It was nothing like what Hyeon expected to see in a house from that neighborhood, the somewhat tasteful furniture that might have been inexpensive but a good bit better than the garbage-picked shit that most of the gutter trash used. The old man with the pickup truck who stole couches and chairs from the dumpsters of the rich and middle class was the most popular person in the neighborhood when he was young, not because he had quality goods but because the places he picked up castoffs usually didn’t have bed bugs. This, though, looked like it was bought new, and the giant TV on the wall definitely didn’t belong in a place where someone would break in to steal ten thousand won. He missed the subtle touches of an elderly woman that lingered, eyes instead focused on his savior’s backside as he shrugged off shoes and gym bag followed by phone and keys.
Heyon made a point of wiping his shoes firmly before he took them off, just to spite the giant, but he dutifully took them off and stepped onto the wood floor in his socks. Seul-gi was all he could think about, and this close again he smelled the man more deeply; every fiber of his being wanted this man to dominate and own the smaller idol in whatever way he wanted. But he knew the cool attitude was for real, apparently he was well known and that meant the bodybuilder knew he was a whore before he made it big. Most men couldn’t get past that bit of information, hell Chul had tried to quit his contract with the stable when he found out about it but it would have meant the end of his career. Sometimes you just had to do unpleasant things for your art, after all.
“So you said you know me, but you still haven’t told me who you are. I mean, well,” he started and stopped, too flustered to speak while he could smell the man so well. It was a deep, manly odor that Hyeon struggled to describe even in his own mind. Soap, sure, but sweat as well; but not the disgusting sweat of the obese clients who labored over him for their three minutes of heaven before they collapsed in a heap. It smelled like hard work and…and heaven. That was all he could think, heaven. “I mean when you moved here, where you’re from. I only left a couple years ago, if you knew me you must have lived here at the same time. How come I’ve never met you, because I know damn well I’d remember meeting a fucking giant.” There, he reestablished his dominance, his confidence, he was the idol and this was the gutter trash he left behind.
Again, a grunt was his reply and a shrug of massive shoulders before Seul-gi moved deeper into his home. “I went away for a while, military service and then school in Japan. You were already on TV when I came back,” followed in that low rumble that still made the idol’s cock twitch in anticipation. Even the man’s voice was like sex, fuck he needed to get laid.
Nothing followed, though, the giant made his way into the kitchen and seemed to leave Hyeon to either follow or stand awkwardly in the entrance. So much for a call and then out, maybe his charms were working. “Well, who were your parents? They still live here, too? Why the fuck would you have come back to this shit hole when you got out for school? Nobody wants to live here, not even those assholes you beat up,” he replied, moving to follow the other into the kitchen.
That sparked a bigger response, those shoulders tensed and Hyeon already regretted the question. Parents? Neighborhood? Fuck, he fucked up. But the other recovered and went to pull out a tub of protein powder and a carton of milk for a shake. “My parents died when I was a baby, my grandmother is from here. Lived here since the war, the neighborhood used to be nice back then. She refused to leave, so I lived here. I came home because she was sick,” Seul-gi replied, though the words seemed forced and hard. It wasn’t a good topic, or at least the fire in his eyes leveled at Hyeon said that, so he backed off.
“How, uh…how’d you get so big? I mean, I try to gain weight but it ain’t easy,” the idol huffed a bit petulantly from the perch against the counter he’d picked to watch the other move. It took all of his self control not to jump onto the other and try to rip off his clothing, he wanted to lick every inch of that man’s body but he still needed a phone to call for a car.
“Diet, diet is everything. Exercise is only a third, food is two thirds. The shit they feed you in your idol harem probably sucks, and no matter how much you lift you won’t grow. Needs to be handled just right, otherwise you end up losing muscle when trying to gain,” came the reply, a little more relaxed. Backing off the topic had worked, as had taking an interest in something the big guy seemed to love.
There was something familiar in that face, something in the words; sure he was bigger and that voice was far deeper than any he’d heard in his life, but it tickled the back of his mind. Somewhere he’d seen this man, spent time with him, but there was some piece Hyeon was missing to make the connection.
“So, big fucker, you’re saying my stable isn’t feeding me right? They’ve turned out the biggest names in the past twenty years, their alumni have more music awards than the next two stables combined,” he retorted, arms crossed hard across his chest. “Harem my ass, I ain’t no whore…not anymore,” he muttered to himself as well, though it was loud enough the other had to hear.
That brought a genuine laugh, enough the bodybuilder stopped what he was doing to turn and look at the other man with a small smile on his lips. “We’re all whores, in some way. Even if you don’t have sex with your customers you still sell sex, rubbing on that guy’s ass like you want to fuck him to sell your music?” he asked with a bit of mirth in his words. Seul-gi measured out a little more of the powder and milk before he tossed in some fruit and vegetables from his fridge and set it all off in the blender. The noise put a pause in the conversation where they stared at one another and the feeling of memory stirred in Heyon once more.
Grandmother, sick, school abroad. It clicked and Hyeon’s eyes widened. “Halmeoni,” he murmured to himself as he covered his mouth in shock. All he got was that same half smirk and those two massive arms crossed over the other’s chest in response. Seul-gi didn’t hear him over the sound of the blender but he understood nonetheless, his grandmother had been the one piece of normalcy in the lives of the neighborhood boys and girls. A friendly face to offer a smile and a cookie, or a meal when your parents were too strung out to feed you. The only decent human being in the ghetto they lived in, so beloved even the most hardened criminal would defend her to the death. Hell, most had sat at her table at some point when their own parents left them to the path of crime and violence. Not everyone could be saved, though, as Hyeon knew himself.
The blender stopped and Seul-gi moved to pour them each a glass from the pitcher, his own quite a bit larger than the idol’s, but he offered the other man a taste anyway, just as his grandmother had so many times. “You finally caught up, did you? Drink this, you need more protein in your life and probably more fiber. When you’re done you can call your cab and go back to your life.” The door was opened and closed in one brief statement, Hyeon invited in to Halmeoni’s warmth and then dismissed back to his vapid life again.