Rent Settled by Mouth

Daeshik's expression simply stopped.

"…I'm sorry, what?"

"The rent. I pay it with my body. That works, doesn't it?"

The room went quiet. Only the faint sound of traffic drifted in through the open window.

Daeshik stared at me for a long moment. Then he slowly dragged a thick palm down his face.

"Hah…"

His hand came to rest at the bottom of his chin. When he finally spoke, it was with the face of a man at the end of his rope.

"Please. Say something that actually makes sense."

"…"

"Live like a sensible person. Sensibly. Agh!"

It was mortifying. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I was the one who'd made the absurd offer in the first place, but watching him recoil from it like I'd proposed something diseased scraped at my pride in a way I couldn't explain. And on top of that, there was a word that had been lodged somewhere in my skull since this morning.

A-cup.

Flat-chested.

Along with it came the image of Taehyun snickering, that bastard. And so a completely unrelated sentence popped out of my mouth.

"What, don't tell me you're looking down on me for being flat?"

Daeshik's eyes went wide.

"No—why are we suddenly talking about your chest?"

"Answer the question."

"Hah… Yerim, I know you've got a pretty face. Okay."

"So?"

Daeshik spent a moment choosing his words, then gave up on it entirely.

"But right now it's not about your face or your chest. Look at the state of this room, look at the rent you're behind on, and now out of nowhere you want to pay with your body—what am I supposed to do with that?"

It was a fair point. Which made me even angrier.

"Fine. Fuck it. Then I'll prove it."

Daeshik's face went rigid. No—rigid wasn't the word. It stopped. Eyebrows, lips, everything frozen exactly in place as he looked at me.

I held that stare without stepping back. It was stubbornness. Honestly? Half stubbornness, half the cold calculation that I truly had no other option left. And if I'm being even more honest than that—

my lower belly had been sitting heavy ever since the moment this man walked into my room.

"I'll prove it."

My voice came out steadier than I expected.

Daeshik opened his mouth slowly.

"Seo Yerim. Are you in your right mind right now?"

"Yes."

"No, seriously."

"Seriously."

Daeshik pressed a hand against the back of his neck. There was something oddly funny about a man that size wearing such a helpless expression.

"Just this month's rent."

I set the terms first. Daeshik looked at me.

"There's still last month."

"Just knock off this month. You'll get last month's when the shoot money comes in."

"…"

"If you don't want to, forget it."

Daeshik said nothing for a long while. The room held nothing but the faint murmur of traffic outside, and a breath of evening air slipped in through the open window and slipped back out again. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't look away.

Daeshik dropped his gaze first. I heard the file binder settle onto the floor beside the bed.

"…Don't regret it."

That was his yes.

I moved first. One step put me right in front of him, and up close he was even bigger—tall enough that I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes. His chest filled out the t-shirt right in front of my face, and what reached my nose wasn't cigarette smoke but soap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mixed with sweat. The moment that scent touched me, everything below tightened all over again. My nipples had gone hard and stiff inside my bra.

I took hold of the hem of his t-shirt. My fingers closed on the fabric. Daeshik drew in a single breath and didn't move.

I sank slowly to my knees. The floor was cold; the chill cut straight up through my thin jeans. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his shorts, and a short breath came from above me.

"…Go ahead."

I pulled the fabric down. Underwear came into view—black cotton, and the shape of him already pressed against it. My hand stopped for a beat.

Big. Not just big. The outline straining the fabric was far bigger than I'd pictured. My fingers hovered above the cloth, and my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lower belly pulled tight again—because my own underwear was already soaked. I was on my knees in front of this man, and I hadn't done a single thing yet.

Daeshik looked down at me.

"…What?"

"Nothing."

I drew his underwear down slowly. His cock was thick and long—not even fully hard yet, and it already wouldn't fit inside my palm. My fingers wrapped around it. Hot. The skin was thin and taut, and that heat climbed up my palm and spread all the way to my elbow. The inside of my thighs was slick.

I stroked slowly from the base up, then back down. Strength gathered in Daeshik's thighs. His cock began to harden in my hand, swelling bigger with every pass. I looked up. He had one hand braced against the wall, watching me, the small lettering of a tattoo visible along the side of his neck. Our eyes met. I lowered mine and opened my mouth.

The tip of my tongue touched first—one slow lick across the top of the head.

"Hk."

His breath snagged, short and sharp. I parted my lips and took him in, the hot, hard weight of him settling onto my tongue. Pre-cum had already beaded out of him, salty and thick, and the moment that taste spread to the root of my tongue, my lower body clenched hard.

I sealed my lips around him and pushed in slowly. He was too big to take all the way to my throat, so I didn't force it—only as much as would go. Pressing my tongue flat along the underside, I began to move up and down. I could feel the hand braced on the wall tensing.

"…Shit."

A low curse leaked out of him. I picked up the pace a little, lips sliding tight over his cock, spit dripping down to wet my fingers. I wrapped my hand around the base where my mouth couldn't reach and moved it in time.

And then my hand stopped. The ache low in my belly was too much—my clit throbbed inside my panties. I pressed my thighs together for a moment; even that much was a small shock of friction. I tightened my lips harder around him, and Daeshik's thighs gave a faint tremble.

His voice dropped low.

"Slow down."

I ignored him and pressed my tongue in harder instead, working the tip into the groove just beneath the head. His breathing turned rough. The hand on the wall came down to rest on my head, gathering a fistful of pink hair—not gripping hard, more like simply laying itself there. But I felt the weight of it anyway. The sensation of my hair held in his hand ran from my scalp down my spine, and everything below clenched again.

I slid my left hand between my own thighs. Through the fabric, my fingers found my clit—I could feel it even through the cloth, swollen and stiff. I began to move them, slowly, and in my mouth his cock hardened even further in time with every throb.

I kept going. Right hand wrapped around Daeshik's cock. Left hand rubbing my clit through my panties. More pre-cum kept seeping onto my tongue, and I swallowed. Gulp.

Daeshik hissed a short curse.

"…Seo Yerim."

His voice had gone hoarse.

"There."

I pinned my tongue to that spot—just under the head—sucking tight while my tongue flicked in small strokes. At the same time, my left hand slipped inside my panties, and the moment my fingers touched me directly, my whole body shuddered. My clit caught between my fingertips, hot and hard, my arousal slicking them. I held my breath.

His thighs were visibly shaking now. His hand tightened a little more in my hair.

"I'm close."

Instead of pulling off, I bit down gently and took him deeper—pushed him to the entrance of my throat, swallowed around him, savored him with my tongue while my fingers flew over my clit.

Daeshik's breath stopped altogether.

"…Hah."

A low, long groan tore out of him. His cock pulsed hard in my mouth, and heat spilled out—cum spreading across my tongue, thick and salty. And at that exact moment, my fingers pressed down hard on my clit. My thighs shook. My toes went numb and curled. My womb clamped down once, hard.

"Nn…♡"

The sound slipped out of me with his cock still in my mouth. I didn't stop. I took every last drop to the very end, and my fingers kept moving. A wave surged up through me and receded, leaving my thighs hot and slick. I swallowed one last time. Gulp.

His hand slipped from my hair. I heard him catching his breath where he leaned against the wall, and I let his cock slide slowly from my mouth, wiping what lingered at the corner of my lips with the back of my hand. I pushed myself up from my knees—stiff and aching from the cold floor, the inside of my thighs damp.

Daeshik watched me, back against the wall, his breathing still not even.

I spoke first.

"This month's rent."

He looked at me for a beat. Then he closed his eyes.

"…Alright."

A short answer. Daeshik watched me a while longer, then straightened his clothes, picked the file binder up off the floor, and headed for the door—stopping once, just before slipping his shoes on.

"Seo Yerim."

"What."

"Last month's comes when the shoot money lands."

"I won't forget."

Daeshik's face went skeptical.

"And you smoke outside from now on."

"I said I got it."

The door shut. Click.

The studio went suddenly, completely quiet—so quiet it was hard to believe two people had been in this room minutes ago. I stood there for a while.

The system slid belatedly into one corner of my vision.

And then the last line.

I glared at the screen for several seconds.

"Are you serious? I did something."

"I solved this month's rent, didn't I?"

It was so absurd I actually laughed.

"Fine. Zero percent. So what."

I shoved the window away with my hand. But my head still wouldn't come back all the way. On the sink sat the glass Daeshik had dug out earlier, packed to the brim with cigarette butts—and looking right at it, I pulled a fresh cigarette from the pack, clamped it between my lips, and walked to the window.

When I pushed the window open wider, the evening air swept across my face and through my pink hair. The lighter flame wavered for a second. Click. The end of the cigarette glowed red.

"…He said to smoke outside."

Muttering it to myself, I leaned just my upper body out the window, and with my head still not fully back in my skull, I took a long, deep drag and let the smoke drift out in a thin ribbon.

That was when a notification popped up at the edge of my vision.

Cigarette still between my lips, I squinted at it.

"What."

I had never written a post in my life. And yet the title was already up.

"…Unbelievable."

The comments were faster than I was.

I jabbed reflexively at the space beneath the post.

Not there.

Not there.

There wasn't even a Report button. Instead, a single new figure had attached itself beneath my profile.

"I never posted anything."

The smoke caught in my throat.

"What?"

I stared at the screen for a long while. And then it finally dawned on me.

This gallery was never built for me to write down my own trainwreck. Whether I kept my mouth shut, whether I hid everything, whether it was the kind of thing I'd die of shame before ever admitting out loud—

they would post it themselves.

"…This place is fucking vile."

The comment count ticked up by one more. I shut the system window down without another word and dragged on the cigarette, deeper this time.

Only the smoke went out the window, long and slow.