Jongwoo can't deny the truth. Even after discovering the kind of monster that lurked beneath Moonjo's persona, Jongwoo still thinks of him, almost fondly...sometimes.
It's not like he could help it. The trauma caused by the serial killings in Seoul was one thing, his own involvement in them another.
After more than a year of confinement at the local mental health facility, Jongwoo has grown to accept what had truly transpired in Seoul. The facts were easier to remember now that he was no longer denying his part in the massacre of Eden Goshiwon.
He knew two things to be true:
One, he had murdered the remaining residents of Eden. Two, there were no surviving residents left aside from him.
The killings perpetrated by himself replay in his head now with absolute clarity, a contrast from the young man's fuzzy memories of the ordeal back when he was still in denial.
After all this time, Jongwoo has to admit: the murders just don't bother him anymore. They were bad people and they deserved to die.
Jongwoo received treatment for what he now knows was Post-traumatic stress disorder, the mental illness that most likely caused his violent outbursts and loss of temper that led to the casualties in Eden. Of course, it's not like he had told the therapists exactly what had happened in Eden. But the therapy and medication, Jongwoo likes to think, has helped him at least understand himself a bit more.
And what of his enduring fixation with Moonjo, the serial killing dentist of room 304? Probably born out of loneliness now that he was still out of a job, miserable and broke in Seoul.
But Jongwoo can't help but think, especially on nights like this, if he would still feel so alone in the world had Moonjo survived.
Jongwoo theorized that Moonjo saw his murder of the residents as the one final act that would push him and Moonjo towards the edge of their mutual destruction and twisted redemption. And Jongwoo's rebirth...into whatever kind of monster the man wanted him to be.
Jongwoo wonders if Moonjo would be disappointed in him now. He's done what Moonjo asked and more by killing the man himself to fulfill his "destiny."
Because who was Jongwoo now? Still his own lackluster self, back to being normal and struggling to make ends meet just to be able to send money to his mother back home.
Jongwoo has been drinking. And he feels even more pathetic, surrounded by his rumpled bedding in a dingy motel, because just thinking about a dead man has made him hard.
The young writer debates just ignoring his erection and falling asleep or taking a cold shower, before finally deciding to succumb to temptation.
Jongwoo takes off his boxers in the sweltering heat of the room. He finds it a little embarrassing that he didn't even need to view pornography on his phone to get this fully aroused.
It was insane, the kind of mental images of Moonjo he could conjure up. He should've forgotten most of what Moonjo looked like now that he's been gone for more than a year, but his mind still recalls his striking features in razor sharp detail.
Jongwoo misses Moonjo's dark, unfathomable eyes that would only light up when he was in the room. He remembers a smile that once betrayed a perfect set of straight white teeth, fitting for a dentist.
Jongwoo remembers the feeling of his hair grasped tightly by his fingers, the sharp curve of the man's jaw, and the bob of his Adam's apple as he spoke his favorite endearment: jagiya.
The familiar voice awakened in Jongwoo's memory makes desire pool in his loins.
Jongwoo lets out a moan as he grasps his dick firmly, pumping faster as various images of Moonjo floods his vision.
Moonjo basking shirtless in the moonlight, covered in unmistakable scarlet.
Moonjo's calloused hands...bringing him closer to the edge.
Jongwoo's eyes are closed tightly, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat, when the man of his dreams finally emerges from the shadows.
"Thinking about me, jagiya?"
The devil himself smirks at Jongwoo, his eyes already dark with desire and longing.
Jongwoo, in his pleasure-addled and drunken haze, thanks his mind for playing tricks on him at the perfect time.
Moonjo stands before him in the flesh, as beautiful and pale as the day Jongwoo killed him.
The man just moves to sit in the chair directly facing the bed and continues watching Jongwoo with an amused gaze.
Jongwoo makes no reply except for a gasp that escapes his lips as he touches himself to the image of the perfect phantom sitting in his chair.
Jongwoo strokes himself almost to orgasm, a bead of precome already glistening at his tip. Moonjo has never felt so close, so real, and so intoxicating to Jongwoo in all the months of his vivid hallucinations in confinement.
Jongwoo's hips stutter as he fucks into his own hand, his own gaze still trained on Moonjo who has never once broken eye contact with him as he pleasured himself.
If he could just...there, just a little bit more and he would be undone completely.
"Stop. Not yet, jagi."
Jongwoo almost whimpers at the command but complies anyway. He's never been this turned on. His cock practically aches from arousal, begging for reprieve.
"Touch your chest for me," Moonjo purrs.
Jongwoo's cheeks color with scarlet as if the last few minutes of getting himself off in front of Moonjo never happened.
Jongwoo obeys, his gaze drawing downwards to his chest in embarrassment.
"Look only at me, jagiya," Moonjo warns.
Jongwoo holds eye contact with the man again as he pinches at a dusky nub, surprising himself with his own gasp of pain and pleasure as the new sensation makes his weeping cock twitch. He tries to suppress a moan as he drags a nail across the other nipple, all the while staring at Moonjo who looks as debauched and wrecked as he is despite not even lifting a finger.
Jongwoo continues the ministrations on his nipples, letting out little mewls of pleasure and desperation to Moonjo as the need and throb of his own desire overwhelms him completely.
"Please...Moonjo," Jongwoo pleads as his cock begs for friction.
"Ah, jagi. If only you could see yourself like this. So beautiful, so good for me," Moonjo praises.
"Go ahead, make yourself come for me."
Jongwoo wraps a hand around his cock, speeding up his movements to chase the pleasure that instantly builds in him again.
"Are you going to come, jagiya?"
Jongwoo can only nod as his impending orgasm almost makes his mind go blank. He spills into his hand, and comes undone with Moonjo's name on his lips.
From the corners of his hazy vision, Jongwoo makes out Moonjo's lithe form rising from the chair as the room fades to black.
Moonjo follows him to his dreams. The man's cool lips press to his forehead, whispering words to his ear that Jongwoo knows will always be true.
"We'll be together forever, jagiya."