📍 Working-Class Mr. Ahn’s Unscheduled Visits to Dr. Yeon’s Clinic continues…
⚠️ Just a casual warning – if you’re following along with Asuka and Jen’s fictional arc and delusion interior series, consider yourself warned. Everything under my fanfiction tab is totally fictional. There’s no need to get overly serious about any of it.
Oh Beom ah
Oh my god!!
OH BEOM AAAAAAA!!
Hahahaha bless these eagle eyes, whoever they are. Seriously, just how much is there to unpack?
Morning Milkshake
Just took a pot off the stove. It’s got a little more er, gochu this time.
Enjoy:
Asuka
1
“Si-eun-ah…”
“Yeah?”
“When did you make your first milkshake?”
His eyes still closed, Dr Yeon frowned lightly in confusion.
“What milkshake?”
His morning voice was soft and crackly.
“The hand-shaken, vanilla scented kind.”
Under the thick comforter, Dr Yeon felt Mr Ahn shift.
The bed made a sigh of soft fabric as Mr Ahn placed a firm hand on him and gave a playful squeeze.
“This kind.”
Dr Yeon turned his head away to hide a smile.
His mind had not yet travelled far from sleep and it wanted to return.
He yearned for the rare respite of last night, a mid-winter blessing of dreamless darkness, the silence warmed by Mr Ahn’s breathing.
But he became aware of Mr Ahn’s hand coming to life and starting a beat.
“Yah, don’t pretend to sleep. Your alert receptionist says the doctor is in.”
“You don’t have an appointment,”
muttered Dr Yeon half into his pillow, his head still turned.
He forced down a moan.
But a trace of the low note reached Mr Ahn’s cat ears.
“It’s ok, looks like the doctor’s coming.”
Si-eun’s breaths shortened as Suho persisted.
Little puffs of pleasure condensed in the dry air.
His toes curled and his fingers gripped the sheets as he fought against release.
He hadn’t expected this.
Usually Suho waited till they were in the shower.
Or at Yeon Clinic. Although he could also attack at the dining table.
Come to think of it, there was no predicting the call of the wild.
Once, Si-eun got pantsed while he was preparing some omelettes for their breakfast, lovingly folded with Spanish ham and French butter.
This led to a distraction that almost triggered the fire alarm, and Si-eun made sure to dump the charred remains onto Suho’s plate in mock irritation. Suho had apologized, but not before laughing himself silly.
They had MacDonald’s that morning.
“Suho wait… wait…”
But Suho only responded to the sweet pleas by working harder.
Si-eun could feel the dampness spreading.
It had probably already soaked through the loose grey sweats he used as pajamas. He didn’t feel the need for underwear around Suho.
“Stop… we’re gonn… dirty…th’sheets…”
Dr Yeon huffed out.
“Nah, won’t wanna waste anything.”
With speed and power that shocked against the languor of the cold morning, Suho whipped off everything that covered his mewling friend.
Then he ate hungrily, pushing down till he buried his nose in the soft, dark cloud of curls that marked boyish Si-eun as a man.
He lapped up the clear nectar that had leaked out in Si-eun’s bliss.
It was sweet-salty, and also lightly perfumed with the signature vanilla of its maker.
It was his favorite appetizer in the world, treasured as much as Cream of Si-eun, the main course soon to be served, but he kept this to himself.
The rapid changes of temperatures and textures—the snug warmth of cotton followed by the frigid air of a snowy dawn, and then the hot wetness that swallowed him whole—threatened to overwhelm the last of Si-eun’s resistance.
He swam through a delirium of happiness and pleasure, eventually becoming transfixed by Suho’s rhythm.
Then all at once, the moment of final tightening came and he stopped breathing altogether.
With the air stored in his chest, he whispered out the only word he kept in his heart of hearts, “Suho.”
Then his mind went blank.
Suho caught the light gasping of his name.
It was all wind, no vowels. And then the first gush spread onto his tongue. The second hit his throat, and he had to gulp it all down before he choked on love.
By the fourteenth pulse, the torrent had receded into a trickle that ended as a thick drop on the fifteenth.
He sat up and looked down at Si-eun, breathing raggedly with his right arm thrown above his head.
Little Si-eun was also throbbing along, a cute plump boy with a bowl cut nodding to the music of his heart.
More cream dribbled out unexpectedly from a delayed sixteenth pulse—sweet 16—and flowed downwards, lightly clumping the twirls of fur below.
Suho admired this sight he alone in the world was allowed to see.
Si-eun wasn’t particularly lengthy, but he was rich with liquid gold, and somehow always had more to spare than Suho.
Suho also kept this to himself.
“And that’s how I like my breakfast in bed,”
Suho chirped.
“And… you need breakfast too, right? Please say yes.”
Si-eun opened his eyes and saw Suho in a puppy-like pose, a goofy and earnest smile plastered on his face.
Then he noticed the dark patch of wet lust on Suho’s matching grey sweat pants.
It was straining to contain him.
Lucky beast really has two inches more…
Si-eun yawned.
“I’m going back to sleep. Be a good guardian and just sit like that till lunch,” he teased as he turned on his side in a little snigger.
“Mwo?!”
exclaimed Suho in playful indignation.
“That’s no way to treat your guardian angel!”
“Guardian devil.”
“Well there’s more than one way for this devil to feed you. Dr Yeon Si-eun. You know your pants are on the far side of the room, right?”
Suho smacked one of two exposed buns. His hand burned with excitement.
As the realization of what Suho intended to do dawned on him, Si-eun reflexively reached for—
“The covers are also across the room.”
This Ahn King Kong! thought Si-eun.
“Don’t you dare, ok?”
growled Si-eun harmlessly; he was smiling without reservation.
“You say that, but I can see Little Si-eun isn’t shrinking from the cold.”
With that, Suho pushed his waistband to his knees.
Little Suho stood tall and muscular, veined with desire and drooling with anticipation.
Si-eun gulped.
The light from the window behind Suho painted a flattering silhouette.
Of not-so-Little Suho.
“… … can you at least get the comforter and the lube?”
asked Si-eun.
“The lube’s finished and the comforter will just get in the way. Do we really need them?”
“What? Yes!”
“But why?”
“…’cause it’s freezing… and you’re a bit big…”
mumbled Si-eun, using only his lips and clenched teeth.
“Huh, what? What did you say?”
Suho broke into a full grin.
“Nothing.”
“No, you definitely said something wise.”
“I said it’s freezing.”
Suho looked right into Si-eun’s eyes. He remained smiling, wordless.
“What?”
asked Si-eun, suddenly a little self-conscious.
“I’m so happy I met you, Yeon Si-eun.”
Then he pulled his pants up, got off the bed and walked to the other end of the room to retrieve the comforter and Si-eun’s sweatpants.
With his back turned, he said,
“You know, it’s ok if you really wanna sleep.”
Si-eun sat up on the bed. He was very cold from the waist down, but he felt his face grow warm.
Suho could say the sweetest things without effort and without warning.
“Hey, your face is as pink as Little Si-eun’s!”
Suho remarked, returning with the comforter bunched in his right hand and trailing on the carpet, Si-eun’s pants in his left.
“Oh shut up and lie down already.”
“Huh why?”
“I suddenly miss the taste of you.”
The Newton Method
2
After a hearty breakfast made with passion, the two boys hibernated in an organically scented embrace till past noon, to replenish their vital energies.
Dr Yeon awoke first.
The hallway floor nipped at his skin like frost, so he put on furry slippers and shuffled to the kitchen.
He looked out the windows to see that a light layer of snow had settled onto the trees like a gossamer wedding dress.
He was glad Yeon Clinic was on an arbitrarily decided, fully paid staff holiday for today and tomorrow.
He knew Suho would be available: Whenever Yeon Clinic was closed for a staff holiday, Mr Ahn also made sure to declare a staff holiday for his consultancy company of one person.
He hadn’t made any plans to go anywhere special.
Just being around Suho was the recharge he needed, even if Suho drained him literally.
He looked down at his sweats and smiled wryly.
The dampness had dried into a faint stain about half a palm in size.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have hot soup now? Samgyetang maybe?
Dr Yeon walked to Suho’s fridge.
He opened the doors and stared in dismay at the mostly empty shelves. There was no chicken, there was no pork.
Somewhere at the back of the top shelf was a greying steak of unknown age. There were some green chili peppers in a plastic bag on the first shelf, and two eggs left in the egg compartment.
The milk was probably yogurt.
Just enough for a chili omelette for Suho.
“Pretty sad huh?”
remarked Mr Ahn loudly.
He smiled when he saw Dr Yeon jolt.
He never tired of this.
“You do this on purpose don’t you?”
demanded Dr Yeon.
“Do what?”
asked Mr Ahn, blinking with over-the-top innocence.
“If I’d been holding those two sad eggs, they would have cracked and made a mess.”
“Well you did hold my two eggs this morning, they didn’t crack, and they still made a mess.”
“Please, those don’t count as eggs. They are much smaller.”
Mr Ahn sucked in his breath through his teeth.
“Wah daebak! What an insult! Look at how far you’ve come, Dr Yeon.”
“Not that far. It was just in your mouth.”
Mr Ahn’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped.
It was a historic moment, the first real sex joke from the innocent lips of Dr Yeon Si-eun, born on a wintry January afternoon.
“Good lord, really. Who taught you to speak like that?”
“You know, it’s probably you. You’re my most corrupting influence. But years of Baku and Gotak could have laid the foundation.”
“Ah… I wish I could have been there. Too bad I was asleep.”
He can also talk about the most brutal things without effort and without warning, thought Dr Yeon, trying not to wince.
He closed the fridge doors and went about looking in the kitchen drawers. Perhaps there would be oats.
Or some tea, or coffee, or ginseng.
Or anything that could prevent his mind from growing dark this bright afternoon.
Mr Ahn saw the dimming of Dr Yeon’s eyes and quickly started talking about what had made him curious in the morning.
“Hey, you haven’t answered my question,”
Mr Ahn said sunnily.
“You mean, why have I become corrupted?”
“No. When did you make your first milkshake?”
Dr Yeon stopped rummaging through the cabinets.
“Why on earth do you want to know that?”
“I want to know everything about you.”
There he goes again with his disarming frankness.
“I…my first milkshake? I…”
stuttered Si-eun.
The term was adorable but ridiculous.
“When did you make your first?”
Such an obvious pivot, Suho smirked.
But he answered nonetheless:
“I was about 12. Right around the time when things started growing. It felt good so I haven’t stopped since, and it’s made me the man I am. Your turn.”
This brought up awkward memories of Si-eun’s changing body in middle school.
His father, who made a career of coaching successful jocks, had counted on puberty as the miracle drug that would fix his dull son.
But Si-eun had simply transformed into a letdown.
Not tall, not fast, not strong. He saw it all in his father’s face.
The tense smiles, the quiet sighs, the customary pat-on-the-back phrase “I’m glad you tried, son” whenever he clinched a participation award in a sporting event, but never a real prize.
But with Suho, at last Si-eun felt sufficient.
He felt needed and wanted.
Ah let’s just get this over and done with! thought Si-eun.
“I…I never made milkshakes.”
Now Suho looked confused.
He furrowed his brow and asked,
“What do you mean you never made milkshakes? We’ve made so many together!”
“Yeah, and the one you made at the Eunjang anime club was my first. You’re always my first.”
Suho could feel a full blush coming on.
How can he be so direct sometimes?
Then he remembered Si-eun showing him around Eunjang after official school hours.
Baku had kindly lent him his uniform as a disguise, so Suho didn’t mind that it smelled rather unwashed.
Si-eun had brought him to the anime club, and Suho had laughed.
It was the cutest and most wholesome club he had ever seen.
They had read some series together, and perhaps it was the combination of the dusk light, and how Si-eun’s hair fell over his eyebrows that day, or how Si-eun’s voice had grown noticeably deeper as an 18 year old senior at Eunjang—to Suho this had happened in an instant.
Or perhaps it was because Si-eun had suddenly smiled (so radiantly!) and said, “I like your braces.”
Suho had got them right after he was discharged from the hospital.
He had replied, “You want to feel them?”
And then they shared a clumsy first kiss, all teeth and metal and tongues, their ears burning.
One thing led to another, and a hundred kisses later, before the sun had set completely, Suho had filled his palm with Si-eun’s essence.
Even his large hand was not sufficient as a vessel, and he had to use the nearest available tankobon, Dragon Ball Z volume 2, to clean up the significant spillage.
Assistant head of club Juntae would have totally flipped.
Si-eun was the head of the club, but his knees had buckled and he sat on the floor, too dazed to protest.
And now Suho finally knew why:
That wasn’t just his first kiss! That was also his first…oh my god! I blew his circuits!
Flustered, intrigued, and feeling like he had solved a cold-case like Kindaichi, Suho exclaimed,
“But we were already 18 by then! You really never made any before that?”
He had to make sure.
Si-eun shook his head.
Dr Yeon was a hard-boiled physician who never had a problem discussing urological mechanics.
In his family practice, he had on several occasions counseled young teen boys who asked him if ‘their friend’ was going to die because he had squeezed out some white pus at home.
Dr Yeon had replied robotically, “masturbation is an aspect of growing up, and both boys and girls do it. There is even research to suggest it may be healthy for boys, because it might protect their prostate.”
Usually they would then ask him what a prostate was, though there was once a teen of a naughtier disposition who had asked him,
“Seonsaengnim, do you masturbate?”
Dr Yeon had replied, “My friend does.”
But with Suho, it was different. Suho’s cheeky gaze saw right to the center of his soul.
It stripped him of his reputation and his accomplishments and all the social armor he used to maintain a distance from others.
With Suho, everything was personal. Scientific detachment failed to activate in his presence.
With Suho, he became Si-eun again, shy when talking about his non-existent adolescent wanking habits, but also adamant that he did not make a wrong lifestyle choice.
Without meaning to, Si-eun had started staring at the floor, hands behind his back, red faced and pouting.
It made Suho want to hug him.
And lick him.
“So you…didn’t you get any urges? Sometimes you are really hungry, you know?”
Suho winked.
“I did get urges. I’m a guy, it’s normal for guys. It’s our sex drive fueled by testosterone,”
replied Si-eun, attempting a dry, technical tone.
“Then how did you resist them?”
Suho was genuinely curious.
Si-eun paused a while.
Then he mumbled cryptically, “Newton.”
“What?”
“Newton,”
Si-eun said again, louder.
“What Newton? Who is Newton?”
“I mean I recited Newton’s laws and theories. The effort kept the urges away.”
Suho placed his hand on his face and snorted with laughter.
Is he serious? Are there really people of such purity?
Suho always felt that even young priests and monks were secret hypocrites rubbing themselves whenever they could.
Si-eun was a true saint.
Newton would have been so proud.
Suho himself did it at least once a week, and in more hormonal seasons he did it twice a day for weeks at a stretch.
He also emptied himself in Byeoksan High’s staff toilet, where he showered in the early mornings after night delivery work, far more times than he could keep count.
He probably nourished an entire generation of Byeoksan’s sewer rats.
“Don’t laugh ok,” Si-eun said a little sourly.
“It’s made me who I am. I thought you said you were very happy to meet me?”
Suho sobered up and intoned: “I am.”
He knew when Si-eun told the truth with nothing to hide.
Then with perfect seriousness, Si-eun said:
“I am also very happy I met you, Ahn Suho.”
Suho melted into sunshine.
“Come, let’s go out, I’m hungry.”
Suho said, buoyant.
He felt like he could run round the earth.
“What do you want to eat?”
Si-eun asked, hoping Suho wanted some kind of hot broth as well.
But he would eat whatever Suho chose.
“Anything.”
Suho shrugged.
“Just not your burnt omelettes.”
“My burnt…Yah! Ahn Suho!”
3
“You know, if you had done as much as me, you would have attained another two inches.”
“Oh shut up.”
But then it clicked in Suho’s mind.
Sperm Saint here stored it up for 18 years! Maybe that’s why he gives more than me every time…
By
Asuka
Want to see where Scheherazade’s tale begins? 🔗 Click here to jump to Part 1