MERRY 55

‘There must have been a sex bomb dropped on that party.’

The memory of his voice reading that trashy line from the magazine surfaces. Sex. The way he pronounced it felt particularly provocative. Or maybe it just sounded that way to my ears.

‘The New York sunset is pretty decent too, isn’t it?’

I remember the gaze he dropped into his cocktail glass. I wonder what it would have tasted like to lick that sunset-like look with my tongue. I might have been too scorched by the heat to even taste it.

Ethan licked his lower lip with a tongue that felt warmed by imagination alone. Somerset’s lips, which had touched his forehead, had been even warmer.

I want to feel your body heat more. I want to be the object of your desire. Actually, I think I already am. Please don’t tell me I’m not.

Strength naturally builds in the hand gripping his member. Usually, his arousal rose lukewarmly, requiring him to shake and rub for so long it felt like an arm workout, but not today. Just touching it made him excited; he was merely tracing the glans with his fingertips, yet the sensation felt sticky and persistent. The climax was not far off.

Lecherously, he ejaculated while imagining how elastic Somerset’s chest would be. A thick, milky-white fluid spilled down. Ethan started to stroke his face out of habit but stopped, conscious of his damp palm. His hand moved back down. One eruption wasn’t enough; he masturbated again while still wet.

After having this time to himself, it became even clearer. He wanted Somerset. And intensely so. One would have to be a fool not to know.

He regretted not exchanging phone numbers with Somerset. He wanted to call him and say it quickly. No, it would be better to do it face-to-face. Should he call him out? Is it rude to visit his house in the middle of the night? Ethan felt a sense of longing as he looked out at the falling dusk.

After settling his impatience, he washed his damp body and lay back on the bed to calmly organize his thoughts. He placed Somerset at the center and let branches spread out in every direction.

However, no matter what or how he thought, Somerset would intrude with a charming smile and scatter his focus. He tried repeatedly to force negative thoughts, but he still couldn’t avoid him. Every branch of thought pulled back toward the center. Somerset. He was the starting point and the conclusion.

He couldn’t sleep all night. It was because Somerset wouldn’t let him go. He kept thinking about him so much that it felt as if the man were right beside him. He traversed the past, present, and future, retracing memories or opening new territories through imagination. Thanks to the man who was vibrant anytime and anywhere keeping his consciousness sharp, there was no room for fatigue.

As soon as day broke, he got out of bed and hurried to prepare to go out. Standing before the mirror, facing himself checking his hair and the fit of his clothes, he realized: this had been happening a lot lately. He was like this every time he went to see Somerset.

He knows now why he’s doing this, and what has made him this way. It’s that emotion surging inside his chest just at the thought of him.

Ethan was skeptical of human relationships, but ironically, he believed in the emotions that pass between people—especially the emotion of love. Because he knew those who risked everything to find a new life for the sake of it.

“Honey, you look tired. Are you okay?”

As Serena asked in a soft tone and reached out, Henry hunched his large frame and tucked himself right into her arms.

“Just one minute like this with you and I’ll be fully recharged.”

“Will one minute be enough?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to test it out.”

Standing on the landing, Ethan waited for the two’s excessively sweet display of affection to end. Soon, Henry’s phone vibrated. Emerging from Serena’s arms, he checked the caller and grimaced.

“The timing is never good.”

His voice turned cold, as if he’d swapped out his vocal cords. Heading toward the study while answering the phone, he spotted Ethan and curled his lips into a smile. Ethan responded to his wave with a nod and finished walking down the stairs.

“Ethan. Did you sleep well?”

Serena handed him a coffee along with a morning greeting. When he declined, saying he was going out, she pulled the mug back while casually mentioning:

“You’ve been going out a lot lately. Are you spending your break like a real vacation?”

Her gentle voice followed Ethan.

“From what I checked before we moved, there don’t seem to be any problematic neighbors. So feel free to move about comfortably. Especially the Quinns living right next door…”

“Investigating like that is, well, not very typical.”

Ethan drew a line against her interference. It was unusual for him to raise an objection to Henry and Serena’s expressions of affection, which were accompanied by excessive protection. Sure enough, Serena faltered. If one dug even slightly into their methods, they were bound to come close to a past buried deep down. They likely didn’t want to break the “not-quite-a-secret” that had been maintained because Ethan had turned a blind eye.

“It’s only because I want you to be careful. The world is grimmer than it looks.”

“I know it’s not out of bad intentions. That’s why I’m saying, if you’re curious about who I’m getting close to, just… ask me. Don’t watch me secretly or investigate.”

Given her personality, she had likely already thoroughly scouted what kind of person Somerset Quinn was and what his family was like.

“Ah, well, all right.”

While Serena smoothed over the situation with a smile, Henry came out of the study, caught Ethan, and asked:

“Have you ever felt someone talking to you or following you?”

The timing was bad. Serena gave him a small shake of her head.

“Honey, drink your coffee. It’s going to get cold.”

“But…”

“Henry Reed.”

At the mention of his full name, Henry went to her like a faithful hound. Ethan left the house, seen off by the two of them standing side by side with their mugs.

The conversation with them had already flown far away, and his mind was full of one person again. Somerset. The fact that he immediately sensed his gaze looking out the window was for that very reason. All his nerves were focused entirely on him.

Though he felt like running to him, he tried hard not to rush. He couldn’t help the fact that the surging in his chest grew louder as he regulated his walking pace.

It was the first time he had visited the Quinn house without an invitation. Fortunately, the familiar servant, Emma, greeted him, allowing him to head inside without difficulty.

With every step he climbed toward Somerset’s room, his heat rose further. Could he really keep a composed face in front of him? He hoped he could, at least while they were talking.

In contrast to how intensely he had thought of him, it was still undecided what he would actually do when they met. It was only when Ethan reached the door that he hurriedly scrambled to set a plan. Even if Somerset tries to run, I can’t let him get away this time. But let’s not corner him or press him too hastily. Hugging him out of the blue isn’t a great idea either. I should approach him as calmly as possible.

Of course, it all became useless the moment he laid eyes on him. The desire to touch bubbled up, staining his thoughts with the color of passion. Once he became conscious of it, there was no end. I want to touch him. I want to know his body heat, his texture, and his pulse. I want to feel it all. Even if it means Somerset finds out about my own.

The walls surrounding him had crumbled before he knew it. Even the oblivion he had adopted to erase bad memories had broken. Raw emotions twitched. The upheaval echoed through his whole body, making it a struggle to keep it contained inside anymore.

He is lovely. So, so lovely. Ethan stared as if possessed at Somerset, who was acting fidgety and unable to meet his eyes. His fine-textured hair swayed as he bowed his head.

“I didn’t come here just to look at the top of your head.”

He spoke in a calm tone, but inside, longing had taken a concrete shape and was running wild. Soon, the gaze that met his own sent a tingle from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

“Did you sleep well? Have you reflected?”

The mistake worth reflecting on wasn’t the kiss he’d given so boldly. It was a challenge against the passivity of running away and staying silent until the other person came to find him.

When he had touched Ethan’s hair under the ruse of removing a leaf, Somerset was the one who appeared before Ethan first the next day. Why is he trying to hide today? Was he crazy for finding such behavior pleasing?

Laughter bubbles up at the fact that there is no turning back, and that your feelings and mine have deepened.

Yesterday, when Somerset said he’d had no choice but to kiss him because it felt like destiny, Ethan almost stopped his mouth prematurely. With his own lips. Ethan narrowly resisted the same destiny that had befallen Somerset. But his rebellion was broken before long.