GC | Chapter 2.2

Whether he was feeling better than usual or simply the same as always, Shey’s face as he looked at the sea made it impossible to guess what he was thinking. Observing him closely, Ruslan spoke quietly.

“Give it up already. You’re not getting away from me, even in death.”

Shey, gazing out toward the distant sea, did not bother answering that warning. Whether he answered or not, it was already decided.

That evening, Ruslan fucked Shey until he blacked out in the second-floor parlor, then ate dinner greedily with the unconscious Shey beside him. When Shey woke and stared at that grotesque scene with dazed eyes, Ruslan gave him a bright-eyed smile and then focused on filling Shey’s stomach instead.

When Shey tried not to eat because he had no appetite, Ruslan shoved back into his lower hole so he couldn’t run off, then chewed meat and forced it into Shey’s mouth. Only after he had swallowed food that way and drunk his fill, to the point where Shey’s stomach was more or less full, did Ruslan feel around the flat belly to check.

But he tilted his head, wondering whether the belly was bulging more than usual because it had taken his cock or because Shey had eaten a full dinner, and in the end forced in the rest of the meat until Shey vomited.

Shey, whose stamina had dropped so much that even digesting too much food was difficult, went limp at last, and only then did Ruslan grow satisfied and run his hands over Shey’s arms and legs. He did not like how thin those limbs were. If possible, he wanted the ass to get plumper than it was now, and the belly and chest to gain soft, yielding flesh too.

While Shey digested the food, Ruslan spent the time at leisure with his cock planted in that sloppy back pussy. Sipping the tribute wine and warming himself against that hot flesh, it felt like heaven.

If it stayed exactly like this, it would be perfect.

He was young, there was nothing in the world for him to fear, and his beloved lover was tender enough just to look at. He could be stubborn and troublesome, but that made him cute and lovable in his own way too.

With only his cock plugged into that sloppy back pussy, Shey whined something. Ruslan was too drunk to tell whether he wanted it out or wanted it to be fucked harder, so he slapped his ass once, and he went quiet at once.

If only he listened this well every day. Then I could spoil him so much he’d be speechless. I already loved him enough to want to split open my own chest and show him……

After he drank the wine straight from the bottle, the tip of his cock twitched and he needed to piss. Normally he would have moved Shey aside and taken care of it, but he didn’t want to send away that warm body.

So he wrapped his arms tightly around the narrow waist and relaxed comfortably. Hot piss sloshed through his insides and filled him, and what couldn’t be contained in time spilled down to the floor.

At the cool relief of emptying himself, Ruslan stared blankly at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Come to think of it, he thought he might have heard Shey crying too……

He knew Shey hated taking his piss while sober, but the thought of it was overridden by a simple, who-cares feeling.

Anyway, when Shey was being fucked inside out through his pussy and back pussy, he liked whatever Ruslan spilled, and Shey was no different from my fuckhole or a toilet anyway. Besides, Shey used me like a toilet too.

Ruslan muttered that he would wash him once he sobered up and patted the soft ass beneath his hand. He wanted to sleep for just a moment. There was no cradle as comforting as Shey’s embrace.

✿ • ✿ • ✿

Shey opened his eyes uncomfortably at the heavy weight pressing down on his body. The tall man, so big his ankles stuck out past the bed, was asleep all curled up.

When he checked his body, the filthy mess had been washed clean, and he was wearing a fresh set of pajamas. Reality had been too much, and he’d fled into sleep partway through, so he had no idea when he’d been cleaned. Naturally, he didn’t feel grateful at all.

Shey lay on his side and quietly stared at Ruslan, who was breathing evenly in sleep. He knew why this rogue of a man came sneaking in every dawn and crawled into bed beside him.

He had once seen the man in the throes of a painful groan, jerking upright and gasping for breath. That day too, forced to give up one side of the bed, Shey had watched him closely, and the moment Ruslan rose with a pale face, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

And almost the instant he closed his eyes, frantic hands groped over Shey. It was the urgency of someone who had not considered that the sleeper might wake. The hands touching Shey’s cheek and neck in turn were cold and damp.

Ruslan kept his head bowed for a long time, fingers worrying at the long scar that stretched along the artery in that slender neck.

‘No. Right, that can’t be.’

As always, once he confirmed that Shey was alive, Ruslan murmured something no one could understand and sat at Shey’s bedside for quite a long time. Then he staggered out of the room.

When Shey got up after the footsteps had faded and quietly opened the door, he saw a back wandering like a ghost at the end of the hallway.

The silver doll bathed in dawn light staggered around the corner and vanished from Shey’s sight, and by morning that ghost had transformed back into the same wicked devil as always.

Shey never once spoke of that dawn. Forgetting wasn’t something one could do at will, but at least pretending not to know was possible. What did it matter that this horrible man feared losing Shey? Not anymore.

“……Why aren’t you asleep?”

Whether it was remorse or resentment, or something else entirely, Shey was lost in meaningless thoughts as he looked at Ruslan, when the sleeping man opened his eyes. A man born when everyone in the household’s fate was as fragile as a candle in the wind was especially alert to the slightest sound, after spending half his life on the battlefield with his father.

“Can’t sleep?”

“……”

“Why can’t I sleep, I wonder……”

Even though he had not answered, Ruslan muttered as if he knew everything and drew Shey into his arms. Then he patted Shey’s shoulder the way one would soothe a child’s bedtime fussing.

“Even if you’re not sleepy, close your eyes. That’s how sleep comes…… If you don’t sleep, we can’t play tomorrow either.”

Shey had never once liked the play Ruslan talked about. He hated the sexual sensitivity forced on him, the sloppy intercourse, the outings, everything.

But Ruslan spoke as if all those things had always been done together, with both of them in perfect agreement, and once again promised tomorrow.

Let’s go out together tomorrow. I’ll buy you the snacks you like. And you’ll choose your own new jewelry, and we can have next year’s clothes fitted in advance. White suits Shey well, so I think a white fur coat would be nice……

Ruslan’s voice, murmuring promises that held only one person’s wish, slowly faded away. Held in those strong arms, Shey also closed his eyes and let a future that meant nothing drift away.

The end.