Little Pink Starfish

“Didn’t you leave the oil in the bedchamber? I took it out… and loosened myself with my fingers.”

The words slipped out without thinking, and Ishar felt a flush of shame as he realized how earnestly he’d answered, driven by sheer desire.

“You mean you put your own fingers in here?”

Veloan’s fingers, still slick with the oil lingering inside, rubbed at Ishar’s entrance. The subtle pressure at the tip of his finger, as though he might push in at any moment, made Ishar instinctively tense.

But Veloan only traced the folds, as if counting them with his fingertips, never entering—only teasing. That absence made Ishar burn even more, and he nodded.

“How many did you use?”

The bluntness of the question wasn’t innocent—it was intentional—but Ishar, bewitched by the crimson eyes laced with quiet yearning, found himself speaking without hesitation.

“Four…”

“Did it hurt?”

“It did, at first… but I was fine.”

“You did it while thinking of me?”

“Veloan…”

His cheeks flushed at the ever-deepening questions. Then Veloan pressed their lips together with a teasing “Hm?” as if coaxing the truth from him. Like a child caught playing tricks.

“…Who else would I think of, if not you?”

It wasn’t flattery meant to please. Thinking back, Ishar had never felt desire for anyone other than the partner before him—not just desire, but love, too.

If not for Veloan, I probably would never have known love. I wouldn’t have even realized that just seeing someone, just knowing I’m wanted by someone, could be enough to let me breathe.

But these thoughts, he kept to himself. He knew Veloan would be overjoyed to hear them—so much so that he might cry.

It was something he’d come to understand during their time together: Veloan shed tears when overwhelmed by joy. Specifically, when he realized Ishar loved him deeply—loved him to the point of no return.

“―!”

Suddenly, Ishar’s vision shifted sharply.

It took a moment for him to realize he was now cradled in Veloan’s arms like a princess. Confused, he looked up at him.

Their eyes met, and the one more beautiful than any flower in the magical garden spoke.

“The truth is… I was very heartbroken. I thought we might share even a little bloodline, but to find that we didn’t… it made me so sad I nearly cried. So please, I want you to comfort me.”

You really don’t look like you’re crying, though. That retort nearly escaped, but Ishar swallowed it down and stayed silent.

Veloan took advantage of that silence and began to walk, briskly and without hesitation. He didn’t need to go far.

At the heart of the magical garden was a small dome carved thin from crystal. There, he laid Ishar down on a couch, then leaned in, pressing his weight over him.

“I believe you’ll comfort me. Won’t you, Ishar?”

“…You don’t look like you need it.”

Despite the reluctant words, Ishar made no move to stop Veloan’s hurried hands from undressing him. When his underwear—already damp from earlier stimulation—was pulled off as well, the chill of the air against his bare skin made him flinch.

In that moment, Veloan’s gaze fell upon Ishar’s now-exposed entrance. Instinctively, Ishar bent his knees and tried to close his legs.

Veloan, looking down at him with an expression full of fondness, gently but firmly took hold of his knees and parted them. Ishar yielded without resistance—as though he’d been waiting for this—and it took no time at all for Veloan to settle between his legs.

“To confess the truth… I really am fine. In fact, saying I was never interested in royal bloodlines to begin with might be more accurate.”

“You mean… you didn’t care at all?”

“Yes. What I love is you, Ishar—who you are. What does blood relation matter?”

“……”

*I mean, maybe you *should* have cared a little*, Ishar almost said—but swallowed the thought. Instead, a languid breath escaped him as Veloan’s hand wrapped around his length and began to move.

“According to the ‘ethics’ our ‘teacher’ taught us, this would of course be considered an improper relationship… but so what? You love me, and I love you. That won’t change.”

By now, he should’ve grown used to this—but the way Veloan touched him, stroked him, always made Ishar’s nerves come alive like it was the very first time.

As Ishar’s breathing gradually grew ragged, Veloan’s hand moved faster. Having already been stimulated earlier, Ishar’s member, now slightly raised, hardened fully—spilling a thick drop of fluid from its tip.

“Even if we had shared the same blood, wouldn’t that have its own kind of thrill? Sometimes, I find myself wanting to swallow all of you, to become one with you completely. If a part of the blood flowing through me was also yours… ha, thinking of it that way, it does feel like a bit of a loss.”

There wasn’t a hint of deceit in his voice—low and intimate. He was genuinely disappointed.

“If I had been your brother… I could’ve met you earlier, received your love sooner…”

Had he heard such words before realizing his love for Veloan, Ishar would have been horrified. But now, all he felt was joy—pure joy in the face of this love, so hungry and intense it bordered on desperation.

As the stimulation continued, clear fluid leaked from his urethra, coating his shaft. Each stroke of Veloan’s hand, now slick with the precum acting as lubricant, made a wet squelching sound. The rhythm of his hand quickened, stroking him more firmly, more eagerly.With breathless gasps, Ishar placed his hand over the back of Veloan’s, which had been stroking him toward climax. His body, driven nearly to the edge, twitched involuntarily at the sudden halt—but he held back, suppressing the desire that tingled deep in his belly.

“That’s enough. Stop now.”

“But you haven’t finished yet. Look—” Veloan gave a small, teasing smile, “even the veins are standing out like this.”

Tap. Veloan playfully flicked the tip of Ishar’s fully erect length with the pad of his index finger. It was a light tease, but in Ishar’s aroused state, even that felt intensely stimulating—enough that he clenched his jaw tight.

Then, just as Veloan’s hand began to move again, Ishar firmly pushed it away and spoke with quiet finality.

“I’m already well-prepared back there. So… come now, won’t you?”

He appreciated Veloan’s gentleness—his concern that Ishar might be hurt, even after preparing himself alone. But one look at the swollen front of Veloan’s trousers, strained with restraint, made it clear that he was far from comfortable.

Even without it, Veloan’s words—more like a confession than any actual confession—made Ishar’s heart flutter, just like it had the very first time. He suddenly craved his warmth, his weight, his touch.

Had Veloan not moved, Ishar would have taken matters into his own hands and pulled him down himself.

By now, shame was long forgotten. With practiced ease, Ishar bent his knees and spread his legs. The moment he did, all expression vanished from Veloan’s face.

As Ishar caught the raw emotion flickering in those eyes—where Veloan’s composure was quickly slipping—his heart pounded violently in his chest.

Fire.

Veloan’s gaze burned with the desire to devour Ishar completely, to hold him and him alone. As his eyes darkened with intensity, Veloan licked his lips.

What a beautiful look that was.

In the past, Ishar had been repulsed by those who looked at him that way. But when it was Veloan… that same gaze brought him nothing but joy.

Because Ishar knew, without a doubt, that Veloan’s desire was not some shallow lust—but rooted in love. Deep, true, and worth more than his own life. And that certainty made Ishar all the happier.

With urgent hands, Veloan unbuckled Ishar’s pants and pulled down the front. Ishar’s stiff, upright member sprang free, twitching slightly as it was exposed.

“Tell me what you want, Ishar.”

Gripping his own length, Veloan pressed the glistening tip—already leaking clear fluid—firmly against Ishar’s perineum. Though clearly just as desperate, he still pretended to be composed, coaxing out the words he knew Ishar wanted to say.

Even that shamelessness—he found it lovable.

“Veloan, I want you. Only you. Now, take me—hah…!”

As Ishar opened his arms, Veloan surged forward like a crashing wave, his length parting Ishar’s inner walls and pushing deep—so deep—into him.

It still felt like a miracle that he could take Veloan without pain—his entrance stretched to the limit, aching as it struggled to accommodate him. Every time, it felt as though his body were being split in two.

But the sting of pain faded quickly. Ishar wrapped his arms around Veloan’s neck as he leaned in, and gentle kisses began to fall across his face, soft and natural, like flowing water.

Even though Veloan surely knew that Ishar wouldn’t tear, that he could move right away—he didn’t. Instead, he kissed him, letting Ishar adjust, easing him into the overwhelming sensation with quiet affection.

“You can move now.”

At those words of permission, Veloan pressed one last lingering kiss to Ishar’s wet lips—then slowly began to move.

The pain, sharp at first, soon melted into something else entirely.

“Haa… hngh… mm…”

The sensation of Veloan rubbing against his inner walls made Ishar’s body burn hotter. Though he was helplessly rocked by each of Veloan’s movements, he didn’t resist the tongue that slipped into his mouth—instead, he parted his lips obediently and welcomed him in.

Their tongues tangled wildly. Ishar clung to him, drinking in his breath, his saliva—as if this moment might be their last.

Their slick tongues pressed together, wet and fevered. Ishar pulled on Veloan’s tongue until the root ached, then gently bit down and pushed it deeper, letting it slide between his teeth, tracing along the ridges with hungry precision.

Even the saliva that slipped from the corners of his lips felt too precious to waste—so Ishar, having long lost his usual composure, greedily swallowed all of him, breath and kiss alike.

“Ah… ngh…!”

Even mid-kiss, tears welled in his eyes from the overwhelming sensation of Veloan moving inside him.

It was as if his body had finally molded itself to fit Veloan perfectly. Taking him to the base, Ishar trembled with every thrust, pleasure zinging through him each time Veloan drove his hips forward.

When he rammed in deep and struck the very core of him with merciless force, a tingling ache bloomed in his lower belly.

He couldn’t even tell if he had climaxed or not—his body simply reacted on instinct, trying to ground itself against the waves of pleasure crashing through his mind, over and over again.