Chapter 242

Siron finished the book in two hours and then tested the makeup with the items Isaac had bought. Thankfully, he didn’t have to sculpt the nose and jaw from scratch. He only had to fill what was lacking and shave what was extra on the premade pieces, then bond them tight with adhesive.

He picked up the jaw prosthetic. The pale flesh-colored silicone pad softened and stretched the moment it warmed in his hand. He primed his skin to block oil, looked into the mirror, and set the boomerang-like L-shaped pad on his face to find the position.

“Looks decent.”

The color didn’t match his skin and the edges were lifting here and there, so it looked awkward, but his overall impression changed completely. Pleased, Siron studied himself in the mirror from several angles and practiced expressions. Fierce, stony, pitiful, depressed.

“Do that much and get in the bedroom.”

Baekgyeong called down the hallway to the back of Siron’s head. Siron, who had been acting out a feeling that was happy and sad at once, scratched his nose in embarrassment.

“Why?”

“Pheromone shower.”

“Pheromone shower? I’m not done practicing the makeup.”

Baekgyeong spoke to the back of his head.

“Unless you want to go to the charity party tomorrow reeking of omega pheromones, you’re coming now.”

“I’ll... ask Isaac.”

“Why? You gonna ask that bastard for permission to use the bathroom too?”

Isaac was out for the moment handling boat refueling. An omega’s pheromones evaporated quickly, but an alpha’s were heavy and slow to vaporize; their scent lingered far longer. Since the plan was for Siron to be drenched in Baekgyeong’s pheromones before the charity party, Baekgyeong’s demand wasn’t unreasonable.

But Siron didn’t want to get excited from a pheromone shower in the middle of a quiet cold war. Still, this was as important as his feelings. In the end, he went to the bedroom with a chilly air born of priorities.

When Siron appeared, Baekgyeong flinched, struck speechless.

“Your face... what are you, Count Asura or something?”

“What’s that?”

“A thing with a half-and-half face.”

“Half and half?”

Siron imagined what he must look like. On the right side he had put silicone on his cheekbone and jaw, and he’d finished the nose too. He’d gotten a little carried away sticking this and that on his face because the makeup was fun. Rubbing both temples like he had a headache, Baekgyeong walked to the bed.

“Clothes off.”

“Just do it. You can do it without that.”

But Baekgyeong lightly overpowered his resistance. He dragged Siron to the bed, stripped his pants and underwear, and yanked his T-shirt up in one go. In the chaos of being undressed, when Baekgyeong’s hand reached his face, Siron startled and fought back.

“Leave that alone! It has to sit still for two hours!”

Siron shouted, covering his face with both palms to protect the silicone. Making a disgruntled throat-scratch sound, Baekgyeong threw his own clothes aside.

“Why are you stripping?”

“So I can pour cock juice on you till my pheromones soak into your skin.”

Down to only his underwear, Baekgyeong climbed onto the bed. Faced with the massive body covering him, Siron pressed his thighs together without thinking and averted his eyes.

“Excited? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Looking at Siron’s half-hard cock, Baekgyeong spoke with contempt. At that, Siron’s cock seemed to nod up and down and swell as if in response.

He never wanted to admit it, but watching a naked Baekgyeong bearing down on him and flooding him with pheromones made the inside of his perineum tingle and ache. Sour saliva rose in his mouth like he’d swallowed a lemon wedge, and a craving to be gouged deep by something hard surged up.

Ashamed, Siron covered his flushed face with his palm.

“Is it just me? You’re the same way.”

Flustered now, Siron peeped between his fingers at Baekgyeong’s groin and grumbled. The center of Baekgyeong’s bluish-gray briefs bulged. Siron’s gaze stuck there, at the heavy mound swelling high as if testing the limits of the elastic. Looking at the darkened, damp front, Siron thought of Baekgyeong’s unusually shaped cock.

Usually the glans is the thickest part, but his was a little different. Below the big glans there was a bulge like a snake had swallowed a ball—his shaft swelled there. It was too thick to get one hand around.

“Fascinated? What are you staring at so hard?”

Still not out of his anger, Baekgyeong asked. The distance had closed without Siron noticing; feeling crowded, he snapped his face left. Baekgyeong sucked in a breath.

“Fuck me, if you’re pretty even with that makeup on, your eyes must be gemstones.”

“I won’t deny it.”

“But your face is unbearable right now.”

Sighing, Baekgyeong turned Siron’s face the other way. The face he knew well enough to draw with his eyes closed glared at him in disapproval.

“What, did you go after me just for my face?”

“Yeah, I went after you because your face got me hard. I’ll adore that face till I’m dead and old, so hold still.”

Baekgyeong kissed his cheek lightly and drew in a breath. There was a faint acetone smell. It came from the adhesive bonding the silicone to his skin. And beyond that he could catch the faintest trace of Siron’s body scent and pheromones.

Siron was letting pheromones slip unguarded far less often. Thanks to steady training in control, he managed himself skillfully even when his emotions shifted. But Baekgyeong wanted to know for sure whether the same held true the moment he got sexually excited.

He pulled Siron’s hands—hands rough compared to his fine face—onto his crotch.

“Stroke my dick.”

“Knew it. I figured this was the goal.”

“When you get me worked up, my pheromones get stronger. That’s the surest way.”

Siron shot him a bored look and, reluctantly, covered his cock through the underwear. The moment he did, pheromones billowed off Baekgyeong. The veil of scent settled on Siron’s skin and shoved into his pores; it stung hot, almost like a burn. Siron tilted his head back and panted before he knew it. Through skin and breath and blood flow, a powerful arousal spread so hot it hurt.

With his own hand laid over Siron’s, Baekgyeong used Siron’s grip to rub himself slow.

“Ugh, I don’t like it.”

Siron’s palm curled up as if he hated the feel of sticky precum soaking the soft fabric. Smirking, Baekgyeong pressed his hand down harder and stroked himself at an unhurried pace.

“I’ve got business elsewhere. You keep going.”

Whispering low, Baekgyeong toppled Siron back onto the bed. Kneeling astride him with his legs spread, he rained kisses from the crown of Siron’s head down to his brow. Out of habit he pressed Siron’s nose with his lips—then flinched and pulled away. The silicone piece smoothly connected to Siron’s nose was cold against his mouth.

His face looked wrong, the fake nose thicker and wider than the real one; Baekgyeong’s face twisted.

“No good. I can’t get used to this face.”

“What does it matter. As long as you, haa, flood me with pheromones.”

“Yeah? Then endure it.”

Siron’s body flipped and his face mashed into the mattress. Climbing onto him, Baekgyeong palmed one cheek and pinned his face to the bed, then licked stickily along his ear shell and nape, savoring the pheromones Siron was emitting. He sucked up even the gooseflesh from Siron’s skin, then ran his tongue along the shoulder muscles and the groove of his spine.

Like a snail crawling tacky across his skin, he slathered saliva down to the small of Siron’s back and the top of his cleft. Spreading Siron’s legs, he pressed his lower body flat to the mattress, like a frog plastered to the floor.

“I, hn, feel kind of humiliated in this pose.”

“Why? Looks good.”

He gave Siron’s ass a light smack, then took his buttocks in both hands and spread them wide, then narrowed them, admiring.

“You’re still flexible in the hips. Most men can’t do frog pose.”

Even Baekgyeong’s plain admiration, like the indecent position, made Siron blush. The moment he lifted his waist to close his legs, Baekgyeong’s middle finger slipped casually into the tightened opening.

“Huh? Ngh!”

The shock came out of nowhere; Siron scrambled to lift his upper body, but a big, rough palm pressed his back down. A foreign presence arrived with the sting of fuel in the nose. Isaac.

“Doing that much without stretching—remarkably flexible.”

“Uh, excuse me. Could you, my, my back, let—go?”

“Mm. Pay me no mind and continue.”

Pressing lightly on Siron’s back as he tried to rise, Isaac perched on the edge of the bed and spoke to Baekgyeong.

“Continue.”

“Haah, whether I do anything or not—mind your own business, will you?”

At Baekgyeong’s irritation, Isaac let out a low laugh and gently turned Siron’s face toward him.

“Hm?”

Startled by a face that was strangely different from the one he knew, Isaac reached out with his bandaged hand. The silicone prosthetics were attached seamlessly over cheekbones, nose, and jaw. Isaac was genuinely impressed. Though there was a color difference because the pieces hadn’t been painted yet, the thin outer edge where silicone met skin wasn’t lifting and lay naturally.

“You’ve got some talent. I can trust you with it.”

Looking satisfied, Isaac slid his hand into Siron’s hair.

“W-wait. Did you just grab me by the hair? That’s, uh, really not respectful—mmph!”

Isaac bent over Siron’s face and pressed his mouth to his. He no longer pinned Siron’s back, but with his grip in Siron’s hair holding him in place, Siron couldn’t budge. A thick, long tongue rummaged everywhere in his mouth, tickled under his tongue, and greedily drank the overflowing saliva.