Page 10

10

Aran

I take a long shower, working out some of the tension knots across my forehead and shoulders. I got them while waiting for Hex to come back from dinner. It was torture not being there with him, so as much as I don’t like his plan, if it works, it’s better than letting him go on his own where I can’t keep an eye on him.

Sigh . What I wouldn’t give for a massage. A day in which I can relax and not worry about Hex would do me wonders. It would have to wait until we’re safely back in Nagoya, but at least it gives me something to look forward to.

I grab the fluffy towel I hung over the metal rail by the sink and wipe my head and face. My hair has started to curl at the tips, so it’s probably time for a trim. I like it at shoulder-length, and I’ve kept it there since I remember, though now that I think about it, I don’t exactly recall why I did that.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I study my face. I used to keep my hair short while serving in the army, I remember that much, so whatever caused me to change that must have happened after I retired.

With a slight frown, I grab my electric shaver and go over my jaw and cheeks. I can’t exactly grow a beard, or keep a nicely maintained stubble like Kieran, so I prefer to stick to having no facial hair. I got my sharp jaw, straight nose and teeth from my father and my dark hair and eyes from my mother, ending up with the best features of both.

I examine myself after I’ve rinsed my face and place the towel on the counter. I’m not bad looking by any means. On top of that, even though I’ve entered my forties, the only thing I worry about is the occasional white hair, while my peers have either gone bald or chosen to use implants because of their receding hairlines. I do take care of my appearance and I like to think that I have a good sense of style. But the truth is that save for a failed attempt at a serious relationship in my late twenties and the very rare encounter with a paid escort after that, my intimacy with others is non-existent. Things just… never work out.

I’ve wondered about it. Is it because I’ve gotten older and my libido isn’t what it used to be? But even when I was younger, I didn’t exactly go out of my way to find a bed partner. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people I’ve slept with, and even then, it wasn’t like I was crazy about it. There was always something missing, like I was just going through the motions of sex without really feeling anything.

I hear noise from outside the bathroom, like furniture moving. My senses go alert and my skin bristles, expecting any moment now the fire alarm to sound or security to bust in. Hex was lounging in the massive bed when I left him, but god knows what insane idea he’s come up with in the twenty minutes I’ve been here.

Despite the headache it will probably cause me, I smile. Saengtien Thanan is a force of nature, just like his father. He’s unpredictable, a little impulsive, a bit absentminded and dense when it comes to reading the room. But he’s also kind and caring, always ready to help the people closest to him. There aren’t many of them, but they have grown in number in the past year, where before it was just me.

It makes me happy—he deserves to be surrounded by friends. But I’d lie if I said joy is the only feeling I have. A pang of sadness spears my heart every time I’m reminded of the fact that I’m no longer the only person who knows how lovely a young man Hex truly is. I should get over it, and I have tried, but that nagging sensation in my gut just won’t go away.

I squeeze the edges of the sink and lock my gaze on the pristine white marble as the want to monopolize him raises within me, rearing its ugly head. Such urges have no place living inside me. Hex isn’t mine, he could never be, yet sometimes part of me wishes otherwise. We’ve been together for so long that I don’t know what I’ll do with myself when the day that he leaves me arrives.

Dread fills my stomach even as I tell myself it’s the inevitable and right thing to happen. My role as his guardian will eventually come to an end. He hasn’t really needed me for a long time—he gets by just fine on his own—but I always find an excuse not to let him go. At this point, I’m doing it for me more so than for him, because I need to be by his side.

I am a moth, and he is the light I cling to. My light. I’ve seen him sad, happy, lost, hurt, confused, clueless, frustrated, excited. He shines, no matter which emotion takes over, a heavenly being who bathes my barren heart in vicious warmth that threatens to burn me alive.

Swallowing hard, I glance lower in the mirror. My cock is no longer flaccid. Guilt and excitement battle inside me as I grasp it with one hand, sending conflicting signals to my brain.

Why does this happen every time I let my guard down? Every time thoughts of Hex take over my mind?

I coil my fingers and slide them up and down my shaft. It’s hot and hard, the sensation shooting tiny sparks across my entire body. It’s been a while since I last had sex, probably too long. I’ve tried, but I can never get in the mood.

Unless I slip up and let Hex invade my brain.

Grunting, I quicken my pace. This is wrong, but I’m too far gone. My body needs the release so I can face the man on the other side of this door without losing my mind and doing something I will forever regret the moment I see him.

I cannot have him, I knew that the moment I vowed to his father that I’d keep him safe.

But sometimes… Sometimes I wish I’d never made such a promise.

As soon as I enter the dark bedroom, I know something is wrong. The couch that I sleep on, which stretches the wall just immediately to the left of the door, is gone. The curtains are closed. It’s like I’ve walked into the lair of my greatest enemy where all that awaits me are traps and deadly riddles.

I never liked riddles.

Carefully, I approach the bed where a vaguely human-like shape lies hidden under the covers.

“Tien—”

Something crashes into my side, toppling me onto the bed. I fall on my back atop the human-like shape, realizing as my hand clasps the silky fabric and pulls on it, that what I assumed to be Hex pretending to be asleep is a stack of pillows.

A deep inhale close to my ear as my wrists are pinned above my head jumbles my mind. “What took you so long, Aran?” Another inhale follows, this one accompanied by a soft groan. “Holy shit, you smell so fucking nice it makes me wanna eat you up. Say, were you thinking about me and maybe touching yourself in the bathroom? Is that why it took you seven minutes and thirty-four seconds longer than usual to come out?”

Heavens have mercy. Does he time these things? Someone please save me from this charming menace before he becomes the end of me.

Luckily, my spent cock is too satiated to care that I’m being called out. If I was ten years younger, things would be very different I imagine, so in this very moment, I take our age gap as a blessing.

“What are you doing?” I grind out, channeling the uncalled-for-frustration that my earlier thoughts infected me with.

He wiggles around and straddles one of my legs, tightening the hold he has on my wrists. “Isn’t it obvious? I am trying to seduce you and have my way with you on this enormous bed?”

The grin he shoots me is anything but seducing. Coupled with the lacy headband with cat ears he’s put on, all I see is a brat that needs me to spank some sense into him. I’d wager he was going for something else—like tempting me into devouring him whole—but taking care of my body’s arousal before walking in has foiled his plans.

I’m glad for that, because as goofy and silly as his getup is, Hex is a hard man to resist.

For a minute, I let him have his way. He gets comfortable on top of me, shamelessly canting his hips as he threatens me with the best time of my life. His erection brushes against my thigh, stirring heat within me that grows with every passing second. It feels so damn good, so right, and so very wrong.

I can’t take it.

I want more.

But I must stop, even though something seems to settle between us as we stare at each other.

Another ten excruciating seconds and I’ve humored him enough. With practiced accuracy, I turn my hands with the palms up and grab his, rolling him over in one fell swoop so he ends up pinned under me. His eyes shine with surprise and want as we lock gazes, and his breathing catches. My own harsh inhales echo in the quiet room, patchy and agitated.

“Wow. I love when you manhandle me. Now, can we make out, please? And then can I blow you? I bet your dick will feel amazing in my mouth.”

Ah, he’ll never cease to amaze me. I’ve never told him—and never will—that I love and hate how he doesn’t have any filter. How he doesn’t feel like he needs one when he’s with me. It tickles my self-confidence in the best way.

“Go to sleep, Tien,” I say with a sigh, using the hand that isn’t holding him down to stroke his hair. His blue hair, my brain dutifully reminds me, just like my favorite color. “It’s been a long day. We both need rest.”

He nods enthusiastically. “Exactly. But, ah , there was an accident, so the couch is a no-go. You need to sleep here on the bed with me. Also, you have my full permission to take advantage of me in my sleep. In fact, please do, I’ve always dreamed about being woken up with sex.”

I glance back and notice the dismantled piece of furniture lying in the corner. So that’s the noise I kept hearing. The little shit was taking the couch apart. As I turn back to Hex, I shake my head and showcase my best scowl. “There is a second couch in the lounge. I will sleep there. Make sure your alarms are off if you intend not to hear them. I will wake you up when it’s time to head out.”

I make to stand, but he latches onto my shirt’s sleeve. He looks like he’ll beg me to stay and give him what he wants, and I have no idea how I’ll refuse his puppy eyes. “But I need those alarms! You know it’s part of my morning ritual.”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say, staring at him like a wide-eyed doe. Then I blow air out of my nose in an ungentlemanly fashion and chuckle at his ridiculousness. He’s not wrong, though. Since he decided to convert to a normal daily routine, which begins in the actual morning and not at midday, he set up a sequence of ten alarms, the first of which goes off at seven thirty a.m.

“You don’t need all of them. Three should be sufficient.” I reach for his phone that’s been tossed on the nightstand, but he swats my hand away.

“No. The first two are to tell me it’s time to start waking up.” He raises a finger to count each of them. Then he adds a third. “The third is a contingency in case I miss them. The fourth is to signal to my brain that I have one hour of lounging in bed left. The fifth is to tell me I have fifteen minutes left to the thirty-minute mark. Sixth one…” He curls his lips, slipping into a moment of deep thinking. “Ah, yes. That one is an extra, two minutes before the seventh, which is at the half hour mark. The eighth and ninth alarms are at fifteen and ten minutes before I have to get up, so I can be fully ready for the tenth one, which is when I actually need to get up. This way, my brain has enough notice, so it can prepare itself.”

My head hurts just listening to that. Instead of getting up ten or fifteen minutes after the first alarm, like people normally do, he has this whole system set up. And most of the time, I still end up calling him at nine because he’s dozed off part way while getting up from bed.

I deem it’s pointless to argue as he launches into the supporting arguments for his decision to have so many alarms. As silly as it may be, I find it endearing. It’s one of his quirks, and I am the only person who knows about it.

“Fine,” I give in, shaking him off and straightening the cuff of my sleeve. “But this time around, you will get up without me having to drag your protesting ass out of bed.”

He sits up, smiles at me sweetly, and places his hand on his heart. “I promise. I will get up after my tenth alarm and you won’t have to lift even a finger. I’ll even make you coffee.”

Crossing my arms, I watch him pull the blanket up the bed and get comfortable under it. He won’t keep his word, I just know it. But it’s not because he doesn’t want to—Hex is just that bad with early mornings—so I guess I will have no choice but to let it slide this time as well.