HPV 77

It was difficult to climax alone.

Only after rubbing so hard that his palm was almost blistered did he barely manage to grab the tail end of his release.

If Riarun were to appear before him right now, he felt he could spill everything just from the visual stimulation of seeing his face.

As though committing the worst of sins, yet drowning in an ecstasy greater than guilt, he dared to whisper,

“Riarun…”

The moment he let the name linger in his mouth, thick semen poured out.

Meanwhile, Riarun was running through the snow with the others.

Though Paronai had offered to carry him on his back, Riarun refused with a grim expression.

But soon, realizing he was too slow, he leapt onto the hero’s back.

‘What’s different from the original that the resonator is affecting him? If that’s the case, does it mean Banwes right now is weaker than he was in the original…?’

As he thought that far, Riarun came to a completely new hypothesis.

Banwes’ ability—an ability he intensely avoided—but one absolutely necessary to subjugate the Black Dragon.

‘Berserk mode… Banwes hasn’t triggered it yet, unlike in the original.’

The forced transformation from the weapon—in a way, it was the same as berserk mode.

Halfway through, while running alongside them, Penzey suddenly let out a surprised sound,

“Huh?”

Drawing everyone’s attention. The miasma leaking from the outpost had suddenly disappeared.

“What a relief! He fought it off by himself!”

Paronai shouted joyfully, but Riarun couldn’t quite relax.

He bit his lower lip hard.

‘He must’ve injured himself to forcibly wake up.’

Though it was fortunate that he had managed to seize the trigger for berserk mode, Riarun felt a deep pity.

Wasn’t there another way? He had to treat him immediately. Riarun urged Paronai to run faster.

Paronai sprinted at full speed, so fast even Penzey couldn’t keep up, and reached the outpost first.

“Banwes! Open the door!”

The door, barred from inside, didn’t open easily. Had he been too gravely injured? Had the miasma half consumed him? Had his appearance changed even slightly?

Negative thoughts raced through his mind.

After a short while, the man inside finally emerged.

The white mucus trickling down his chest and chin… had all been wiped away, and his member was properly tucked back into his clothes.

To Riarun’s eyes, he surprisingly looked quite fine. No visible injuries.

‘Self-healing…? No, it’s impossible in such a short time. Was the injury minor?If so, that’s a relief…’

But Banwes’ face was guilty, far from composed.

Maybe the weapon’s aftereffects hadn’t completely faded.

Riarun cautiously spoke to him.

“You worked hard.”

Banwes gave no reply.

Blinking up at him, Riarun then asked about the clothes he had borrowed.

“What about the clothes I lent you…?”

“I think… I must have torn them apart when I lost my senses.”

“Oh, that’s fine.”

He absolutely couldn’t tell him. How, under what circumstances, those clothes had to be discreetly thrown away. Even if Riarun found out, he probably would’ve accepted it as ‘still better than self-harm.’

***

After that, the monsters’ momentum weakened considerably.

There was no longer any need to use the risky resonator.

Banwes returned to Riarun’s side.

He quietly lived as a guest again at Gerenique Castle, sharing a room.

The guilt of what he had done alone hadn’t yet faded, and the second night arrived without fail.

Darkness, as thick as death, filled the room. Everything outside was silent, as if all were asleep. Yet at some point, the man’s shadow silently stirred.

“……”

From within the round mound of blankets, Riarun also slowly raised his upper body.

After all, Banwes had deliberately made noise to be noticed.

Understanding, Riarun slipped out of the blanket.

First, his head peeked out, then his pale bare feet slid down to the floor.

Neither said a word.

But it was as if it had been agreed upon beforehand.

When Banwes removed his shirt first, Riarun followed suit.

Only the faint sounds of clothes slipping off echoed in the dark.

They intended to transfer the demon before pain could seize Riarun, so he wouldn’t suffer as he had before.

The time to transfer the demon had come—right here, in the middle of Gerenique Castle.

Banwes’ stiff expression made it hard to read his thoughts.

Riarun grew worried, seeing how dark his face looked, ever since they had returned from the abandoned outpost.

Whether he knew of Riarun’s concern or not, Banwes removed his pants and was completely naked.

Riarun, shyly, followed.

He hesitated while hooking his fingers into his undergarments, but eventually slid them down to his knees.

Neither spoke hastily.

In truth, Riarun felt unbearably awkward.

Suppressing his embarrassment, he bravely looked up at Banwes.

“I need to ask you something. We can’t dirty the blankets or clothes.”

This wasn’t a place they could simply stay and leave. Everything needed to be done with utmost care.

How many here, in this castle meant to block monster movements, had hearing sharper than any beast?

They memorized the faces of every servant who passed through.

They managed every scrap of supplies. Even losing a single bedsheet could raise suspicion. Even the disappearance of one piece of clothing might be quickly noticed.

For the same reason, doing it on the bed was also forbidden. He was afraid they might break the bed.

Even in that luxurious mansion back then, by the end, the bed had started to creak and groan.

‘If anything seems suspicious, it’s over.’

The fact that they hadn’t been caught at the mansion was a miracle.

Back then, they hadn’t even had time to prepare mentally. They didn’t know what would happen next. It had been a half-mad rush of pleasure.

Riarun took out a small object from his luggage. A sound-blocking artifact. Its effectiveness was guaranteed—it had perfectly isolated him and Banwes from the others when they spoke in private.

Come to think of it, Penzey had never asked for it back afterward. Even Riarun, who had borrowed it, had half-forgotten about it.

Penzey was not the kind of person to carelessly forget his belongings. Why hadn’t he retrieved it?

‘…Wily mage.’

Banwes was staring at him without looking away for a second. His gaze was almost rude in its persistence. It felt as if he were being touched all over just by being looked at.

It was one thing to strip each other wildly in the heat of the moment, but to calmly, while fully conscious, strip naked and face each other—it was unbearably awkward.

He couldn’t let anything seep into the floor, either.

Riarun decided to sacrifice just one piece of clothing. He laid down an old, worn-out cloak, too shabby to use anymore.

He would mount Banwes and insert himself. Once again, he was trying to deceive the demon and survive.

Banwes, completely naked, sat down on the cloak. Riarun stared blankly at the spot where he was supposed to sit.

Even if he sat on Banwes’ thigh…it was too close.

His buttocks would be right above that thick member, so large it seemed ready to surge upward at any moment.

“We’re not supposed to do it this time…”

A dazed mutter escaped from Riarun’s lips.

At that moment, the man felt a new emotion toward the nervous, bare Riarun. He wanted Riarun to blush even more. He wanted him to be so flustered he couldn’t even meet his gaze. He had never imagined he would one day ask such mischievous questions.

“What exactly are we not supposed to do?”

“…Move,” Riarun mumbled, barely audible.

Behind those uncertain words, Banwes deliberately pointed out the contradiction.

“If we don’t move, the blankets and clothes wouldn’t get dirty in the first place.”

It took Riarun a while to realize the meaning.

When he did, his face and the nape of his neck flushed deep red.

Banwes’ eyes widened slightly, as if hurriedly trying to capture that ripening color—like fruit on the verge of ripening.

Riarun thought about how he should sit. Facing him? Or with his back against Banwes’ chest? He imagined leaning against Banwes’ chest—and how that would look from the opposite side.

His legs spread wide open, fully exposing the part where Banwes’ thing would be buried inside him.

Just imagining it made his shame soar uncontrollably. Rather than spread his legs wide against a wall, it seemed better to wrap them around Banwes’ body.

Either way, it was a shameful posture—he could only settle for the lesser humiliation.

Banwes didn’t blink. He stared fixedly as the pale, naked figure approached and lowered itself slowly onto him.

Riarun’s fair buttocks pressed against Banwes’ thick thighs, the flesh spreading slightly from the weight.

“Ugh.”

Riarun shuddered and his eyelids fluttered.

Technically, the position wasn’t so different from what they’d done back in the ice cave.

They had clung together, almost naked, even then. But the atmosphere now was completely different.

Back then, had he ever imagined a scene like this would happen between them? He didn’t fully sit down.

Instead, he knelt, lifting his body slightly off the ground. Banwes’ hand reached slowly between his legs.

The sensation of another’s hand entering that hidden place—he didn’t think he would ever get used to it.

“Ahh—”

Fingers spread the tightly closed folds and slid inside.