips carefully. The hot, solid flesh that filled him shifted, stretching his sore, torn insides as it began to slide out.

Even that small movement was agony—the friction along his injured walls drew out small, strangled whimpers.

Plop.

A wet sound echoed in the stillness as the heavy, softened length slipped free, falling against Dowoon’s body.

The moment the plug-like knot left him, a gush of fluid spilled out—thick, hot, and endless.

Dowoon’s release, trapped deep inside, now ran down from within, spilling along Suhoe’s thighs before dripping back onto Dowoon’s skin and the bed sheets below.

The sensation made Suhoe flinch, his body trembling, but he forced himself upright.

Even the act of sitting up was excruciating.

Separating from Dowoon’s chest, bending his knees, adjusting his position—it all felt impossible.

It was as if someone had beaten him with burning iron while he slept.

Standing made everything worse. When his bare feet touched the floor, he felt every ache clearly—his whole body throbbed, joints aching, muscles trembling with cramps.

“Ahh… ah…”

His voice came out hoarse, his throat raw from the night’s strain. He must have caught a chill after sleeping while still wet.

Still, he hurriedly wiped his body with a dry towel and slipped on some light clothes.

The faint chime of the doorbell was still echoing through the house—it must have been what woke him.

Between the ringing in his ears and what sounded like a distant scream, Suhoe couldn’t tell what was real anymore. But he knew he had to check.

Leaving Dowoon in bed, Suhoe carefully made his way downstairs.