TFN C40

Chapter 40

 

“Are you ready?”

Wonhyo tensed, wings flapping, before giving a firm nod.

Since returning to human form meant he’d be naked, they had chosen to perform the curing attempt on the bed. Even having spent just one night here, sitting across from Cheongmun in this unfamiliar bedroom made his throat itch with nerves. His stomach also felt strangely hollow.

Cheongmun had suggested eating beforehand since the curing item, though an artifact, was ultimately a kind of drug. But Wonhyo refused—it was better to anticipate the chance of failure and act as though it was certain.

Cheongmun broke a sliver of the item, no larger than millet, and presented it on his fingertip.

Could such a crumb really turn him human, even for only twenty seconds? Wonhyo doubted it.

“Swallow first, then close your eyes.”

“Chirp?”

“If I approach to start artificial respiration, you may reactively resist. And while it should last about twenty seconds, imprecise dosing might shorten it further. Too much could provoke side effects.”

The explanation made Wonhyo preemptively squeeze his eyes shut. Better this than confessing that in his dreams his tongue had already entangled with Cheongmun’s countless times, enough that he might not flinch away now.

After a pause, he felt fingers brushing his beak. The touch tickled, making him jerk his head back before regaining himself and opening wide.

Like a hungry nestling, he gaped—crumbs rolled inside. Small enough to swallow easily, he gulped it down without hesitating.

No change at first. He simply shivered in tension, then warmth surged as the room grew hotter around him.

Just as he thought to crack his eyes open, a stranger’s breath skimmed down his nose.

“Open your mouth.”

The whisper was soft, brushing his ear, yet it made his lower belly clench.

Before he could decide, lips pressed against his own. Cheongmun, biting lightly at his lip, slid inside, tongue exploring his teeth.

The first time he had been rigid with fear, helpless. Now, with experience gained even if only in dreams, Wonhyo naturally deepened the kiss, guiding him further.

No longer frozen—he tentatively moved his tongue, entwining with his.

It wasn’t rough or suffocating like the dreams, but it was real—and his throat quivered, desperate to devour more with greedy swallows.

Breathing through his nose was hard, and when Cheongmun’s tongue withdrew, even briefly, he sucked in air with a gasp.

Then his waist gave out, body collapsing backward. Not pushed—he simply lacked strength to hold. Cheongmun followed, pressing him down, a weight both heavy and comforting.

Wonhyo reached shakily, pulling him closer. Heat—he needed it. And as their mouths pressed harder and deeper still, for a moment he wondered if this really was another dream.

But such vivid sensation, striking his whole body, could never be false. His heart thundered—thump, thump, thump. Heat flooded relentlessly downward.

The vividness blurred, sounds dulling. The wet pulls at his tongue, the scrape at his nipples, the feel of his shoulder gripped tight—distant, all foreign.

His cock throbbed in painful swell, pressing wet against Cheongmun’s abdomen, twitching and smearing precum in tremors.

As though replaying his obscene dreams, Wonhyo arched, thrusting himself against him. Just a bit further, he thought—any more, and he would relapse into chained frustration, unable to release.

Light flared behind sealed lids. His tongue clung, dragging Cheongmun deeper as he jolted in climax.

White heat burst upward—and then out. He spilled, shuddering, chest heaving as his hips bucked.

Cheongmun’s lips raked his palate once more before slowly drawing off, leaving him panting, dazed eyes chasing him.

『A large amount of ghost-qi has been purified. (…67.5% progress)』

The system’s alert hit like ice water.

Wonhyo jolted into clarity.

Cheongmun was still above him, eyes dry, expression unreadable.

“…Fuck.”

His face flamed hotter than in lust. Scrambling away, he rolled off, shivering not from desire but cold as semen cooled sticky against his skin. Even if he froze to death now, he preferred it to this humiliation.

Panicking, he clawed the bed sheet up over his head. It reeked of sex and shame.

Every rustle made the musk sting his nose, screaming his deed: You came, it said. Worse, he’d climaxed rubbing against Cheongmun’s body.

He heard the creak of the bed—Cheongmun standing, plain navy sleepwear now marred at the groin. Wonhyo stifled a scream.

But Cheongmun only stepped lightly off the mattress, smooth as feather.

“I need to prepare for work. I’ll shower first.”

Footsteps retreated. Frozen, Wonhyo clutched the sheets around his ears.

“AAAAAAAHHH—!”

He screamed anyway, heedless of apartment neighbors.

〈I hereby submit this as explanation in respect to the above audit and points of concern.〉

“Only your signature required.”

Wonhyo scrawled his name where the petitioner’s line indicated.

He had no idea what was even under question, had prepared nothing—yet the enormous digital document scrolled endlessly down. Signing with the pen-swipe ended it.

“Thank you for your help,” Cheongmun said, reclaiming the pen.

“…I only signed my name.”

Wonhyo sighed. Frustrating though bureaucracy was, this was nothing compared to explaining his shame.

Having showered, now clothed, he nevertheless had found only his ceremonial garb in inventory—unwilling to wear that, he’d borrowed shirt and pants from Cheongmun. The borrowed clothes hung loose, sleeves folded thrice, baggy on him, while their owner was as immaculate as always.

Adjusting a sleeve yet again, Wonhyo pulled from his own inventory a bundle of talismans.

“Um…”

“Yes.”

With the smallest invitation he fumbled through, withdrawing whichever he felt most apt to give.

“These are for misfortune and calamity prevention.”

After everything that had happened in only two days, it seemed prudent. Even if life wasn’t threatened, bad luck had clustered ominously, just like his forced need earlier to explain himself in bureaucratic papers.

He offered a pair.

“And these—are for nullifying false charges, easing wrongful blame or accusations.”

The yellow slips lined the desk.

Cheongmun studied them.

“Why give these to me?”

“…Because misfortune always comes in streaks. One trouble calls for another, and then they trail on.”

Wonhyo burned the remainder with a spark.

They smoked white instantly, disintegrating into nothing—linked, smoldering charms designed to flare against cursed energies.

“These will respond to the foul aura in that cursed talisman we saw. If you carry this, it will react to similar energies or vengeful spirits. If you value your life, keep it on you.”

Cheongmun nodded, sliding one into his jacket pocket.

“You’ve worked twice as hard, yesterday and today. Thank you.”

“…It was my task too. Besides, thanks to this, the curse was—was resolved sooner.”

Despite the scars inside, results mattered.

Wonhyo ducked his head, unable to meet eyes.

“I’ll be going.”

“Yes. Take care on your way home.”

Cheongmun had offered to drive him back, but Wonhyo had panicked and refused. So they parted naturally, polite.

Outside, hailing an autonomous cab was trivial; input and within one minute it arrived. He collapsed into the back, exhaling in ragged bursts like all restraint had finally broken.

“Hahaha…hahahaha.”

Laughter spilled over. He lay sprawled all the way to Muak-dong, Yonsan left behind, until finally at the shrine front he broke it off.

There waited his sister.

“Wonhyo!”

Emerging, he bit down hard on his lip, throat shaking, voice finally escaping.

“…Noona.”

And there, clinging onto the one who would comfort him, he confessed:

“…I’m so embarrassed I could die.”