Page 5 of Doubts of the Egoist
Not giving an answer, Kuon sat up and tried to shake offhis grip. Sensing the rapid drumming in his fingertips, Yugo held tighter.
“Tell me.” Lowering his voice, he intoned the name like an order, “Kuon…”
“I can’t see fucking shit.” The words rushed out of Kuon’s mouth, then he grimaced. “I hate chains. I don’t have good memories of them, so even if I try, I can’t relax. I don’t know what to expect—pain, pleasure, humiliation, or whatever else crosses your mind. I can’t do this right now. I don’t think I want to do this at all.”
The realization that not only his appearance had changed stunned Yugo.
Seeing Kuon’s fear was no longer fun, and for the first time since their reunion, he was forced to recognize the extent of the loss Kuon’s disability caused. There would be no more sparring sessions or fights. Sex wouldn’t be as kinky or rough because any excessive physical activity could cause corneal rejection. The things he’d enjoyed doing with Kuon were left in the past and would remain there for at least two years, perhaps forever.
Frail…The ill-fitting word stuck on his tongue as he looked at the white eye shields on the equally white face. Without seeing those eyes, he couldn’t tell if the challenging look he loved the most remained or had been lost to the past. If so, he would hate it.
Throat tight, he croaked, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I… got excited to have you here with me.”
Kuon cringed as if hearing those words was as painful for him as it was for Yugo to say them. He pulled his wrist free and rubbed the spot where Yugo’s thumb had bruised his skin.“Don’t look at me like that, or I’ll punch you.”
Yugo snorted, although he didn’t feel a shred of amusement. “How do you know how I look at you? You said you don’t see shit.”
“I feel it,” Kuon hissed through clenched teeth. “Let’s make something clear. I’m not asking you to be gentle or to change your preferences. Just… don’t push me until I can see again. When I’m healed, I’ll play with you however you want. Willingly. With verbal consent, if you know what that is.”
Suspicion crept into Yugo’s tone. “Is that a promise?”
“It is, but if I hate it, I’ll kick your ass.” Kuon turned his face, giving the illusion that he was watching him from behind the shields. His growing grin made the corners of Yugo’s lips curl up in response.
“Deal!”
Yugo leaned in to seal the bargain with a kiss, but Kuon turned his face to avoid the touch. “Until then, why don’t you play by my rules? Blindfold yourself.”
CHAPTER 2
“Hmm…” Yugo tiltedhis head, wondering if that was a joke. The idea hardly amused him, but the memory of his former captive taking the lead in the bathroom two years ago, pushing him down to the floor andwillinglykissing his body, flashed before his eyes. It was one of the most cherished memories he hadrevisitedduring the long, cold nights, but however bright it had been, it faded with time. Kuon’s request contradicted his goal to see everything up close, but curiosity won. “Alright…”
He rolled off the bed and strolled to the dark wooden dresser drawer to retrieve a black tie. The mattress sagged under his knee as he returned to the bed and sat on the edge at Kuon’s side, one foot still on the floor and the other tucked under him. He blindfolded himself. Colors died; so did the light. Through the brief confusion, his other senses broke through. He blinked, adjusting to the pressure of the tie over his eyes, then found Kuon’s hands and brought them to his own face.
“Happy now?” He dragged his tongue over the heel of the trapped palm, nibbled at its edge. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Uh-huh…” A whiff of warm air washed over the backs of Yugo’s hands. Kuon’s fingers tentatively cupped his face, outlined his forehead, slid down to his eyes, but they didn’t stay on the blindfold for long. Tracing Yugo’s features, he examined his cheekbones and nose, then lingered on the firm line of his mouth as if trying toseeit.
Yugo held his breath as the feathery touch became ticklish.
For fuck’s sake, I want to see you…He already missed his sight, but instead of yanking the blindfold off, he ran his hands along Kuon’s arms, obedient to the rules.
Kuon didn’t resist when Yugo pressed on his shoulders to lay him down and ghosted his hands over the broad chest, counting every muscle groove, memorizing the imperfections of his skin. In the dark, the touch felt different, more intimate. His nerves lit up as his sensitivity spiked.
A bullet scar below Kuon’s right collarbone resembled a shallow crater. A thin raised line stretched from his right flank to his lower abdomen. A web-like scar rippled the skin on his left side, above the hip. They all felt horribly raw to his touch. Warm too.
Yugo loathed them all because their existence made the man beneath him feel unfamiliar. He bit back a bitter smirk, realizing he had no idea how Kuon had earned most of his scars. He’d never asked. In his heart, he kept denying their existence because each one could have robbed him of Kuon and the future they had together. Each one was a striking demonstration of his stupidity.
I never should have let you go. I won’t make that mistake again…
Refusing to let regret and anger corrode his mind, he pushed his hands under Kuon’s hips, hooked his fingers into the waistband of his jeans, and peeled them off along with his underwear. Kuon’s knees bent as he lifted his hips to help, brushing his thigh against Yugo’s forearm, sparking anticipation.
Yugo hummed as the game started growing on him, both exciting and annoying at once.
Kuon’s hips burnedwhere the fabric had grazed his skin. Those cold hands, so skilled at inflicting pleasure and pain, felt strangely clumsy as they explored his body. They often paused to inspect tiny blemishes instead of concentrating on pleasure points. That was distracting. He tried to relax and enjoy but couldn’t. He hated to admit it, but Yugo’s violence, scent, and the musky taste of his cock had unleashed dark emotions in him, demanding release.
Dormant memories of this place, which he’d never wanted to remember, unraveled in his mind’s eye, dragging him into a semi-trance.
The wolf pelt lay sprawled across the floor in front of the hearth, its hollow paws outstretched and yellow eyes reflecting the flames. Heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight, but they let in just enough to make the crystal drops of the chandelier flare with color and cast iridescent flecks on the dark hardwood floor. The massive bed, where he had been humiliated countless times, loomed ominously, its metal chains coiled around the pillars. Silent witnesses to his disgrace, the tall mirrors multiplied reflections of the silk-draped ‘altar’ of pain and pleasure.
