Song laughed and paused from his meal.
"I do respect Reverend Pierre, but this and that are two different things. His political influence and achievements are admirable, and he is very devout. But I want to do things my own way."
Kuji stopped talking and focused on bringing food to his mouth. He ate for a while, then looked up again from his bowl.
"You mean both for sex and for charity activities?"
"I guess you can say that. After all, both are based on personal feelings."
Kuji looked steadily into Song's eyes. "I remember you saying that before. So it's not your thing to appeal to the government?"
"No, actually. I don't trust the government or the nation. That's why I can't commit myself completely to those activities like Reverend Pierre does. That's why I'm not qualified to be a part of Emmaus."
"What...?"
He had never heard such negative words come out of Song's mouth before. Song's faraway eyes looked like those of someone he knew. Yes, the person he always saw in the mirror-
"Does that..." He couldn't find the words to follow. Kuji put his spoon in his bowl and looked down. "Does that have to do with your country?"
"It might, it might not. How about you, Masatake? Do you trust your country and government?"
Kuji kept his eyes down as he shook his head. "Who would? Not with the state this country's in."
"I see. Well, I think so, too. That's why I've decided to believe in the kingdom of God. In the kingdom of God, everyone is equal. Everyone will lend a hand to the weak. So that's why I thought of doing the same in this world."
Usually, Kuji would scoff inwardly and call him fake, but instead, he murmured, "I see."
Kuji knew little about the country from which the man came. He also did not know why it was divided into the north and south. He knew none of these things, even though the country was so close.
"Where were you born?" Kuji asked as he raised his head.
"Cheon-wang."
"Huh?"
"It's a small village that no one probably knows about. I don't think you'd be able to find it on Google Earth or even on the map." Song smiled. Kuji felt a sense of ease at the familiar expression on his face.
"I guess I don't know anything about you, huh?"
"That's because you don't ask, Masatake. I'd be glad to tell you anything if I asked."
"Have you slept with anyone before?"
"That question's not allowed." Song reached out and pressed his index finger against Kuji's lips. Before Kuji could swallow the saliva in his mouth, Song drew his hand away.
"Masatake, any seconds? You should eat more."
Kuji thought about Song while Nango penetrated him. He remembered the man's fingers pressed against his lips. Once, back when he had been learning piano from Song in juvenile, they had played a duet together. Kuji had played the left hand part and Song, the right hand.
The man had thick, rugged, and strong fingers. They were noticeably long, especially after the first knuckle. His nails were trimmed short, free of dirt, and were pink. Occasionally Kuji's right hand would cross with his, come away, then draw near again.
Kuji had gotten an erection while he played.
Those fingers. He imagined curling his tongue around those fingers that had pressed against his lips. He would open wide, entwine his tongue around them, and graze them with his teeth.
Meanwhile, he would put his own fingers into Song's mouth. Two of them. He wanted Song to lick his fingers, too.
"Masatake, your fingers are so slender and beautiful." That was how Song had complimented him when they played the duet.
"So are yours," Kuji had muttered, his face beet-red.
Yes. If Song wouldn't give him his penis, his fingers would do. He wanted Song to knead his hole with those long fingers. To carve out his insides vigorously. He didn't mind if it bled. With those fingers, Song would probably be able to reach in very far. He wanted the man to delve his fingers deep into his intestines, to drag out his organs, and kill him. To fuck him to death.
A hot, throbbing wave burst out of him. The tip of his penis trembled as the white liquid came out in a continuous spurt. Kuji was almost exasperated at how deprived of pleasure he had apparently been. He was overcome with dizziness as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him.
"Nnh——ah—ah—!" he moaned in loud, short bursts.
"Wow, you're honest today, huh? You always avoid making noise," he heard Nango's voice over his shoulder, tinged with amused contempt. "Thanks for moaning so sweetly like that. My cock is that good, huh?"
As if, Kuji thought internally as he gritted his teeth.
He felt the man's weight bear down upon his back. The man's hands, which had been on his buttocks, came around to the front.
"You're hard again already. Really in the mood today, aren't you?"
Nango suddenly burst into raucous laughter.
"I know. You must be thinking about Song."
"No," Kuji ground out, but Nango continued to laugh loudly.
"You clenched the moment you heard his name. Your body doesn't lie. You're fantasizing about his cock being inside you, aren't you?"
Kuji shook his head in protest.
"Whatever," the man said as he began to thrust vigorously in and out of him. Kuji's buttocks were spread open wide as he was rammed by the man's boulder-like member. His hip joints ached as his legs were spread as widely as they would allow. His knees buckled, and he ended up splayed on his stomach like a frog.
"So? Does Song fuck you? Huh?"
As much as Kuji wanted to say no, the pressure on his chest made it hard for him to speak. He was yanked over and flipped onto his back. Nango clenched his ankles.
"Answer me, fag."
The man raised Kuji's legs high, then folded them over so that he was almost folded double on his back.
Nango's face drew closer. Kuji screwed his eyes shut.