[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Neville looked up at Grayson, cue resting against his shoulder.

He blinked innocently and said, "Yeah. Beginner’s luck."

At the side table, Julius leaned toward Pete and Chronos, his voice pitched just loud enough for their ears only. "Is it, though?"

Pete shook his head slowly. "If he sinks the last two, that’s not luck anymore."

The eight ball still waited in its corner.

Neville circled the table once, assessing, then positioned himself without hesitation.

The cue slid between his fingers, and he struck.

The remaining solid found its pocket with a muted thump, and the cue ball rolled to a stop in perfect position for the eight.

The final shot was anticlimactic. With a gentle tap and a controlled roll, the eight ball dropped into the corner pocket.

Neville set the cue down on the rail and looked at Grayson.

Grayson looked back.

"I need a drink," Julius announced as he stood up from the side table like a man who had just lost a bet.

"Bring me one," Bryan said.

"Two non-alcoholic ones," Pete added, holding up two fingers.

Julius, already walking toward the bar with the stiff-backed posture of wounded pride, didn’t turn around. "Grab your own drinks."

"Don’t be stingy!" Sarah shouted after him. "Bring enough for everyone! I want something fruity!"

Julius lifted his hand and extended a middle finger over his shoulder. Then he disappeared behind the bar and began pulling glasses.

Even if he was annoyed and acted like that, Julius was still going to bring everyone their drinks.

From behind the bar, the sound of ice clinking against glass filtered through the ambient noise.

Iris uncurled from her spot, stretching.

"I’ll play the next round," she said, rolling her sleeves up.

But it went unnoticed, because the group’s attention had been recaptured by the two people standing at the far end of the pool table.

It seemed that the two had once again forgotten that there were other people in this place.

Grayson had stepped closer to Neville, turning the atmosphere between them from public to private. His head was tilted down, his voice barely audible.

"Play me next round?" he murmured.

The words were simple enough since they were still next to the pool table. But something in Grayson’s tone made Neville’s pulse quicken in confusion.

Neville looked up at him, and Grayson’s face had the faint, knowing curve of his mouth. For a moment, Neville’s thoughts went somewhere that had absolutely nothing to do with pool.

He felt the blush start at his collarbone and climb.

But Neville, even if it went half a beat late, also knew how to recover. He squared his shoulders, met Grayson’s eyes dead-on, and smiled.

"Only if you promise to cancel the punishment."

A beat of silence.

Then Grayson smiled back, one that made a crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

"As expected," Grayson said, his voice warm with admiration. "You caught on fast."

Neville tilted his chin up. The blush was still there, but his smile sharpened—playful and challenging.

"Of course I did," Neville said, confidently. "Whose boyfriend do you think I am?"

Grayson opened his mouth to reply—

"The table’s been reset," Pete called from across the room, with the weary patience of a man who had been forced to witness other people’s romance from a front-row seat all afternoon.

"Stop flirting like there aren’t other people around!" Sarah added, not even bothering to look up from the drink Julius had just delivered.

She took a sip, made a face, and pointed at the glass accusingly. "Julius, this tastes like medicine."

"It is medicine," Julius said flatly. "For my patience."

"Who else is going to play?" Iris asked as she was already selecting a cue from the wall rack.

Bryan set down his glass and said, "I’ll go help Julius bring the rest of the drinks."

Sarah’s hand shot out and seized his elbow before he could take a single step.

"Oh no, you don’t."

She fixed him with a serious look on her face that scared Bryan, even though he was at least six inches taller than she was.

"You and Iris are also a couple. How come you lose to those two rookies?"

She jabbed her thumb toward the pool table where Neville and Grayson were still standing so close together that they were almost hugging.

"At least try to compete!"

Bryan blinked. "Compete in what? Pool?"

"In being a couple! Duh?!"

Bryan’s smiling poker face didn’t waver, but his eyes slid toward Iris with a look that clearly communicated: Do you want to handle this, or should I?

Iris, who was now testing the weight of her chosen cue, did not even glance in their direction.

She was not one to be particularly concerned with public displays of affection, or the lack thereof.

When Bryan eventually got himself out of Sarah’s grip, he wandered over to stand beside Iris.

Iris simply let him settle his arm around her waist without comment—a gesture as natural as breathing.

Meanwhile, Neville—who had overheard Sarah’s pointed comparison—felt himself overheating in embarrassment.

He turned away from everyone, lowered his head, and buried his face directly into Grayson’s chest.

[Favorability +1%]

It was the closest available place to hide his face, nothing more.

Grayson’s chest was very warm. He also smelled the faint fresh water pheromones, which calmed him down.

But then, when Neville became conscious of the fact that he was pressing his face on Grayson’s solid chest, the heat began to come back.

In the end, the cycle was never-ending.

"Mmph," Neville said into Grayson’s shirt, effectively communicating his current emotional state.

Above him, out of Neville’s line of sight, Grayson’s expression underwent a transformation.

From his composed expression bloomed a look of satisfaction and utter smugness—that bordered on the indecent.

His arms came up and settled loosely around Neville’s back. He rested his chin on top of Neville’s head.

He smirked, smiling victoriously.

Bryan, who had a direct line of sight to this display, narrowed his eyes.

"Don’t get too smug," he said, annoyed. "It’s a bad look on you."

Then he turned to Iris and placed his hand on the small of her back. He steered her gently toward the table. "Come on. Let’s show them how adults play."

Iris allowed herself to be steered.

"I don’t want to tire you," she said.

"As long as it’s you, who will tire me," Bryan whispered in a hoarse voice.