The Saint Wants to Rest - Chapter 33.2
Ian bit his lip.
There was no time. The poison was continuously gnawing away at Vermouth El Di Loxtian. He did not have the luxury of waiting for his brother to fall asleep. He had to perform the treatment for him now.
In this room, where the door could open at any moment.
He had to deceive his brother and lock lips with a man in a closed room. A sense of immorality surged to the top of his head, but there was no other way.
“Do not make a sound,” Ian approached the side of the bed and whispered lowly.
“Hyung is right outside the door. If even the slightest sound leaks out, it is over for both of us.”
“Both of us? That word has a nice ring to it.”
“Stop talking nonsense!”
“I will keep that in mind.”
Ian climbed onto the bed, bracing his trembling hands beside Vermouth’s face. The mattress sank slightly, making a faint creaking sound. A small noise he usually wouldn’t notice felt as loud as thunder now, causing Ian to hold his breath.
“Are you alright?”
Vermouth, pinned beneath Ian, laughed as his eyes curved into crescents. A strange sense of anticipation was harbored within that smile. The hardness of his body and his hot temperature could be felt through the thin fabric of their clothes. The movement of the muscles beneath the garment was vivid.
Ian grabbed Vermouth’s chin.
‘This is a medical treatment.’
After brainwashing himself once more, he looked at Vermouth, who obediently parted his lips. A red tongue was briefly visible between them. Ian glanced instinctively toward the door. However, the doorknob had not moved yet.
The peculiar fear and tension instead caused his senses to sharpen acutely.
Chok.
Their lips met.
Carefully, making as little noise as possible. He awkwardly rubbed the inside with his tongue and pushed his Holy Power through. The Stigma near his heart, which rarely glowed, began to heat up and shine brilliantly. Feeling bothered by it, he rubbed that area with his hand.
Ian had started it, but the rest proceeded as usual. Vermouth wrapped his one remaining hand around Ian’s back and sought the intimate flesh of his mouth.
“……!”
As the self proclaimed medical treatment continued deeply, a wet sound arose from the point of contact. Simultaneously, Vermouth’s body reacted. The pain was washed away, and his body began to be restored by the powerful Holy Power. Vermouth’s face became flushed with the fulfillment of primal power surging through him.
It was sweet, so sweet. He felt a greed to go further than just a kiss. He used his lips to block the groan Ian was about to let out due to the intensifying act. He moved the hand that was wrapping around Ian’s back downward to pull at his waist.
Ian urgently pressed against Vermouth’s chest with his hands.
“Slowly.”
Vermouth laughed at the request uttered alongside feverish breaths. He licked Ian’s wet lips and pushed his tongue back inside. Hot membranes entangled, and saliva mixed together. Ian soon forgot how he had been resentful of Regnasia, wondering why something like this had to be a medical treatment.
He lacked breath due to the persistent kiss. Only after hitting Vermouth mercilessly was he finally able to break free. Ian wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and checked Vermouth’s condition. He was certainly much better. However, he had not recovered completely.
Still, the treatment is working.
The effect was clear. But once was not enough. To pull the poison out by the roots, he had to inject more, even deeper.
Ian took a deep breath and delved in even more desperately. He ensnared Vermouth’s tongue and shared every single breath without exception. Because they were trying to avoid making noise, their breathing became rougher and the contact became stickier. The sound of tongues mixing in their mouths lingered in his ears.
Vermouth’s eyes narrowed.
The pain had long since vanished. What remained was a sense of sufficiency and a deep thirst. Ian’s lips, Ian’s saliva, Ian’s breath. The fact that all of this was being given to him, and only to save him, was driving him mad.
His intact right hand slowly rose and slipped inside Ian’s T shirt.
“Hng…!”
Ian flinched and tried to pull away, but Vermouth had no intention of letting go. He sprang up from his position and pushed Ian beneath him. Then, pinning him down with his body, he continued the kiss.
Because of that, Ian’s face was dyed a bright red.
This was not a treatment. It was a meal for a hungry beast.
Vermouth took advantage of the weakness that Ian could not make a sound and violated him to his heart’s content. He swept through every corner of the mouth and sucked even at the root of the tongue. A hot palm traveled up Ian’s spine and fumbled over his bare skin.
Thud.
Just then, the sound of something falling came from the living room.
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