CH 47

As Janus’s thick penis repeatedly bored a path through his insides, the colors around Ayra gradually disappeared. One by one; thrust by thrust, all that remained was just white. The old bed creaked loudly alongside the two’s moans.

‘Ayra, hnngh, ngh, mm… Haah!”

Janus’s hot breath scattered on the mage’s nape and reached the ears and shoulders. When Ayra realized that Janus was feeling just as good, he shuddered with pleasure. When Janus released his waist and seized the edge of the blanket, tearing it apart as if he were ripping paper, the mage’s spine momentarily tingled. The blood vessels on Janus’s forearms and the back of his hands sprouted into a visible, twisted blue.

However, that sharp clarity only lasted for a moment; when Janus grabbed and rubbed Ayra’s abandoned penis, all cognitive functions shut down. His sanity disintegrated into sweet yet indescribable pleasure. Just as the mercenary had in the igloo, Janus rubbed the head of the mage’s penis with just his thumb and forefinger.

More than half of the man’s weapon-like cock penetrated his insides, but the pain was trivial. The pleasure, which had been building steadily with each friction-inducing movement, finally broke through the dam and gushed down.

Everything was swept away by its waves.

How many seconds? How many minutes? Ayra had no idea–he was gasping for breath when he returned to his senses. The sound of his heartbeats throbbed wildly in his ears.

As he laid down, stomach facing the bed and holding his breath, his companion’s cock slipped out of him. The peculiar sensation of his intestines being dragged out of his body made him tremble involuntarily.

With one slow yet deep inhale, Janus was able to gather himself and calm his rough breaths. He reached out and gently turned Ayra onto his back. When their eyes met, the mage’s lazily blinking blue-gray eyes widened.

Janus’s red eyes were shining–blood-red–more vividly than usual. Despite pouring out his passion into Ayra’s body just moments ago, the mercenary’s black pupils were still filled with hunger. Staring at Ayra with such eyes, Janus suddenly lowered his upper body as if he were pouncing on the mage.

Ayra gasped a bit vacantly, wondering if Janus would devour him right then and there. As the mercenary’s mouth opened wide, a red tongue flickered across the corners of his mouth, wriggling about like a snake. Janus leaned over the mage, revealing his sharp, white fangs. The mage’s white eyelids trembled with anxiety.

Contrary to his imagination, though, Janus kissed Ayra instead of consuming him. A very sweet and tender kiss.

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

“I’m…dying…” Ayra whined and grumbled; Janus managed to hear the faint voice and responded by shifting his attention from leisurely gazing out the window. How could he stand in front of the window when he was stark naked? He seemed to be proud of himself. ‘Well, I suppose he has a fit enough body to match that pride…’

Janus approached Ayra, who was stretched languid on the bed; the mercenary roughly checked the mage’s condition. Pretending to console the mage, Janus patted him on the shoulder and said, “It’s alright. you won’t die.”

But Ayra wasn’t alright at all.

Ayra had thought, right until Janus had kissed him, that it was all finished. But that wasn’t it–the kiss turned into some kind of foreplay that marked the beginning of their next round.

Janus stole Ayra’s mind with that sweet kiss before sneakily delving between the mage’s legs once more. The relentless kisses left Ayra no room to protest as he skillfully inserted that scary weapon back inside.

The first round made Ayra feel as if his waist was melting; by the second and third rounds, he felt as if his waist had collapsed. At the same time, the man’s technique was impeccable, so the mage experienced ecstasy many times.

The problem, though, was the aftermath. His whole body aches as if he had been beaten, and his arms and legs would not cooperate.

Above all, Ayra felt as if his rear was still gaping wide open; he fumbled at that area in fear. When he touched various points, the mage found that his asshole was swollen and not even a finger could slip inside. Though he felt relieved, he regretted that he had strained his muscles needlessly. He barely reached back far enough to check his condition, yet groans of pain slipped out of his mouth.

‘Did I perhaps lose health?’

Half-doubting that theory, Ayra manifested his stat window, and just as he feared, he had lost about 30 points. His precious health and stamina, which was already less than 1000 points on average… In contrast, Janus, who boasted steel-like stamina of 9,999,999, had suffered no damage to speak of.

Ayra couldn’t believe it. And, scarily enough, Janus seemed to have shown some consideration as this was their first time together.

Janus climbed into the bed while Ayra laid still, trying to regain his lost strength. Leaning against the headboard, he pulled Ayra, who was rolled up the blanket like a caterpillar, onto his body to warm the mage. The mercenary played with the disheveled silver hair, humming as if he were still in a good mood after having sex. However, the mercenary’s affection rating was still at a 3.

‘I guess this guy doesn’t even care about my physical condition.’

A little disappointed, Ayra leaned his head against the solid chest and let his companion play with his hair. The rise and fall of his chest, following each deep breath, felt pleasant. However, Ayra couldn’t tolerate the man’s off-key humming any longer and finally said, “You’re tone-deaf…”

“Yeah, I guess I won’t be able to make a living as a bard.” As he retorted, Janus grabbed a handful of Ayra’s shining, silvery hair and let it slip through his fingers. He brushed aside the bangs off mage’s smooth forehead, revealing it, and gently toyed with the now-exposed white earlobe.

The touch felt sensuous, absorbing the languidness that had been flickering about Ayra’s mind, causing the hazy fog to recede. The mage was momentarily wary, worried another round might start again, but the touch seemed to have no ulterior motives. Ayra relaxed again and gazed at Janus’s face.

Looking up at the mercenary like this, anyone could tell Janus was handsome. That forehead beneath disheveled red hair, the bridge of the nose, and the jawline were all well-defined and smooth. Moreover, his skin was clean and fair as if he had never had a single pimple in his life. His ruby-like eyes, which had a mischievous gleam, were beautiful enough to be coveted.

While appreciating his partner’s appearance, Janus’s finger wandered on the mage’s forehead and travelled down to the mage’s cheek. Janus’s gaze was focused on Ayra, so his head naturally lowered; the dark gleam in his shining eyes was a bit different from a man looking at a beloved lover. It was just a hunch, but if Ayra had to describe the gleam, it was akin to looking at an appealing object.

‘Our compatibility seems quite good after all.’

Though the mage’s body was exhausted, the act of sex was undeniably effective in relieving stress and sexual desire. As much as Ayla enjoyed it, or perhaps even more so, Janus also seemed quite satisfied with their recent intimacy. A contented smile lingered on his lips.

“Everything about you, bar nothing, is beautiful.”

If any random person heard that, they would have genuinely thought this man truly adored his lover. Any ordinary person would have gone over the moon at this tender compliment. Even Ayra might have done the same…if it weren’t for the stat window.

Each time they met, Janus’s attitude became more and more affectionate–as if he was dipped in honey. But, there was no change in his affection levels.

As his feelings slowly receded, Ayra couldn’t help but feel a bit off–the mage thought that Janus’s affectionate behavior might have been learned through past lovers. If Ayra’s heart were to follow his body… The mage shook his head and reminded himself not to like this man too much and regained his composure.

However, the following words soon shook that composure.

“When is your birthday?”

“My birthday?” This was the first time Janus had asked about him. ‘Was the sex that good?’ Ayra mused. Tilting his head, Ayra answered, “It’s the 23rd of the 8th month.”

He hadn’t paid much attention to his birthday until now, so he realized it was coming up soon. Ayra also asked in turn, “Janus, when is your birthday?”

“I don’t know; I can’t remember. I’ve never had anyone celebrate it for me.”

The privilege of celebrating one’s birthday was reserved for societies with a certain level of advanced technology and quality of life. The harder it was to make a living, the more people couldn’t afford to celebrate their own birthdays. In this world, a significant portion of the population lived without even knowing their proper age.

“Is there something you want for your birthday?” Janus asked.

Ayra was briefly gripped by the desire to say ‘Give me your body.’ Various things he wanted came to mind. However, he suddenly remembered Ginas’s advice at that moment, urging Ayra to adorn himself beautifully with magic, words, and actions. “How about a mana stone worth 100,000 cells…? No, forget about that… clothes…  Or, um, perhaps a precious book…?”

Janus smirked at Ayra’s attempt to win his favor; he said quietly, “What about a demonic beast?”

Ayra’s eyes shook and looked here and there. Janus smiled mischieviously as he pressed the end of Ayra’s round nose with his finger, “Why are you suddenly being so coy? You want a demonic beast, don’t you?”

Before the mage could answer, Janus continued, as if he had read Ayra’s thoughts, “Alright, I get it. You want a rare and elusive beast that is difficult to capture, so you can experiment with it, dissect it, and study it.”

It was a perfect read on someone who had spent 20 years studying demonic and magic beasts in seclusion within the Labyrinth and had recently emerged into the rest of the world. Unable to deny it any longer, Ayra cleared his throat and added, “One with beautiful eyes.”

“Aha–one with beautiful eyes, huh? Alright, alright.”

Ayra had never been one to be excited about his birthday, but his heart was already pounding with anticipation after hearing Janus’s answer. Similar to a child waiting for Santa’s gift on Christmas.

Ayra laid in Janus’s arms as they talked about this and that until the sky fell dark. Regardless of how he felt about Janus–or what the mercenary felt for him–the mage was at least at ease in the man’s presence.

After resting like that, he recovered about half his energy. Ayra stood up, recalling he should probably return to the castle soon. As he picked up and brushed off the clothes scattered on the floor, Janus, who had been lying on the bed and observing him, asked, “Should we meet again tomorrow?”