* * *
Ben had been planning to subtly shut the shower door if Haimar came any closer, but the man, having already read his intentions, slipped his hand against the door and entered swiftly.
In trying to avoid him, Ben bumped into the corner of the booth.
Clunk—.
He must’ve knocked something off the wall shelf because the items up top clattered, drawing Ben’s attention for a second.
In that brief moment, Haimar confirmed there was nowhere left for Ben to escape and grabbed his left arm.
“Ugh!”
Haimar had only meant to hold him lightly, but Ben’s freshly injured arm protested at even the slightest pressure.
Startled, Haimar quickly let go, but the unexpected pain made Ben instinctively grab the faucet behind him with his good hand.
Click—.
If only he’d just grabbed it.
But he’d accidentally pulled the lever up all the way, and water gushed out of the wall-mounted showerhead in a sudden downpour.
SHHHHHHH—.
The torrent of water, like a sudden summer storm, drenched both of them completely.
Ben quickly turned the lever back down in a panic, but it was already too late—there was no undoing it now.
“I-I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Ben looked up at Haimar in complete panic.
In that short span of time, his platinum blond hair had become soaked, and the knit sweater he wore clung to his body, completely drenched.
“This isn’t the time for this. Let me get you a towel—”
“Don’t.”
Ben froze at the low voice that cut him off.
Just as he was about to step past Haimar to fetch a towel, the man ran a hand through his dripping hair and casually peeled off the wet sweater, tossing it aside.
Under the bright bathroom lights, Haimar’s pale, well-toned body was revealed.
How is it that this man not only has absurd powers but also this annoyingly captivating presence?
And honestly, Ben was soaked too—so why did he look like a drowned rat while Haimar looked like he’d stepped out of a commercial?
Water droplets clung to Haimar’s hair, trailing down his sharp features and sliding along his sculpted muscles.
As Haimar stepped even closer, pressing Ben gently against the wall with nowhere left to flee, Ben had no choice but to look up at him.
Wait—why am I the one embarrassed just because another guy took his shirt off?
W-we’re both shirtless, that’s all.
And we’re standing way too close, that’s why it feels weird.
That’s all it is.
Plus, our relationship isn’t exactly simple, either…
As his thoughts spiraled, a flush slowly crept up Ben’s face.
He and Haimar were an Esper and a Guide.
They were “giving things time,” as they’d agreed—but ultimately, their bond involved physical intimacy, and beyond that—
No, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. Calm down.
Just as Ben reined in his thoughts, Haimar’s voice dropped from above.
“See? You should’ve just accepted my help when I offered nicely.”
Who would believe Haimar Eilec’s so-called kindness?
Besides, he was the one who started this whole mess in the first place.
“I said I was fine. You kept coming closer anyway. That’s how this happened.”
“You don’t think you were in the wrong?”
“I apologized, didn’t I?”
Haimar’s eyes curved mischievously as he gently tilted Ben’s chin up to meet his gaze.
“I don’t recall accepting it.”
He’s totally messing with me. Just a nasty personality, that’s all!
“Are you always this mean?”
“You’re just now noticing?”
Ben glared at him, puffing up in frustration, but Haimar just laughed it off like it was nothing.
Honestly, Ben hadn’t expected anything else.
Haimar chuckled again and asked,
“So? Are you admitting you were wrong or not?”
Ben had to admit, with the water incident, today’s events, and how he’d dodged things in the past… yeah, he’d racked up a few sins.
He couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t in the wrong.
But still, to just flat-out admit it?
He felt a bit cheated.
He’d already apologized properly—why keep pushing?
“You were the one who hurt my arm. Let’s call it even.”
“I offered to help and you refused.”
God, I can’t win an argument with this guy.
If this kept up, he’d never get around to actually washing.
Sighing, Ben gave in, relaxing his expression a bit.
“Fine. What do you want me to do, then?”
“Kiss me.”
Wait—who was the one who just decided to step back a second ago?
Ben froze, his face completely blank.
‘What did he just say?’
Surely that didn’t mean what it sounded like.
But in moments like this, it was best to stay rational.
Completely rational.
“…Why does it come to that?”
“Because you were in the wrong. What’s the problem?”
There are so many problems with that, you absolute lunatic.
Ben had pictured this whole thing ending with him feeling a little awkward but ultimately accepting Haimar’s help and finishing the shower in peace.
But now—a kiss?
A kiss??
Was it the kiss he thought it was?
Or was Haimar talking about some other obscure definition of the word?
“Think again. Are you sure that’s what you meant?”
“You’re not dumb enough to not know what a kiss is, are you?”
There was no flow in this conversation where a kiss could naturally happen.
Then again, trying to predict or plan anything when it came to Haimar Eilec was probably the real mistake.
How could an ordinary guy like Ben Plaskun be expected to understand someone that no one could predict?
If there was a mistake, it was entirely his own fault for letting things escalate this far.
He couldn’t blame that man—so who else was there to blame but himself?
Ugh!
“Don’t tell me—you’ve never initiated a kiss before?”
“What do you take me for?!”
Ben snapped, their noses nearly touching now as Haimar’s teasing words hit him directly.
People say humans are creatures of adaptation.
Thinking back, he’d been out of it with a fever last time.
The only difference now was that he was in his right mind.
And sure, that was a big difference, maybe the difference, but if Haimar could stay unbothered, why couldn’t he?
The first time is always the hardest—after one, it becomes two, then three.
Besides, Ben didn’t want to drag this out any longer, and while he wasn’t exactly swimming in romantic experience, he didn’t want to be treated like some clueless virgin either.
Ah… Ah, screw it! Whatever!
“If it’s just a kiss you want—fine, is that all?!”
Ben’s voice shook a little, and instead of answering, Haimar just gave him a faint smile that said, “Go ahead and try.”
On his face, it looked like an angel’s grin—but God, it was irritating.
‘ Fine. I’ll wipe that smug look off your pretty face.’
“Hoo…”
Ben took a deep breath and grabbed Haimar’s face with both hands.
Then, what he did next…
With his eyes squeezed shut, he went in and smashed their lips together.
Their soft lips collided, and silence followed.
He’d made up his mind, sure—but now that they were actually kissing, his brain went blank.
Still, there was no backing down now.
If he ended it here, Haimar would absolutely mock him: ‘That was a kiss?’
No way. Not a chance.
Forcing himself forward, Ben hesitantly wriggled his tongue forward, gently parting Haimar’s lips.
“Mmph—!”
Just as Ben’s tongue slipped in, Haimar’s searing tongue surged forward and swallowed him whole.
Before he could even process the sudden turn, Ben was backed up against the wall.
Haimar’s hand gripped the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.
Wh-what the hell—!?
The kiss was so intense, Ben could barely keep up.
Haimar’s tongue kept scraping lightly against the roof of his mouth, making his face heat up.
Gasping for air, Ben instinctively turned his head, but Haimar just chased after him, diving deeper.
“Haa…”
Their lips finally parted, and a heated breath passed between them, a string of saliva connecting them.
He hadn’t noticed it back when he was sick, but—damn it—it was clear as day now: Haimar was a ridiculously good kisser.
He’d pretended to let Ben lead, only to take over completely.
Ben glared at him, red-faced and full of frustration.
“You’re the one who wanted a kiss—ugh! What are you doing—”
Just when he thought it was over, Haimar’s other arm slipped behind Ben’s back, fingers trailing sensuously along his spine.
The sudden touch made Ben flinch and try to push him away, but Haimar’s lips found his again, stealing away any resistance.
If the first kiss had been a forceful charge, the second was disarmingly gentle.
Haimar’s tongue moved slowly, lazily exploring every corner of his mouth.
The softness of it only made Ben’s already burning face grow hotter.
Just as his lungs screamed for air, Haimar adjusted the pace, delivering breath and pressure in perfectly timed waves.
The hand on his back slid lower, fingers tracing along each rib as though memorizing them.
When those fingers lightly brushed over his chest, grazing his nipple, Ben jerked in surprise.
“Ugh—?!”
Wha—What are you touching now!?
Cooler-than-his-own fingertips circled his faint areola, then teased the peaked center with deliberate strokes.
The feeling was strange—ticklish, almost painful at times.
Wet from the kiss and sensitized, Ben’s body reacted involuntarily, the hardened tip growing firmer with each calculated touch.
* * *
