ORCA 96

Niah fortunately did not wake up at his master’s small curse. Orca slowly licked upward over the bite marks. His tongue also brushed against Niah’s slightly parted lips. He blew a gentle breath onto the swollen, wounded lips. He felt annoyed, wondering how many days it would take for these to heal.

He admired the blank face of his servant, who was still asleep in the same position as before. As he kept watching him, he somehow found himself becoming stiff again. Feeling a strange sense of guilt for his own shameless behavior, Orca moved his hand. A rare sense of shame crystallized at the sight of himself—shaking his cock while his servant, who was fast asleep and breathing steadily, lay beneath him. This was even after he had kept him from doing his work because he was too tired, and forced him to ejaculate until he fainted.

The goldfish was physically weak, even without needing to be compared to himself. Although he worked well enough while scurrying around, he would soon become breathless and exhausted. He tried not to show it, but it wasn’t easily hidden. It was only natural.

Therefore, the fact that a voice saying “I’m tired” had come from the mouth of someone who repeated “I’m fine” like a parrot meant he had been pushed to the absolute limit. Knowing that, he was the shameless one who hadn’t let him go, and had even gone so far as to give him ridiculous orders after cajoling him.

Whenever the goldfish tried to crouch down and rest for a moment during his daily routine, he would scramble in a panic if their eyes met. He would be startled and quickly look for work to do. Even when told to come and rest, he wouldn’t listen and would shake his head. He didn’t need to be told to know how he had spent his time in the mansion when he wasn’t around.

Why were you born so small and weak? Why are you so thin and soft?

He felt displeased, thinking that such things must be innate. He hadn’t been able to do anything yet, but since the other had already collapsed from exhaustion on his own, he was the only one left looking like a shameless human being who didn’t know the meaning of decency. Tsk, he clicked his tongue and pressed his lips onto the spot where he had bitten him.

The voice that pronounced “Niah” was soft and affectionate. He called out “Niah, Niah,” and in the end, ground his molars together. A suppressed moan of “Ugh” leaked out. The surface of his flat stomach had become damp with milky fluids.

Orca heaved a ragged breath. After licking and sucking at the red marks that had risen in the shape of his own teeth, he rose to his feet at the small, restless stirring of Niah’s body, which seemed to be complaining.

He looked down at Niah from his elevated height. He liked the sight of him, infinitely disheveled and defenseless before him. It was a pleasant sight to see him sleeping with his naked body fully exposed, without a single shred of wariness. It was closer to being fainted, but regardless, the fact that he was clinging to him the whole time instead of being afraid, excited by his touch, kissing him continuously, and finally falling asleep in his room, in a place where he could see him, felt like a pleasure that was double the exhilaration of ejaculation. The red mark beneath the shirt collar felt like a mark of ownership, as if he were his. A dizzying chill ran through him.

Ah… I’m glad I didn’t kill you back then. I’m glad you didn’t die.

Orca recalled the first time he had pulled Niah out of the lake. He remembered himself, not caring whether the flopping goldfish lived or died, leaving his shivering, naked body exposed to the cold wind. He thought of the late night in the forest, when Niah had followed him, unable to even wear his shoes properly, only to eventually faint. He looked back on the mistake of throwing him carelessly into the basement hall, simply watching him get beaten by others, and only after making him sob his heart out did he urge him to beg for his life.

He felt that version of himself was garbage that couldn’t even be disposed of. He seemed lower than a pebble rolling on the ground. Perhaps it would be better to kill that bastard without Niah knowing. And then, would he be punished too? He imagined what kind of punishment his goldfish would give him before bowing his back again.

He looked down at Niah and touched his thighs. His pretty face was completely relaxed and innocent. He had the illusion that he smelled like a faint sweetness, like a pudding made of milk. No, was it an illusion? Orca tasted Niah’s round cheek with a lick. Then, he blew another gentle breath onto his torn lips. His hand dug into the sensitive inner flesh.

Niah, who had squirmed as if to curl his legs up because it tickled, soon gave up. His master’s large body was occupying all the space between his legs, making it impossible to move. It just looked like he was thrashing about pointlessly.

“Uung… Mas-ter….”

Orca planted a kiss on the lips that were smacking together as he mumbled in his sleep. Hearing him call for him and act spoiled even in his dreams was quite pleasant to his ears. He stopped watching him, roughly tidied his pants, and left the sofa. He had no choice, as he felt he would get hard again if he stayed like this. He hurried toward the bathroom, forcing his attention away from his organ that was already half-erect. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to lay Niah down comfortably.

He washed his hands, mocking his own distracted expression in the mirror. The congealed semen and viscous fluids were washed away by the water and soap. He felt a bit of regret thinking that Niah’s discharge was mixed in there. He laughed dryly, regretting not having tasted a mouthful. He had always been someone who hated things being dirty.

He took out a thick towel, soaked it in warm water, and returned to the sofa. He wiped Niah’s face quietly so as not to wake him, and cleaned his damp stomach and the area around his thighs until they were spotless. After watching him for quite a while again, he came to his senses, brought underwear and pajamas from the dressing room, and put them on him. When he took off his top to change him, he held his breath and acted cautiously, as if performing some major operation.

“Ah….”

Then, Orca sighed when he discovered the arm that had bruised and turned red in the meantime. Wondering if it would be better to just cut off the hands that couldn’t even control their own strength, he had such extreme thoughts while finishing dressing him and fastening the buttons.

Niah seemed to be sleeping very deeply, as he hadn’t budged since his sleep-talking earlier. He slept as if dead, with only shallow breaths flowing out. Orca knelt on the carpeted floor to see if Niah was really just asleep. At this point, he didn’t care about the dignity of a noble.

He interlocked his hands with Niah’s curled-up fingers to check his body temperature and brought his ear to his nose. Still not satisfied, he pressed his ear against his chest. The regular, thumping sound of his heart could be heard faintly. Only then was his heart put at ease, and he let out a held breath. Even though he could know just by sharpening his hearing without having to get close, he listened quietly for a while, in a posture that looked as if he were being held in Niah’s arms.

He was pleased to feel that he was alive. It was a funny thing. He, who had felt peace while swimming through an ocean where hundreds and thousands of deaths were spreading, was now wishing for someone’s safety. I’m glad I didn’t kill him, I’m glad he didn’t die.

Orca carefully lifted Niah and laid him on his bed. He won’t catch a cold just because he was undressed for a while, right? he thought, yet he still covered him with the blanket up to his chin, doubting the frailty of his body. The patting gesture followed naturally.

“Niah. Wake up soon.”

Orca, who whispered the malice in his heart, bent his waist and pressed his own lips lightly against the swollen lips. Pulling away immediately, he whispered once more and swept back his hair. Orange curls scattered ticklishly between his fingers.

“Soon.”

Niah wandered through a pleasant dream, knowing nothing.

The unidentified emotion that Orca named “Niah” had been an uncontrollable lust, then a relief that he hadn’t murdered him, then a foolish prayer wishing that summer would never come, and finally, it ended with a period of gratitude for Niah’s life, for his being alive.

He was grateful that he hadn’t died yet with his tender, small body, and that of all the many mansions, he had entered as a servant for the Wair family. He was so pleased that he had endured that difficult and tiring life and eventually met him and was held in his arms. He liked the voice that said he liked him, that he didn’t care who he was, that he didn’t care if he wasn’t human, that it was fine if he were strange. He was grateful that he didn’t avoid him, that he instead gave him his company and didn’t forget him for even a single moment. No, setting all of this aside, the mere fact that he was sleeping peacefully in his bed was enough to fill him with grace.

☀️🌊

To Harriet, Niah and Orca were already nothing more than a pair of fools in love. So, the moment she saw Niah appear with his lips swollen, only one assumption came to her mind.