Bermuda

“Ah, I should’ve finished first back then. No reason to switch positions.”

“It’s already over, so forget it. And it wasn’t even a fair match to begin with.”

“Isn’t it a good thing it ended quickly? The unlucky ones in the previous match all ended up with fractures. But we’re all fine, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. Good thing we didn’t run into Asher. And there’s a repechage round anyway.”

Participants who had just finished their match streamed through the corridor in groups. Every one of them looked worn and disheveled from the ordeal. As they reviewed the match among themselves, they trudged toward the men’s shower room. With each step, muddy footprints lined up in a single direction behind them.

“Still, since Lion and Asher won’t be in the next round, maybe it would’ve been better to lose?”

“That’s a bit....”

“Ha... next time, we’re definitely winning.”

“Huh? What’s this?”

Arriving at the shower room door, they stopped short at the sign hanging there: Under Maintenance. It was the same place Ero had rushed into earlier before bolting out in a panic. However, the barrier he had set up before leaving—after returning borrowed items to the supply room—was now gone.

“It says it’s under maintenance?”

One of them tugged at the handle anyway, muttering irritably.

“What kind of place does repairs during a match? This should’ve been handled beforehand.”

“Seriously. There should be another shower on the other side, right? Let’s go there.”

“I checked earlier—there were tons of people. Should we ask a staff member when this one will be available?”

Click, click. The one lingering at the handle tried it again before finally letting go.

“Yeah, it’s locked right now.”

“Let’s go.”

“Damn, I didn’t want to run into the guys we just fought.”

The four of them moved on, disappearing around the corner down the corridor. Their voices gradually faded.

Around that time, from inside the door, a heavy thud sounded—thump. It was faint enough not to be heard outside, but strong enough to make the Under Maintenance sign rattle slightly.

***

“...What are you doing?”

Hugo lay on the powder room floor.

More precisely, he had been forced down onto it.

Squinting slightly under the overhead light, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare.

Then, the figure looming above him grabbed his wrist and pressed it firmly to the ground. The hand that had supported the back of his head lowered him carefully, as if to avoid injury—treating his head with care even at the very end.

The contrast between those two touches was strikingly different. But one thing was certain—both were driven by desire.

Soon, a discarded towel was dragged over and placed beneath his neck like a cushion. In an instant, something resembling a makeshift bed took form.

“You said you were curious.”

Leaning over him, Leonardo blocked the light. From Hugo’s perspective, golden eyes curved slyly beneath a halo of backlight. Beneath the cascade of blond hair, lips flushed red curved upward, tongue flicking out lazily—like a predator savoring its prey.

And that prey... seemed to be himself.

“......”

Lying there with his legs stretched out, Hugo simply stared at Leonardo, momentarily stripped of any sense of reality.

When the sound of someone pulling at the door handle echoed from outside, Leonardo instinctively turned his gaze toward it. But once it became clear the door was locked, his behavior grew noticeably bolder. The moment the presence outside faded, he lunged—toppling Hugo onto his back in an instant.

It had happened in a blink. But for a predator, that moment was enough.

Thanks to a strange kind of consideration, his head hadn’t struck the ground. Still, falling without warning at this age was no small shock. For a brief moment, Hugo’s mind went blank as he stared up with unfocused eyes.

And then, that brazen beauty—daring enough to place a noble beneath him—began climbing over his body.

His hands trailed slowly along the damp contours of Hugo’s shirt, moving toward his face.

He didn’t go for his throat—so it wasn’t an assassination. Instead, he grabbed the loosened tie, twisting it around his fingers like a toy.

With his long robe spilling around him, he finally settled atop Hugo’s abdomen, sitting there like an emperor in arrogant command.

“You were the one who said you were curious. About what I think about when I do it.”

It was a first for Hugo, one of only two Dukes of the Empire.

To be the object of someone’s desire and be pinned beneath them like this. To lie exposed on the floor of a shared space with nothing but a damp towel as a pillow.

And to have the cause of it all press a half-hard length against his chest.

“This is how I did it. On top of you.”

Leonardo rocked his hips slowly, as if riding him. The length slid between the valley of Hugo’s firm chest, veins standing out prominently.

Hugo dragged his other hand over, pressing his forehead in exasperation. Rubbing at his eyes, he let out a low groan.

“If I get curious twice... I might be in trouble.”

“You already know once isn’t enough for me. So deal with it.”

Spreading his fingers, he peered through them, only for Leonardo to smile brightly and lean in. He brushed his cheek against the back of Hugo’s hand, then pressed his nose and lips there. Soft sounds followed—small, affectionate kisses, even a warm breath blown through the gaps.

Despite his wild nature, these occasional gestures were almost boyish in their innocence.

And that face—truly the peak of radiant beauty. Enough to make one want to forgive every irreverent act in the name of affection.

“Deal with it...”

Hugo repeated the words faintly, almost like a sigh. They had been his own, after all—hard to refute.

And just like that, his dignity and authority were worn down yet again. If he continued indulging this unruly beast in such reckless play, he feared the carefully maintained facade he had upheld might eventually be stripped away entirely.

In the end, perhaps only a pitiful man would remain here—not the Duke of Agrizend.

A foolish man, greedy enough to want to claim someone far younger and more alluring as his own.

Lost in such thoughts, Hugo blinked slowly. Leonardo, gripping his wrist, pulled his hand away from his face. By now, the arousal beneath him had fully returned, pressing against his jaw.

Using the robe barely clinging to his shoulders, Leonardo wiped away the tangled mess at his lower body. Then he planted one hand beside Hugo’s head and aimed the tip of himself toward Hugo’s lips with the other.

The deepened color of the flushed tip rubbed against Hugo’s mouth. As it pushed between his saliva-slick lips, wet sounds followed. Whatever their intended purpose had originally been, at this moment, the difference no longer mattered. Leonardo persistently warmed the entrance, careful not to hurt the inexperienced mouth.

His gaze, looking down, was both sensual and tender.

“Stay still. I’ll take care of it.”

His voice, soft yet commanding, settled over Hugo’s eyes. Not that it suited someone currently grinding himself over Hugo’s tie—but Leonardo was already being drawn in by that smooth sensation.

For days, every time he had satisfied himself alone, that restraint had coiled his arousal tighter, dragging him into frustration. And now, he willingly surrendered to it.

Would this man even know how he had reacted every time he saw that dark blue tie?

Today, at last, it was time to turn humiliation into domination.

Breathing unevenly, Leonardo half-lidded his eyes and ordered,

“Ah... open your mouth. Lift your head.”

“...Why the head?”

Hugo asked, his voice low, watching him.

Leonardo stroked his forehead and temple gently as he explained,

“So it goes deeper.”

“......”

“That’s how it was in my head.”

Noticing the hesitation, Leonardo, flushed and breathless, grinned. It was one of the few answers Hugo had gotten out of all his questions—but not one he particularly liked.

Still, after a moment, he opened his mouth obediently. Tilting his chin up, he drew in a deep breath—so that it would be wide enough to take in that indecent thing.

At least, the fact that he himself had been the one in Leonardo’s imagination brought some satisfaction.

As he raised his arm from the floor, Hugo slowly stroked from Leonardo’s waist down to his hips.

At the same time, the heated tip slipped past his lips.

Soft—but unhesitating.

Just as it seemed enough—

The slick length slid over his tongue and pressed against his throat.

A sharp, involuntary sound caught in Hugo’s throat.

The pressure built as it hovered at the entrance, as though it might push deeper still. His throat tightened and loosened in uneven rhythm at the sudden intrusion.

“...Relax.”

“Good.”

Leonardo murmured low, soothing him as he gently stroked his cheek.

Yet at the same time, his upper body leaned back slightly. One hand reached behind Hugo, searching along his firm abdomen, still tensing.

Sliding his hand beneath the edge of the shirt, Leonardo pushed past the fabric.

And then—

Something unexpected.

Heat. Dampness.

A thick, lingering warmth seeped between his fingers.

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