The press of their lips was an entirely new sensation. The skin, so thin the color of the blood beneath was almost visible, was soft and moist. But unlike his usual bold advances, this time, D’Élysée was the one who pulled back, startled.

His pulse was rioting. It felt as if his heart had relocated to the inside of his mouth. A mere touch, a simple press and release, yet his lips burned as if they’d been seared with hot coals.

In response to the brief kiss, Egru simply offered a guileless smile. He had likely interpreted it as a mere sign of gratitude, or perhaps he was just relieved that D’Élysée was no longer in such an intimate position.

When you smile like that…

The face of the Sword Saint, a man who remained impassive even on the most brutal of battlefields, instantly flushed. A deep blush colored his cheeks, and a soft light shone in his eyes. He looked, for all the world, like a boy who had just fallen in love—an unbelievable sight for a man who once commanded holy knights on the blood-soaked front lines.

I’m sure I used to kiss his lips often when we were little…

How had he ever done it? Was it because his mindset was different then? The pounding in his chest threatened to shatter his entire being. Back then, it had been a way to confirm his brother’s abundant affection. Now…

The chain of thought took less than a few seconds.

Without another moment of hesitation, D’Élysée kissed Egru again. This time, it was incomparably deep and intense, a kiss that craved not just his lips, but his entire being. As the tip of a warm tongue invaded his mouth, Egru went rigid as a statue. He still didn’t seem to fully comprehend what was happening, his expression one of utter disbelief, like a scholar who had just discovered the platypus.

“Mmph, mmmph…”

Egru reflexively twisted his head, the fleshy intrusion filling his small mouth seeming to overwhelm him. D’Élysée cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer, while his other hand caressed his cheek, tilting his head at a better angle.

“Hah, hyung…”

“Ngh!”

He took a sharp breath and then immediately devoured his lips once more.

With every slide and mix of their slick saliva, a tingling ache bloomed low in his belly. Was it the lack of oxygen? He felt a dizzying sense of euphoria. Schlick, slurp. As the lewd, wet sounds passed between them, D’Élysée’s hand began to drift downward. It traced the slender column of his throat before slipping stealthily beneath the collar of his robe.

At the feeling of fingers brushing the sensitive nape of his neck, Egru shoved D’Élysée away with a jolt. But instead of escaping, he found himself cornered against the carriage wall.

“Nghh…!”

Egru pushed desperately against D’Élysée’s encroaching form. The heavy body was so close it was becoming difficult to breathe. Ignoring the frantic resistance, D’Élysée slid his hand down along his neckline. The slight back, felt through the thin fabric, was smooth and warm, yet so lean he could count each vertebra. Every time he stroked the tense skin, as if to soothe it, his brother’s shoulder blades would flinch and tremble.

Gulp. D’Élysée swallowed all of the saliva that had pooled between them, a sweet, addictive taste like a wild red flower from his memory. He and his brother used to snap off the flower heads and suck the nectar from the stems, which tasted of faint honey. But then, as now, the amount was never enough.

If he grew impatient and chewed on the red wildflower, all that was left was a bitter taste. Greed would only spoil the palate. You can’t pick them all at once, his brother used to tell him in that soft voice. It was so they could save some for next time, and share with others. D’Élysée had always nodded obediently, though he didn’t care if he left a trail of decapitated flowers in his wake. His brother’s goodness, his genuine belief that they should both exercise restraint and share, wasn’t so bad.

The next time they visited the patch of wildflowers, it was, as expected, a mess. Standing over the pile of trampled petals, his brother had whimpered an apology, assuming some greedy children had followed their tracks and ravaged the place.

“It’s okay, hyung,” D’Élysée had replied, and he had meant it. After all, he was the one who had destroyed the flower patch, all to teach him that there was no need to care for others.

“Nngh, mmph…!”

Suddenly, the carriage jolted up and then slammed back down. D’Élysée held the struggling Egru even tighter, their ragged breaths mixing in a sound that thrilled him to his core. Suck, slurp, schlick. He latched onto the base of Egru’s tongue like a beast suckling at a teat.

D’Élysée looked down into the hazy, unfocused amber eyes. The desire he had long suppressed was finally, completely, being sated.

Knock, knock.

A rap sounded from the small window connecting to the driver’s box. “Are you alright in there? The carriage shook for a moment when we hit a stone.”

“We’re fine,” D’Élysée replied, his voice perfectly even. Unlike Egru, who was panting for air, his own breathing was unshaken.

“Very good, sir. I shall be more careful.”

At the calm response, the knight’s voice retreated.

Thump, slam! In the next instant, the carriage door flew open and was slammed shut. D’Élysée had managed to stop Egru just as he tried to flee the moving vehicle.

“That’s dangerous, hyung. First, calm down and listen to what I have to… “

“Ugh…!”

Egru violently shook off the hand that grabbed his wrist. His face was a mask of fury D’Élysée had never seen before. “Wh-Why did you do that…?”

But just as quickly, the anger faded, replaced by a confusion that sent tears streaming down his face. Egru touched his own lips, his gaze dropping blankly. His watery amber eyes trembled. “H-How could you…”

“Hyung, we’re family.”

“N-No. The first one… th-they said you’re supposed to do it with your l-lover…”

D’Élysée felt the blood run cold in his veins. His plan to coax his innocent hyung and smooth things over evaporated, his mind wiped clean. The blank slate was instantly filled with an explosion of guilt.

I thought he was completely ignorant about this sort of thing…

He’d never imagined Egru would know about the concept of a “first kiss.” And he certainly hadn’t expected him to attach such profound meaning to it. Seeing his brother was on the verge of a complete breakdown, D’Élysée quickly pulled him into a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I was wrong.”

“Hic, sob…”

“It was my first time, too. Does that… make you feel any better?”

But the thought that he had now stolen his younger brother’s first kiss only made Egru begin to cry even more wretchedly. As D’Élysée tried to comfort him, he cursed himself. A secret, shameful joy was blooming in his chest at the thought that he had taken his brother’s first.

“I-If we’re family, then it doesn’t count as a first kiss, right?”

“No, it counts. You’ve had your first kiss now, hyung. There’s no taking it back.”

His firm declaration only made Egru whimper again. “This is a disaster. What if I never get a lover my whole life? N-No one will ever like me now, they’ll think I’m dirty…”

“What are you talking about? Who told you that?”

Lost in his own tearful misery, Egru couldn’t answer. “I-I want a lover, too. Not a lot, like Levian, just one would be enough…”

It was a memory from long ago. When passing through the plazas in the capital, he would often see couples kissing in secluded corners as if they were trying to devour each other. Egru would always duck his head, ears burning, and hurry away.

.

.

.

“Fucking noisy, the way they suck face,” Levian would sneer, dismissing them as animals in heat. But secretly, Egru had envied them. The fact that someone could have a person who was their one and only seemed incredibly noble.

“L-Levian. Do you have lots of lovers?”

“Yeah, I do,” Levian had boasted. He often bragged about them, which only made Egru more curious about that kind of life.

“How many?”

“Until you’re all grown up, five.” Levian sighed, looking down at his own large hand. The gaze he cast upon his five fingers, each adorned with a heavy ring, was desolate and lonely.

“Then do you do… that kind of thing?”

“What, you want to try kissing, too?”

“N-No.”

“Good. Don’t even think about it right now, you hear?” Levian had sneered, his already intimidating face twisting. “That’s something you only ever do with a lover. If you don’t, you’ll be branded as unclean…”

.

.

.

“Hyung.”

D’Élysée’s voice cut through the memory of Levian’s warning. The hand that gently wiped his wet cheeks with its thumb was surprisingly tender. “Is that what Levian told you? That if you kissed someone who wasn’t your lover, no one would ever like you?”

“…”

At Egru’s slow nod, D’Élysée swallowed the curse that had risen to the back of his throat. He then forced a deeply affectionate smile and whispered.

“Well then.” A crisis was also an opportunity. “How about we pretend to be lovers, just for a little while? That would solve everything, wouldn’t it, hyung?”