The morning air was crisp as we arrived at the small dirt road where the merchant was waiting. The carriage was simple — wooden wheels, worn but sturdy. At the front, the merchant sat on the driver's bench, legs swinging slightly as he looked over the packed goods behind him. Boxes of various sizes, crates filled with fruits, dried meats, and some cloth, were stacked neatly on the back of the carriage.
"Hmm, are you two taking the quest?" the merchant asked as he noticed us approaching.
"Good morning, sir," I replied, bowing slightly. "We're adventurers, and yes, we're here to guard you to your destination."
The merchant squinted at us, then smiled. "Huh… you two look strong. Alright, I'll leave the rest to you."
"You can sit inside the carriage," he continued. "But stay alert. There's always a chance that monsters or bandits will show up along the way."
"Alright, don't worry, sir. We'll protect you," I assured him.
Dravic stepped forward first, his hand extended to help me onto the carriage. I climbed up slowly, sitting just in front of him. He leaned back slightly, a protective presence right behind me. Around us were the stacks of boxes and crates — fruits, dried meats, cloths, and various other goods that the merchant intended to sell at the next town.
The road ahead was quiet for now, but the forest on either side looked dense and shadowed, whispering possibilities of danger. I glanced at Dravic, who gave a small, confident smile.
Dravic was beside me, his presence calm but sharp, always scanning the road ahead. I could feel his gaze on me more than once, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips.
"This trip might be a good opportunity to try the other place," he said suddenly, a playful tone in his voice as he glanced at me.
"W-what do you mean?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat at his words.
He let his eyes linger on me a moment before returning his gaze to mine, a small smile curving his lips. Then his hand reached out and gently touched my face.
"Do you want to do it here, Renji?" he asked, his voice low, teasing.
I froze, my eyes widening. "W-what are you talking about? There are adventurers walking on the road—they'll see us!" I whispered, panic creeping in.
Dravic chuckled softly, leaning closer. "See us? Don't worry about that," he said, brushing his fingers down my cheek. "I already cast a barrier around this carriage. No one will disturb our trip… not a single soul."
My mind went blank for a moment, the tension in my chest tightening. I realized then that the world outside couldn't touch us. My heartbeat thundered as I tried to form words, but all I could do was glance at him, nervous and unsure.
But my mind wouldn't stay quiet.
Even though we keep doing it again and again… no matter how many times, my body never gets used to it.
The thought slipped in uninvited, heavy and honest.
They cast that spell on me—to keep it tight, always ready for him. So every single time he pushes in, it still burns like the first night. The stretch, the sting, the way I have to fight to take him even after hours of fingers and everything else. I still struggle. I still whimper and claw and beg him to slow down… and he just groans like it's the best thing he's ever felt.
I clenched my fists at my sides, cheeks heating as the memories flooded back: the way my walls always resist at first, clenching hard around the head like they want to push him out, even as my hips tilt up to meet him. The sharp ache that blooms into overwhelming heat. The tears that slip out when he goes deeper than I think I can handle. And every time—every damn time—I end up moaning his name through the pain, coming harder than I ever thought possible because of it.
Dravic glanced sideways at me, smile sharpening like he could read every word in my head.
"Thinking loud again," he said under his breath.
I flinched—caught—and quickened my pace, trying to put a sliver of distance between us.
He caught up in two steps, matching me effortlessly, pinky hooking mine for half a second before letting go.
"You know," he continued, voice low and teasing, "the spell isn't just for me. It's so you feel every inch… every time… like it's the first time. Over and over."
My stomach flipped. My hole gave a traitorous little flutter at his words—still sensitive, still remembering.
"That's cruel," I muttered.
He laughed—quiet, dark. "Maybe. But you come harder every time because of it. Don't lie."
I didn't answer. Couldn't.
Because he was right.
The trail opened into denser forest ahead. Sunlight dappled the dirt path in shifting patches. I focused on the hunt—anything to push the thought away—but it lingered, quiet and relentless:
No matter how many times… it still hurts. And I still let him.
And a small, traitorous part of me wondered how many more nights it would take before my body finally stopped fighting… or if it ever would.