Define The Relationship Novel - Chapter 15

Are you really sure you don’t need me to prepare a meal?”

Madam Mayam, Karlyle’s childhood nanny from Leeds and his longtime housekeeper, asked. Her slightly fleshy eyes widened, blinking anxiously. This face, which he had seen his whole life, was more familiar to Karlyle than his own mother, Alice. Mayam perhaps knew Karlyle better than Alice did.

Sitting at the wide, rectangular mahogany dining table, Karlyle put down his newspaper and quietly looked at Mayam. It was a kind of dismissal.

“I’m fine.”

Mayam was asking if it was alright for her to leave without serving anything to Karlyle’s guest, who was due to arrive soon. It was the first time Karlyle had brought someone over outside of his rut period. Mayam, despite being flustered by this unexpected fact, regretted not being able to be there herself. This was true even after he had told her twice that they were nothing more than acquaintances. He knew that this was the meddling of the elderly, but Karlyle felt uneasy about Mayam’s mistaken assumption that he and Ash were in some kind of relationship.

Yes, he was uneasy.

After what had happened, it was natural for some part of his chest to feel stiff and uncomfortable every time he thought of Ash.

It had been exactly six days ago. Since that day, Karlyle had, without exception, recalled the events of last Sunday afternoon around five o’clock. It was his unconscious playing tricks on him, against his will. It was a memory that was both humiliating and intensely vivid.

The fact that Ash doing that alone had resolved the symptoms that had plagued him for over a month.

It had been a very long time since he had reached climax. Forcing himself to ejaculate out of sheer reluctance had been a few months ago, and then, last month, it had become impossible even to do that. He didn’t feel that his skepticism about the act of intercourse had disappeared or changed, but regardless, Karlyle had climaxed. He had ejaculated profusely into Ash’s hand. And it didn’t end there. After telling him his joke-like ideal type—that he liked lewd people—Ash tormented Karlyle once more. He lightly stopped Karlyle from saying he wanted to stop, and then added another finger, stirring inside Karlyle’s rear.

As if to prove that what had happened earlier was real, Karlyle climaxed again the second time. Every time Ash moved, whatever was in his head melted away without a trace, like sugar cubes. His vision flickered on and off, and his entire body felt as if his blood was boiling.

The thought that Ash’s desires should also be satisfied came immediately after. Karlyle hesitated for a few seconds before checking. He couldn’t be sure if Ash had also felt desire through their actions. Ash had used the vulgar word ‘hard,’ but after that, Karlyle and Ash had argued, and so he was hesitant to guess how Ash felt.

Clearly, his current attitude was problematic. Hesitating even to guess the other person’s feelings. Karlyle had always been decisive in such matters, which made it even stranger.

In any case, after a brief hesitation, Karlyle acted. He bit his lip slightly, then stood up and reached for Ash’s belt, letting the action serve as a question. It was awkward to ask outright because the situation he was in formed a very strange dynamic.

Then Ash took Karlyle’s hand and smiled.

‘I’m fine.’

Fine? So Ash hadn’t been aroused throughout this entire act? The answer followed.

‘If I really go at it now, Karlyle won’t be able to handle it.’

The words, which underestimated his capacity, were rude, but Karlyle didn’t object. It was true. The shock of what had happened to him was considerable.

‘You were surprised. So for today, this much is good.’

Ash smiled and replied to Karlyle, who maintained a poker face, his thoughts unreadable. Then Ash hugged Karlyle and gently pressed his lips to his forehead.

‘I’ve had an eyeful, so I’ll hold back for now.’

Ash, who said he would hold back, didn’t look aroused at all. As the alcohol gradually wore off and his reason returned, Karlyle also didn’t want to urge him to penetrate him. After that conversation, Ash lay beside Karlyle for about an hour more, talking about various things, then left first, saying he’d see him next week.

Come to think of it, he had never spent more than three hours with Ash Jones. Karlyle quietly looked down at the newspaper, struck by this sudden realization.

“Are you really sure, young master?”

Karlyle tapped the table with his index finger, not hearing Mayam’s fourth inquiry asking if he was truly sure. It wasn’t strange. Karlyle had always scheduled sexual activities for the night, often sleeping and waking up with his Omega partners, but if it were Karlyle himself, he would probably leave after business was done if the person was involved with work in this way.

Nevertheless, he felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Young master?”

Mayam’s questioning call brought Karlyle back from his thoughts.

“Yes, Mayam. It’s fine. So please go and rest.”

“Oh, young master, you really must introduce me next time.”

That would never happen. But instead of saying so and enduring Mayam’s fuss again, Karlyle silently rose from the table and saw her off. Only after seeing off Mayam, who kept looking back, as if ushering her out the front door, was Karlyle alone.

The large, three-story mansion was quiet. In the space so silent that even Karlyle’s faint breathing seemed to subside, Karlyle quietly looked around.

The private mansion in Hampstead Heath, with its circular circus-like road, was technically family property, but no one else came here except Karlyle. Kyle, who was his grandfather’s favorite, had a mansion under his own name in Russell Square, and his parents stayed at the main London residence in Mayfair. Naturally, this place was given to Karlyle. It was also Alice’s consideration.

The mansion was located on a path leading further north, past the vast hills of Hampstead Heath. To be precise, the mansion closest to Golders Green Station had almost everything: an indoor swimming pool, a screening room, a conference room, a room with a pool table. Karlyle only used the study and his own room here. The four empty guest rooms and the remaining rooms were regularly maintained by Mayam. Moreover, for the past few years, Karlyle had mostly been in Qatar, so the house showed few signs of being lived in.

Just as he was thinking that, someone knocked on the door. Coincidentally, Karlyle, who was standing at the entrance, quietly turned and grasped the doorknob. His hand hesitated for a moment, then opened the door.

The first thing that caught his eye was a red rose.

“Did I come to the right place?”

Ash stood there, holding flowers, smiling.

Unlike their meeting at the hotel, Ash wanted to look around inside. Ash asked if Karlyle would give him a tour of the house. Karlyle nodded. In Karlyle’s arms lay the red rose, its petals fully bloomed.

“If you don’t like flowers, I’m sorry. You can throw them away after I leave.”

With Ash, something new always seemed to arise. He had many memories of buying flowers, but usually, he had someone else buy them. Receiving them was even rarer. He had no memory of receiving flowers except for his five graduation ceremonies. Moreover, this was the first time he had received them privately. The weight of the flowers in his arms felt strangely unfamiliar.

“…I don’t dislike them.”

He hadn’t thought deeply about it, but he seemed to like them. Otherwise, why would his eyes keep drifting to the rose Ash had given him? Did he like flowers? In Karlyle’s garden, peonies bloomed in various colors in spring. The empty house, without its owner, was diligently maintained by the gardener and Mayam.

Perhaps I should show him the garden? Recalling the area behind the mansion, Karlyle pondered where to start the tour.

“That’s a relief.”

Ash said, sounding pleased.

“I like them too.”

At the word “like,” Karlyle’s shoes, which had been walking through the living room, abruptly stopped. He had only heard the sentence about liking flowers, but for a moment, a different scene came to mind. Ash, who had been walking beside him, looked at him quizzically.

“Karlyle?”

Would Ash Jones confess like that? Offering flowers and saying, ‘I like you’… Karlyle flinched and shook his head at the thought that had unconsciously surfaced. Embarrassment washed over him.

“…I apologize. I was thinking about something for a moment.”

“Did I interrupt Karlyle? Do you have something to do?”

“No, that’s not it.”

Ash looked at Karlyle and the rose in his arms for a moment, then smiled, pleased.

“They suit you well.”

“…May I ask what Mr. Jones’s favorite flower is?”

Karlyle changed the subject. Most of Ash’s compliments were somewhat distant from Karlyle’s usual self, and it was awkward to respond. Fortunately, Ash seemed not to mind such things much.

“Roses. The same color you’re holding now, Karlyle.”