Define The Relationship Novel - Chapter 21

Karlyle slightly raised an eyebrow. It did look undignified.

“Excuse me. If you go downstairs first…”

“Because if you stay dressed like that, I might jump you again.”

With those words, Ash lightly kissed his eyebrow. Karlyle closed his mouth.

“My self-control keeps disappearing in front of Karlyle.”

The lips that touched his eyebrow whispered, tickling his skin. For a moment, a deafening emotion washed over him. What was he thinking, whispering like that?

Such actions by Ash caused a misunderstanding. Just a little, as if Ash had allowed Karlyle Frost, the human, into his boundaries more than before.

“By the way, dessert is decided.”

Ash winked one eye. The playful gesture was quite cute.

“Lemon meringue pie.”

“You’re going to make meringue?”

“Yes. If I have the ingredients.”

The fact that Ash would cook for him, combined with the fact that Ash would stay a little longer, made Karlyle feel inexplicably unable to contain himself.

“Are you perhaps not eating it?”

“No. I’m not particular.”

Dessert was truly something he ate out of custom. Karlyle wasn’t very picky. He wouldn’t touch ingredients of poor quality, but otherwise, he didn’t bother to create likes or dislikes.

“Even cinnamon?”

“I’m not particular about desserts.”

“You’re generous. We’d get along well.”

His heart pounded uncontrollably.

“I’m a bit picky about dessert selection.”

A playfully stern voice was heard. “Come down slowly.” Having finished speaking, Ash went out into the hallway first.

Karlyle stood in the quiet room, silently looking down at the bed. The sheets full of their traces and the scent of two Alphas filling the air. His chest tingled. Karlyle unconsciously bit his lip and raised his hand. He pressed firmly against his ribs through the open robe.

Leaving the sheets at the end of the bed as they were, Karlyle changed his clothes. He examined his reflection in the mirror. Then his gaze suddenly stopped at his neck.

A clear bite mark and a reddish kiss mark, just beginning to appear, were noticeable. The tickling rising from within him now became unbearably intense. It felt as if something invisible was gnawing and digging at his bones.

After quickly changing and going down to the kitchen, Ash was watching him descend like a dog waiting for its owner. The smile on his gentle face deepened. As his steps unconsciously quickened slightly, Ash greeted him.

“By the way, I forgot to ask.”

Music was playing in the kitchen. Karlyle looked around to check if the audio was on, then soon realized the music was coming from Ash’s phone. It was jazz with a faint scratching sound of an LP record. Karlyle recalled a memory lingering at the edge of his mind. It was a song sung by Al Bowlly.

“Go ahead.”

“Is it okay for me to take up your time for so long?”

Karlyle denied it so quickly that even he was surprised.

“No, it’s not.”

“I also try to keep my schedule clear when I meet Karlyle, but I thought Karlyle might be busy.”

It was true. But that wasn’t something that applied only to Karlyle. According to Karlyle’s investigation, Ash’s company was a studio that stood shoulder to shoulder with London’s most famous studios.

Ash was the managing director who effectively ran the studio in place of its founder, Mackenzie Arne, and he was a very famous designer. There were many articles stating that all his D&AD awards were achieved under Ash Jones’s planning. Such a person would definitely be busy.

“Mr. Jones and…”

He was about to say that he enjoyed being with him more, but Karlyle restrained himself. There was no need to reveal his feelings that much. It wasn’t like Karlyle. It didn’t suit him either. His partner probably wouldn’t want to know such things. He pondered for a moment what the right answer would be.

“On days when I have an appointment to meet, I also make sure to have free time.”

The answer he finally gave was very neutral. Ash nodded, looked around, and smiled faintly.

“Have you decided on the menu?”

This question was easier to answer.

“How about Duck Confit?”

Before Ash could reply, Karlyle added.

“I’ll make that.”

“Karlyle?”

Ash smiled, as if surprised. With a joyful expression, Ash leaned against the refrigerator.

“There’s nothing you can’t do.”

“That… seems to be similar for Mr. Jones as well.”

“I have many things I can’t do. I can’t play any instruments, and I’m not good at driving. Oh, and I can’t eat things that are too hot.”

Counting on his fingers, Ash listed things that weren’t even really flaws. He was like a child. As Ash said, Karlyle really didn’t have anything he couldn’t do. He just had few things he could excel at, like a dominant Alpha. But in front of Ash, such talk felt meaningless. He liked that.

“Anyway, I like duck confit. My mother used to make it often.”

Ash spoke about his mother in the past tense. Karlyle paused. But he didn’t ask any questions. Ash naturally moved on to the next topic.

“Then while Karlyle cooks, I’ll make the tart.”

And so, their roles were decided.

Karlyle learned to cook at sixteen. After being kidnapped and returned, he wanted to help his younger brother, who had significantly reduced his eating habits. It was also for his mother, Alice, who was struggling but didn’t show her worry for Kyle.

Even though he knew that Mrs. Mayhem and other head maids were far more skilled than him, Karlyle wanted to do something for his family. With the skills he quietly learned, Karlyle cooked duck confit, a dish his mother often ate.

Karlyle held his breath as he watched the confit served at the family gathering. His lowered eyes, not yet perfectly skilled at hiding emotions, unconsciously betrayed a faint hint of nervousness.

Alice, holding a fork placed upside down, finally cut a piece of meat on the plate in front of her. A piece of meat silently entered her red lips. Karlyle waited for Alice’s evaluation that would follow.

Praise for food was a natural reward for the daily toil. Of course, this was only allowed within their home. At a noble dinner, praising the food was not proper etiquette. It was praising those beneath them, after all.

But anyway, Alice always gave light feedback on the food at home. It was the same that day.

‘It’s delicious.’

Mrs. Mayhem, who had helped Karlyle, smiled at Alice’s words and whispered quietly.

‘Actually, today’s dish was made by the young master.’

“Isn’t he admirable? The young master truly can do anything.” At Mayhem’s words, Alice’s expression hardened. The faint smile that had lingered on her face quieted. Then she looked at Karlyle.

‘Is that so, Karlyle?’

Karlyle replied with eyes that held a faint hint of excitement.

‘Yes, Mother.’

Across from him, Kyle was looking at Karlyle.

‘You have good skills. But you don’t need to do this in the future.’

It wasn’t a compliment. The faint smile that had lingered gradually disappeared. Something called disappointment surged in his heart. Karlyle barely managed to compose himself.

‘Don’t waste your precious time on such things.’

After those words, Alice turned her gaze away. Jonathan silently watched Alice and Karlyle, then resumed his meal. Alice left some of the duck confit.

The half-eaten duck confit, growing cold, lingered in his sight throughout the meal. Jonathan ended his meal to take a call during dinner. Only Kyle remained at the table and quietly said to Karlyle.

‘It’s delicious, Karlyle.’

Karlyle quietly looked at his younger brother. Kyle, with a clear, pale face, smiled gently and said to him.

‘I’ll eat it well.’

Kyle was the only one who ate the food completely that day. However, Kyle, who had returned after being kidnapped, had a small appetite and ate very little, and because he forced himself to eat more than usual, he got sick.

As Alice said, Karlyle had wasted his time. Karlyle never cooked again after that day. He only tried to become a ‘noble’ Alpha, as his grandfather wished, during that time.

“Karlyle’s refrigerator has everything.”

Ash, who was making pastry, said. It made sense, as Mayhem greatly enjoyed baking. Moreover, while Karlyle was staying in London, Mayhem paid special attention to his meals, so fresh meat and vegetables filled the refrigerator daily. There was probably even venison in the underground meat storage.

“Did you find everything you wanted?”

“Yes. I could even make black pudding, couldn’t I?”

Karlyle slightly wrinkled his nose. Black pudding, he said. It was unexpected.

“Do you eat black pudding?”

“No. Do you, Karlyle?”

“I don’t specifically seek it out.”

Ash, who was slowly laying the pastry into the tart pan, chuckled delightedly. His movements, gently pressing the dough of precise thickness, looked very skillful.

“I was just saying. It’s exciting that we dislike the same things, isn’t it?”

“You tend to find joy in trivial things.”

“What else don’t you like?”

Ash asked as if genuinely amused. Karlyle didn’t understand Ash. Nevertheless, he thought slowly. Things that would have been difficult to recall before came to mind a little easier now.

“I don’t eat snails.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. You don’t even like small snail dishes like caracois?”

“Mr. Jones seems to have such tastes.”

It wasn’t a joke, but Ash laughed. His lips touched and left Karlyle’s cheek. Karlyle, who was rendering the fat from the duck legs and vegetables, froze.

“Of course. I’m a complete barbarian. I’m a person who eats both small and large snails. You should be careful of me, Karlyle?”

Karlyle chuckled inwardly at the playfully intimidating voice. Unconsciously, his face relaxed slightly. Ash quietly watched his faintly relaxed expression, though he wasn’t smiling. Karlyle didn’t notice it.

The cooking continued amidst trivial yet very important conversation. Ash poured a generous amount of beans to weigh down the tart crust, then put the mold into the oven. Then he began to make the meringue.

Meanwhile, the topic of conversation shifted to dessert. Karlyle had no particular preferences in that area, so Ash asked the questions.

“Rhubarb or fig, which do you prefer?”

“Rhubarb would be better.”

Because Mayhem preferred to whip cream or beat meringue by hand, finding machines awkward, there was no separate baking equipment in the house. Ash skillfully beat the meringue. His slightly veined forearms smoothly and powerfully created the meringue.

Since the egg whites needed to be coated, Karlyle’s role was to pour the pre-made sugar syrup over them. The scene of cooking with someone against the backdrop of leisurely, sweet jazz music felt very unfamiliar. Yet, it felt good.

“I like peaches.”

“That wasn’t an option.”

Karlyle pointed out.

“Sharp. As a reward, be my taste tester.”

Karlyle blinked at the words “taste tester.” Ash dipped a finger into the white meringue, which had formed beautiful peaks. Karlyle was flustered.

“Now, that…?”

“Come on, quickly.”

Ash extended his finger as if he knew nothing. Karlyle hesitated. Ash extended his finger a little further. Ah. At the low voice, as if telling him to open his mouth, Karlyle finally parted his lips. Then he slightly tilted his head and bit Ash’s finger. The back of his neck felt hot.

The white meringue on his finger was plain and sweet. Karlyle extended his tongue and licked it. His lips swallowed the finger. With his eyes lowered, Karlyle thoroughly licked the meringue with his tongue. The heat rose.

Ash pulled his finger out. Karlyle, feeling a strange regret as the sweetness disappeared, lifted his eyes just as a tongue entered. Ash didn’t hold Karlyle, only lowered his face and kissed Karlyle.

Ash’s tongue licked over Karlyle’s tongue, which was infused with meringue. The sweetness, far from fading, intensified. His tongue felt like it was melting like cream. It was sweet, so sweet.

Hmph, a short sound escaped. He unconsciously closed his eyes. Ash’s pheromones wavered close by. Just as he was about to become impatient, Ash pulled back. The oven alarm had rung.

Their eyes met. Ash licked his reddened lips with his tongue and smiled.

“Almost burned the tart.”

Ash, putting down the bowl of meringue, extended his arms as if to trap Karlyle and spoke. The oven was directly behind Karlyle. Ash turned off the oven while still holding Karlyle. Then he whispered in Karlyle’s ear.

“So, how did it taste, Karlyle?”

The sweetness lingered in his mouth. Karlyle turned his eyes and quietly said.

“…It’s sweet.”

“In a good way?”

He couldn’t tell.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you not want to eat it anymore?”

Karlyle shook his head.

“I want to eat it.”