* * *
“I still can’t believe you like me. It’s like a dream. Even your mistakes make me happy, because they prove how real this is.”
“If you weren’t such an idiot, you’d have figured that out a lot sooner.”
Ouch. Love hurts, apparently.
He snarked, but then lowered my sore hand and held the other one.
His grip was firmer than when I’d kissed him earlier, but nowhere near as strong as when he crushed it before.
“Does that feel okay?”
“It’s bearable.”
“I see…”
Again, that surprised tone.
Did he really think even this would be too much for me?
In his eyes, I must still be fragile.
Well, okay. I am a little soft.
But not that soft!
So the “testing phase” continued.
I couldn’t handle Batista’s full strength—obviously—but he admitted I was much sturdier than he’d assumed.
That’s a relief on all fronts.
Maybe now he won’t worry so much.
“Reality’s a bit different from what you imagined, huh?”
He gave a small nod.
“That’s why people need to talk!”
Any conclusion reached by overthinking alone is bound to be inaccurate.
I already believed that before, but this time-travel experience really drove it home.
People are unpredictable—no amount of analysis can capture the whole picture.
Whatever the issue is, talking and double-checking is the best way.
Talk first.
Always communicate.
Get close, and share what’s real.
That’s been my number one guiding principle from the start.
Seriously, it was so hard when Batista just clammed up about everything.
Add the fact that I couldn’t even tell him about my regression?
It nearly drove me insane.
But once we get through this, no more pointlessly flailing around like with the whole Gaspar situation, right?
The first step is Batista being willing to talk, of course…
“…I’m trying.”
He answered in his usual gruff voice, though this time it sounded strangely shy.
Now that I think about it—yeah.
He’s really been answering everything I’ve said.
And just realizing that makes my chest warm.
It means Batista acknowledges me as someone worth opening up to.
Maybe from now on, I won’t have to suffer through the frustration of silence anymore.
“You’re the best! I love you more than anything!”
I beamed.
“I already thought you were the perfect guy, but seeing you working on your weaknesses like this? That makes you even more amazing!”
“…”
“Facing your flaws is the hardest thing anyone can do. I’m so lucky to be dating a man this incredible…!”
Before I could even finish saying “I don’t know,” Batista kissed me.
He’s someone who gets easily embarrassed, so it was obvious he was flustered by all the compliments. It was seriously cute.
And come on, he used to cover my mouth with his hand, but now he stops my words with a kiss?
Isn’t that super romantic?
I’m so happy.
I’m dating Batista.
I am dating the Hero… someone like me…
Batista gripped my shoulders tightly.
It was clear he meant “stop overthinking,” and I closed my eyes in response.
When the kiss ended, he placed my hand on his chest.
…Huh?
I mean, Batista took my hand and put it on his chest.
My hand? On his chest?
Batista did that himself?
I thought I’d gotten somewhat used to his ridiculously sexy body after we lay around half-naked talking in bed for a while, but I absolutely hadn’t.
The moment I felt that firm but soft texture, my face flared up with heat.
“C-Can I touch?”
He must mean I can touch, right?
That’s the only explanation, right?
He knows I like chests, so he’s letting me touch on purpose!
I know that, but still—my sense of reason just can’t accept this.
How is this even happening?
My hand just trembled helplessly.
Batista is personally giving me permission to touch his chest however I want—how could something this amazing be real?
“Y-you don’t have to go out of your way to match what I like, Batista… Just being able to sleep with you is more than enough for me…”
I panicked and started babbling.
I must’ve sounded so stupid, but I couldn’t help it.
“What are you even talking about?”
Batista raised a brow like he was telling me to quit being ridiculous.
“I feel good, so… I want you to touch me.”
Oh my god.
R-right? Yeah, that makes sense.
Even the first time we did it, Batista was sensitive around the chest.
And maybe I made him even more sensitive with how persistently I played with it.
So of course it’d feel good if I touched him there again…
But that’s just the objective truth—I was losing my mind over what it meant.
Batista wants this.
He asked me to touch his chest.
How is this kind of indecent situation even allowed to exist?
I’m unbelievably turned on.
From the outside, Batista always looks like this cold, ruthless guy, wrapped in tight leather armor, staring down at everyone with icy eyes.
He seems like the type who’d be celibate for life—but in reality, he’s overflowing with desire and even begs like this.
The fact that only I get to see this side of him sends this rush of superiority through my whole body.
“O-okay, then… I’ll do my best…”
My brain felt like it was short-circuiting, so my voice came out ridiculously dumb.
But I didn’t have time to be embarrassed.
I swallowed hard and sat up.
I brought both hands to Batista’s chest, where he straddled me.
His torso was massive—those broad pecs suited his build so well they didn’t even fully fit in my hands.
His thick chest flesh dented under my fingers, soft yet firm, sending a dizzying sensation through me.
The clearest feeling was that he was letting go of all tension, completely offering his body to me.
Batista’s broad chest was as soft and generous as his heart when he forgave me for all the dumb things I’ve done.
Encouraged, I gave his chest a good squeeze.
His flesh gathered firmly in my palms, then bounced right back into shape.
The elasticity from his devoted training felt amazing.
If his muscles weren’t woven so densely, it wouldn’t be nearly this satisfying to touch.
This firm, springy feeling—it screams strength in the sexiest way possible.
The realization made my excitement surge again.
His deep brown skin looked healthy and strong too—it was such a turn-on.
I just let myself indulge in the sensation wrapping around my fingers.
“Haa…”
As I massaged his chest, a soft moan escaped Batista’s lips.
That languid voice was insanely seductive.
I couldn’t help but look up to see his expression.
All I did was touch his chest, but he already looked pretty worked up.
His usually dusky cheeks were flushed red.
That must be more from the excitement of being with me again after so long than just the touching.
I felt the same—my heart was pounding like it would burst.
And Batista looking down at me with that desperate face?
It was so, so stimulating.
I know all too well what kind of cold disdain and boredom fill those eyes when he looks down on others.
But right now, they were focused only on me.
Just me.
His skin against mine felt hot.
“This feels so good…”
I murmured like I was possessed.
Wanting to make him feel even better, I leaned down and took one of his nipples into my mouth.
Even there, he radiated heat.
As my tongue flicked over it, Batista’s body twitched.
I licked up the red bud, teasing it with my tongue, while my hand tugged gently at the other one, which was already standing stiff.
A sharp gasp reached my ears.
His voice had gotten rougher than before.
Nothing turned me on more than watching Batista unravel under my touch.
It wasn’t just the sounds—his body stiffened under my hands with tension, revealing how much pleasure he felt.
He’s so cute.
* * *
🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰