ORCA 87

Orca, buried near Niah’s shoulder, was swept up in the frustration of not having his appetite satisfied. He was slightly displeased by the goldfish squirming against him, but he let it be; he merely hugged his hips a bit tighter. His mouth felt empty. Instead, he filled every corner of his lungs with Niah’s scent. He burrowed deeper into Niah’s embrace. He inhaled slowly, letting the goldfish drift into his hollow stomach. The goldfish was too small and frail to ever satisfy his hunger. His thirst was not quenched. On the contrary, his appetite had returned, making him suffer even more. He felt the impulse to bite and tear at anything, but he stubbornly suppressed it.

The dim dressing room was filled with the sound of Niah gasping to catch his breath and the damp, gloomy desires of Orca.

Niah walked back to his room in a daze. He changed out of his clothes like a broken marionette doll. Stumbling as if his body were not his own, he fumbled and tripped several times. After staggering for a while, he barely managed to change into his pajamas. He buttoned them in a mess, but he didn’t notice. He simply lay on his bed with a blank expression.

Although he was ready for sleep, it wouldn’t come. His mind was a jumble of tangled thoughts, yet at the same time, he felt like he couldn’t think of anything at all. He couldn’t distinguish if his mind was empty or completely full. He felt faint, yet wide awake. The memory of moments ago rose vividly, only to blur like it was shrouded in fog.

Niah curled his body up, wrapped tightly in his blankets and duvet. He sniffed the shirt he was hugging, intoxicating himself once again with the scent he had been reveling in just moments before. Suddenly, a fever took hold of him. It felt as if he had been exposed all day to the intense sunlight beating down on a mountaintop on a hot summer day.

He felt a wave of dizziness, as if he were about to faint at any second. The sensation lingering on his fingertips proved what kind of things he had been doing. His skin throbbed rhythmically, as if his heart had migrated to various parts of his body. His breathing grew rough once again.

He shut his eyes quickly. He had intended to forget, but the image formed behind his eyelids as if it had been waiting. The young master’s magnificent face, reflected in the soft lighting, seemed as real as life. The lips he had looked at in such detail approached and parted. The teasing whisper about him secretly having strange thoughts again played in his ears.

The sticky, wet sounds repeated in his ears the entire time. Feeling restless for some reason, he pulled his knees in tight. His tailbone ached. His abdomen was taut with tension.

He tried to force his mind blank. He pushed the embarrassing memories far away. Struggling because it wasn’t easy, Niah thought of the goldfish in the greenhouse pond. He created a new pond in his mind and let them swim there. Since he saw them every day, it wasn’t hard to imagine them.

A goldfish hidden by waterweed, a goldfish lying on water plants, a goldfish swimming splash, splash…. As he pieced together the images of a dozen or so goldfish opening their mouths and gasping for air whenever they saw him, he felt a bit more at ease. His stiff shoulders finally relaxed.

Until he fell asleep, Niah imagined feeding the goldfish. He was quite desperate to leave no room for Orca in his thoughts. Despite such efforts, his chest tightened suddenly, and he tossed and turned for a while, unable to sleep. Whether by luck or misfortune, the surroundings were pitch black, leaving him no time to be afraid. He wasn’t even afraid of having nightmares. It was just that he fell asleep later than usual, and the morning arrived all too quickly.

Niah woke up with a start, gasping. Seeing the square of light entering through the crack in the door, it seemed it was already morning. Usually, he would have jumped up and hurried to prepare to go to Orca, but today he couldn’t. He blinked blankly.

As soon as he managed to clear his head, he fumbled over his clothes to check between his thighs. He didn’t dare to touch himself directly, so he hovered around the area nervously. His hand, passing over his lower abdomen and lightly touching his manhood, was cautious. His eyes immediately crinkled in distress. The front of his pants was bulging stiffly.

Niah’s sex drive was on the average side. Every so often, he would get ‘that’ feeling. Since this was just a simple instinct, Niah would busily fiddle with himself to relieve the sudden heat that visited him from time to time.

Though he would be a bit flushed and excited, he never felt particularly interested in it. Having little experience, it was merely an act for the purpose of making himself feel comfortable. Sometimes, he would even stop without ejaculating. However, he was embarrassed to do it openly, so he always squirmed under his blankets. Hiding under the quilt, Niah would rub softly until the bulge subsided, then let out a deep sigh.

It was the same even after Orca returned. Occasionally, he would get ‘that’ feeling. It was usually at dawn or sometimes at night. Niah found it quite annoying. Unable to just leave it be, he would shove his hand in. There was no sincerity to be found in the slow, dragging motion of his hand as he gripped and shook his erect member until it felt better.

Until now, masturbation had never held any special meaning for Niah. It was just one of the things that happened to bother him occasionally. His erratic mood would swing, and he would end up feeling melancholic at the end. Cleaning up the sticky fluid that dampened his palm was also a hassle.

Therefore, the natural sequence of events was to resolve it roughly and go down to the basement bathroom. He had to finish it quickly, wash up fast, and go to the young master. He had to serve his bath, prepare his pre-meal tea, and there were many other things to do. But instead of resolving it, he hesitated to even touch himself. It was clearly his own body, yet for some reason, it felt like someone else’s.

Niah, having touched the top of his pants for just a brief moment, pulled his hand away and grabbed the hem of his clothes. He waited, thinking it might settle if he stayed still, but for some reason, it became stiffer and stiffer, turning painful. This was the first time this had ever happened.

This was all because he had such a dream. This must surely be a punishment bestowed upon him. Because he had made such a strange request to the young master yesterday and hadn’t listened to Harriet, an angel must have punished him. He wondered if he was being scolded because he had made too many wishes.

Niah pulled the blanket up gingerly so that his fully erect member wouldn’t chafe against his underwear. He buried his face in the shirt and cried almost like a child. The darkness pressing down on the room grew thicker beneath the blanket.

At some point, his quickened breathing leaked out through his lips. Below, he was swollen to the point of bursting and couldn’t handle it anymore. He felt worried, wondering what he would do if he held it in and it really burst. The scent that had permeated the shirt and blanket given to him by Orca grew stronger the more he breathed. Niah squirmed and shifted his hips, rubbing against them as if throwing a tantrum. His stacked feet wiggled.

“Young masteeeer….”

The young master he met in his dream was exactly like the real one. He was just as big, hard, handsome, kind, and just looking at him made Niah smile, the corners of his mouth curling up. However, there was one hugely different point. This part was important.

The young master, that is, the young master in his dream, did… did… something to him. That is to say, in his dream, the young master kissed him. It was a long, delicate kiss. It was as vivid as if it were reality. The most important thing was the fact that the person the young master was kissing was him.

The touch of the hand brushing his cheek and gripping the back of his neck was familiar. The body temperature he felt and the grip strength were all exactly as they were in reality. The soft, firm touch of those lips pressed against his own. Sometimes they pressed firmly, and sometimes they rubbed softly.

The breaths that mingled as they repeatedly touched and pulled away were scorching. The slippery tongue held hot breath and blew it into him. His mouth, which was being thoroughly explored, felt hot. The tongue tasted sweet. It was so sweet that it felt like he was shrinking. If one were to gulp down mountain cherry honey by the bottle, it would surely taste just like this.

Things he had never done before happened naturally. He gripped the young master, hugged him, and clung to him. He pulled at the shirt he was clutching, begging for more. He lifted his heels and pressed himself against his chest. Even when he just hung limp, those large hands supported his back and restrained him even more tightly the more he struggled.

His chest felt full to bursting. Even though he knew it was a dream, the pit of his stomach throbbed. He wondered if he had been born with two hearts. Otherwise, he couldn’t explain why it was pounding so violently.

Niah, who was aimlessly mulling over his lips, scratched the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. It was so clearly different from the dream that he felt disappointed. He felt so embarrassed by his disappointment that his cheeks turned bright red.