Turning
chapter-461

Though Yuder seemed unaware, there were moments when his expression told a different story.

In instances when an ordinary person might revel in elation and let their emotions soar, Yuder diverged from his usual calm. He displayed a rare blend of tenderness and faint pain.

This hadn't been the case initially. Gradually, though, this aspect of him had revealed itself, until now it was plainly visible even to an undiscerning eye.

It wasn't something that had sprung up overnight. Kishiar thought as much. What Yuder had wasn't a fresh wound that bled openly and clumsily; it more closely resembled a scar, worn down and dulled over a long stretch of time.

Even at the young age of twenty, Kishiar’s assistant was unusually shrewd and mature. But when Yuder made that face, that feeling intensified.

The problem was that this expression was not exclusive to moments shared with Kishiar.

It had flickered briefly into existence before his closest comrades, at the tail end of a mission completed without a single casualty, vanishing like a mirage before one could even blink.

The happier he was, the more tormented he seemed.

The sweeter it was, like syrup, the more it felt bitter.

Kishiar couldn't fathom the cause of these conflicting emotions Yuder exhibited, but he chose not to address it or ask about it.

Instead, he offered silent comfort, and with a tender kiss encapsulated a wistful pain.

"Mm, ah...ah."

Yuder accepted Kishiar's lips without hesitation and closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around him. When he opened his eyes again, the bitterness he had just felt was nowhere to be found.

Kishiar cupped the last of the scented oil into his palm and liberally anointed himself with it. The amount seemed excessive, but perhaps it was still not enough.

There was no sign of fear or tension in Yuder's eyes, yet the future was uncertain. To ease the transition to what was next, Kishiar exhaled deeply to quell the intense heat that threatened to consume his mind. The sensation of a sweat droplet trailing down his chin felt strangely dull.

"Shall we... change positions?"

"How do you mean?"

Kishiar explained that it would be less burdensome for Yuder to turn over. But Yuder quickly made it clear that he had no such preference.

"I don't want to be face down."

Concerns about minimizing pain seemed utterly inconsequential to him. Just as Kishiar was about to say something more, Yuder pulled him close and wrapped his legs around him.

"This is fine. Just, hurry..."

Seeing Yuder's flushed eyes as he bit his lip and swallowed his words, an intoxicatingly potent scent overtook Kishiar's senses.

It was a scent that tugged insistently at all that Kishiar was—a scent distinctly Yuder.

Before such a call, there was no room left for contemplation.

"Ah…"

The plunge was both rapid and slow.

Though no distinct sounds emanated from between them during their union, the world seemed to roar like a tempest in their ears. As their vision swirled into oblivion, their minds struggled to hold on to reality.

And it was Yuder's hands, once again, that pulled Kishiar back from the hot, intense waves that engulfed him.

The moment Kishiar felt the solid touch of those fingers that had slid down his neck, embraced it, and finally wormed their way through his own, he realized with stunning clarity where he stood in a given moment.

It was a moment of unity.

Something that had existed between him and Yuder was violently shaken, turned upside-down, and disappeared in a whirlwind of dust.

As if on cue, time and space lost their meaning, and only the two of them remained in the void that had turned pitch black.

Speechless, Kishiar clenched his hand around Yuder's fingers that had burrowed into his own. Opening his eyes, which until now had only been dampened by physiological heat, he saw a novel glint of light flicker between his dark eyelashes.

Before he could even comprehend what it was, Yuder slowly lifted his hand to Kishiar's cheek. What he stole was a droplet of moisture Kishiar hadn't even known was trickling down.

Kishiar blankly stared at the transparent wetness moistening his fingertips, then reached out to touch Yuder's face. The light that silently streamed down his cheeks soaked his hand in the same hue.

A torrential wave of both immense pain and breathtaking joy surged from somewhere deep within him, a feeling he knew without a word was shared by his partner.

From somewhere deeper than the flesh.

"My God."

How could something like this exist?

So huge, so painful, so perfect.

How could a being like you exist alongside me?

Kishiar bent his back to fully align his body over Yuder's. The realization that he could feel every single part of the other—foreheads, noses, lips, fingers—sent a shiver down his spine.

Though it may have been a brief moment in reality, it felt eternal as their lips finally met, and gradually they returned halfway to reality. The heat that had been boiling endlessly inside Kishiar also began to slowly settle. The coupling wasn't over, but if he were not to ruthlessly penetrate the other's entirety, it was wise for both to stop here and move slowly.

Following his instincts, Kishiar slowly withdrew his hips while maintaining the lingering kiss and holding Yuder's hand for support.

"Huh…"

Yuder clenched his teeth, trembling at the sensation that seemed to drag on endlessly. As he applied pressure to the legs wrapped around Kishiar's body, Kishiar once again gently entered him.

He was enveloped by a warm, soft swamp-like sensation, desperately accommodating him.

"…Ah."

Yuder released a breathless sound, his eyes opening and closing.

Then, they began the rhythm again—retreating and plunging quickly, the wet sounds growing slightly louder as membranes met membranes.

It wasn't a sound that could be produced by Kishiar alone. As he looked up, he saw Yuder's face, his eyes wide open, watching every reaction. Kishiar smiled faintly.

As before, Yuder always acted like he had to see Kishiar's face at moments like this. It even led Kishiar to suspect, almost with certainty, that this might be the extension of why Yuder had said he didn't want to turn around.

People who knew little about Yuder often spoke of feeling a sense of dread when they encountered him. This fear arose from staring into an abyss so vast and pitiless that it seemed beyond any words or force to counter—few other feelings could compare for a human being when faced with such a chasm.

However, a closer look into his eyes would reveal that they contained something purer and more beautiful than anything else in the world.

Though not perfectly unblemished, that abyss had a compelling allure that captivated people all the more for its imperfections.

Despite being told to speak up if he felt pain, there was no need for such caution. Even if Kishiar couldn't fully absorb everything, he felt no sense of discomfort emanating from Yuder. Yuder was wholly alive, raising goosebumps on Kishiar's skin, moving freely, and expressing that he was fully immersed in the moment. That was enough.

Overwhelmed with unbelievable joy that Yuder was so engrossed with him, Kishiar repeatedly kissed and sucked on his flesh.

It was the first time he had ever felt so thankful for having lips.

Not just lips, but hands, feet, and even the sexual organs that he had once found cumbersome—all of it, he was grateful for in their entirety.

For the first time, the fact that his life had continued unbroken to this very day felt like a miraculous blessing.

He lifted himself up and grabbed one of Yuder's ankles. As the angle shifted, Yuder took in a sharp breath and tilted his head. Facing Yuder's questioning eyes as if asking, "What are you planning to do?", he pressed his lips against the inner ankle. Sparks flew between his dark pupils.