Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 93: The First Time That Must Not Be Remembered

Wrapped in warm blankets, sunlight streaming in softly, surrounded by a gentle fragrance, Son Suhyeon opened his eyes. His fluttering eyelashes revealed pale gray-blue irises. As his blurred vision adjusted to focus, he saw a figure lying right beside him under the same blanket.

"Ha Giyeon...?"

It was Ha Giyeon, lying next to him. A face so familiar he could recognize it instantly, and yet, there was something subtly different. Suhyeon stared at him for a long moment. The once small, soft cheeks had thinned out, his jawline slightly sharpened, giving him a more mature appearance.

Dark circles had spread beneath his eyes, and his eyelids, gently shut in sleep, didn’t move. The rise and fall of his chest was the only sign that he was alive.

Is this what Giyeon would look like as an adult?

Suhyeon gazed at his sleeping face. He had seen Giyeon asleep before—back when he’d stayed over and stared at his face the whole time. But back then, Giyeon had been unwell, wincing in discomfort and tossing in his sleep.

Now, he was sleeping so peacefully it made Suhyeon hesitate to wake him. But a sudden urge bubbled up inside him—to see those hazel eyes.

He wasn’t sure where the nerve came from, but he reached out and gently brushed the bangs away from Giyeon’s eyes. Silky strands shifted, revealing his full face.

Unable to resist, Suhyeon traced a finger along Giyeon’s eye area, studying each feature closely.

So completely different from Ha Dohoon—both in looks and expression. Some had pitied Giyeon, saying he didn’t resemble his brother. What nonsense. It was a blessing that they didn’t look alike.

Their total lack of resemblance was something Suhyeon deeply appreciated. It made it easier to believe Giyeon wasn’t really Dohoon’s brother.

As he absentmindedly stroked Giyeon’s hair—

“....”

His eyelashes trembled slightly, then lifted. The hazy eyes blinked a few times to adjust, then locked onto Suhyeon’s. Suhyeon smiled softly and stroked his cheek. Giyeon rubbed against that hand like a cat, and Suhyeon, worried he might hurt him, made sure not to apply any pressure at all.

And then—

“...!”

Giyeon, propping himself up slightly, leaned in and pressed their lips together. The warm, soft sensation tickled where their breath met. For a few seconds, time seemed to freeze. Suhyeon stared at him, unable to close his eyes. When their lips finally parted, his gaze naturally met Giyeon’s—close enough to touch noses.

Those hazel eyes were smiling lazily.

As if that smile were permission, Suhyeon reached out, cupped the back of Giyeon’s head, and kissed him—hungrily. His tongue slid between Giyeon’s lips, swirling wetly. He pressed insistently at the root of Giyeon’s tongue, scraped his uneven palate, and Giyeon let out a breathless moan. It was just like when he had touched the inside of Giyeon’s mouth before—it was hot and soaked. His soft tongue squirmed awkwardly beneath his own, saliva trickling down his chin.

"Huuuh... nngh..."

When they finally parted, Suhyeon could barely breathe. Whether it was because it had been his first kiss, or something else, his mind sparked with light, and a heavy sensation settled in his lower stomach. Gazing at Giyeon, lips parted and dazed eyes unfocused, Suhyeon felt a rush of incomprehensible dominance. He kissed down his cheek, along his neck, lips brushing hot skin. He could almost taste Giyeon’s scent—wanted to sink his teeth in.

And then, he snapped back.

What... what the hell am I doing?

Suhyeon scrambled back, off of Giyeon, and sat down hard. Between his legs, something stiff and undeniable strained against his pants. He yanked at his collar, pressing down over it with a palm, bowing his head.

Then Giyeon suddenly reached between his legs.

“W-Wait—!”

The moment their hands met, a strange, weak sensation rippled through him. Giyeon undid his belt.

“Ha... Giyeon...!”

Suhyeon called out, but Giyeon had already pulled down his drawers. His cock sprang out—so hard, so swollen, it looked dangerous. Giyeon carefully held it in both hands and slowly took the tip into his mouth.

“Ugh...!”

The hot, wet heat wrapped around him and Suhyeon clapped a hand over his face, gritting his teeth. He had never experienced, never even imagined, anything like this. The sensation was overwhelming.

Giyeon tried to take more, but he could only manage about halfway. His cheeks bulged around it, so big it wouldn’t go further. Wet, sloppy noises filled the room, pre-cum and spit dripping and mixing together. Suhyeon tried to push him away, but he had no strength. The orgasm rushed up too fast—he called out, tried to stop it—but it was too late.

“Ugh...!”

Giyeon pulled off just before Suhyeon came, but he still couldn’t stop the hot, white fluid from splattering across Giyeon’s face. It dripped from his lashes, clung to his nose. His mouth was slightly open, inviting.

And then Suhyeon froze.

This... this isn’t right. Giyeon would never...

At the same time, his vision flipped and he jolted upright.

“Hahh... huff...”

Panting # Nоvеlight # heavily, he turned his head to find the faint light of dawn spilling through the window. His whole body was damp with sweat—and one place especially.

Suhyeon lifted the blanket over his lower half, saw what he’d done—and slammed it down again, eyes squeezed shut.

“Shit...”

Fucking hell. He’d dreamed of a minor. What the fuck... This wasn’t just abnormal—it was deranged. He was garbage.

Back when he’d been a teenager, he’d never even had time to think about sex—he’d been too busy worrying about surviving. Even when he’d stumbled across porn, he hadn’t felt anything. He’d thought there was something wrong with him, but figured it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to fall in love anyway.

And now, at twenty years old, his first wet dream... and it was about Ha Giyeon.

Suhyeon seriously wondered if he should just go ahead and die early. How was he ever supposed to look Giyeon in the face again? Why the hell had it been him?

He wanted to beat himself to death.

***

While Suhyeon was clutching his head in guilt, Ha Giyeon was enduring a suffocating breakfast. It was a rare weekend morning without a part-time shift, and he’d planned to sleep in to recover from exhaustion. It was true that he didn’t want to see his parents or Ha Dohoon—but they were usually out early for meetings or business, and Dohoon often went to visit relatives.

So the house should’ve been his alone.

Knock knock.

But no—Giyeon had no choice but to get up at the knock on his door. Thinking it might be the housekeeper, he rubbed his eyes and sat up—only to freeze when he saw who walked in.

“Mother?”

Lee Mihyun had entered his room. Startled, Giyeon scrambled out of bed. She stared at him for a moment, then said,

“You were sleeping.”

“Ah... I’m sorry.”

Afraid she’d use this as an excuse to scold him, Giyeon apologized reflexively. Mihyun looked slightly flustered, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“I’m not here to scold you, so raise your head.”

“Ah... yes...”

It wasn’t the housekeeper. Or Ha Dohoon. It was his mother. Early in the morning, in his room. Giyeon sat tensely, waiting.

“Come down for breakfast. There’s something I’d like to talk about.”

“Ah... alright.”

“If your stomach’s upset, you don’t have to force yourself to eat...”

Hearing that, Giyeon hesitated, then nodded and said he’d be down after washing up. If she’d come all this way just to talk, it was better to show up—even if it was uncomfortable. There was no point in pretending to be sick.

After Mihyun left, he washed up quickly and went down to the kitchen. He greeted the housekeeper, then sat beside Ha Dohoon.

“...!”

Dohoon’s calm eyes flickered violently. Apparently, he hadn’t expected Giyeon to show up. He almost blurted out something like “What are you doing here at this hour?” but caught himself when he realized how that would sound—like he was treating Giyeon as an outsider.

He fumbled, trying to decide what to say first. About the person Giyeon had stayed out with... the one he’d called hyung... no, before that—he should apologize...

But before Dohoon could open his mouth, Ha Ilwoo and Lee Mihyun entered. Giyeon stood to greet them politely.

“Good morning.”

“Yes, good morning.”

“...?”

Giyeon blinked. Ha Ilwoo had answered him. That wasn’t normal. He usually only responded to Dohoon... Oh—maybe he’d meant it for him. Giyeon sat down, a bit dazed.

The meal was as quiet as always, filled only with the sound of dishes. It made Giyeon just as uncomfortable as ever. But something did stand out this time—there wasn’t a single seafood side dish on the table.

Maybe the housekeeper left them out on purpose.

It never occurred to him that his parents might’ve requested that.

Halfway through the meal, Ilwoo spoke.

“Tonight is your great-uncle’s company anniversary. Keep your evening open.”

Dohoon had been informed a few days ago, so he just nodded. But Ilwoo didn’t look away. He was clearly looking at Giyeon. Who kept eating in silence, not giving him even a glance.

“Giyeon.”

“...Yes?”

Startled, Giyeon looked up when Mihyun called his name.

“Do you have plans this evening?”

“Ah—no, I don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you respond?”

“Uh... am I going too?”