Page 45 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

Rick’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “A nurse gave them to me. You left them at the field hospital. Not that I intended to steal them. I just couldn’t part with them.” When silence fell and stretched, Rick added, “Are you angry? Even if you are, I will only return one.”

The air caught in Kuon’s throat as corrosive guilt suffocated him for not taking Rick’s feelings seriously. Rick’s passion had always bothered him and made him uncomfortable, causing headaches. Coming from a man, such affection felt wrong.

Kuon wasn’t ready to admit he was bisexual. Of all the men he’d met, only one attracted him. Even in his mind, he separated Yugo from the rest. Yugo was different. With him, it was fine. Maybe because they’d already been intimate, so that wasn’t an obstacle. Kuon couldn’t say.

Rick… They were friends, brothers in arms. Always had been, always would be. He couldn’t even imagine the possibility of being intimate with Rick.

Unlike with Yugo, there was no adrenaline-fueled sex to deepen their relationship, no fights or power struggles.

Nothing to spark the passive-aggressive dynamics Kuon associated with gay relationships.

There were also no emotional triggers leading to intimacy, so he dismissed Rick’s feelings as brotherly affection, confusion that should have cooled down eventually.

It was easier that way because if Rick’s gentle, respectful care was love, then what did Kuon have with Yugo, and how could he still want it?

Kuon’s throat closed.

“Don’t make such a face.” Rick swallowed his nerves, and an uncertain hand, as if bracing for a slap, reached Kuon’s neck, making him realize how ready Rick was for rejection. Yet he risked their friendship for a tiny chance of acceptance. “I can’t stand it.”

Life is so unfair. Shouldn’t feelings this strong and sincere be cherished and returned? Yet here they are, wasted on me.

Kuon tried to remember if Yugo’s touch had ever been so gentle and careful and couldn’t.

A kaleidoscope of images swirled through his mind’s eye, showing humiliating, painful, degrading scenes from the footage he’d watched.

Even when Yugo was kind, his touch remained forceful and demanding.

Nothing like the reverent trepidation that guided Rick’s hand.

Kuon didn’t mind rough sex. He’d never expected excessive tenderness between men.

Bite marks and occasional bruises had never bothered him.

On a deep, primal level, they felt natural.

Men didn’t have to be tender or careful with each other.

Pain and adrenaline often heightened the sensations.

Roughness reassured Kuon that Yugo saw him not as a woman, but as a strong man who wouldn’t break easily.

This understanding helped him accept the receiving role in sex.

Then what about Mio? Kuon doubted anyone had ever been rough with him. He didn’t think Yugo saw his nephew as a woman either. He winced as his headache worsened.

Rick’s thumb stroked below his ear, but Kuon barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the wet gray tiles.

Yugo said they broke up. Was that a fat lie? Mio’s reaction was so vivid. No matter how good of an actor he is, he was shocked and hurt when he saw me.

Mio’s voice rang in his head with such clarity it felt like only a day had passed, not nearly three years. “He is seeking things he can’t get from me in others, and I resent it…”

I don’t get it… Was it the truth? I’m just a kink outlet? Kuon’s heart choked and started vomiting acrid pain, poisoning his blood with every beat. Or did Yugo bring Mio to teach me a lesson and show me I’m replaceable?

Kuon swallowed, trying to stop the nausea .

Why am I thinking about it? I’m not getting anywhere.

What does it matter? Why do I try to understand him?

He did it because he could, regardless of how Mio and I felt.

Maybe Rick is right, and love is worth sacrificing pride.

This… whatever this is, isn’t. I don’t want to be the only one left fundamentally crippled by this affliction.

Like a limb that had to be amputated to stop gangrene’s spread, Kuon wanted to sever his soul-decomposing feelings.

To cauterize the wound before his pride and dignity burned to ashes, or before he found himself on his knees, begging for Yugo’s attention. Whatever Yugo feels for me…

“…this can’t be love.” Kuon mouthed.

Rick’s face hardened. “Who gave you the right to decide that?”

Dazed and having lost track of their conversation, Kuon zeroed in on Rick.

“You have no idea how long I’ve had my eyes on you—right from the moment you entered the barracks.

It wasn’t love at first sight, far from it.

You were hard to like. Still, when I first saw your back, streaked with raised scars, I wanted to understand you, to protect you, even from yourself.

Especially from yourself. When I chanced upon you pleasuring yourself, biting your fist to keep from making a sound, I couldn’t look away.

For me, other men faded into the background.

I wanted to kiss you, make love to you, and hear those moans you refused to spill. ”

The black eyes trapped Kuon’s pupils, sucking his soul into the dark well of despair, while Rick poured out his emotions, drowning him. “Rick…”

“When I first saw your smile, your happiness became my goal. When you lost your sight, I wanted to be your eyes. God, even when you friend-zoned me, I wanted to fit into any role you gave me as long as I was in your life. What is it if not love?”

“Rick, stop. I can’t think straight. Postpone this conversation,” Kuon said, stumbling back.

“So you can pretend it never happened, like you always do?” Rick grasped his elbow. “No, Kuon. Hear me out now. Please, just once, look at me. Not as a friend, but as a man who loves you. Really look at me. What do you see?”

And Kuon did.

The edges of Rick’s eyes were red. His short, wet hair stuck to his forehead while water ran down his temples and hollow cheekbones, rippling over his strong jawline and streaming down from his square chin.

In his bloodless, bitten lips, set jaw, and unblinking gaze, Kuon read desperation, pain from countless rejections, and resentment at Kuon’s unwillingness to understand him. The brightest among them was the hope that Kuon would finally see what had eluded him all these years.

“You came to me, not Gray, not anyone else, in the middle of the night with feet bloody and eyes red. I would be happy for you if you were happy, but you are not. How can I possibly give up? No, Kuon. I’m asking again. Give me a chance, and I’ll do my best to help you forget him.”

Kuon stood still, gulping down the metallic taste that filled his mouth again. It was odd that blood, though liquid, could neither soothe his aching throat nor quench his thirst. It was even stranger how a fleeting promise of mental morphine tethered him to a place.

“I’ve always wondered, why do you never take me seriously? What am I lacking? Am I not good-looking? Not smart enough? Not loyal or patient? I did my research on him, and… I don’t understand. What does he have that I don’t? Or is it something he does? Then please, tell me, because… I feel stupid.”

Kuon also felt stupid because the more he thought about it, the less he understood himself.

Here was a person who truly loved him, confessing again and again despite knowing he’d be rejected.

Someone who had followed him into the raging fire, under a hail of bullets.

Who had waited for him for two years. Who, in a helpless desire to be noticed, had settled for the role of friend while Kuon once again lost himself in Yugo’s fucked-up world.

For what? He couldn’t answer, even if he tried.

The clear understanding that he had no place in Yugo’s life settled deep in his bones as he walked down the dark road, hoping the high beams would stab him in the back and that Yugo would stop him from leaving.

Yugo didn’t, and now Kuon found himself alone and lost once again. He needed to move on and never look back, to find something solid and real to anchor himself and start over. He was tired of the uncertainty, of not having a place in this life.

Rick… he was still there, despite everything.

He shared Kuon’s moral values, was loyal and kind.

He had more in common with Rick than with Yugo, yet he felt nothing but gratitude and friendship toward him.

Yugo was the epitome of all evil, yet Kuon wanted him.

Not because of anything, but in spite of everything. It was both ridiculous and sad. Stupid.

Ironically, deep down, Kuon was sure if Rick were a woman, he would at least think about this relationship.

Wasn’t that hypocritical? Sex with Yugo was the best he’d ever had, but maybe it was only good because Yugo didn’t leave him any room to think about it, to choose it.

Forced to do things he’d never do otherwise, Kuon enjoyed it.

Perhaps Kuon had never considered other men because, deep down, he clung to the version of himself that perished on Yugo’s footage—a confident, straight man with solid values, a future, and unbreakable principles.

Was it still him though? After all, it wasn’t Kristina’s name he called up in his mind while masturbating, but Yugo’s.

Did he want Yugo only because he wasn’t ready to admit he was attracted to men? Maybe it didn’t have to be Yugo at all, because why on earth would he choose him? A selfish, arrogant, sadistic bastard without any shame or moral values.

He’d never allowed himself to consider other men, so how would he know?

And he had to know, because being alone for the rest of his life, fantasizing about Yugo, would be really sad.

This time, there was no Afghanistan to distract him or help him quench his anger, and gosh, was he angry.

At himself, at Yugo, even at Rick for forcing him to think about it instead of letting him seek salvation in a dreamless sleep.

He gave Rick a haunted look.

Handsome, with clear skin, sincere eyes, and a strong jawline, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a bodybuilding magazine. There was nothing repulsive about his appearance or personality, and if Kuon wanted to explore his sexuality, he couldn’t find anyone better even if he searched.

Yes, he didn’t love Rick, but his obsession with Yugo hadn’t started romantically either, far from it.

Maybe, if he lifted this mental block and accepted he was into men, he could return Rick’s feelings one day.

Because right now, he wanted to care back.

He wanted to thank the only person who truly liked him despite everything.

Still, using Rick felt wrong. What if he really was into Yugo, and it wasn’t sex he needed to get him out of his system but a good therapy session?

He wished he had more time to think about it.

“Rick, it would be best if—”

“Tell me.”

Kuon shook his head in dismay. “Nothing. You lack nothing. It’s me, who—”

“Then try me.” Rick’s gaze bore into him as he slowly pulled Kuon’s elbow to draw him closer.

When warm lips covered his, Kuon held his breath, torn between the need to escape contact and sever all ties with Yugo by crossing a point of no return.

He bet that if he let Rick continue, nothing would ever be the same again; not for him, not for the Black Duke.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, alarming, but he couldn’t find a reason to terminate the kiss. Why would he? Yugo certainly didn’t refuse Mio’s advances.

As the memories of their kiss flooded his mind, he forced his jaw open, allowing Rick to explore the inside of his mouth. His eyes burned, as did his throat. The tiled wall drifted before his eyes as Rick gently switched places with him, pressing his back against the wet wall once again.