Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 162

Chapter 162

Nataek followed Medeus and, in the riverside brush, could only watch while he fished. Until they sat by the water to grill the catch and take a proper rest, Nataek did nothing but accept Medeus’s attentions, only entering the water when it was time to wash. After the bath, they ambled home with the slow steps of country farmers finished with the day’s work.

Akkaldia was truly a nest for the two alone. No one wished to enter a cursed village. Neither soldiers nor townsfolk so much as came near. Thanks to that, Nataek could, for the first time in a while, savor a silent night sky.

“Brr, it’s cold.”

Hugging himself, he shivered. Because his hair wasn’t fully dry, he’d been letting the wind hit it outside, and once the sun set the temperature fell quickly. He half‑raised himself and peered in through the window. Medeus was still busy, walking to and fro inside the house.

It’ll be cold later in bed too, right?

After a short debate, Nataek stood. He looked around, thinking to fetch some firewood, when a large shadow fell over the window.

“Looking for something?”

“I was going to light a fire. Thought I’d fetch some wood—”

“With that body? Get inside. I’ll bring it.”

“No. My hand is perfectly fine.”

“It’s dangerous. Don’t get hurt again—rest inside.”

Nataek wore a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. To call this kind of task dangerous to someone who had been thrown around and rolled everywhere while defeating Lagab.

“It’s fine. If anyone should rest, it’s you. You’ve been moving about all day.”

But Medeus forced him to sit and said, “I’m not as fragile as you.”

Half a joke in tone, but half serious. While Nataek was at a loss, Medeus went out. In the end, Nataek had to leave even fetching wood to Medeus.

Is this what being a king feels like… Being waited on hand and foot and putting all the tedious chores in someone else’s hands without lifting a finger was a first. Comfortable, yes, but perhaps not born to be a king—he felt too ill at ease making Medeus serve him this way.

So when bedtime came and he could lie down, he felt relief instead. At least then Medeus too would lie quietly at his side and rest. With the chirring of insects outside, Nataek gazed out the window. Lying flat, hands clasped as a pillow, he quietly took in the tranquil scene. Then a thought came.

Looked at like this, it’s a bit like Grandma’s place.

For the first time, he found a trace of the modern world in a civilization far distant in time and place. The familiarity of lying on a shabby bed made him oddly happy. As the corners of his mouth lifted, Medeus pressed close.

“What. What’s so funny?”

“The view. Seeing it like this from here—it’s similar to where I lived.”

“Where you lived? The East?”

“Yes.”

He felt Medeus roll to face him.

“What’s similar?”

“Mm, that when it gets dark only stars and the moon are visible, the sound of crickets outside the window…”

When he’d gone to visit as a child, there was always a snow‑white dog lying on the farmhouse’s broad wooden floor. Whether guests came or not it stretched out asleep; he’d thought it ridiculous and cute.

“What else?”

The curious voice urged him on. Nataek pulled his chin down toward his chest and looked at Medeus. Come to think of it, his lover did seem a little like that dog.

He looked at Medeus quietly and tapped his own chest without a word. Medeus’s gaze dropped at once to where he tapped. After a moment’s thought, Medeus lifted himself slightly, set his chin on Nataek’s chest, and looked up.

“What else was similar?”

Gray irises glittered as he stared up, and that alone made Nataek let slip a laugh—it brought the white farmhouse dog to mind. Someone once said that when you see something cute you want to bite it; that was exactly how he felt.

Nataek grabbed Medeus’s head and hugged it, then rubbed his chin over Medeus’s crown and made a show of mock‑biting. Medeus ended up laughing too.

“Teresi, what are you doing.”

Mumbling and nibbling at the pale hair with his lips, Nataek’s long‑held modest wish surfaced again.

A partner who, every morning upon waking, snuggles into his arms like a puppy; a lovable one who buries fuzzy hair against his chest.

He stared at the locks he had between his lips.

Is this it?

“Teresi?”

Realizing that an old wish was being fulfilled made his chest flutter. His playful touch softened, becoming gentle and tender. The hair held by his lips slid free with a hush.

Sensing on instinct that he was being cherished, Medeus didn’t miss the moment. With a look that seemed to beg for something, he came over Nataek, smiling with the corners of his eyes pinched. He set both hands on Nataek’s chest and rested his chin on them; their overlapped lower bodies moved slowly. The friction under the blanket transmitted unfiltered. As Nataek lay still, he slowly slid a hand into the covers and took Medeus’s waist.

“What’s this.”

He felt their legs slowly intertwine. Teasing, he stroked the firm waist languidly.

“What is this. Why’s it like this here?”

The single line lit the fuse. The desire held in Medeus’s pale eyes began to heat. He rubbed more insistently; yearning soaked his gaze—like a beast waiting for its master’s permission with prey before it.

“Teresi…”

The peaceful night view had become a hot, aching flame. Nataek was no exception. Medeus’s motions pulled the safety pin from his chest. With the hand inside the blanket, he grabbed Medeus’s thigh, then flipped them with a swift roll. The lead had switched to Nataek. Outside, the insects’ song did not stop.

Pinned beneath him, Medeus’s lower body still couldn’t stay still. He lifted and lowered his hips slowly, pleading to Nataek. When his hands gripped Nataek’s buttocks, both their reason snapped.

Without time to mark who moved first, their mouths met. Whether the excitement of war hadn’t yet cooled, or because Nataek’s heart had tilted—whatever the reason, the air heated faster than usual. With just a few mouthfuls of lips, the tips of his limbs began to tingle. Unable to bear it, Nataek pulled away quickly.

“Open your mouth.”

Medeus obeyed. As Nataek extended his tongue, Medeus followed with his own red tongue. Even as their lips met and parted, the joined tongues did not break; when lips met, there was the soft scratch of skin, and when they parted, two red masses tangled in the air.

Since recognizing the tilted seesaw, this was their first night; tonight, the lead was Nataek’s. He cupped Medeus’s lower cheeks in both hands. Under the blanket Medeus kept rolling his hips. Nataek’s hands moved lower to that rhythm.

Leading the night was very familiar to Nataek; he moved even more naturally. Kissing, he smoothed a hand over the sleek neck, then lower, gently over the fine clavicle. As his fingers flowed like water, they touched Medeus’s chest; without realizing it, he grasped the flat chest firm—out of habit.

Oh.

He stilled at the fact he realized without meaning to. The gap was a split second.

Ah, right.

Not even a second of pause. Snapping his mind back, he moved to continue calmly—but Medeus dropped his head suddenly.

“You…”

A furrow narrowed between Medeus’s brows.

“You can’t have…”

Startled, Nataek hurried to explain.

“It’s not that.”

But Medeus’s face darkened further. He tried again.

“It’s not that.”

“Not what?”

“No… just…”

It was a mistake—one the unconscious made.

“You… did you… by any chance…”

“It’s not!”

The mood had been good for once. He truly wanted to break his own hand. He hadn’t mistaken Medeus for a woman—or someone else. It was just a reflex from his unconscious, before he even knew it; like how on a bicycle one naturally balances. But there was no way Medeus would understand.

You idiot hand—of all times to make this mess.

“Did you mistake me… for someone else?”

He could have gone mad. Nataek leapt.

“Mistake? Absolutely not!”

His gaze fell to where Medeus’s lower body would be under the blanket.

How could anyone mistake it with that there. It’s really not. A misunderstanding…

“Medeus. Truly, truly—it’s a misunderstanding. It’s not what you’re thinking. How could I mistake you for someone else.”

Even so, Medeus’s mood didn’t return. Slowly, Nataek slid a hand under the blanket and said,

“You’re so special to me that you’ve upended every standard I held. How could I think of anything else. Truly. It’s not what you think.”

It was the first time “special” had come from Nataek’s mouth. At his sincere explanation, Medeus’s sulk began to loosen a little.

“Truly?”

“Yes. Isn’t it obvious.”

Only then did Nataek ease too.

Ha… Ina‑taek, you crazy fool. Get your head straight…

Slash water deep and it only stirs for a moment; you can’t cut the current. Their fights, too, were like cutting water.

To make up for his mistake, Nataek did his utmost. He satisfied Medeus until all the strength he’d stocked was drained. Until even the crickets held their breath and peeped into the quarters.

Exhausted, Nataek collapsed into a peculiar dream that night. Call it a nightmare or a lucky dream—a pure white, beautiful white serpent appeared. It coiled right beside him as he lay in the bed, and when their eyes met, it flirted as if asking to be held.

With each flicker of its tongue, a white thread slid in and out of its mouth. Even the tongue was white. Fascinated, he watched it for a long time.

The white serpent knew, like a ghost, that it was being cherished. When he stroked its body slowly with a hand, it leaned and pushed, asking for more; when he kissed its round snout with a little smacking sound, it flicked its tongue and shivered with pleasure.

Finding the round crown cute, he made a big “nom” as if to eat it, and it took offense and shoved its head into his mouth. Then he’d apologize and play with his hands again. So all night in the dream, as he played with the snake, Nataek murmured and groaned in his sleep.