Chapter 21

I did have a sense of guilt, but it was often overshadowed by my resentment.

Whenever I faced Yan Yang, I would always feel very conflicted. I felt conflicted between feeling like I was committing a crime, and the pleasure of feeling like I was getting my revenge.

Of course, I knew that fucking your own Didi wasn't considered a crime, and I also knew that even if I fucked him until he begged on his knees for mercy, I was not getting my revenge.

The one I wanted to take revenge on had never been him, and what I wanted to steal and possess had never been his body.

But I still did it.

At the time, I had been completely unaware of how to do it with a male. There was only one place at his lower body where I could enter, so I just ruthlessly thrust it in there. 

Yan Yang lay on the bed and very obediently spread his legs. I didn't look at his sex organ, the thing that symbolised his desire, which stood erect before me without shame.

I found it shameless how he tempted me, but what I found even more shameless was that I actually got hard in front of this Yan Yang.

I gripped his neck and vented all my anger. When I plunged into him, his face contorted horribly in pain.

I couldn't tell whether his pain was from my entering or his inability to breathe due to how tightly I was gripping his neck. His face was flushed red, but he didn't struggle at all. He simply shut his eyes tight, tears slipping out from the corners.

I didn't have the slightest bit of apprehension, nor a single shred of gentleness.

I simply drove the entire thing in, giving him what he wanted.

Didn't he want for me to fuck him?

That was what I was thinking. I was gritting my teeth in hatred, but I didn't know what I was hating.

Actually, entering him hadn't been that easy. It was just because my rage had reached a point that numbed my sense of pain. The truth was, he was very tight; his whole body was. His nerves were tensed up, and when I entered, neither of us found it pleasant.

At the time, I hadn't known what preparations needed to be done before two males had sex. I was completely unaware that the reason why I could even enter was because Yan Yang had prepared himself in the shower.

He had made every preparation necessary to do this with me, planning to offer himself up to me like a sacrifice.

Even if it meant he would be put in so much pain that he practically lost consciousness.

When I let go of his neck, his whole body was shaking. Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably, and his eyes were empty.

Perhaps he had been shocked to an extreme, never having expected that I would nearly cost him his life.

While he slowly came back to his senses, I remained inside him. His lower area, that had originally been standing erect, had gone flaccid because of my roughness. That small limp thing drooped lifelessly, as though it had been tortured.

Just like its owner.

Yan Yang's current state didn't make me feel an ounce of sympathy for him. Even my shame and guilt had evaporated. When he looked at me so pitifully, all I thought was, This is what you begged me for.

While Yan Yang was dazed, it felt like time had frozen. I didn't move, maintaining my kneeling position on the bed. I stayed inside him, waiting for him, like I was waiting for the awakening of someone who had been declared dead.

I knew this analogy was, perhaps, not the most appropriate, but it was indeed from this moment on that the Yan Yang in my heart became someone else entirely.

He was no longer that innocent Didi, the foolish Didi whom I had once used.

In the years to come, he would continue being my tool, but we would become entangled in far more conflicts.

Those entanglements would be like vines that could never be chopped off, eventually dragging us into a thick swamp together.

So be it.

Things had already got to this point, so we should just plummet together.

When his hand softly grasped at the sheets beneath him, I started slowly moving in and out again.

As long as I made even a slight movement, Yan Yang's face would contort in pain. To avoid making any sound, he bit down hard on his lip. I watched him clamp down on his lip until it bled.

Yan Yang was pretty. He was fair and delicate, but there was a sort of tenacity in his bones. As he lay naked on the bed, his charm was not entirely feminine.

His hair was a bit long as he hadn't cut it for a while. His dark hair, dampened with sweat, clung to his fair forehead, while his neck still displayed the red imprints of my fingers where I had gripped it.

I stared at him. I couldn't tell what I was feeling.

I pulled out to the tip. His chin jerked up as his mouth fell agape, gasping for air.

I plunged back in. He couldn't help it, so in order not to make a sound, he lifted his hand and bit down on the back of it.

From the beginning to the end, his tears never stopped.

Suddenly, I heard a sound from outside.

Yan Yang and I could easily differentiate the sounds of the footsteps of the two other people who lived here.

It was Yan Yang's mother who first walked out, then my father who followed soon after.

Their voices were low, but if you listened carefully, you could still make out what they were saying.

My father was having a headache and had asked Yan Yang's mother to fetch him some medication.

The two of them were just outside while the two of us were inside doing this.

I glanced at Yan Yang. His two parents, who treasured him so much, would never have expected that at this moment, their son was being fucked and bullied so ruthlessly.

Yan Yang seemed to have misunderstood, believing I had stopped because I was scared. He reached out and tried to hold my hand, his palm covered in cold sweat.

He interlocked his fingers with mine, pressing his clammy palm against my own.

I finally lowered my head and looked at where our bodies connected. It was only then that I finally realised – because of how rough I had been, Yan Yang was bleeding.