Bermuda

Leonardo Blaine slowly ran his eyes over the jewel-like blue irises and the straight line of the man’s mouth.

The faint laughter that had lingered between them only moments ago vanished without a trace. The late afternoon halo of sunlight merely slid down the man’s profile and the deep line of his eyes.

Whenever the light struck those eyes, the contrast between the clear iris beneath the protruding brow bone and the dark pupil grew especially intense. It felt like wandering across a snowfield for a long time and suddenly encountering a wolf with beautiful, painfully cold eyes.

Even his low breathing—something that usually went unnoticed—sounded unusually clear up here. Whether it was because Leonardo had become conscious of it, or because his heart had stirred, he still could not tell.

Caught in the sudden shift of mood, Leonardo hesitated for a fleeting instant before instinctively tilting his neck at an angle. He lifted his chin slightly, lowered his eyelids halfway, and fixed his gaze on the other man’s lips.

For a moment, he wondered if someone walking along the street might look up and notice the closed clock tower.

But the thought lasted only a second.

Just as the approaching body heat began stealing his attention and he was about to abandon such concerns altogether—

“Mm.”

A short nasal sound slipped from Leonardo’s closed mouth. The lips he had expected to meet directly touched his forehead first instead. At the same time, a cool hand reached up and gently brushed his hair back behind his ear. It was unexpected, yet somehow fitting—exactly the sort of method one would expect from His Excellency, who believed that even such things had their proper order.

Wherever that touch passed, the fine hairs on his skin rose strangely. Soon after, a cool breath brushed across his brows and drifted leisurely toward the corner of his eyes.

Whenever the man’s lips touched his eyelids, Leonardo was struck anew by just how sensitive the face could be.

His eyes twitched faintly beneath the soft, moist pressure. Then Leonardo turned fully and leaned his back against a metal sculpted cluster of leaves. As the two pairs of feet that had been standing side by side tangled together, their lower bodies pressed warmly together as well.

With a solid arm wrapped firmly around his waist and gentle kisses settling down one after another, Leonardo gradually forgot that there was a sheer drop behind him. Resting both arms along the railing, he quietly rose onto his toes so that His Excellency would not notice the man assaulting his eyelashes.

Because of the difference in height, their groins, which had been slightly misaligned, brushed together and rubbed faintly.

A sharp thrill ran along his spine. The edge of the cloak tucked at his side slipped helplessly down to the floor. Even so, Leonardo merely bit down on the lips that threatened to let out uneven breaths and showed nothing.

This time he would not cling embarrassingly, nor would he start moving his hips first.

Whatever the beginning might have been like, that overly gentlemanly refusal at the villa still bruised his pride.

If things were to go any further than this, then this time the other side should be the one begging. Only then would the balance be right, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps such a silent contest meant nothing to a duke far older and more experienced than he was.

But to him, it was extremely important.

Of course, it was not as though he had ever begged either.

With that intention, Leonardo simply used the railing to support the weight of his body and let his bent wrist hang loosely downward.

He did not touch the broad back before him, nor did he wrap his arms around the man’s neck. Instead, he quietly accepted the surprisingly dense kisses that contrasted with the man’s composed impression. Then he turned his head toward the man who had drawn a trail along his temple and tossed out a remark as if it meant nothing.

“You really like my face.”

Hugo pulled his head back slightly at that. The eyes that had been absorbed in their task turned cold. Leonardo looked up at him with a faintly arrogant posture and raised the corner of his mouth before adding,

“You keep sucking on it so much it’s going to wear away.”

The word he deliberately emphasized was blatant. As if proving that it was not wrong, the corner of his eyes—once merely moist—now shone with a sheen of saliva. Instead of answering, Hugo reached out and rubbed the peach-colored corner of his eye with his thumb.

Earlier, they had been out on the street where anyone might pass by, so there had been no time to savor him slowly and thoroughly. That had been a small regret.

But now things were different, weren’t they?

Pretending to take the bait of that provocation that wanted to seize the upper hand, Hugo placed his lips once more against the temple that had been trembling slightly.

As if continuing a broken pulse, he resumed his persistent caresses.

When his breath spread to the curve of Leonardo’s ear, Leonardo’s face tightened and he shrank his neck with a small shiver.

“...Is that your taste?”

“It would be presumptuous to even call it a preference.”

The voice vibrating against his ear was damp.

Compared with the cheap amphetamines he had rolled around with on the battlefield, it was far more stimulating.

And far more addictive.

As his nerves sharpened, the toes Leonardo had been holding on tiptoe began trembling. The metal buckles of their belts, pressed together at the waist, scraped and grated against each other, hinting at roughening breaths.

Letting out a hot sigh, Leonardo stared at the bell hanging over Hugo’s shoulder.

I shouldn’t get excited first.

In his mind, the bell that had announced midnight that night was already ringing twelve times.

Contrary to that resolve, the eyes that had been receiving affection grew flushed beyond peach, deepening into the red of dusk.

Did it mean that his face was something beyond preference?

Or that the slow, deep caresses that melted over him were?

He had asked with the former in mind, but either way was fine.

The lips that had been nibbling at his earlobe slid down along his jaw and gathered at the tip of his chin.

When Leonardo slowly lowered the chin he had raised, their somewhat indecent lower lips finally met.

Their noses brushed as well, rubbing lightly from side to side.

Hugo tilted his head and completely covered Leonardo’s lips with his own, soothing the impatience that had begun to stir. As the pressure increased, Leonardo’s back, resting against the railing, bent backward with surprising flexibility.

A chilly breeze brushed the nape of his neck and made his body tremble finely. Whether it was from the cold or from pleasure, Leonardo could not tell.

He simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment as if standing in the middle of the open sky.

Sometimes people said that bells rang during a kiss, or that it felt like walking on clouds.

There had been times when Leonardo had thought such expressions exaggerated.

But now that he had reached this moment with the person he wanted, they were not wrong at all.

There must be a reason such phrases had become common idioms.

The right hand that had been stiffly restrained lost control and moved on its own.

It slid up along Hugo’s arm and tangled freely in the back of his head.

He twisted the soft hair like water around his index finger.

Just as he was about to push his tongue deeper, following the hand that had burrowed in—

Fii— Fii—

The cry of a bird of prey echoed briefly twice across the sky.

His attention flickered toward it for a moment, but he had grown sick of hearing such sounds in the desert.

Leonardo ignored it.

Yet the hand that had been wrapped around his waist slipped away. Suddenly Hugo grasped both of Leonardo’s shoulders and slowly drew his upper body back.

“...?”

A thread of saliva stretched from the corner of Leonardo’s lips as he looked up at Hugo with eyes that had been about to sink into a haze.

Smiling, Hugo soothed the tongue that still lingered with several brief birdlike kisses.

Water flowed from his hand, tidying Leonardo’s face neatly.

Then he extended his arm beyond the railing.

The distant shadow that had looked like a mere dot in the sky crossed the air and descended toward the clock tower.

When Leonardo turned his head at the sudden gust of wind, he saw a white-headed eagle beating its wings right behind them. Hugo took the basket clutched in the bird’s talons. Freed, the eagle settled lightly on the railing.

“You must be hungry. Shall we have something simple first?” 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The picnic basket, woven from rattan, had one half of its lid open. Glass bottles had slipped slightly out—one filled with milk, the other with orange juice.

Condensation beaded along the surface of the bright yellow juice bottle, suggesting it had been brought fresh only moments ago.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“...Huh?”

Leonardo could not answer properly out of sheer bewilderment.

It was true he had not eaten yet, but... in this situation?

He simply stared blankly at Hugo with that question in his eyes.

Meanwhile Hugo gently touched Leonardo’s cheek and the back of his neck with affectionate hands, bent to pick up the cloak that had fallen at his feet, and calmly walked toward the back with the items gathered in his arms.

The place he headed toward had been hidden behind the iron door leading to the stairs and the surrounding structure.

Only now did Leonardo notice the old two-seat sofa that had been left there carelessly.

Watching him with a stunned expression, Leonardo parted his lips before biting down on them.

That damn meal.

He appreciated the thought, but honestly he had wanted something else first—

...Ha.

He swallowed the burning protest rising inside him.

Closing his eyes briefly, he let out a slow breath.

Right. There were plenty of eyes outside.

Meeting privately with a duke was not exactly easy.

He had to be careful.

Having convinced himself, Leonardo’s golden eyes slid toward the bluish eagle perched on the railing.

“You’re supposed to be a divine beast, right?”

If something created from its master’s magic could not even get the timing right, it should be disqualified as a divine beast.

The bird, which had been elegantly preening its feathers, seemed to feel the sharp glare and hopped away on both feet.

Soon it dissolved back into formless magic and scattered.

Running a hand through the back of his hair, Leonardo followed the returning magic toward Hugo—without noticing the faint smile spreading at the corner of the duke’s lips.

***

Chewing a croissant sandwich stuffed to the brim, Leonardo wrapped his palm around the already warmed bottle of milk.

After raising its temperature until it was nearly boiling, he poured it into the wooden cup beside him.

He gulped it down in large swallows, the rich scent of goat’s milk spreading through his mouth.

He must really have been hungry.

Now that he felt full, he did not exactly feel cheerful—just pleasantly drowsy.

Hugo finished his croissant in only three bites and casually asked while watching Leonardo pick up a baguette next,

“...You must have been quite hungry. Does it suit your taste?”

“Yeah, it’s good. But I wasn’t that hungry.”

At the firm answer, Hugo fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Shall I have more brought?”

“There’s still plenty left.”

“It’s good if you eat a lot.”

He did not add that, given how battle-oriented Leonardo was, the food might disappear quickly.

The two of them were sitting side by side on the sofa covered with the Legion Commander’s pure white cloak.

In front of them stood a small tea table made instantly from ice.

The cloak Leonardo had been wearing had been used as a cloth over the table to block the cold.

Somehow, the once bleak corner of the tower had transformed into something like an atmospheric terrace.

The sofa was slightly narrow for two grown men, but the seating comfort was honestly better than expected.

At first Leonardo had assumed it had been brought up long ago by the bell ringer who used to manually ring the clock tower, meant for resting during work.

It certainly looked that way—its color faded, its surface marked heavily by time.

But now he could not help wondering whether even that had been part of His Excellency’s plan.

Much like their thighs now brushing and parting slightly on the seat where the weight sank.

“You’re not eating?”

Leonardo licked lightly at the corner of his mouth and turned his head to ask.

Hugo had been staring at the white cream still ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) lingering along the line of his lips.

Their eyes met a moment later.

He had considered wiping it away, but since it was rather pleasing to look at, he decided to leave it.

They could enjoy it together as dessert later.

“I’m fine, so take your time. Don’t choke. More importantly...”

Hugo, who had been about to bring up the main topic, held his tongue for a moment.

Normally he was not the type to hesitate when speaking necessary words.

But perhaps he feared ruining the atmosphere, because the edge of his lips faltered despite his resolve.

Watching that clear face looking at him with no idea at all, the opening of the conversation he had arranged countless times in his head refused to surface.

Where should he begin?

Perhaps it would be better to let him finish eating first, before he choked.

A heavy thought passed through his mind.