* * *
“Hnng…!”
A shrill sound escaped Ben’s lips as something scraped against the sensitive roof of his mouth.
Just before he could even register that it was a sound he’d never made before, Haimar tilted his head and deepened the kiss, leaving Ben breathless.
All his senses were drawn to the heat of lips and tongue, and the overwhelming pressure inside his mouth made the strength drain from his body even more.
C-Can’t… breathe…
Perhaps confirming that he’d swallowed all the medicine, Haimar bit Ben’s lower lip lightly before pulling away.
The intense heat from the kiss—real or imagined—had left Ben flushed and panting for air.
Haimar, unfazed, downed the rest of the syrup in the bottle.
“Wa… wait… ugh!”
Wait?
There was no waiting.
Another kiss silenced Ben before he could say more.
As Haimar’s tongue brushed under his, Ben flinched, and the bittersweet syrup spilled down his throat again.
Some of it slipped from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin and along his neck.
Only when Haimar finally let go did Ben gasp for air like he’d been drowning.
His face was crimson, and his mind foggy—he couldn’t think straight, not with his head spinning like this.
As Ben struggled to recover from the heated kiss, Haimar casually brushed away the hazelnut-colored hair clinging to his face.
Ben’s pale eyes, now fully revealed, were red and glistening like they might spill tears any moment.
Maybe… I kind of want to make him cry.
Haimar grinned, sensual and slow, at the sight of Ben’s tear-filled eyes.
The way he licked his own lips was dangerously sexy, and Ben’s expression twisted, unsure of how to react.
The heat still tingling on his lips and the numbness in his jaw left him dazed, as if his soul had been sucked right out.
Everything that had just happened was making his body burn even hotter.
His vision blurred, everything except the man in front of him fading out.
The warmth of Haimar’s hand on his cheek felt like the only escape for all the heat inside him, and somehow, instead of pushing him away, Ben found himself clutching at the hem of Haimar’s shirt.
To put it simply—Ben was in no state to think rationally.
Haimar straddled Ben on the narrow couch, effectively pinning him.
One hand slid behind Ben’s back, and he felt how soaked his shirt was from sweat.
As Haimar’s cold hand traced along the bare skin of his back, Ben tensed up, reacting instinctively.
It wasn’t fear—just that primal jolt of a creature caught by a predator.
The pink syrup trailing down Ben’s jaw and neck looked starkly out of place against his usually composed image, giving the scene a dizzying heat.
Haimar leaned in and softly licked the syrup from his skin.
“Hh-ah…!”
Ben twisted at the hot, slippery sensation, but Haimar quickly held him still.
With no way to escape, Ben clung to Haimar as a strange, chilly thrill crept across his lips.
It was painful and overwhelming, but there was something dangerously euphoric blooming inside him, spreading like wildfire, and he didn’t know how to stop it.
Finally, tears welled up in Ben’s eyes, and a single drop slipped down his cheek.
In response, Haimar placed a light, teasing kiss on the corner of his eye and gently pulled strands of hair off his sweat-drenched forehead.
The effects of this deeper level of intimacy were startling.
For the first time, Haimar felt like there was a clear, open sky within him, free of even a speck of dust.
The wild energy inside him had calmed, fully under his control now.
It was unfamiliar, yet exhilarating—and he wanted to savor it.
If just this much physical contact could bring such clarity, what more could he gain by going further?
Ben was already half-dazed… it wouldn’t be strange if Haimar held him right now, completely.
But the feelings he experienced through Ben’s body—this freshness—was something Haimar had never known.
Like a spring bubbling up in a desert, or life sprouting in a long-dead wasteland, it felt new, vital.
He was surprised by himself.
A typical Esper, starving for his Guide, yet here he was, letting himself be changed, slowly, unknowingly.
His thoughts now were entirely different from how they were at the start.
He wanted to keep tasting him, like an endless pot of honey that never ran dry.
He wanted to indulge, and indulge, until Ben wept from exhaustion.
He wanted to know how much redder that face could get in bed.
What sounds Ben would make if he bit that smooth neck.
But—he didn’t go further.
The Haimar from before would’ve devoured Ben without hesitation.
But now, he found himself more intrigued by the thought of Ben choosing him with a clear mind.
That meant stopping here, for now.
If he forced himself on Ben, that vague discomfort he once called “regret” would come back.
It was laughable, even to himself.
The man who’d never held back from taking what he wanted was now practicing restraint—for Ben.
Of course, Ben wouldn’t know that.
But since Haimar had stopped himself here, surely a kiss or a hug was something Ben could handle.
Haimar looked down at the man in his arms.
Ben’s breathing had calmed, likely from the medicine taking effect, but the heat still lingering in his body made him squirm slightly.
It’s… hot…
The fever was fading, but his head and ears still ached.
Seeking comfort, Ben pressed closer to Haimar’s cooler body.
He was aware it was Haimar, and he vaguely remembered something about being kissed, but in his hazy state, he couldn’t think deeply about it.
He’d always been alone when sick.
He never knew just having someone beside him could help him bear the pain.
That familiar loneliness began to feel distant, and despite the aches, Ben felt strangely at peace.
Even though his body flinched at every touch, he didn’t resist—he let himself relax in Haimar’s arms.
His eyelids grew heavier.
As he blinked slowly and let out a soft yawn, Haimar whispered in that addictive, velvety voice—
“Sleep well.”
And like a spell, those words sank in, and Ben’s eyes gently closed.
∗ ∗ ∗
From the deep sea of sleep, consciousness slowly returned.
There were no dreams, no interruptions. Just deep, uninterrupted rest.
‘How long… did I sleep?’
As Ben’s eyes fluttered open, he felt the puffiness around them.
His body felt limp, but his mind was clear, and the fever had mostly subsided.
He blinked a few times, adjusting, and the first thing he saw was a broad chest in a white shirt.
“Ah…”
He didn’t need to be told whose it was.
And on this cramped sofa, he was practically buried in that chest, holding on tightly like letting go would mean disaster.
For some reason, Haimar had come to him last night—and then…
Again—
He finally remembered what had happened the night before.
‘…So humiliating…!!!’
Ben felt his previously calm face flush red-hot in an instant.
Even if his brain had been completely fried last night, he remembered vividly what had happened.
He wished it had all just been a dream.
But the heat of those lips, the cold touch of that hand—those sensations were still far too real.
He couldn’t just write it all off as a hallucination, and that only made Ben feel more defeated.
‘I’m crazy. I’ve totally lost it.’
‘How could I act like that? It’s pathetic. So pathetic it’s driving me nuts!’
As Ben subtly tried to pull away the hand he’d been holding, the strong arm wrapped around his waist tightened, pulling him back in.
With his face still buried in Haimar’s chest and unable to move, a lazy voice came from above him.
“You’re awake?”
Ben couldn’t lift his head.
He had no idea what kind of face he should be making.
Should he apologize for making a fool of himself, or get mad about that unexpected kiss?
He wasn’t sure what the right reaction was.
For now—just for now—he answered as casually as he could.
“…Yeah. Um… how long did I sleep?”
“It’s just past eleven now, so quite a while.”
“What?!”
Ben’s eyes went wide in disbelief.
He glanced outside, and sure enough, the bright sunlight and clear skies showed it was well past morning and heading into early afternoon.
His diligent worker’s mind scrambled to figure out a plan for this unplanned day off.
“I should go to work—!”
“I already told them you wouldn’t be coming in.”
“…Ah.”
As Haimar effortlessly pinned him back down with just one arm, Ben stared at him, stunned.
His dumbfounded expression made it obvious he had no idea what was going on, so Haimar gave a little shake of the smartphone buried in the couch cushions like he was confirming it.
Only then did Ben’s brain slowly, like a broken computer, begin to piece things together.
* * *
