MERRY 54

It would be best for him to speak up voluntarily if he didn’t want to suffer the indignity of being imagined in a T-back. Of course, Somerset didn’t look like he had any intention of hiding it anyway.

“Black briefs. They have a snake pattern.”

Far from being embarrassed, he reached toward his lap as if to draw the snake, which was problematic.

“I’ll pass on the detailed information.”

Ethan looked down, trying to maintain his dignity as an intellectual. Unfortunately, the cheap magazine was waiting for him, fully prepared to undermine that dignity. From the very first sentence of the column that appeared after flipping past the suggestive ads, he found himself scowling.

“A sex bomb must have dropped on that party.”

Somerset, who had reflexively read it aloud, scratched his head.

“Should I go buy a different one?”

“It’s fine. Don’t go anywhere; stay here. Move a little closer.”

“Huh?”

“Block this so a passing kid can’t see the magazine.”

Ethan decided to make use of Somerset. He feigned ignorance of how Somerset’s pupils wavered wide and deep as the distance between them closed. Those amber eyes felt hotter than the sun he was shielding Ethan’s body from.

“You’re a good adult. Thinking of things like that. The future of children is brighter thanks to you.”

“A good adult doesn’t read this kind of magazine outdoors.”

“That’s true.”

At the moment he should have giggled, Somerset simply gave a blunt answer. Ethan glanced at him biting his lip but ignored that too and read the column. He grew disgusted by the way it described sex using various terms so explicitly.

He quickly grew sick of a magazine whose only principle was sales at any cost, yet it simultaneously piqued his curiosity. Seeing that there was a demand for this garbage made him feel like he was facing the problems of modern society head-on.

The following columns fabricated stories based on a few blurry photos. Ethan, who had been discarding the content—mostly speculation and slander—from his mind as soon as he read it, paused on a certain page and tilted his head. At that, the canopy Somerset had created wavered. Since he had been staring only at Ethan the whole time, his reaction was fast.

“Is there a problem? No kids are passing by right now.”

“Do you know someone named William Carter? Is he famous?”

Ethan, who was out of the loop regarding the entertainment industry and gossip, didn’t recognize the protagonist of the scandal the magazine was covering extensively. He was simply repulsed by the suspicion that a married man who hit on anyone regardless of age or gender might have reached out his predatory hands to a minor. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

Somerset nodded. It seemed William Carter was quite a successful actor. Ethan hoped the paparazzi, aiming for the man’s fame, were spreading false rumors. It was a thousand times better for the magazine’s credibility to hit rock bottom than for the claim of a child victim to be true. Not that it seemed the magazine had any lower to fall.

After serving as a test for Ethan’s morality, the column was ignored. He flipped roughly to the next page and read a tagline for a deodorant ad. He scoffed at the exaggerated claim that using this deodorant would make the opposite sex follow you, then suddenly looked up.

His gaze locked onto the man who would clearly always be the center of attention without the help of artificial scents. He was looking at Ethan, too. He probably had been this whole time.

If one were to put a thermometer to Somerset’s eyes, the result would be “unmeasurable.” They were so hot they would easily surpass the maximum limit.

Meeting those boiling eyes, Ethan found himself wondering. Just how beautiful do I look to you?

It was by no means a delusion or arrogance. Somerset looked at Ethan as if he were completely possessed. If he had been a little less “hot,” Ethan might have mistaken it for awe toward a god. That was how blind and desperate he was.

Ethan defined a portion of the emotion he felt from him as follows: the desire to know the other person to the point of dissection, the wish to be by their side as naturally as air, but the need to engrave one’s presence when in their line of sight. Possessiveness.

Eyes smoldering with possessiveness drew closer. Somerset had dropped his head in a subtle arc. I’ve been drawn to you. His movement seemed to say just that.

Ethan accepted him as he approached. Then, the incident occurred. Somerset’s lips touched his forehead. They were soft and firm. The breath that leaked narrowly through his trembling lips became a massive tidal wave, crashing over him.

It was shockingly fresh. The sensation of the contact, the trembling, and even Somerset’s reaction. Pulling his lips away, Somerset jumped up and gasped for air. He looked as out of breath as a track star crossing the finish line, yet he had only just stood at the starting blocks. The moment one foot left the ground, his body spun around.

Somerset, clutching his head, took off running. Without even brushing the grass off his pants, he ran fast, then faster.

It was a speed completely different from the people leisurely jogging. He far exceeded the memory of the rainy day they had run together. Soon after Somerset disappeared from view, Ethan covered his face with the cheap magazine.

“Pfft!”

He did it in advance because he knew a laugh was about to burst out. He didn’t want to show this face to just anyone. He hated that. You are the only exception.

“Somerset Quinn.”

He spoke the name with a smirking laugh. Just saying it was sweet. Like the alcohol he’d had earlier, and like his name, it must be the taste of excitement.

Ethan does not prefer physical contact with others. When skin touches, he becomes conscious of elements that are hard to control—like body heat, texture, and pulse—so he avoided it. Until now, there had been no one he wanted to touch despite such discomfort.

In the first place, far from identifying someone’s charm, he simply pushed away anyone who approached first, so it was difficult for feelings to develop unless it was love at first sight. His reproductive cravings were nothing more than a level he could keep on a leash, so he led a simple life.

The problem was a variable. A variable named Somerset. The charms overflowing from him. The kiss he had committed. And himself, unable to escape that kiss.

He felt like an immature boy overflowing with vigor. Though he had been a very wholesome and diligent student when he actually was a boy. Ethan was experiencing a late period of wandering. It was because Somerset was drawn in his mind whenever he closed his eyes. In particular, the black inverted triangle sitting boldly on his lower body disturbed his mind. At first, it was baffling, then it became troublesome, and finally, it made him let out a dry laugh.

“I’ve gone mad.”

Feeling like a stranger to his own reckless behavior, Ethan touched and retouched his forehead. To the point where he worried it might wear away. The next thing his hand went to was inside his pants. He kneaded his genitals wrapped in underwear, lifting and lowering his hips. It had only been a short while since he’d washed and thrown himself onto the bed. The moisture had vanished, and sweat began to bead slowly on his refreshed skin.

To him, masturbation was nothing more than a release. An act to prevent physiological abnormalities. He did it because it was necessary. That was why he maintained a lukewarm temperature even at the moment of climax. It was as if he were performing periodic maintenance on his body as if it were a machine. He didn’t hope for anything “human,” nor did the thought even occur to him.

But now…

“Haa.”

It was the first time his hot breath felt sticky. Ethan felt dizzy at the signals his burning body was spitting out. Beyond leaving his state of tranquility and entering an abnormal orbit, he was facing a heated confusion. The road back to his original state was distant. Coincidentally, or fortunately.

Ethan pulled down his slightly damp underwear and began to touch himself in earnest. Rubbing the glans gently with his thumb, he thought of Somerset’s hands.

Long fingers with thick joints. Wide palms. The veins twitching on the back of his hand. The feeling when he touched his hair. Then, his focus shifted to those solid arm muscles. Strong shoulders reminiscent of a swimmer, a thick, smooth neck, and a broad back.

He thought that healthy-looking bronze skin was like milk chocolate. A perfect blend of milk and chocolate. Just imagining the taste made his mouth water. Even though his mouth was wet, his thirst was extreme.

If humans had a mating season, this would be his. He couldn’t control the sexual desire prodding his senses. His erect penis twitched threateningly. Ethan felt a sense of strangeness at the club-like shape. Even that awkward feeling was quickly swallowed by the heat.

He stroked the sensitive skin up and down. As the friction repeated, both his body and his sexual pleasure swelled. It was distinctly different from the masturbation that usually accompanied fatigue and boredom as much as pleasure. It was much hotter and more immersive, and at the same time, his thoughts wouldn’t stop. Thoughts about Somerset Quinn.