Chapter 24 - Sleeping King

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Chapter 24

 

 

The more he tasted the nectar spilling from Fisé's body, the more he longed to uncover that final, forbidden place.

 

Even though Fisé's form was mature, his lower abdomen and sex were untouched by even the finest down, smooth and pure. Aurelian pressed one last kiss there before lifting his leg by the back of the knee.

 

"…Uh…"

 

Though his hidden place was left exposed, bathed in moonlight and the golden glow of the hearth, Fisé released the tension from his limbs and lay pliant—like a doll with joints, moved only by gentle hands.

 

Still, his knees trembled. His toes curled.

 

But it was clear he had made up his mind to keep pretending—to let the night unfold without protest, without acknowledgment.

 

He didn't yet have the courage to be an active part of this new bond between them… and yet, to allow himself to be held this way—without resistance—meant he had accepted something, at least in part.

 

"Kh… ngh…"

 

Aurelian pressed his face between the twin curves he held aloft.

 

Even here, the skin was like that of a child—soft, fair, and flushed with the faintest pink, as though kissed by peach blossoms.

 

The hidden bud between them trembled faintly, but when touched by his tongue, it yielded—responding with quiet, decadent pleasure.

 

It was nothing like what one might expect from a human male.

 

Though he bore the form of a man, Fisé's entrance released a nectar that was thick and golden, rich with the scent of roses—honeyed and fragrant, like liquified silk.

 

It resembled rose oil, too, sliding slowly down his backside.

 

The purpose of that luscious nectar was clear, even without study or instruction.

 

When Aurelian pressed a finger to the entrance, it slid inside with graceful ease.

 

He had feared this impossibly tight place would never accept him—but Fisé had given him the answer. That gently clinging, slowly widening entrance wrapped around his finger and urged it deeper. Just like his chest, it wanted to be touched more. Inside and out, Fisé's hole twitched and pulsed, growing wetter still—pouring forth nectar that left no doubt as to its purpose.

 

It was not merely a part of his body. It was a sex. Though male, though he could not bear children—this was still undeniably his sex.

 

Aurelian adored that lewd hole—an orifice that had evolved to accept another male and indulge in pleasure.

 

"Ng… ah…"

 

Fisé clenched his teeth, clearly fighting to keep any sound from escaping.

 

But who had made him so sensitive, so responsive? The thought burned in Aurelian's chest like jealousy and regret.

 

The more love he felt, the more tightly he wished to hold him, to claim him. The gentle touches weren't enough anymore.

 

He had once believed that simply holding Fisé would be enough.

 

That thought now felt like a lie.

 

He was doing what he had once only dreamed of—and still, it wasn't enough. Even if Fisé were to resist now, Aurelian doubted he could stop himself.

 

"Fisé… Fisé… may I… put it in?"

 

He asked a question he knew had no meaning—and gathered Fisé's legs into his arms.

 

With one hand, he loosened the fastenings of his trousers—strings and buttons strained from desire—and finally freed what ached so painfully inside him.

 

It struck against his abdomen with a throb and a pulse, reaching defiantly upward as if it too were hungry for their union.

 

It felt like every beat of his heart had scattered throughout his body, ringing out like war drums.

 

"…Fisé."

 

He called his name, again and again—but Fisé gave no answer. Only clutched the sheets tighter in his fists.

 

He lowered his hips to align their bodies—and as his length pressed against the blushing entrance, Fisé's legs tensed.

 

Aurelian's own body, too, had begun to secrete fluid—an instinctive preparation for their union—and it trickled down, mingling with the nectar already coating that delicate pink opening.

 

When he rubbed his tip against it, it parted like a blooming flower—soft and slick, and already answering his desire.

 

Their bodies wanted this. There was no denying it. That gently pulsing opening clung to him, beckoning, as if whispering, Hurry. Now.

 

"…Nnh… Fisé…"

 

"Ah… ngh…"

 

With slow, burning friction, he began to push inside.

 

The way Fisé clamped down—tight and wet and unbearably sweet—was a kind of ecstasy Aurelian had never known.

 

"Fisé… I'm sorry… I wanted this… when you were awake…"

 

He knew. He knew Fisé was awake. And more than anything, he had wanted them to face each other, hand in hand, heart to heart—wanted Fisé to look into his eyes, call his name, and hold him close.

 

That had been his true wish.

 

But the bliss flooding through him now—the feeling of being devoured, body and soul—was no less real.

 

He couldn't stop.

 

"Fisé… ah…"

 

"Ngh… hhn…"

 

He wanted to go deeper—far deeper than any other man had reached.

 

If another had taken him a hundred times, he would take him a thousand.

 

He would etch himself into Fisé's body—until there was no space left for anyone else.

 

He wanted to reach places untouched, to plant seeds that would never bear fruit, and yet still bloom—wanted to rewrite every trace that remained of the man who had once been here.

 

So completely that Fisé would never remember his name again.

 

"Ah… ha…"

 

"Nngh… ah… aah!"

 

With one deep thrust, Aurelian reached the furthest point within—and Fisé arched, his throat exposed to the night.

 

He had been breathing heavily before, releasing sighs and sweet gasps, but now his voice cracked the air, drawn out and aching.

 

"Fisé…!"

 

Hoping this would finally coax his eyes open, Aurelian pulled him close again.

 

But the joy of discovering this hidden, sacred place—of being inside the one he loved—scattered his focus completely.

 

He wanted to see him—wanted to thrust deeper. Wanted everything.

 

He couldn't hold back.

 

Maybe he should've learned how to please someone first—perhaps all those offers to "practice" with more experienced partners had merit after all.

 

Yet even in his clumsiness, he was glad it was Fisé who received everything—his desire, his inexperience, his trembling, messy love.

 

"Ah—ah…"

 

"Hah… ngh!"

 

Driven by the desire to go even deeper, Aurelian let his full weight bear down, pulling Fisé into his arms.

 

The slick inner walls gripped him with maddening intensity, flooded with heat and honey.

 

But the pleasure didn't reside only in their connection.

 

It was in the hands he gripped Fisé with, the voice he heard crying beneath him, the body so dazzling it left him breathless—and the intoxicating scent of roses that bloomed higher with every thrust, until he could think no longer.

 

"Fisé… please… take all of me… all of who I am…"

 

He wanted to say I love you.

 

He wanted to tell him how miraculous it felt to be held like this—to be one with him. That it felt like heaven, like flying.

 

He wanted to whisper it again and again: I love you.

 

"…Ah…"

 

But words and thoughts were swallowed by the rising wave of ecstasy.

 

His whole body convulsed with a powerful throb—he was no longer himself. The pleasure shattered him.

 

"Fah… ahhh…!"

 

Fisé's body, too, shuddered violently—his release splattered across the black fabric he still wore. His bare chest, his throat—everything was quickly stained with pearlescent traces.

 

And the moment Aurelian saw it—saw that proof of their union—his world turned to white.

 

It was like being struck by a blinding light—an ecstasy so fierce it nearly made him faint.

 

It was a world he had never known.

 

He wanted to return to Fisé's side, but his soul was still adrift, still floating.

 

He fought his way back—held his spirit down like a weight—clinging to the moment, unwilling to be pulled away.

 

"Fisé…"

 

And when he finally returned—when breath and thought returned to him—Fisé's eyes were open.

 

Those black eyes looked up at him, gazing at Aurelian as he poured himself into him.

 

His lips, still parted and glistening, trembled.

 

"…Aurelian Samuel Twydal."

 

Only one phrase—but he had spoken it.

 

Spoken his full name.

 

Fisé did not look sleepy. Nor surprised. He was not smiling, nor was he angry. His expression was nearly blank as he stared back—unmoving, unblinking.

 

Not glaring. Simply… seeing.

 

It was as if he were trying to etch the reality of this into himself, again and again. This is the man who holds me. This is the man whose name I must remember.

 

"Fisé, I… Aurelian Samuel Twydal… I love you."

 

I am myself. No one else. He wanted Fisé to feel that truth.

 

He wanted him to trust that it was safe to fall.

 

"Fisé… my Rose King."

 

He sank deeper into their bond, and saw those dark eyes begin to shimmer.

 

Fisé said nothing. He simply closed his eyes.

 

Aurelian gently kissed away the rose-scented tears that trailed down his temple.

 

When Fisé's hand finally moved—hesitant, trembling—to rest against Aurelian's back, he, too, could no longer hold back the tears in his eyes.

 

 

 

 

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