Bermuda

“Uhn, ah—.”

His flat lower abdomen rose and fell rapidly, carrying his panting breath with it. In front of it, the blunt tip traced an obscene arc. Swaying with the recoil, it settled into the encircling palm.

The cool sensation touching his hypersensitive skin made Leonardo’s hips jerk sharply, almost transparently so. A sharp sound nearly escaped, but he bit his lips and covered them with the back of his hand.

No one but himself had touched that place recently. Yet pale, clean fingers burrowed in and played far more obscenely than their appearance suggested. The moment it accepted another’s stimulation, the leaking tip was lightly squeezed and released repeatedly, as if checking how wet it was.

Thin cloudy fluid smeared along Hugo’s motion and stretched in strands. The lowered gaze briefly lifted to meet his eyes. In the hair-raising situation, Leonardo swallowed.

The man’s dark gaze deliberately shifted between his palm and his eyes. Insane bastard. Unable to say it aloud, he turned his head away.

Beneath his trembling jaw, bite marks gleamed on his bobbing throat. Though not something the one who made them should say, whether emotion, pain, or pleasure — he still hadn’t broken the habit of biting when enduring something. Hugo brushed the chewed lips with his left thumb.

“Don’t bite.”

At the same time, his right thumb traced the sensitive rim of the glans.

“Haa, hn....”

A crease rarely seen formed between Leonardo’s brows. His defined abs tightened his lower abdomen. Beneath the painfully swollen curve, a cool touch persistently rubbed a sensitive spot. He had said to finish quickly, but not that the weak point would be attacked immediately.

“Wait, there, ah—.”

A rough edge entered Leonardo’s successive moans, like a beast’s growl. Sweat gradually formed on Hugo’s forehead from the heat he released. The palm pressing the slick shaft began moving slowly up and down, lingering agonizingly before occasionally shaking firmly. The unpredictable play seized pleasure by the hair and shook it.

Guided skillfully toward release, Leonardo was dragged helplessly along.

Unable to tell him to slow down, he only gripped his wrist as if to break it — yet the hand never stopped, making him move along with it.

“Hngh, mm....”

A voice Hugo had never heard from him slipped out though he had barely been touched. Not seeing his face felt like a tremendous loss.

“Shall I turn on the light, Leo?”

“...hn, what?”

“I want to see properly.”

See what? He could not ask. If the subject were his face, it would be a sweet whisper — but the vulgar hand slid beneath the sac and pulled the shaft fully upward between the fingers.

It felt like a snare scraping inside while squeezing fluid out. Leonardo tore at Hugo’s sleeve as pleasure spread. He almost answered me too, but remembered his unwashed state after being drenched in Plarinus slime.

Earlier outside, the Legion Commander had looked immaculate and striking — while he himself had fought for hours, fallen into water, and sweated... He did not want to be seen flushed and panting like a pervert. Leonardo shook his head.

“No. I don’t want to.”

The firmness left no room for persuasion. The faint light behind Hugo vanished with regret. A small light sphere had been waiting to illuminate at any time, but Leonardo quickly extinguished it as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

Breathing roughly, Leonardo «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» lowered his reddened eyes instead. His gaze fell on the man’s shape clearly outlined even in darkness.

The only light came from waist level, so the lower body revealed intent more clearly than any expression.

Proportional to his massive hands and feet, it already had strong presence — making it hard to judge arousal in normal circumstances. But now it differed. The heavy form hanging diagonally grew firmer, pushing the uniform trousers outward. The fabric stretched tight, imagination dangerously filling in its shape.

The heat beyond the swollen cloth reached his thigh. Certain, Leonardo reached out boldly.

“I want to touch too.”

Grasping the thick bulge over the clothes, the volume exceeded expectation. The sudden grip made a groan escape Hugo’s teeth, his eyes tightening — and his controlled grip slipped.

Though Leonardo initiated it, he was the one who twisted his waist.

“Ah—!”

“Shh.”

The sharp sound burst briefly. Hugo soothed the trembling man with a kiss, calming the sticky organ soaking even his hand.

Feeling guilty for gripping hard, he parted the slit at the tip gently — and Leonardo thrust his hips upward restlessly. His strength matched the pulse at his neck.

To keep from being swept along, Hugo slowed him, pushing his tongue deep into the narrow mouth, exploring teeth, palate, and beneath the tongue as if extinguishing flame. Yet Leonardo, panting, tangled tongues while one hand busily explored below.

Distracted, saliva ran down his chin. How could he ignore the shadow rising beneath the snow-white uniform? Recklessly bold fingers picked at Hugo’s buckle.

Hugo wiped the wet chin with his tongue and looked down coldly, a vein rising at his temple, then stopped the reckless provocation.

“Stop. Turn around.”

“Ah— why?”

Leonardo resisted, but Hugo seized his wrist and turned him toward the door, pinning his arms behind his back as if restraining a criminal. A boot nudged his ankles apart, an arm wrapped his waist from behind, pushing his hips back while the damp hand returned between his legs.

“Hah—”

The broad torso covering his back made Leonardo tremble lightly.

“...Ah.”

A posture easy to subdue — no, already subdued. The man biting his ear whispered gently.

“It’s my first time doing it for someone. This position is easier.”

First time? At the unbelievable words, Leonardo melted despite the humiliating pose. Resting his head obediently against the door, he pulled one arm back to press a kiss to it, gripping the arm across his pelvis. The movements and strength had indeed changed.

“Uhn, mm, ah—”

Muscles stood out on his forehead between golden hair. Moans escaped. Smooth skin rippled unevenly. Wet sounds echoed each time flesh rubbed in the quiet room, and his lashes fluttered in denial that the sound came from him.

But the hand, now finding a familiar rhythm, sped up — no longer cautious, urging him on smoothly and cruelly.

Unable to contain the tingling pleasure flooding his limbs, Leonardo complained through clenched teeth.

“Haa... unfair—”

“What is.”

“Why am I the only one... ah...”

The rigid arousal pressed against his back and hips — clearly just as excited, yet he wouldn’t let him touch. Leonardo’s hand struggled back, searching for Hugo’s center. Sensing it, Hugo breathed hotly.

“You told me to finish quickly.”

If I join you, it’ll become dangerous.

He bit Leonardo’s sweat-damp nape; Leonardo groaned like prey caught by a predator, his throat swelling and shrinking against the choker.

Aggrieved, he asked,

“You... ah... do you do it like this alone too?”

One of Hugo’s brows rose.

“What?”

“Alone... like this.”

“Ha. Curious?”

“Hn... yeah....”

“I’ll tell you later.”

The promised tongue slid into his ear, shredding his nerves.

His hips rocked with it, almost like being penetrated. The pleasure tightened his abdomen, gathering toward a single point with the rhythm.

Leonardo felt the urge cresting.

Tap, tap, tap — the relentless motion drove him forward expertly toward climax.

His hands gripping front and back of Hugo’s clothes pulled him closer as he turned his head. When he pushed his tongue out pleadingly, straight lips sealed his sounds.

Sparks in his head whitened and blinked out. His toes curled inside his shoes as balance faltered. The swollen tip throbbed painfully.

As his elegant brows twisted deeply, the flushed organ trembled violently within the large hand.