Eden used one hand to slowly caress him from his chest down across his abdomen and sides while stripping off the condom with the other. Somerset took the condom now generously filled with semen. At some point, he seemed to have become completely alert again, his eyes sparkling brightly. The disconnect between his innocent expression and behavior stirred up filthy thoughts.
“It stretched out so much.”
He played with the drooping condom heavy with semen like it was a water balloon. Embarrassed, Eden bit down on his lip while quickly putting on a new condom. His cock, recovering at an unbelievable speed for someone who had just climaxed, was already hard again as though it might burst. The wet hole spreading open and twitching welcomed it.
This time, he crashed over Somerset like a wave. At first, it only dampened his feet gently, but before he knew it, the water had reached his ankles, and just as he thought it would stop at his knees, it swallowed him whole at a terrifying height. Somerset writhed helplessly as though struggling against rough currents.
“Hah— ngh, ah.”
By the time he reached orgasm, he was clinging tightly to Eden, leaving his cock in Eden’s hand. As the frantic movements gradually faded away with the retreating wave, an afterglow remained behind.
Warm and damp.
As Somerset’s solid embrace slowly loosened, Eden quietly lifted his upper body and looked down at him. Trapping every sensation within the boundaries of satisfaction, Somerset looked like a predator successful in its hunt. His amber eyes gleamed through the shadows gathered beneath his eyeholes, and the way he swallowed thick breaths looked savage. His breathing was low, almost like the cry of a beast.
A naïve smile rose to the corners of his mouth, glutted with heat. Only then did Eden pull out his still-erect cock, strip off the condom, and stroke himself rapidly. Soon, he came across Somerset’s chest and abdomen.
What a flood.
That straightforward impression marked the end of it. His strength drained away, and he collapsed beside Somerset. As though waiting for him to do exactly that, Somerset turned toward Eden and asked,
“Is it always this good the first time?”
Truthfully, neither of them knew much since they were both inexperienced, but Eden nodded without hesitation.
Because his own first time had also been insanely good.
Their still-hot breaths gathered like steam, thickening the humidity in the room. Heavy and damp. Eden parted his lips slightly and stuck out his tongue, trying to taste the air. But what he actually licked was Somerset’s soft skin. He dragged his tongue across his cheek and jaw.
Eden came downstairs to the first floor and wandered around before spotting Emma. She had sensed his presence at the same moment, so their eyes immediately met.
“Mr. Reed. Is there something you need?”
At her polite greeting, Eden awkwardly stretched his lips into a smile. Because he was wearing Somerset’s clothes, he became conscious of Emma’s gaze. Of all people, she had been the one to welcome him during his sudden early morning visit, so she would obviously notice the change in clothing.
But his worry was unnecessary. As an experienced servant, she knew exactly when to close her eyes to something. She also had a talent for reading what people wanted.
“Did the conversation go well? Shall I prepare a meal for you?”
Thanks to that, Eden was spared the trouble of bringing it up himself. He answered yes to Emma’s question and waited in one corner of the dining room. They had cleaned the room roughly, but it still wasn’t in a condition fit to show anyone, so he intended to bring the food up himself.
Pretending not to notice someone who drew attention even while standing still—as though he were simply part of the air—was also Emma’s form of consideration.
Before long, lunch for two was prepared on a large tray. As Eden accepted it from her, he made one request.
He asked her to leave the blanket washing to him.
“The blankets? That’s our job. Shall we go replace the bedding now?”
“I’m the one who got something on them. I’ll take them home and wash them myself. Just change the bedding later. Not right now.”
“You’re going to take the blankets home to wash them yourself? There’s really no need…”
“I’m the type who can’t relax unless I handle the mess I made personally. Sorry for forcing the issue.”
Gathering together the scraps of his weak social skills, he tried to persuade Emma. Every word sounded flimsy and suspicious. Sure enough, she didn’t look convinced in the slightest.
Still, she granted his request.
“All right. I’ll tell you the washing instructions before you leave. And there’s no need to apologize.”
Even if she had roughly figured out what happened in the room, Eden would still stick to his decision. He didn’t like the thought of leaving the filthy, thoroughly soiled blankets to someone else.
After greeting her, he headed off. While climbing the stairs, a servant he encountered tried to carry the tray for him, but Emma stopped them. She silently followed behind Eden for a moment, then gave a slight bow before disappearing together with the servant.
When he arrived at the door carrying the meal, Somerset called from inside, asking who it was.
“It’s me.”
Instead of saying his name, Eden identified himself by voice alone. The door opened, and Somerset poked his face out through the gap.
“Do you know you don’t make any footsteps? I had no idea you were close until I heard the dishes. I was even pressing my ear against the door trying to prank you.”
“Really?”
Eden responded blandly to the way Somerset stared at him with fascination, as though watching a magic show. Since he had grown up under parents accustomed to hiding their presence, it was simply a habit he had naturally acquired and didn’t consider special.
Rather, what felt more unfamiliar was Somerset waiting at the door just to play a trivial prank, or trying to take the tray from the man who had been holding him moments earlier.
“I’ll do it. Is your body okay?”
At the gentle question, Somerset tilted his head diagonally with an ambiguous smile.
“I’m not walking weird or anything, but… hmm, this thought keeps coming to me. I should’ve let you wash me when you offered.”
He shook out his damp hair before throwing himself onto the sofa. Eden set the tray on the table and sat at Somerset’s feet. When he touched his soft, dry feet, Somerset kicked lightly.
It was a relief he still had the energy to joke around. Still, Eden thought he should give him a massage either before or after eating.
“Do you regret it?”
“Yeah. I made the wrong choice when you carried me and lowered me into the bathtub. The way the warm water wrapped around my body felt so good. I thought it shouldn’t get any better than that.”
“Why not?”
“That’s a secret.”
After resting a bit, his voice had grown lower. Muttering softly, Somerset crooked a finger for Eden to come closer. The sofa was large enough for two grown men to lie on.
Provided they half-overlapped.
Eden squeezed himself down beside him. Sandwiched between the backrest and Somerset’s solid body, he felt slightly compressed, but the pressure was oddly comfortable. Somerset wrapped his arms around Eden face-to-face, resting his lips near his shoulder as he whispered,
“You begged me to let you do just that while touching my ass. Washing inside my hole.”
Eden remembered the liquid clouding the bathwater. The water had splashed violently while he touched beneath Somerset, who had been sitting there with his legs spread.
“You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
“If you liked it, you should’ve asked for more. Use me as much as you want.”
“No.”
“Why?”
The question circled endlessly in place. Somerset teased him as though he might answer, then suddenly lifted his head and acted cute with his expression. Eden became entranced by the habitual wink he threw him and ended up letting Somerset slip out of his arms.
Somerset sat up and examined the food. Ignoring the prepared appetizers, he started cutting into the appetizing steak first while patting the seat beside him.
A gesture telling him to come sit there.
“Is it because I’m the only one who knows the secret?”
Eden had delayed because he’d been distracted following the broad back wrapped in a white robe with his eyes, and Somerset apparently misunderstood, turning back to ask him. Eden shook his head.
“No. I do want to know, but I wasn’t protesting.”
“I think you were.”
He beckoned him over again.
“I wanted to save it for next time.”
Listening carefully, Eden moved over and sat beside him. Somerset speared a bite-sized piece of steak with his fork and continued,
“I’m the type who eats the thing that looks best first, but it felt so good that I still thought that.”
He had boldly given up immediate pleasure and chosen the anticipation of waiting instead.
“Take good care of me next time too.”
As if making a promise, Somerset clenched his fist. Eden made a fist too and bumped it against his.
“Yeah.”
To Eden, there was no clearer expression of intent than promising a next time. There had already been too many first experiences packed into a single day for him to say I love you, so he pushed the words aside for later.
The complacent belief that it was fine because there would be a next time—was also a painfully grave mistake.
***
That day, Eden gave Somerset the rest of his phone number, and later received a message from him.
Somerset Quinn
[Invitation: Inviting Eden Reed to Somerset Quinn’s house
Required item: A boring book
Date: Tomorrow]
Faithful to the instructions, Eden brought two books densely packed with tiny text and accepted the invitation. Somerset welcomed him warmly, took the books from him, and guided him to the backyard.
The garden itself was luxurious simply by existing on such expensive land in the Upper East Side. One section of the neatly maintained lawn had been arranged with the atmosphere of an outing.
Somerset explained that he had recreated their memories from Central Park.
A parasol subtly shielding them from the sun without blocking too much light. A luxurious mat large enough to roll around on. Snacks and drinks tucked inside a basket. Music somewhere nearby perfectly matching Eden’s tastes. And replacing the cheap gossip magazines, two books—one written by a renowned philosopher, the other by an author whose works outside the mystery genre had all failed disastrously.
Sitting on the mat, Eden looked up at Somerset and asked,
“But why did the books have to be boring?”
“Because if the book’s interesting, you won’t look at me.”
The adorable answer made him smile. Somerset immediately lay down, resting his head on Eden’s thigh as he selected one of the books.
It was a philosophy book thick as a brick.
Even after opening it, he failed to turn a single page because he was too busy fooling around instead. He fiddled with Eden’s knee, poked at his side with his fingertips, then suddenly complained his hands were uncomfortable and asked Eden to feed him bread.
Tearing off a piece of bread, Eden teased him while Somerset opened his mouth like a baby bird. He waved his hand teasingly in the air as though he might give it to him or might not, and Somerset transformed into a starving beast, snatching the bread away and devouring it.
Cute playfulness and wild charm coexisted within him.
Being with Somerset was fun. Every one of Eden’s senses focused entirely on him, and his head became so full of Somerset that he couldn’t think of anything else. The corners of his lips curled upward so often that he found himself wondering whether he had always smiled this much.
Without much thought, he found the answer.
This summer is my first. You are my first.
Somerset filled Eden’s once colorless summer with freshness and life. Naturally, he found himself wishing to spend every single day with him.
The next day, they washed a dark green car with such terrible taste that it was almost questionable. There was already a servant assigned to maintain the vehicle, but Somerset had suggested turning it into a water fight because the weather was hot.
And naturally, the man holding the hose started causing trouble.
Emma handed another hose to Eden as he wrung out the hem of his completely soaked navy T-shirt. She had originally come to ask what kind of snacks they wanted, only to forget her duties and interfere instead.
“This is thrilling.”
Having found something entertaining to watch, she safely hid behind the garage wall and peeked out from behind the window. Emily stood beside her, also watching the showdown between the two men.
The hose Somerset held was long but weak in water pressure. Eden’s, meanwhile, was short enough to limit movement but compensated for it with strong force.
Somerset struck first, running around wildly and spraying water everywhere. It was an attack style specialized in provoking his opponent. Eden silently watched him before turning the tide with his exceptional aim.
“Aagh!”
